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diff --git a/old/13499-8.txt b/old/13499-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac0eeb8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13499-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14326 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Two Little Savages, by Ernest Thompson Seton, +Illustrated by Ernest Thompson Seton + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Two Little Savages + +Author: Ernest Thompson Seton + +Release Date: September 19, 2004 [eBook #13499] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO LITTLE SAVAGES*** + + +E-text prepared by Curtis Weyant, Lesley Halamek, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 13499-h.htm or 13499-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/4/9/13499/13499-h/13499-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/4/9/13499/13499-h.zip) + + + + + +TWO LITTLE SAVAGES + +Being the ADVENTURES of Two BOYS Who Lived as INDIANS and What They +LEARNED + +With Over Three Hundred Drawings + +Written & Illustrated by + +ERNEST THOMPSON SETON + +Author of _Wild Animals I have Known_, _Lives of the Hunted_, +_Biography of a Grizzly_, _Trail of the Sandhill Stag_, etcetera, +& Naturalist to the Government of Manitoba. + +1917 + + + + + + + +Preface + + +Because I have known the torment of thirst I would +dig a well where others may drink. + +E.T.S. + + + +In this Book the designs for Title-page, Jackets, and general make-up +were done by Grace Gallatin Seton. + + + + +The Chapters + +Part I + +Glenyan & Yan + + +I. Glimmerings +II. Spring +III. His Adjoining Brothers +IV. The Book +V. The Collarless Stranger +VI. Glenyan +VII The Shanty +VIII The Beginnings of Woodlore +IX Tracks +X. Biddy's Contribution +XI. Lung Balm +XII. A Crisis +XIII. The Lynx +XIV. Froth + + + + +The Chapters + +Part II + +Sanger & Sam + + +I. The New Home +II. Sam +III. The Wigwam +IV. The Sanger Witch +V. Caleb +VI. The Making of the Teepee +VII. The Calm Evening +VIII. The Sacred Fire +IX. The Bows and Arrows +X. The Dam +XI. Yan and the Witch +XII. Dinner with the Witch +XIII. The Hostile Spy +XIV. The Quarrel +XV. The Peace of Minnie + + + + +The Chapters + +Part III + +In the Woods + + +I. Really in the Woods +II. The First Night and Morning +III. A Crippled Warrior and the Mud-Albums +IV. A "Massacree" of Palefaces +V. The Deer Hunt +VI. War Bonnet, Teepee and Coups +VII. Campercraft +VIII. The Indian Drum +IX. The Cat and the Skunk +X. The Adventures of a Squirrel family +XI. How to See the Woodfolk +XII. Indian Signs and Getting Lost +XIII. Tanning Skins and Making Moccasins +XIV. Caleb's Philosophy +XV. A Visit from Raften +XVI. How Yan Knew the Ducks Afar +XVII. Sam's Woodcraft Exploit +XVIII. The Owls and the Night-School +XIX. The Trial of Grit +XX. The White Revolver +XXI. The Triumph of Guy +XXII. The Coon Hunt +XXIII. The Banshee's Wail and the Huge Night Prowler +XXIV. Hawkeye Claims Another Grand Coup +XXV. The Three-fingered Tramp +XXVI. Winning Back the farm +XXVII. The Rival Tribe +XXVIII. White Man's Woodcraft +XXIX. The Long Swamp +XXX. A New Kind of Coon +XXXI. On the Old Camp Ground +XXXII. The New War Chief + + + +List of Full Pages + +Part I + + + 1. "Gazing spellbound in that window" + 2. "He already knew the Downy Woodpecker" + 3. "Yan's Toilet" + 4. "The Coon Track" + 5. "There in his dear cabin were three tramps" + 6. "It surely was a Lynx" + +Part II + + 7. "The wigwam was a failure" + 8. "Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye" + 9. "Pattern for Teepee" + +10. "Pattern of Thunder Bull's Teepee and of Black + Bull's Teepee" +11. "'Clicker-a-clicker!' he shrieked ... and down like + a dart" +12. "Rubbing-sticks for fire-making" +13. "The Archery Outfit" +14. "The dam was a great success" +15. "Ugh! Heap sassy" +16. "There stood Raften, spectator of the whole affair" + + + + +Part III + + +17. "If ye kill any Song-birds, I'll use the rawhoide + on ye" +18. "Where's the axe?" +19. "He soon appeared, waving a branch" +20. "The War Bonnet" +21. "The old Cat raged and tore" +22. "Indian Signs" +23. "The Two Smokes" +24. "The Fish and River Ducks" +25. "The Sea Ducks" +26. "Owl-stuffing plate" +27. "Guy gave a leap of terror and fell" +28. "Well, sonny, cookin' dinner?" +29. "He nervously fired and missed" + + + + +I + +Glimmerings + + +Yan was much like other twelve-year-old boys in having a keen interest +in Indians and in wild life, but he differed from most in this, that +he never got over it. Indeed, as he grew older, he found a yet keener +pleasure in storing up the little bits of woodcraft and Indian lore +that pleased him as a boy. + +His father was in poor circumstances. He was an upright man of refined +tastes, but indolent--a failure in business, easy with the world and +stern with his family. He had never taken an interest in his son's +wildwood pursuits; and when he got the idea that they might interfere +with the boy's education, he forbade them altogether. + +There was certainly no reason to accuse Yan of neglecting school. He +was the head boy of his class, although there were many in it older +than himself. He was fond of books in general, but those that dealt +with Natural Science and Indian craft were very close to his heart. +Not that he had many--there were very few in those days, and the +Public Library had but a poor representation of these. "Lloyd's +Scandinavian Sports," "Gray's Botany" and one or two Fenimore Cooper +novels, these were all, and Yan was devoted to them. He was a timid, +obedient boy in most things, but the unwise command to give up what +was his nature merely made him a disobedient boy--turned a good boy +into a bad one. He was too much in terror of his father to disobey +openly, but he used to sneak away at all opportunities to the fields +and woods, and at each new bird or plant he found he had an exquisite +thrill of mingled pleasure and pain--the pain because he had no name +for it or means of learning its nature. + +The intense interest in animals was his master passion, and thanks to +this, his course to and from school was a very crooked one, involving +many crossings of the street, because thereby he could pass first a +saloon in whose window was a champagne advertising chromo that +portrayed two Terriers chasing a Rat; next, directly opposite this, +was a tobacconist's, in the window of which was a beautiful effigy of +an Elephant, laden with tobacco. By going a little farther out of his +way, there was a game store where he might see some Ducks, and was +sure, at least, of a stuffed Deer's head; and beyond that was a +furrier shop, with an astonishing stuffed Bear. At another point he +could see a livery stable Dog that was said to have killed a Coon, and +at yet another place on Jervie Street was a cottage with a high +veranda, under which, he was told, a chained Bear had once been kept. +He never saw the Bear. It had been gone for years, but he found +pleasure in passing the place. At the corner of Pemberton and Grand +streets, according to a schoolboy tradition, a Skunk had been killed +years ago and could still be smelled on damp nights. He always +stopped, if passing near on a wet night, and sniffed and enjoyed that +Skunk smell. The fact that it ultimately turned out to be a leakage of +sewer gas could never rob him of the pleasure he originally found in +it. + +[Illustration: "Gazing spellbound in that window"] + +Yan had no good excuse for these weaknesses, and he blushed for shame +when his elder brother talked "common sense" to him about his follies. +He only knew that such things fascinated him. + +But the crowning glory was a taxidermist's shop kept on Main Street by +a man named Sander. Yan spent, all told, many weeks gazing spellbound, +with his nose flat white against that window. It contained some Fox +and Cat heads grinning ferociously, and about fifty birds beautifully +displayed. Nature might have got some valuable hints in that window +on showing plumage to the very best advantage. Each bird seemed more +wonderful than the last. + +There were perhaps fifty of them on view, and of these, twelve had +labels, as they had formed part of an exhibit at the Annual County +Fair. These labels were precious truths to him, and the birds: + +Osprey Partridge or Ruffed Grouse +Kingfisher Bittern +Bluejay Highholder +Rosebreasted Grosbeak Sawwhet Owl +Woodthrush Oriole +Scarlet Tanager * * * * * * * + +were, with their names, deeply impressed on his memory and added to +his woodlore, though not altogether without a mixture of error. For +the alleged Woodthrush was not a Woodthrush at all, but turned out +to be a Hermit Thrush. The last bird of the list was a long-tailed, +brownish bird with white breast. The label was placed so that Yan +could not read it from outside, and one of his daily occupations was +to see if the label had been turned so that he could read it. But it +never was, so he never learned the bird's name. + +After passing this for a year or more, he formed a desperate plan. It +was nothing less than to _go inside_. It took him some months to +screw up courage, for he was shy and timid, but oh! he was so hungry +for it. Most likely if he had gone in openly and asked leave, he +would have been allowed to see everything; but he dared not. His home +training was all of the crushing kind. He picked on the most curious +of the small birds in the window--a Sawwhet Owl then grit his teeth +and walked in. How frightfully the cowbell on the door did clang! Then +there succeeded a still more appalling silence, then a step and the +great man himself came. + +"How--how--how much is that Owl?" + +"Two dollars." + +Yan's courage broke down now. He fled. If he had been told ten cents, +it would have been utterly beyond reach. He scarcely heard what the +man said. He hurried out with a vague feeling that he had been in +heaven but was not good enough to stay there. He saw nothing of the +wonderful things around him. + + + + +II + +Spring + + +Yan, though not strong, revelled in deeds of brawn. He would rather +have been Samson than Moses--Hercules than Apollo. All his tastes +inclined him to wild life. Each year when the spring came, he felt the +inborn impulse to up and away. He was stirred through and through when +the first Crow, in early March, came barking over-head. But it fairly +boiled in his blood when the Wild Geese, in long, double, arrow-headed +procession, went clanging northward. He longed to go with them. +Whenever a new bird or beast appeared, he had a singular prickling +feeling up his spine and his back as though he had a mane that was +standing up. This feeling strengthened with his strength. + +All of his schoolmates used to say that they "liked" the spring, some +of the girls would even say that they "dearly loved" the spring, but +they could not understand the madness that blazed in Yan's eyes when +springtime really came--the flush of cheek--the shortening breath--the +restless craving for action--the chafing with flashes of rebellion at +school restraints--the overflow of nervous energy--the bloodthirst +in his blood--the hankering to run--to run to the north, when the +springtime tokens bugled to his every sense. + +Then the wind and sky and ground were full of thrill. There was +clamour everywhere, but never a word. There was stirring within and +without. There was incentive in the yelping of the Wild Geese; but it +was only tumult, for he could not understand why he was so stirred. +There were voices that he could not hear--messages that he could not +read; all was confusion of tongues. He longed only to get away. + +"If only I could get away. If--if--Oh, God!" he stammered in torment +of inexpression, and then would gasp and fling himself down on some +bank, and bite the twigs that chanced within reach and tremble and +wonder at himself. + +Only one thing kept him from some mad and suicidal move--from joining +some roving Indian band up north, or gypsies nearer--and that was the +strong hand at home. + + + + +III + +His Adjoining Brothers + + +Yan had many brothers, but only those next him in age were important +in his life. Rad was two years older--a strong boy, who prided himself +on his "common sense." Though so much older, he was Yan's inferior +at school. He resented this, and delighted in showing his muscular +superiority at all opportunities. He was inclined to be religious, +and was strictly proper in his life and speech. He never was known to +smoke a cigarette, tell a lie, or say "gosh" or "darn." He was plucky +and persevering, but he was cold and hard, without a human fiber or a +drop of red blood in his make-up. Even as a boy he bragged that he had +no enthusiasms, that he believed in common sense, that he called a +spade a spade, and would not use two words where one would do. His +intelligence was above the average, but he was so anxious to be +thought a person of rare sagacity and smartness, unswayed by emotion, +that nothing was too heartless for him to do if it seemed in line +with his assumed character. He was not especially selfish, and yet he +pretended to be so, simply that people should say of him significantly +and admiringly: "Isn't he keen? Doesn't he know how to take care of +himself?" What little human warmth there was in him died early, and he +succeeded only in making himself increasingly detested as he grew up. + +His relations to Yan may be seen in one incident. + +Yan had been crawling about under the house in the low wide cobwebby +space between the floor beams and the ground. The delightful sensation +of being on an exploring expedition led him farther (and ultimately to +a paternal thrashing for soiling his clothes), till he discovered a +hollow place near one side, where he could nearly stand upright. He +at once formed one of his schemes--to make a secret, or at least a +private, workroom here. He knew that if he were to ask permission +he would be refused, but if he and Rad together were to go it might +receive favourable consideration on account of Rad's self-asserted +reputation for common sense. For a wonder, Rad was impressed with the +scheme, but was quite sure that they had "better not go together to +ask Father." He "could manage that part better alone," and he did. + +Then they set to work. The first thing was to deepen the hole from +three feet to six feet everywhere, and get rid of the earth by working +it back under the floor of the house. There were many days of labour +in this, and Yan stuck to it each day after returning from school. +There were always numerous reasons why Rad could not share in the +labour. When the ten by fourteen-foot hole was made, boards to line +and floor it were needed. Lumber was very cheap--inferior, second-hand +stuff was to be had for the asking--and Yan found and carried boards +enough to make the workroom. Rad was an able carpenter and now took +charge of the construction. They worked together evening after +evening, Yan discussing all manner of plans with warmth and +enthusiasm--what they would do in their workshop when finished--how +they might get a jig-saw in time and saw picture frames, so as to +make some money. Rad assented with grunts or an occasional Scripture +text--that was his way. Each day he told Yan what to go on with while +he was absent. + +The walls were finished at length; a window placed in one side; a door +made and fitted with lock and key. What joy! Yan glowed with pleasure +and pride at the triumphant completion of his scheme. He swept up the +floor for the finishing ceremony and sat down on the bench for a grand +gloat, when Rad said abruptly: + +"Going to lock up now." That sounded gratifyingly important. Yan +stepped outside. Rad locked the door, put the key in his pocket, then +turning, he said with cold, brutal emphasis: + +"Now you keep out of my workshop from this on. _You_ have nothing +to do with it. It's mine. I got the permission to make it." All of +which he could prove, and did. + + * * * * * + +Alner, the youngest, was eighteen months younger than Yan, and about +the same size, but the resemblance stopped there. His chief aim in +life was to be stylish. He once startled his mother by inserting into +his childish prayers the perfectly sincere request: "Please, God, +make me an awful swell, for Jesus sake." Vanity was his foible, and +laziness his sin. + +He could be flattered into anything that did not involve effort. He +fairly ached to be famous. He was consuming with desire to be pointed +out for admiration as the great this, that or the other thing--it did +not matter to him what, as long as he could be pointed out. But he +never had the least idea of working for it. At school he was a sad +dunce. He was three grades below Yan and at the bottom of his grade. +They set out for school each day together, because that was a paternal +ruling; but they rarely reached there together. They had nothing in +common. Yan was full of warmth, enthusiasm, earnestness and energy, +but had a most passionate and ungovernable temper. Little put him in a +rage, but it was soon over, and then an equally violent reaction set +in, and he was always anxious to beg forgiveness and make friends +again. Alner was of lazy good temper and had a large sense of humour. +His interests were wholly in the playground. He had no sympathy with +Yan's Indian tastes--"Indians in nasty, shabby clothes. Bah! Horrid!" +he would scornfully say. + +These, then, were his adjoining brothers. + +What wonder that Yan was daily further from them. + + + + +IV + +The Book + + +But the greatest event of Yan's then early life now took place. His +school readers told him about Wilson and Audubon, the first and last +American naturalists. Yan wondered why no other great prophet had +arisen. But one day the papers announced that at length he had +appeared. A work on the Birds of Canada, by ..., had come at last, +price one dollar. + +Money never before seemed so precious, necessary and noble a thing. +"Oh! if I only had a dollar." He set to work to save and scrape. He +won marbles in game, swopped marbles for tops, tops for jack-knives as +the various games came around with strange and rigid periodicity. The +jack-knives in turn were converted into rabbits, the rabbits into cash +of small denominations. He carried wood for strange householders; +he scraped and scraped and saved the scrapings; and got, after some +months, as high as ninety cents. But there was a dread fatality +about that last dime. No one seemed to have any more odd jobs; his +commercial luck deserted him. He was burnt up with craving for that +book. None of his people took interest enough in him to advance the +cash even at the ruinous interest (two or three times cent per cent) +that he was willing to bind himself for. Six weeks passed before he +achieved that last dime, and he never felt conscience-clear about it +afterward. + +He and Alner had to cut the kitchen wood. Each had his daily +allotment, as well as other chores. Yan's was always done faithfully, +but the other evaded his work in every way. He was a notorious little +fop. The paternal poverty did not permit his toilet extravagance to +soar above one paper collar per week, but in his pocket he carried a +piece of ink eraser with which he was careful to keep the paper collar +up to standard. Yan cared nothing about dress--indeed, was inclined to +be slovenly. So the eldest brother, meaning to turn Alner's weakness +to account, offered a prize of a twenty-five-cent necktie of the +winner's own choice to the one who did his chores best for a month. +For the first week Alner and Yan kept even, then Alner wearied, in +spite of the dazzling prize. The pace was too hot. Yan kept on his +usual way and was duly awarded the twenty-five cents to be spent on a +necktie. But in the store a bright thought came tempting him. Fifteen +cents was as much as any one should spend on a necktie--that's sure; +the other ten would get the book. And thus the last dime was added to +the pile. Then, bursting with joy and with the pride of a capitalist, +he went to the book-shop and asked for the coveted volume. + +He was tense with long-pent feeling. He expected to have the +bookseller say that the price had gone up to one thousand dollars, and +that all were sold. But he did not. He turned silently, drew the book +out of a pile of them, hesitated and said, "Green or red cover?" + +"Green," said Yan, not yet believing. The book-man looked inside, then +laid it down, saying in a cold, business tone, "Ninety cents." + +"Ninety cents," gasped Yan. Oh! if only he had known the ways of +booksellers or the workings of cash discounts. For six weeks had +he been barred this happy land--had suffered starvation; he had +misappropriated funds, he had fractured his conscience and all to +raise that ten cents--that unnecessary dime. + +He read that book reverentially all the way home. It did not give him +what he wanted, but that doubtless was his own fault. He pored over +it, studied it, loved it, never doubting that now he had the key to +all the wonders and mysteries of Nature. It was five years before +he fully found out that the text was the most worthless trash ever +foisted on a torpid public. Nevertheless, the book held some useful +things; first, a list of the bird names; second, some thirty vile +travesties of Audubon and Wilson's bird portraits. + +These were the birds thus maligned: + +Duck Hawk Rose-breasted Grosbeak +Sparrow Hawk Bobolink +White-headed Eagle Meadow Lark +Great Horned Owl Bluejay +Snowy Owl Ruffed Grouse +Red-headed Woodpecker Great Blue Heron +Golden-winged Woodpecker Bittern +Barn-swallow Wilson's Snipe +Whip-poor-will Long-biller Curlew +Night Hawk Purple Gallinule +Belted Kingfisher Canada Goose +Kingbird Wood Duck +Woodthrush Hooded Merganser +Catbird Double-crested Cormorant +White-bellied Nuthatch Arctic Tern +Brown Creeper Great Northern Diver +Bohemian Chatterer Stormy Petrel +Great Northern Shrike Arctic Puffin +Shore Lark Black Guillemot + +[Illustration: "He already knew the Downy Woodpecker"] + + +But badly as they were presented, the pictures were yet information, +and were entered in his memory as lasting accessions to his store of +truth about the Wild Things. + +Of course, he already knew some few birds whose names are familiar +to every schoolboy: the Robin, Bluebird, Kingbird, Wild Canary, +Woodpecker, Barn-swallow, Wren, Chickadee, Wild Pigeon, Humming-bird, +Pewee, so that his list was steadily increased. + + + + +V + +The Collarless Stranger + + + Oh, sympathy! the noblest gift of God to man. + The greatest bond there is twixt man and man. + The strongest link in any friendship chain. + The single lasting hold in kinship's claim. + The only incorrosive strand in marriage bonds. + The blazing torch where genius lights her lamp. + The ten times noble base of noblest love. + More deep than love--more strong than hate--the biggest thing + in all the universe--the law of laws. + Grant but this greatest gift of God to man--this single link + concatenating grant, and all the rest are worthless or comprised. + +Each year the ancient springtime madness came more strongly on Yan. +Each year he was less inclined to resist it, and one glorious day of +late April in its twelfth return he had wandered northward along to a +little wood a couple of miles from the town. It was full of unnamed +flowers and voices and mysteries. Every tree and thicket had a +voice--a long ditch full of water had many that called to him. +"_Peep-peep-peep_," they seemed to say in invitation for him to +come and see. He crawled again and again to the ditch and watched +and waited. The loud whistle would sound only a few rods away, +"_Peep-peep-peep_," but ceased at each spot when he came +near--sometimes before him, sometimes behind, but never where he was. +He searched through a small pool with his hands, sifted out sticks and +leaves, but found nothing else. A farmer going by told him it was only +a "spring Peeper," whatever that was, "some kind of a critter in the +water." + +Under a log not far away Yan found a little Lizard that tumbled out of +sight into a hole. It was the only living thing there, so he decided +that the "Peeper" must be a "Whistling Lizard." But he was determined +to see them when they were calling. How was it that the ponds all +around should be full of them calling to him and playing hide and seek +and yet defying his most careful search? The voices ceased as soon as +he came near, to be gradually renewed in the pools he had left. His +presence was a husher. He lay for a long time watching a pool, but +none of the voices began again in range of his eye. At length, after +realizing that they were avoiding him, he crawled to a very noisy pond +without showing himself, and nearer and yet nearer until he was within +three feet of a loud peeper in the floating grass. He located the spot +within a few inches and yet could see nothing. He was utterly baffled, +and lay there puzzling over it, when suddenly all the near Peepers +stopped, and Yan was startled by a footfall; and looking around, he +saw a man within a few feet, watching him. + +Yan reddened--a stranger was always an enemy; he had a natural +aversion to all such, and stared awkwardly as though caught in crime. + +The man, a curious looking middle-aged person, was in shabby clothes +and wore no collar. He had a tin box strapped on his bent shoulders, +and in his hands was a long-handled net. His features, smothered in a +grizzly beard, were very prominent and rugged. They gave evidence of +intellectual force, with some severity, but his gray-blue eyes had a +kindly look. + +He had on a common, unbecoming, hard felt hat, and when he raised it +to admit the pleasant breeze Yan saw that the wearer had hair like his +own--a coarse, paleolithic mane, piled on his rugged brow, like a mass +of seaweed lodged on some storm-beaten rock. + +"F'what are ye fynding, my lad?" said he in tones whose gentleness was +in no way obscured by a strong Scottish tang. + +Still resenting somewhat the stranger's presence, Yan said: + +"I'm not finding anything; I am only trying to see what that Whistling +Lizard is like." + +The stranger's eyes twinkled. "Forty years ago Ah was laying by a pool +just as Ah seen ye this morning, looking and trying hard to read the +riddle of the spring Peeper. Ah lay there all day, aye, and mony +anither day, yes, it was nigh onto three years before Ah found it oot. +Ah'll be glad to save ye seeking as long as Ah did, if that's yer +mind. Ah'll show ye the Peeper." + +Then he raked carefully among the leaves near the ditch, and soon +captured a tiny Frog, less than an inch long. + +"Ther's your Whistling Lizard: he no a Lizard at all, but a Froggie. +Book men call him _Hyla pickeringii_, an' a gude Scotchman he'd +make, for ye see the St. Andrew's cross on his wee back. Ye see the +whistling ones in the water put on'y their beaks oot an' is hard to +see. Then they sinks to the bottom when ye come near. But you tak +this'n home and treat him well and ye'll see him blow out his throat +as big as himsel' an' whistle like a steam engine." + +Yan thawed out now. He told about the Lizard he had seen. + +"That wasna a Lizard; Ah niver see thim aboot here. It must a been +a two-striped _Spelerpes_. A _Spelerpes_ is nigh kin to a +Frog--a kind of dry-land tadpole, while a Lizard is only a Snake with +legs." + +This was light from heaven. All Yan's distrust was gone. He warmed to +the stranger. He plied him with questions; he told of his getting the +Bird Book. Oh, how the stranger did snort at "that driveling trash." +Yan talked of his perplexities. He got a full hearing and intelligent +answers. His mystery of the black ground-bird with a brown mate was +resolved into the Common Towhee. The unknown wonderful voice in the +spring morning, sending out its "_cluck, cluck, cluck, clucker_," +in the distant woods, the large gray Woodpecker that bored in some +high stub and flew in a blaze of gold, and the wonderful spotted bird +with red head and yellow wings and tail in the taxidermist's window, +were all resolved into one and the same--the Flicker or Golden-winged +Woodpecker. The Hang-nest and the Oriole became one. The unknown +poisonous-looking blue Hornet, that sat on the mud with palpitating +body, and the strange, invisible thing that made the mud-nests inside +old outbuildings and crammed them with crippled Spiders, were both +identified as the Mud-wasp or _Pelopæus_. + +A black Butterfly flew over, and Yan learned that it was a Camberwell +Beauty, or, scientifically, a _Vanessa antiopa_, and that this +one must have hibernated to be seen so early in the spring, and yet +more, that this beautiful creature was the glorified spirit of the +common brown and black spiney Caterpillar. + +The Wild Pigeons were flying high above them in great flocks as they +sat there, and Yan learned of their great nesting places in the far +South, and of their wonderful but exact migrations without regard to +anything but food; their northward migration to gather the winged nuts +of the Slippery Elm in Canada; their August flight to the rice-fields +of Carolina; their Mississippi Valley pilgrimage when the acorns and +beech-mast were falling ripe. + +What a rich, full morning that was. Everything seemed to turn up for +them. As they walked over a piney hill, two large birds sprang from +the ground and whirred through the trees. + +"Ruffed Grouse or 'patridge', as the farmers call them. There's a pair +lives nigh aboots here. They come on this bank for the Wintergreen +berries." + +And Yan was quick to pull and taste them. He filled his pockets with +the aromatic plant--berries and all--and chewed it as he went. While +they walked, a faint, far drum-thump fell on their ears. "What's +that?" he exclaimed, ever on the alert. The stranger listened and +said: + +"That's the bird ye ha' just seen; that's the Cock Partridge drumming +for his mate." + +The Pewee of his early memories became the Phoebe of books. That day +his brookside singer became the Song-sparrow; the brown triller, the +Veery Thrush. The Trilliums, white and red, the Dogtooth Violet, the +Spring-beauty, the Trailing Arbutus--all for the first time got +names and became real friends, instead of elusive and beautiful, but +depressing mysteries. + +The stranger warmed, too, and his rugged features glowed; he saw in +Yan one minded like himself, tormented with the knowledge-hunger, as +in youth he himself had been; and now it was a priceless privilege to +save the boy some of what he had suffered. His gratitude to Yan grew +fervid, and Yan--he took in every word; nothing that he heard was +forgotten. He was in a dream, for he had found at last the greatest +thing on earth--sympathy--broad, intelligent, comprehensive sympathy. + +That spring morning was ever after like a new epoch in Yan's mind--not +his memory, that was a thing of the past--but in his mind, his living +present. + +And the strongest, realest thing in it all was, not the rugged +stranger with his kind ways, not the new birds and plants, but the +smell of the Wintergreen. + +Smell's appeal to the memory is far better, stronger, more real than +that of any other sense. The Indians know this; many of them, in time, +find out the smell that conjures up their happiest hours, and keep it +by them in the medicine bag. It is very real and dear to them--that +handful of Pine needles, that lump of Rat-musk, or that piece of +Spruce gum. It adds the crown of happy memory to their reveries. + +And yet this belief is one of the first attacked by silly White-men, +who profess to enlighten the Red-man's darkness. They, in their +ignorance, denounce it as absurd, while men of science know its simple +truth. + +Yan did not know that he had stumbled on a secret of the Indian +medicine bag. But ever afterward that wonderful day was called back to +him, conjured up by his "medicine," this simple, natural magic, the +smell of the Wintergreen. + +He appreciated that morning more than he could tell, and yet he did a +characteristic foolish thing, that put him in a wrong light and left +him so in the stranger's mind. + +It was past noon. They had long lingered; the Stranger spoke of the +many things he had at home; then at length said he must be going. +"Weel, good-by, laddie; Ah hope Ah'll see you again." He held out his +hand. Yan shook it warmly; but he was dazed with thinking and with +reaction; his diffidence and timidity were strong; he never rose to +the stranger's veiled offer. He let him go without even learning his +name or address. + +When it was too late, Yan awoke to his blunder. He haunted all those +woods in hopes of chancing on him there again, but he never did. + + + + +VI + +Glenyan + + +Oh! what a song the Wild Geese sang that year! How their trumpet clang +went thrilling in his heart, to smite there new and hidden chords that +stirred and sang response. Was there ever a nobler bird than that +great black-necked Swan, that sings not at his death, but in his flood +of life, a song of home and of peace--of stirring deeds and hunting +in far-off climes--of hungerings and food, and raging thirsts to meet +with cooling drink. A song of wind and marching, a song of bursting +green and grinding ice--of Arctic secrets and of hidden ways. A song +of a long black marsh, a low red sky, and a sun that never sets. + +An Indian jailed for theft bore bravely through the winter, but when +the springtime brought the Gander-clang in the black night sky, he +started, fell, and had gone to his last, long, hunting home. + +Who can tell why Jericho should fall at the trumpet blast? + +Who can read or measure the power of the Honker-song? + +Oh, what a song the Wild Geese sang that year! And yet, was it a new +song? No, the old, old song, but Yan heard it with new ears. He was +learning to read its message. He wandered on their trailless track, as +often as he could, northward, ever northward, up the river from the +town, and up, seeking the loneliest ways and days. The river turned to +the east, but a small stream ran into it from the north: up that Yan +went through thickening woods and walls that neared each other, on and +up until the walls closed to a crack, then widened out into a little +dale that was still full of original forest trees. Hemlock, Pine, +Birch and Elm of the largest size abounded and spread over the clear +brook a continuous shade. Fox vines trailed in the open places, the +rarest wild-flowers flourished, Red-squirrels chattered from the +trees. In the mud along the brook-side were tracks of Coon and Mink +and other strange fourfoots. And in the trees overhead, the Veery, the +Hermit-thrush, or even a Woodthrush sang his sweetly solemn strain, in +that golden twilight of the midday forest. Yan did not know them all +by name as yet, but he felt their vague charm and mystery. It seemed +such a far and lonely place, so unspoiled by man, that Yan persuaded +himself that surely he was the first human being to stand there, that +it was his by right of discovery, and so he claimed it and named it +after its discoverer--Glenyan. + +This place became the central thought in his life. He went there at +all opportunities, but never dared to tell any one of his discovery. +He longed for a confidant sometimes, he hankered to meet the stranger +and take him there, and still he feared that the secret would get out. +This was his little kingdom; the Wild Geese had brought him here, as +the Seagulls had brought Columbus to a new world--where he could lead, +for brief spells, the woodland life that was his ideal. He was tender +enough to weep over the downfall of a lot of fine Elm trees in town, +when their field was sold for building purposes, and he used to suffer +a sort of hungry regret when old settlers told how plentiful the Deer +used to be. But now he had a relief from these sorrows, for surely +there was one place where the great trees should stand and grow as in +the bright bygone; where the Coon, the Mink and the Partridge should +live and flourish forever. No, indeed, no one else should know of it, +for if the secret got out, at least hosts of visitors would come and +Glenyan be defiled. No, better that the secret should "die with him," +he said. What that meant he did not really know, but he had read the +phrase somewhere and he liked the sound of it. Possibly he would +reveal it on his deathbed. + +Yes, that was the proper thing, and he pictured a harrowing scene of +weeping relatives around, himself as central figure, all ceasing their +wailing and gasping with wonder as he made known the mighty secret of +his life--delicious! it was almost worth dying for. + +So he kept the place to himself and loved it more and more. He would +look out through the thick Hemlock tops, the blots of Basswood green +or the criss-cross Butternut leafage and say: "My own, my own." Or +down by some pool in the limpid stream he would sit and watch the +arrowy Shiners and say: "You are mine, all; you are mine. You shall +never be harmed or driven away." + +A spring came from the hillside by a green lawn, and here Yan would +eat his sandwiches varied with nuts and berries that he did not like, +but ate only because he was a wildman, and would look lovingly up the +shady brookland stretches and down to the narrow entrance of the glen, +and say and think and feel. "This is mine, my own, my very own." + + + + +VII + +The Shanty + + +He had none but the poorest of tools, but he set about building a +shanty. He was not a resourceful boy. His effort to win the book +had been an unusual one for him, as his instincts were not at all +commercial. When that matter came to the knowledge of the Home +Government, he was rebuked for doing "work unworthy of a gentleman's +son" and forbidden under frightful penalties "ever again to resort to +such degrading ways of raising money." + +They gave him no money, so he was penniless. Most boys would have +possessed themselves somehow of a good axe and spade. He had neither. +An old plane blade, fastened to a stick with nails, was all the axe +and spade he had, yet with this he set to work and offset its poorness +as a tool by dogged persistency. First, he selected the quietest +spot near the spring--a bank hidden by a mass of foliage. He knew no +special reason for hiding it, beyond the love of secrecy. He had +read in some of his books "how the wily scouts led the way through a +pathless jungle, pulled aside a bough and there revealed a comfortable +dwelling that none without the secret could possibly have discovered," +so it seemed very proper to make it a complete mystery--a sort of +secret panel in the enchanted castle--and so picture himself as the +wily scout leading his wondering companions to the shanty, though, of +course, he had not made up his mind to reveal his secret to any one. +He often wished he could have the advantage of Rad's strong arms and +efficacious tools; but the workshop incident was only one of many that +taught him to leave his brother out of all calculation. + +Mother Earth is the best guardian of a secret, and Yan with his crude +spade began by digging a hole in the bank. The hard blue clay made the +work slow, but two holidays spent in steady labour resulted in a hole +seven feet wide and about four feet into the bank. + +In this he set about building the shanty. Logs seven or eight feet +long must be got to the place--at least twenty-five or thirty would +be needed, and how to cut and handle them with his poor axe was a +question. Somehow, he never looked for a better axe. The half-formed +notion that the Indians had no better was sufficient support, and he +struggled away bravely, using whatever ready sized material he could +find. Each piece as he brought it was put into place. Some boys would +have gathered the logs first and built it all at once, but that +was not Yan's way; he was too eager to see the walls rise. He had +painfully and slowly gathered logs enough to raise the walls three +rounds, when the question of a door occurred to him. This, of course, +could not be cut through the logs in the ordinary way; that required +the best of tools. So he lifted out all the front logs except the +lowest, replacing them at the ends with stones and blocks to sustain +the sides. This gave him the sudden gain of two logs, and helped the +rest of the walls that much. The shanty was now about three feet high, +and no two logs in it were alike: some were much too long, most were +crooked and some were half rotten, for the simple reason that these +were the only ones he could cut. He had exhausted the logs in the +neighbourhood and was forced to go farther. Now he remembered seeing +one that might do, half a mile away on the home trail (they were +always "trails"; he never called them "roads" or "paths"). He went +after this, and to his great surprise and delight found that it was +one of a dozen old cedar posts that had been cut long before and +thrown aside as culls, or worthless. He could carry only one at a +time, so that to bring each one meant a journey of a mile, and the +post got woefully heavy each time before that mile was over. To +get those twelve logs he had twelve miles to walk. It took several +Saturdays, but he stuck doggedly to it. Twelve good logs completed +his shanty, making it five feet high and leaving three logs over for +rafters. These he laid flat across, dividing the spaces equally. Over +them he laid plenty of small sticks and branches till it was thickly +covered. Then he went down to a rank, grassy meadow and, with his +knife, cut hay for a couple of hours. This was spread thickly on the +roof, to be covered with strips of Elm bark then on top of all he +threw the clay dug from the bank, piling it well back, stamping on it, +and working it down at the edges. Finally, he threw rubbish and leaves +over it, so that it was confused with the general tangle. + +Thus the roof was finished, but the whole of the front was open. He +dreaded the search for more logs, so tried a new plan. He found, +first, some sticks about six feet long and two or three inches +through. Not having an axe to sharpen and drive them, he dug pairs of +holes a foot deep, one at each end and another pair near the middle of +the front ground log. + +Into each of these he put a pair of upright sticks, leading up to the +eave log, one inside and one outside of it, then packed the earth +around them in the holes. Next, he went to the brook-side and cut a +number of long green willow switches about half an inch thick at the +butt. These switches he twisted around the top of each pair of stakes +in a figure 8, placing them to hold the stake tight against the bottom +and top logs at the front. + +Down by the spring he now dug a hole and worked water and clay +together into mortar, then with a trowel cut out of a shingle, and +mortar carried in an old bucket, he built a wall within the stakes, +using sticks laid along the outside and stones set in mud till the +front was closed up, except a small hole for a window and a large hole +for a door. + +Now he set about finishing the inside. He gathered moss in the woods +and stuffed all the chinks in the upper parts, and those next the +ground he filled with stones and earth. Thus the shanty was finished; +but it lacked a door. + +The opening was four feet high and two feet wide, so in the woodshed +at home he cut three boards, each eight inches wide and four feet +high, but he left at each end of one a long point. Doing this at home +gave him the advantage of a saw. Then with these and two shorter +boards, each two feet long and six inches wide, he sneaked out to +Glenyan, and there, with some nails and a stone for a hammer, he +fastened them together into a door. In the ground log he pecked a hole +big enough to receive one of the points and made a corresponding hole +in the under side of the top log. Then, prying up the eave log, he put +the door in place, let the eave log down again, and the door was hung. +A string to it made an outside fastening when it was twisted around a +projecting snag in the wall, and a peg thrust into a hole within made +an inside fastener. Some logs, with fir boughs and dried grass, formed +a bunk within. This left only the window, and for lack of better cover +he fastened over it a piece of muslin brought from home. But finding +its dull white a jarring note, he gathered a quart of butternuts, and +watching his chance at home, he boiled the cotton in water with the +nuts and so reduced it to a satisfactory yellowish brown. + +His final task was to remove all appearance of disturbance and to +fully hide the shanty in brush and trailing vines. Thus, after weeks +of labour, his woodland home was finished. It was only five feet high +inside, six feet long and six feet wide--dirty and uncomfortable--but +what a happiness it was to have it. + +Here for the first time in his life he began to realize something +of the pleasure of single-handed achievement in the line of a great +ambition. + + + + +VIII + +Beginnings of Woodlore + + +During this time Yan had so concentrated all his powers on the shanty +that he had scarcely noticed the birds and wild things. Such was his +temperament--one idea only, and that with all his strength. + +His heart was more and more in his kingdom now he longed to come +and live here. But he only dared to dream that some day he might be +allowed to pass a night in the shanty. This was where he would lead +his ideal life--the life of an Indian with all that is bad and cruel +left out. Here he would show men how to live without cutting down all +the trees, spoiling all the streams, and killing every living thing. +He would learn how to get the fullest pleasure out of the woods +himself and then teach others how to do the same. Though the birds and +Fourfoots fascinated him, he would not have hesitated to shoot one +had he been able, but to see a tree cut down always caused him +great distress. Possibly he realized that the bird might be quickly +replaced, but the tree, never. + +To carry out his plan he must work hard at school, for books had +much that he needed. Perhaps some day he might get a chance to see +Audubon's drawings, and so have all his bird worries settled by a +single book. + +That summer a new boy at school added to Yan's savage equipment. This +boy was neither good nor bright; he was a dunce, and had been expelled +from a boarding school for misconduct, but he had a number of +schoolboy accomplishments that gave him a tinge of passing glory. +He could tie a lot of curious knots in a string. He could make a +wonderful birdy warble, and he spoke a language that he called Tutnee. +Yan was interested in all, but especially the last. He teased and +bribed till he was admitted to the secret. It consisted in spelling +every word, leaving the five vowels as they are, but doubling each +consonant and putting a "u" between. Thus "b" became "bub," "d" "dud," +"m" "mum," and so forth, except that "c" was "suk," "h" "hash," "x" +"zux," and "w" "wak." + +The sample given by the new boy, "sus-hash-u-tut u-pup yak-o-u-rur +mum-o-u-tut-hash," was said to be a mode of enjoining silence. + +This language was "awful useful," the new boy said, to keep the other +fellows from knowing what you were saying, which it certainly did. Yan +practised hard at it and within a few weeks was an adept. He could +handle the uncouth sentences better than his teacher, and he was +singularly successful in throwing in accents and guttural tones that +imparted a delightfully savage flavour, and he rejoiced in jabbering +away to the new boy in the presence of others so that he might bask in +the mystified look on the faces of those who were not skilled in the +tongue of the Tutnees. + +He made himself a bow and arrows. They were badly made and he could +hit nothing with them, but he felt so like an Indian when he drew the +arrow to its head, that it was another pleasure. + +He made a number of arrows with hoop-iron heads, these he could +file at home in the woodshed. The heads were jagged and barbed and +double-barbed. These arrows were frightful-looking things. They seemed +positively devilish in their ferocity, and were proportionately +gratifying. These he called his "war arrows," and would send one into +a tree and watch it shiver, then grunt "Ugh, heap good," and rejoice +in the squirming of the imaginary foe he had pierced. + +He found a piece of sheepskin and made of it a pair of very poor +moccasins. He ground an old castaway putty knife into a scalping +knife; the notch in it for breaking glass was an annoying defect until +he remembered that some Indians decorate their weapons with a notch +for each enemy it has killed, and this, therefore, might do duty as a +kill-tally. He made a sheath for the knife out of scraps of leather +left off the moccasins. Some water-colours, acquired by a school swap, +and a bit of broken mirror held in a split stick, were necessary parts +of his Indian toilet. His face during the process of make-up was +always a battle-ground between the horriblest Indian scowl +and a grin of delight at his success in diabolizing his visage with +the paints. Then with painted face and a feather in his hair he would +proudly range the woods in his little kingdom and store up every scrap +of woodlore he could find, invent or learn from his schoolmates. + +[Illustration: Yan's toilet] + +Odd things that he found in the woods he would bring to his shanty: +curled sticks, feathers, bones, skulls, fungus, shells, an old +cowhorn--things that interested him, he did not know why. He made +Indian necklaces of the shells, strung together alternately with +the backbone of a fish. He let his hair grow as long as possible, +employing various stratagems, even the unpalatable one of combing it +to avoid the monthly trim of the maternal scissors. He lay for hours +with the sun beating on his face to correct his colour to standard, +and the only semblance of personal vanity that he ever had was +pleasure in hearing disparaging remarks about the darkness of his +complexion. He tried to do everything as an Indian would do it, +striking Indian poses, walking carefully with his toes turned in, +breaking off twigs to mark a place, guessing at the time by the sun, +and grunting "Ugh" or "Wagh" when anything surprised him. Disparaging +remarks about White-men, delivered in supposed Indian dialect, were +an important part of his pastime. "Ugh, White-men heap no good" and +"Wagh, paleface--pale fool in woods," were among his favourites. + +He was much influenced by phrases that caught his ear. "The brown +sinewy arm of the Indian," was one of them. It discovered to him that +his own arms were white as milk. There was, however, a simple remedy. +He rolled up his sleeves to the shoulder and exposed them to the full +glare of the sun. Then later, under the spell of the familiar phrase, +"The warrior was naked to the waist," he went a step further--he +determined to be brown to the waist--so discarded his shirt during the +whole of one holiday. He always went to extremes. He remembered now +that certain Indians put their young warriors through an initiation +called the Sun-dance, so he danced naked round the fire in the blazing +sun and sat around naked all one day. + +He noticed a general warmness before evening, but it was at night that +he really felt the punishment of his indiscretion. He was in a burning +heat. He scarcely slept all night. Next day he was worse, and his arm +and shoulder were blistered. He bore it bravely, fearing only that the +Home Government might find it out, in which case he would have fared +worse. He had read that the Indians grease the skin for sunburn, so he +went to the bathroom and there used goose grease for lack of Buffalo +fat. This did give some relief, and in a few days he was better and +had the satisfaction of peeling the dead skin from his shoulders and +arms. + +Yan made a number of vessels out of Birch bark, stitching the edges +with root fibers, filling the bottom with a round wooden disc, and +cementing the joints with pine gum so that they would hold water. + +In the distant river he caught some Catfish and brought them +home--that, is, to his shanty. There he made a fire and broiled +them--very badly--but he ate them as a great delicacy. The sharp bone +in each of their side fins he saved, bored a hole through its thick +end, smoothed it, and so had needles to stitch his Birch bark. He kept +them in a bark box with some lumps of resin, along with some bark +fiber, an Indian flint arrow-head given him by a schoolmate, and +the claws of a large Owl, found in the garbage heap back of the +taxidermist's shop. + +One day on the ash heap in their own yard in town he saw a new, +strange bird. He was always seeing new birds, but this was of unusual +interest. He drew its picture as it tamely fed near him. A dull, ashy +gray, with bronzy yellow spots on crown and rump, and white bars on +its wings. His "Birds of Canada" gave no light; he searched through +all the books he could find, but found no clew to its name. It was +years afterward before he learned that this was the young male Pine +Grosbeak. + +Another day, under the bushes not far from his shanty, he found a +small Hawk lying dead. He clutched it as a wonderful prize, spent an +hour in looking at its toes, its beak, its wings, its every feather; +then he set to work to make a drawing of it. A very bad drawing it +proved, although it was the labour of days, and the bird was crawling +with maggots before he had finished. But every feather and every spot +was faithfully copied, was duly set down on paper. One of his +friends said it was a Chicken-hawk. That name stuck in Yan's memory. +Thenceforth the Chicken-hawk and its every marking were familiar to +him. Even in after years, when he had learned that this must have been +a young "Sharp-shin," the name "Chicken-hawk" was always readier on +his lips. + +But he met with another and a different Hawk soon afterward. This one +was alive and flitting about in the branches of a tree over his head. +It was very small--less than a foot in length. Its beak was very +short, its legs, wings and tail long; its head was bluish and its back +coppery red; on the tail was a broad, black crossbar. As the bird flew +about and balanced on the boughs, it pumped its tail. This told him +it was a Hawk, and the colours he remembered were those of the male +Sparrow-hawk, for here his bird book helped with its rude travesty of +"Wilson's" drawing of this bird. Yet two other birds he saw close at +hand and drew partly from memory. The drawings were like this, and +from the picture on a calendar he learned that one was a Rail; from +a drawing in the bird book that the other was a Bobolink. And these +names he never forgot. He had his doubts about the sketching at +first--it seemed an un-Indian thing to do, until he remembered that +the Indians painted pictures on their shields and on their teepees. It +was really the best of all ways for him to make reliable observation. + +The bookseller of the town had some new books in his window about this +time. One, a marvellous work called "Poisonous Plants," Yan was eager +to see. It was exposed in the window for a time. Two of the large +plates were visible from the street; one was Henbane, the other +Stramonium. Yan gazed at them as often as he could. In a week they +were gone; but the names and looks were forever engraved on his +memory. Had he made bold to go in and ask permission to see the work, +his memory would have seized most of it in an hour. + + + + +IX + +Tracks + + +In the wet sand down by the edge of the brook he one day found some +curious markings--evidently tracks. Yan pored over them, then made a +life-size drawing of one. He shrewdly suspected it to be the track of +a Coon--nothing was too good or wild or rare for his valley. As soon +as he could, he showed the track to the stableman whose dog was said +to have killed a Coon once, and hence the man must be an authority on +the subject. + +"Is that a Coon track?" asked Yan timidly. + +"How do I know?" said the man roughly, and went on with his work. But +a stranger standing near, a curious person with shabby clothes, and +a new silk hat on the back of his head, said, "Let me see it." Yan +showed it. + +"Is it natural size?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Yep, that's a Coon track, all right. You look at all the big trees +near about whar you saw that; then when you find one with a hole in +it, you look on the bark and you will find some Coon hars. Then you +will know you've got a Coon tree." + +[Illustration: The Coon track] + +Yan took the earliest chance. He sought and found a great Basswood +with some gray hairs caught in the bark. He took them home with him, +not sure what kind they were. He sought the stranger, but he was gone, +and no one knew him. + +How to identify the hairs was a question; but he remembered a friend +who had a Coon-skin carriage robe. A few hairs of these were compared +with those from the tree and left no doubt that the climber was a +Coon. Thus Yan got the beginning of the idea that the very hairs of +each, as well as its tracks, are different. He learned, also, how wise +it is to draw everything that he wished to observe or describe. It +was accident, or instinct on his part, but he had fallen on a sound +principle; there is nothing like a sketch to collect and convey +accurate information of form--there is no better developer of true +observation. + +One day he noticed a common plant like an umbrella. He dug it up by +the root, and at the lower end he found a long white bulb. He tasted +this. It was much like a cucumber. He looked up "Gray's School +Botany," and in the index saw the name, Indian Cucumber. The +description seemed to tally, as far as he could follow its technical +terms, though like all such, without a drawing it was far from +satisfactory. So he added the Indian Cucumber to his woodlore. + +On another occasion he chewed the leaves of a strange plant because he +had heard that that was the first test applied by the Indians. He soon +began to have awful pains in his stomach. He hurried home in agony. +His mother gave him mustard and water till he vomited, then she boxed +his ears. His father came in during the process and ably supplemented +the punishment. He was then and there ordered to abstain forever from +the woods. Of course, he did not. He merely became more cautious about +it all, and enjoyed his shanty with the added zest of secret sin. + + + + +X + +Biddy's Contribution + + +An Irish-Canadian servant girl from Sanger now became a member of +their household. Her grandmother was an herb-doctor in great repute. +She had frequently been denounced as a witch, although in good +standing as a Catholic. This girl had picked up some herb-lore, and +one day when all the family were visiting the cemetery she darted into +various copses and produced plants which she named, together with the +complaint that her grandmother used them for. + +"Sassafras, that makes tea for skin disease; Ginseng, that's good to +sell; Bloodroot for the blood in springtime; Goldthread, that cures +sore mouths; Pipsissewa for chills and fever; White-man's Foot, that +springs up wherever a White-man treads; Indian cup, that grows where +an Indian dies; Dandelion roots for coffee; Catnip tea for a cold; +Lavender tea for drinking at meals; Injun Tobacco to mix with boughten +tobacco; Hemlock bark to dye pink; Goldthread to dye yellow, and +Butternut rinds for greenish." + +All of these were passing trifles to the others, but to Yan they were +the very breath of life, and he treasured up all of these things +in his memory. Biddy's information was not unmixed with error and +superstition: + +"Hold Daddy Longlegs by one leg and say, 'tell me where the cows are,' +and he will point just right under another leg, and onct he told me +where to find my necklace when I lost it. + +"Shoot the Swallows and the cows give bloody milk. That's the way old +Sam White ruined his milk business--shooting Swallows. + +"Lightning never strikes a barn where Swallows nest. Paw never rested +easy after the new barn was built till the Swallows nested in it. He +had it insured for a hundred dollars till the Swallows got round to +look after it. + +"When a Measuring-worm crawls on you, you are going to get a new suit +of clothes. My brother-in-law says they walk over him every year in +summer and sure enough, he gets a new suit. But they never does it in +winter, cause he don't get new clothes then. + +"Split a Crow's tongue and he will talk like a girl. Granny knowed a +man that had a brother back of Mara that got a young Crow and +split his tongue an' he told Granny it was _just_ like a girl +talking--an' Granny told me! + +"Soak a Horse-hair in rainwater and it will turn into a Snake. Ain't +there lots uv Snakes around ponds where Horses drink? Well! + +"Kill a Spider an' it will rain to-morrow. Now, that's worth knowin'. +I mind one year when the Orangeman's picnic was comin', 12th of July, +Maw made us catch twenty Spiders and we killed them all the day +before, and law, how it did rain on the picnic! Mebbe we didn't laugh. +Most of them hed to go home in boats, that's what our paper said. But +next year they done the same thing on us for St. Patrick's Day, but +Spiders is scarce on the 16th of March, an' it didn't rain so much as +snow, so it was about a stand-off. + +"Toads gives warts. You seen them McKenna twins--their hands is a +sight with warts. Well, I seen them two boys playing with Toads like +they was marbles. So! An' they might a-knowed what was comin'. Ain't +every Toad just covered with warts as thick as he can stick? + +"That there's Injun tobacco. The Injuns always use it, and Granny +does, too, sometimes." (Yan made special note of this--he must get +some and smoke it, if it was _Indian_.) + +"A Witch-hazel wand will bob over a hidden spring and show where to +dig. Denny Scully is awful good at it. He gets a dollar for showing +where to sink a well, an' if they don't strike water it's because they +didn't dig where he said, or spiled the charm some way or nuther, and +hez to try over. + +"Now, that's Dandelion. Its roots makes awful good coffee. Granny +allers uses it. She says that it is healthier than store coffee, but +Maw says she likes boughten things best, and the more they cost the +better she likes them. + +"Now, that's Ginseng. It has a terrible pretty flower in spring. +There's tons and tons of it sent to China. Granny says the Chinese +eats it, to make them cheerful, but they don't seem to eat enough. + +"There's Slippery Elm. It's awfully good for loosening up a cold, if +you drink the juice the bark's bin biled in. One spring Granny made a +bucketful. She set it outside to cool, an' the pig he drunk it all up, +an' he must a had a cold, for it loosened him up so he dropped his +back teeth. I seen them myself lying out there in the yard. Yes, I +did. + +"That's Wintergreen. Lots of boys I know chew that to make the girls +like them. Lots of them gits a beau that way, too. I done it myself +many's a time. + +"Now, that is what some folks calls Injun Turnip, an' the children +calls it Jack-in-a-Pulpit, but Granny calls it 'Sorry-plant,' cos she +says when any one eats it it makes them feel sorry for the last fool +thing they done. I'll put some in your Paw's coffee next time he licks +yer and mebbe that'll make him quit. It just makes me sick to see ye +gettin' licked fur every little thing ye can't help. + +"A Snake's tongue is its sting. You put your foot on a Snake and see +how he tries to sting you. An' his tail don't die till sundown. I seen +that myself, onct, an' Granny says so, too, an' what Granny don't know +ain't knowledge--it's only book-larnin'." + +These were her superstitions, most of them more or less obviously +absurd to Yan; but she had also a smattering of backwoods lore and Yan +gleaned all he could. + +She had so much of what he wanted to know that he had almost made up +his mind to tell her where he went each Saturday when he had finished +his work. + +A week or two longer and she would have shared the great secret, but +something took place to end their comradeship. + + + + +XI + +Lung Balm + + +One day as this girl went with him through a little grove on the edge +of the town, she stopped at a certain tree and said: + +"If that ain't Black-cherry!" + +"You mean Choke-cherry." + +"No, Black-cherry. Choke-cherry ain't no good; but Black-cherry bark's +awful good for lung complaint. Grandma always keeps it. I've been +feeling a bit queer meself" [she was really as strong as an ox]. +"Guess I'll git some." So she and Yan planned an expedition together. +The boldness of it scared the boy. The girl helped herself to a +hatchet in the tool box--the sacred tool box of his father. + +Yan's mother saw her with it and demanded why she had it. With ready +effrontery she said it was to hammer in the hook that held the +clothesline, and proceeded to carry out the lie with a smiling face. +That gave Yan a new lesson and not a good one. The hatchet was at once +put back in the box, to be stolen more carefully later on. + +Biddy announced that she was going to the grocery shop. She met Yan +around the corner and they made for the lot. Utterly regardless of +property rights, she showed Yan how to chip off the bark of the +Black-cherry. "Don't chip off all around; that's bad luck--take it +on'y from the sunny side." She filled a basket with the pieces and +they returned home. + +Here she filled a jar with bits of the inner layer, then, pouring +water over it, let it stand for a week. The water was then changed to +a dark brown stuff with a bitter taste and a sweet, aromatic smell. + +"It's terrible good," she said. "Granny always keeps it handy. It +cures lots of people. Now there was Bud Ellis--the doctors just guv +him up. They said he didn't have a single lung left, and he come +around to Granny. He used to make fun of Granny; but now he wuz plumb +scairt. At first Granny chased him away; then when she seen that he +was awful sick, she got sorry and told him how to make Lung Balm. He +was to make two gallons each time and bring it to her. Then she took +and fixed it so it was one-half as much and give it back to him. Well, +in six months if he wasn't all right." + +Biddy now complained nightly of "feelin's" in her chest. These +feelings could be controlled only by a glass or two of Lung Balm. +Her condition must have been critical, for one night after several +necessary doses of Balm her head seemed affected. She became +abusive to the lady of the house and at the end of the month a less +interesting help was in her place. + +There were many lessons good and bad that Yan might have drawn from +this; but the only one that he took in was that the Black-cherry bark +is a wonderful remedy. The family doctor said that it really was so, +and Yan treasured up this as a new and precious fragment of woodcraft. + +Having once identified the tree, he was surprised to see that it was +rather common, and was delighted to find it flourishing in his own +Glenyan. + +This made him set down on paper all the trees he knew, and he was +surprised to find how few they were and how uncertain he was about +them. + + Maple--hard and soft. + Beach. + Elm--swamp and slippery. + Ironwood. + Birch--white and black. + Ash--white and black. + Pine. + Cedar. + Balsam. + Hemlock and Cherry. + +He had heard that the Indians knew the name and properties of every +tree and plant in the woods, and that was what he wished to be able to +say of himself. + +One day by the bank of the river he noticed a pile of empty shells of +the fresh-water Mussel, or Clam. The shells were common enough, but +why all together and marked in the same way? Around the pile on the +mud were curious tracks and marks. There were so many that it was hard +to find a perfect one, but when he did, remembering the Coon track, +he drew a picture of it. It was too small to be the mark of his old +acquaintance. He did not find any one to tell him what it was, but one +day he saw a round, brown animal hunched up on the bank eating a clam. +It dived into the water at his approach, but it reappeared swimming +farther on. Then, when it dived again, Yan saw by its long thin +tail that it was a Muskrat, like the stuffed one he had seen in the +taxidermist's window. + +He soon learned that the more he studied those tracks the more +different kinds he found. Many were rather mysterious, so he could +only draw them and put them aside, hoping some day for light. One +of the strangest and most puzzling turned out to be the trail of a +Snapper, and another proved to be merely the track of a Common Crow +that came to the water's edge to drink. + +The curios that he gathered and stored in his shanty increased in +number and in interest. The place became more and more part of +himself. Its concealment bettered as the foliage grew around it again, +and he gloried in its wild seclusion and mystery, and wandered through +the woods with his bow and arrows, aiming harmless, deadly blows at +snickering Red-squirrels--though doubtless he would have been as sorry +as they had he really hit one. + +Yan soon found out that he was not the only resident of the shanty. +One day as he sat inside wondering why he had not made a fireplace, so +that he could sit at an indoor fire, he saw a silent little creature +flit along between two logs in the back wall. He remained still. A +beautiful little Woodmouse, for such it was, soon came out in plain +view and sat up to look at Yan and wash its face. Yan reached out for +his bow and arrow, but the Mouse was gone in a flash. He fitted a +blunt arrow to the string, then waited, and when the Mouse returned he +shot the arrow. It missed the Mouse, struck the log and bounded back +into Yan's face, giving him a stinging blow on the cheek. And as Yan +rolled around grunting and rubbing his cheek, he thought, "This is +what I tried to do to the Woodmouse." Thenceforth, Yan made no attempt +to harm the Mouse; indeed, he was willing to share his meals with it. +In time they became well acquainted, and Yan found that not one, but a +whole family, were sharing with him his shanty in the woods. + +Biddy's remark about the Indian tobacco bore fruit. Yan was not a +smoker, but now he felt he must learn. He gathered a lot of this +tobacco, put it to dry, and set about making a pipe--a real Indian +peace pipe. He had no red sandstone to make it of, but a soft red +brick did very well. He first roughed out the general shape with his +knife, and was trying to bore the bowl out with the same tool, when +he remembered that in one of the school-readers was an account of the +Indian method of drilling into stone with a bow-drill and wet sand. +One of his schoolmates, the son of a woodworker, had seen his father +use a bow-drill. This knowledge gave him new importance in Yan's eyes. +Under his guidance a bow-drill was made, and used much and on many +things till it was understood, and now it did real Indian service by +drilling the bowl and stem holes of the pipe. + +He made a stem of an Elderberry shoot, punching out the pith at home +with a long knitting-needle. Some white pigeon wing feathers trimmed +small, and each tipped with a bit of pitch, were strung on a stout +thread and fastened to the stem for a finishing touch; and he would +sit by his camp fire solemnly smoking--a few draws only, for he did +not like it--then say, "Ugh, heap hungry," knock the ashes out, and +proceed with whatever work he had on hand. + +Thus he spent the bright Saturdays, hiding his accouterments each +day in his shanty, washing the paint from his face in the brook, and +replacing the hated paper collar that the pride and poverty of his +family made a daily necessity, before returning home. He was a little +dreamer, but oh! what happy dreams. Whatever childish sorrow he found +at home he knew he could always come out here and forget and be happy +as a king--be a real King in a Kingdom wholly after his heart, and all +his very own. + + + + +XII + +A Crisis + + +At school he was a model boy except in one respect--he had strange, +uncertain outbreaks of disrespect for his teachers. One day he amused +himself by covering the blackboard with ridiculous caricatures of the +principal, whose favourite he undoubtedly was. They were rather clever +and proportionately galling. The principal set about an elaborate plan +to discover who had done them. He assembled the whole school and began +cross-examining one wretched dunce, thinking him the culprit. The lad +denied it in a confused and guilty way; the principal was convinced of +his guilt, and reached for his rawhide, while the condemned set up a +howl. To the surprise of the assembly, Yan now spoke up, and in a tone +of weary impatience said: + +"Oh, let him alone. I did it." + +His manner and the circumstances were such that every one laughed. The +principal was nettled to fury. He forgot his manhood; he seized Yan +by the collar. He was considered a timid boy; his face was white; his +lips set. The principal beat him with the rawhide till the school +cried "Shame," but he got no cry from Yan. + +That night, on undressing for bed, his brother Rad saw the long black +wales from head to foot, and an explanation was necessary. He was +incapable of lying; his parents learned of his wickedness, and new and +harsh punishments were added. Next day was Saturday. He cut his usual +double or Saturday's share of wood for the house, and, bruised and +smarting, set out for the one happy spot he knew. The shadow lifted +from his spirit as he drew near. He was already forming a plan for +adding a fireplace and chimney to his house. He followed the secret +path he had made with aim to magnify its secrets. He crossed the open +glade, was, nearly at the shanty, when he heard voices--loud, coarse +voices--_coming from his shanty_. He crawled up close. The door +was open. There in his dear cabin were three tramps playing cards and +drinking out of a bottle. On the ground beside them were his shell +necklaces broken up to furnish poker chips. In a smouldering fire +outside were the remains of his bow and arrows. + +Poor Yan! His determination to be like an Indian under torture +had sustained him in the teacher's cruel beating and in his home +punishments, but this was too much. He fled to a far and quiet corner +and there flung himself down and sobbed in grief and rage--he would +have killed them if he could. After an hour or two he came trembling +back to see the tramps finish their game and their liquor; then they +defiled the shanty and left it in ruins. + +The brightest thing in his life was gone--a King discrowned, +dethroned. Feeling now every wale on his back and legs, he sullenly +went home. + +This was late in the summer. Autumn followed last, with shortening +days and chilly winds. Yan had no chance to see his glen, even had he +greatly wished it. He became more studious; books were his pleasure +now. He worked harder than ever, winning honour at school, but +attracting no notice at the home, where piety reigned. + +The teachers and some of the boys remarked that Yan was getting very +thin and pale. Never very robust, he now looked like an invalid; but +at home no note was taken of the change. His mother's thoughts were +all concentrated on his scapegrace younger brother. For two years she +had rarely spoken to Yan peaceably. There was a hungry place in +his heart as he left the house unnoticed each morning and saw his +graceless brother kissed and darlinged. At school their positions +were reversed. Yan was the principal's pride. He had drawn no more +caricatures, and the teacher flattered himself that that beating was +what had saved the pale-faced head boy. + +He grew thinner and heart-hungrier till near Christmas, when the +breakdown came. + + * * * * * + +"He is far gone in consumption," said the physician. "He cannot live +over a month or two" + +[Illustration: "There in his dear cabin were three tramps"] + +"He _must_ live," sobbed the conscience-stricken mother. "He must +live--O God, he must live." + +All that suddenly awakened mother's love could do was done. The +skilful physician did his best, but it was the mother that saved him. +She watched over him night and day; she studied his wishes and comfort +in every way. She prayed by his bedside, and often asked God to +forgive her for her long neglect. It was Yan's first taste of +mother-love. Why she had ignored him so long was unknown. She was +simply erratic, but now she awoke to his brilliant gifts, his steady, +earnest life, already purposeful. + + + + +XIII + +The Lynx + + +As winter waned, Yan's strength returned. He was wise enough to use +his new ascendency to get books. The public librarian, a man of broad +culture who had fought his own fight, became interested in him, and +helped him to many works that otherwise he would have missed. + +"Wilson's Ornithology" and "Schoolcraft's Indians" were the most +important. And they were sparkling streams in the thirst-parched land. + +In March he was fast recovering. He could now take long walks; and one +bright day of snow he set off with his brother's Dog. His steps bent +hillward. The air was bright and bracing, he stepped with unexpected +vigour, and he made for far Glenyan, without at first meaning to go +there. But, drawn by the ancient attraction, he kept on. The secret +path looked not so secret, now the leaves were off; but the Glen +looked dearly familiar as he reached the wider stretch. + +His eye fell on a large, peculiar track quite fresh in the snow. It +was five inches across, big enough for a Bear track, but there were no +signs of claws or toe pads. The steps were short and the tracks had +not sunken as they would for an animal as heavy as a Bear. + +As one end of each showed the indications of toes, he could see what +way it went, and followed up the Glen. The dog sniffed at it uneasily, +but showed no disposition to go ahead. Yan tramped up past the ruins +of his shanty, now painfully visible since the leaves had fallen, and +his heart ached at the sight. The trail led up the valley, and crossed +the brook on a log, and Yan became convinced that he was on the track +of a large Lynx. Though a splendid barker, Grip, the dog, was known to +be a coward, and now he slunk behind the boy, sniffing at the great +track and absolutely refusing to go ahead. + +Yan was fascinated by the long rows of footprints, and when he came +to a place where the creature had leaped ten or twelve feet without +visible cause, he felt satisfied that he had found a Lynx, and the +love of adventure prompted him to go on, although he had not even a +stick in his hand or a knife in his pocket. He picked up the best club +he could find--a dry branch two feet long and two inches through, and +followed. The dog was now unwilling to go at all; he hung back, and +had to be called at each hundred yards. + +They were at last in the dense Hemlock woods at the upper end of the +valley, when a peculiar sound like the call of a deep-voiced cat was +heard. + +_Yow! Yow! Yowl!_ + +Yan stood still. The dog, although a large and powerful retriever, +whimpered, trembled and crawled up close. + +The sound increased in volume. The yowling _meouw_ came louder, +louder and nearer, then suddenly clear and close, as though the +creature had rounded a point and entered an opening. It was positively +blood-curdling now. The dog could stand it no more; he turned and went +as fast as he could for home, leaving Yan to his fate. There was no +longer any question that it was a Lynx. Yan had felt nervous before +and the abject flight of the dog reacted on him. He realized how +defenseless he was, still weak from his illness, and he turned and +went after the dog. At first he walked. But having given in to his +fears, they increased; and as the yowling continued he finally ran his +fastest. The sounds were left behind, but Yan never stopped until he +had left the Glen and was once more in the open valley of the river. +Here he found the valiant retriever trembling all over. Yan received +him with a contemptuous kick, and, boylike, as soon as he could find +some stones, he used them till Grip was driven home. + + * * * * * + +Most lads have some sporting instinct, and his elder brother, though +not of Yan's tastes, was not averse to going gunning when there was a +prospect of sport. + +Yan decided to reveal to Rad the secret of his glen. He had never been +allowed to use a gun, but Rad had one, and Yan's vivid account of his +adventure had the desired effect. His method was characteristic. + +[Illustration: "It surely was a Lynx."] + +"Rad, would you go huntin' if there was lots to hunt?" + +"Course I would." + +"Well, I know a place not ten miles away where there are all kinds of +wild animals--hundreds of them." + +"Yes, you do, I don't think. Humph!" + +"Yes, I do; and I'll tell you, if you will promise never to tell a +soul." + +"Ba-ah!" + +"Well, I just had an adventure with a Lynx up there now, and if you +will come with your gun we can get him." + +Then Yan related all that had passed, and it lost nothing in his +telling. His brother was impressed enough to set out under Yan's +guidance on the following Saturday. + +Yan hated to reveal to his sneering, earthy-minded brother all the +joys and sorrows he had found in the Glen, but now that it seemed +compulsory he found keen pleasure in playing the part of the crafty +guide. With unnecessary caution he first led in a wrong direction, +then trying, but failing, to extort another promise of secrecy, he +turned at an angle, pointed to a distant tree, saying with all the +meaning he could put into it: "Ten paces beyond that tree is a trail +that shall lead us into the secret valley." After sundry other +ceremonies of the sort, they were near the inway, when a man came +walking through the bushes. On his shoulders he carried something. +When he came close, Yan saw to his deep disgust that that something +was the Lynx--yes, it surely was _his_ Lynx. + +They eagerly plied the man with questions. He told them that he had +killed it the day before, really. It had been prowling for the last +week or more about Kernore's bush; probably it was a straggler from up +north. + +This was all intensely fascinating to Yan, but in it was a jarring +note. Evidently this man considered the Glen--his Glen--as an +ordinary, well-known bit of bush, possibly part of his farm--not by +any means the profound mystery that Yan would have had it. + +The Lynx was a fine large one. The stripes on its face and the wide +open yellow eyes gave a peculiarly wild, tiger-like expression that +was deeply gratifying to Yan's romantic soul. + +It was not so much of an adventure as a might-have-been adventure; +but it left a deep impress on the boy, and it also illustrated the +accuracy of his instincts in identifying creatures that he had never +before seen, but knew only through the slight descriptions of very +unsatisfactory books. + + + + +XIV + +Froth + + +From now on to the spring Yan was daily gaining in strength, and he +and his mother came closer together. She tried to take an interest in +the pursuits that were his whole nature. But she also strove hard to +make him take an interest in her world. She was a morbidly religious +woman. Her conversation was bristling with Scripture texts. She had +a vast store of them--indeed, she had them all; and she used them on +every occasion possible and impossible, with bewildering efficiency. + +If ever she saw a group of young people dancing, romping, playing any +game, or even laughing heartily, she would interrupt them to say, +"Children, are you sure you can ask God's blessing on all this? Do you +think that beings with immortal souls to save should give rein to such +frivolity! I fear you are sinning, and be sure your sin will find +you out. Remember, that for every idle word and deed we must give an +account to the Great Judge of Heaven and earth." + +She was perfectly sincere in all this, but she never ceased, except +during the time of her son's illness, when, under orders from the +doctor, she avoided the painful topic of eternal happiness and tried +to simulate an interest in his pursuits. This was the blessed truce +that brought them together. + +He found a confidante for the first time since he met the collarless +stranger, and used to tell all his loves and fears among the woodfolk +and things. He would talk about this or that bird or flower, and hoped +to find out its name, till the mother would suddenly feel shocked that +any being with an immortal soul to save could talk so seriously +about anything outside of the Bible; then gently reprove her son and +herself, too, with a number of texts. + +He might reply with others, for he was well equipped. But her +unanswerable answer would be: "There is but one thing needful. What +profiteth it a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" + +These fencing bouts grew more frequent as Yan grew stronger and the +doctor's inhibition was removed. + +After one of unusual warmth, Yan realized with a chill that all her +interest in his pursuits had been an affected one. He was silent a +long time, then said: "Mother! you like to talk about your Bible. It +tells you the things that you long to know, that you love to learn. +You would be unhappy if you went a day without reading a chapter or +two. That is your nature; God made you so. + +"I have been obliged to read the Bible all my life. Every day I read a +chapter; but I do not love it. I read it because I am forced to do it. +It tells me nothing I want to know. It does not teach me to love God, +which you say is the one thing needful. But I go out into the woods, +and every bird and flower I see stirs me to the heart with something, +I do not know what it is; only I love them: I love them with all my +strength, and they make me feel like praying when your Bible does not. +They are my Bible. This is my nature. God made me so." + +The mother was silent after this, but Yan could see that she was +praying for him as for a lost soul. + +A few days later they were out walking in the early spring morning. +A Shore-lark on a clod whistled prettily as it felt the growing +sunshine. + +Yan strained his eyes and attention to take it in. He crept up near +it. It took wing, and as it went he threw after it a short stick he +was carrying. The stick whirled over and struck the bird. It fell +fluttering. Yan rushed wildly after it and caught it in spite of his +mother's calling him back. + +He came with the bird in his hand, but it did not live many minutes. +His mother was grieved and disgusted. She said. "So this is the great +love you have for the wild things; the very first spring bird to sing +you must club to death. I do not understand your affections. Are not +two sparrows sold for one farthing, and yet not one of them falls to +the ground without the knowledge of your heavenly Father." + +Yan was crushed. He held the dead bird in his hand and said, +contradictorily, as the tears stood in his eyes, "I wish I hadn't; but +oh, it was so beautiful." + +He could not explain, because he did not understand, and yet was no +hypocrite. + +Weeks later a cheap trip gave him the chance for the first time in his +life to see Niagara. As he stood with his mother watching the racing +flood, in the gorge below the cataract, he noticed straws, bubbles and +froth, that seemed to be actually moving upstream. He said: + +"Mother, you see the froth how it seems to go up-stream." + +"Well!" + +"Yet we know it is a trifle and means nothing. We know that just below +the froth is the deep, wide, terrible, irresistible, arrowy flood, +surging all the other way." + +"Yes, my son." + +"Well, Mother, when I killed the Shore-lark, that was froth going the +wrong way, I did love the little bird. I know now why I killed it. +Because it was going away from me. If I could have seen it near and +could have touched it, or even have heard it every day, I should never +have wished to harm it. I didn't mean _to kill it_, only _to +get it_. You gather flowers because you love to keep them near you, +not because you want to destroy them. They die and you are sorry. I +only tried to gather the Shore-lark as you would a flower. It died, +and I was very, very sorry." + +"Nevertheless," the mother replied, "the merciful man is merciful unto +his beast. He who hearkens when the young Ravens cry, surely took note +of it, and in His great Book of Remembrance it is written down against +you." + +And from that time they surely drifted apart. + + + + + + +PART II + +SANGER & SAM + + + + +I + +The New Home + + +Yan was now fourteen years old long-legged, thin, and growing fast The +doctor marked this combination and said: "Send him on a farm for a +year." + +Thus it was that an arrangement was made for Yan to work for his board +at the farmhouse of William Raften of Sanger. + +Sanger was a settlement just emerging from the early or backwoods +period. + +The recognized steps are, first, the frontier or woods where all +is unbroken forest and Deer abound; next the backwoods where small +clearings appear; then a settlement where the forest and clearings are +about equal and the Deer gone; last, an agricultural district, with +mere shreds of forest remaining. + +Thirty years before, Sanger had been "taken up" by a population +chiefly from Ireland, sturdy peasantry for the most part, who brought +with them the ancient feud that has so long divided Ireland--the +bitter quarrel between the Catholics or "Dogans" (why so called none +knew) and Protestants, more usually styled "Prattisons." The colours +of the Catholics were green and white; of the Protestants orange +and blue; and hence another distinctive name of the latter was +"Orangemen." + +These two factions split the social structure in two vertically. There +were, in addition, several horizontal lines of cleavage which, like +geological seams, ran across both segments. + +In those days, the early part of the nineteenth century, the British +Government used to assist desirable persons who wished to emigrate to +Canada from Ireland. This aid consisted of a free ocean passage. Many +who could not convince the Government of their desirability and yet +could raise the money, came with them, paying their regular steerage +rate of $15. These were alike to the outside world, but not to +themselves. Those who paid their way were "passengers," and were, in +their own opinion, many social worlds above the assisted ones, who +were called "Emmy Grants." This distinction was never forgotten among +the residents of Sanger. + +Yet two other social grades existed. Every man and boy in Sanger was +an expert with the axe; was wonderfully adroit. The familiar phrase, +"He's a good man," had two accepted meanings: If obviously applied to +a settler during the regular Saturday night Irish row in the little +town of Downey's Dump, it meant he was an able man with his fists; +but if to his home life on the farm, it implied that he was unusually +dexterous with the axe. A man who fell below standard was despised. +Since the houses of hewn logs were made by their owners, they +reflected the axemen's skill. There were two styles of log +architecture; the shanty with corners criss-cross, called hog-pen +finish, and the other, the house with the corners neatly finished, +called dovetail finish. In Sanger it was a social black eye to live in +a house of the first kind. The residents were considered "scrubs" or +"riff-raff" by those whose superior axemanship had provided the +more neatly finished dwelling. A later division crept in among the +"dovetailers" themselves when a brickyard was opened. The more +prosperous settlers put up neat little brick houses. To the surprise +of all, one Phil O'Leary, a poor but prolific Dogan, leaped at once +from a hog-pen log to a fine brick, and caused no end of perplexity +to the ruling society queens, simply paralyzing the social register, +since his nine fat daughters now had claims with the best. Many, +however, whose brick houses were but five years old, denounced the +O'Learys as upstarts and for long witheld all social recognition. +William Raften, as the most prosperous man in the community, was +first to appear in red bricks. His implacable enemy, Char-less (two +syllables) Boyle, egged on by his wife, now also took the red brick +plunge, though he dispensed with masons and laid the bricks himself, +with the help of his seventeen sons. These two men, though Orangemen +both, were deadly enemies, as the wives were social rivals. Raften was +the stronger and richer man, but Boyle, whose father had paid his own +steerage rate, knew all about Raften's father, and always wound up +any discussion by hurling in Raften's teeth: "Don't talk to me, ye +upstart. Everybody knows ye are nothing but a Emmy Grant." This was +the one fly in the Raften ointment. No use denying it. His father +had accepted a free passage, true, and Boyle had received a free +homestead, but what of that--that counted for nothing. Old Boyle had +been a "PASSENGER," old Raften an "EMMY GRANT." + +This was the new community that Yan had entered, and the words Dogan +and Prattison, "green" and "orange and blue," began to loom large, +along with the ideas and animosities they stood for. + +The accent of the Sangerite was mixed. First, there was a rich Irish +brogue with many Irish words; this belonged chiefly to the old folks. +The Irish of such men as Raften was quite evident in their speech, but +not strong enough to warrant the accepted Irish spelling of books, +except when the speaker was greatly excited. The young generation +had almost no Irish accent, but all had sifted down to the peculiar +burring nasal whine of the backwoods Canadian. + +Mr. and Mrs. Raften met Yan at the station. They had supper together +at the tavern and drove him to their home, where they showed him into +the big dining-room--living-room--kitchen. Over behind the stove was +a tall, awkward boy with carroty hair and small, dark eyes set much +aslant in the saddest of faces. Mrs. Raften said, "Come, Sam, and +shake hands with Yan." Sam came sheepishly forward, shook hands in a +flabby way, and said, in drawling tones, "How-do," then retired behind +the stove to gaze with melancholy soberness at Yan, whenever he could +do so without being caught at it. Mr. and Mrs. Raften were attending +to various matters elsewhere, and Yan was left alone and miserable. +The idea of giving up college to go on a farm had been a hard one for +him to accept, but he had sullenly bowed to his father's command and +then at length learned to like the prospect of getting away from +Bonnerton into the country. After all, it was but for a year, and it +promised so much of joy. Sunday-school left behind. Church reduced to +a minimum. All his life outdoors, among fields and woods--surely this +spelled happiness; but now that he was really there, the abomination +of desolation seemed sitting on all things and the evening was one +of unalloyed misery. He had nothing to tell of, but a cloud of black +despair seemed to have settled for good on the world. His mouth was +pinching very hard and his eyes blinking to keep back the tears when +Mrs. Raften came into the room. She saw at a glance what was wrong. +"He's homesick," she said to her husband. "He'll be all right +to-morrow," and she took Yan by the hand and led him upstairs to bed. + +Twenty minutes later she came to see if he was comfortable. She tucked +the clothes in around him, then, stooping down for a good-night kiss, +she found his face wet with tears. She put her arms about him for a +moment, kissed him several times, and said, "Never mind, you will feel +all right to-morrow," then wisely left him alone. + +Whence came that load of misery and horror, or whither it went, Yan +never knew. He saw it no more, and the next morning he began to +interest himself in his new world. + +William Raften had a number of farms all in fine order and clear +of mortgages; and each year he added to his estates. He was sober, +shrewd, even cunning, hated by most of his neighbours because he was +too clever for them and kept on getting richer. His hard side was for +the world and his soft side for his family. Not that he was really +soft in any respect. He had had to fight his life-battle alone, +beginning with nothing, and the many hard knocks had hardened him, but +the few who knew him best could testify to the warm Irish heart that +continued unchanged within him, albeit it was each year farther +from the surface. His manners, even in the house, were abrupt and +masterful. There was no mistaking his orders, and no excuse for not +complying with them. To his children when infants, and to his wife +only, he was always tender, and those who saw him cold and grasping, +overreaching the sharpers of the grain market, would scarcely have +recognized the big, warm-hearted happy-looking father at home an hour +later when he was playing horse with his baby daughter or awkwardly +paying post-graduate court to his smiling wife. + +He had little "eddication," could hardly read, and was therefore +greatly impressed with the value of "book larnin'," and determined +that his own children should have the "best that money could git in +that line," which probably meant that they should read fluently. His +own reading was done on Sunday mornings, when he painfully spelled out +the important items in a weekly paper; "important" meant referring +to the produce market or the prize ring, for he had been known and +respected as a boxer, and dearly loved the exquisite details of the +latest bouts. He used to go to church with his wife once a month to +please her, and thought it very unfair therefore that she should take +no interest in his favourite hobby--the manly art. + +Although hard and even brutal in his dealings with men, he could not +bear to see an animal ill used. "The men can holler when they're hurt, +but the poor dumb baste has no protection." He was the only farmer in +the country that would not sell or shoot a worn-out horse. "The poor +brute has wurruked hard an' hez airned his kape for the rest av his +days." So Duncan, Jerry and several others were "retired" and lived +their latter days in idleness, in one case for more than ten years. + +Raften had thrashed more than one neighbour for beating a horse, and +once, on interfering, was himself thrashed, for he had the ill-luck to +happen on a prizefighter. But that had no lasting effect on him. He +continued to champion the dumb brute in his own brutal way. + +Among the neighbours the perquisites of the boys were the calfskins. +The cows' milk was needed and the calves of little value, so usually +they were killed when too young for food. The boys did the killing, +making more or less sport of it, and the skins, worth fifty cents +apiece green and twenty-five cents dry, at the tannery, were their +proper pay. Raften never allowed his son to kill the calves. "Oi can't +kill a poor innocent calf mesilf an' I won't hev me boy doin' it," he +said. Thus Sam was done out of a perquisite, and did not forget the +grievance. + +Mrs. Raften was a fine woman, a splendid manager, loving her home and +her family, her husband's loyal and ablest supporter, although she +thought that William was sometimes a "leetle hard" on the boys. They +had had a large family, but most of the children had died. Those +remaining were Sam, aged fifteen, and Minnie, aged three. + +Yan's duties were fixed at once. The poultry and half the pigs and +cows were to be his charge. He must also help Sam with various other +chores. + +There was plenty to do and clear rules about doing it. But there was +also time nearly every day for other things more in the line of his +tastes; for even if he were hard on the boys in work hours, Raften +saw to it that when they did play they should have a good time. His +roughness and force made Yan afraid of him, and as it was Raften's +way to say nothing until his mind was fully made up, and then say it +"strong," Yan was left in doubt as to whether or not he was giving +satisfaction. + + + + +II + +Sam + + +Sam Raften turned out to be more congenial than he looked. His slow, +drawling speech had given a wrong impression of stupidity, and, after +a formal showing of the house under Mr. Raften, a real investigation +was headed by Sam. "This yer's the paaar-le-r," said he, unlocking a +sort of dark cellar aboveground and groping to open what afterward +proved to be a dead, buried and almost forgotten window. In Sanger +settlement the farmhouse parlour is not a room; it is an institution. +It is kept closed all the week except when the minister calls, and +the one at Raften's was the pure type. Its furniture consisted of six +painted chairs (fifty cents each), two rockers ($1.49), one melodeon +(thirty-two bushels of wheat--the agent asked forty), a sideboard made +at home of the case the melodeon came in, one rag carpet woofed at +home and warped and woven in exchange for wool, one center-table +varnished (!) ($9.00 cash, $11.00 catalogue). On the center-table was +one tintype album, a Bible, and some large books for company use. +Though dusted once a week, they were never moved, and it was years +later before they were found to have settled permanently into the +varnish of the table. In extremely uncostly frames on the wall were +the coffin-plates of the departed members of the family. It was the +custom at Sanger to honour the dead by bringing back from the funeral +the name-plate and framing it on a black background with some supposed +appropriate scripture text. + +The general atmosphere of the room was dusty and religious as it +was never opened except on Sundays or when the parson called, which +instituted a sort of temporary Sunday, and the two small windows were +kept shut and plugged as well as muffled always, with green paper +blinds and cotton hangings. It was a thing apart from the rest of the +house--a sort of family ghost-room: a chamber of horrors, seen but +once a week. + +But it contained one thing at least of interest--something that at +once brought Sam and Yan together. This was a collection of a score +of birds' eggs. They were all mixed together in an old glass-topped +cravat box, half full of bran. None of them were labelled or properly +blown. A collector would not have given it a second glance, but it +proved an important matter. It was as though two New Yorkers, one +disguised as a Chinaman and the other as a Negro, had accidently +met in Greenland and by chance one had made the sign of the secret +brotherhood to which they both belonged. + +"Do you like these things?" said Yan, with sudden interest and warmth, +in spite of the depressing surroundings. + +"You bet," said Sam. "And I'd a-had twice as many only Da said it was +doing no good and birds was good for the farm." + +"Well, do you know their names?" + +"Wall, I should say so. I know every Bird that flies and all about it, +or putty near it," drawled Sam, with an unusual stretch for him, as he +was not given to bragging. + +"I wish I did. Can't I get some eggs to take home?" + +"No; Da said if I wouldn't take any more he'd lend me his Injun Chief +gun to shoot Rabbits with." + +"What? Are there Rabbits here?" + +"Wall, I should say so. I got three last winter." + +"But I mean _now_," said Yan, with evident disappointment. + +"They ain't so easy to get at _now_, but we can try. Some day +when all the work's done I'll ask Da for his gun." + +"When all the work's done," was a favourite expression of the Raftens +for indefinitely shelving a project, it sounded so reasonable and was +really so final. + +Sam opened up the lower door of the sideboard and got out some flint +arrow-heads picked up in the ploughing, the teeth of a Beaver dating +from the early days of the settlement, and an Owl very badly stuffed. +The sight of these precious things set Yan all ablaze. "Oh!" was all +he could say. Sam was gratified to see such effect produced by the +family possessions and explained, "Da shot that off'n the barn an' the +hired man stuffed it." + +The boys were getting on well together now. They exchanged +confidences all day as they met in doing chores. In spite of the long +interruptions, they got on so well that Sam said after supper, "Say, +Yan, I'm going to show you something, but you must promise never +to tell--Swelpye!" Of course Yan promised and added the absolutely +binding and ununderstandable word--"Swelpme." + +"Le's both go to the barn," said Sam. + +When they were half way he said: "Now I'll let on I went back +for something. You go on an' round an' I'll meet you under the +'rusty-coat' in the orchard." When they met under the big russet apple +tree, Sam closed one of his melancholy eyes and said in a voice of +unnecessary hush, "Follow me." He led to the other end of the orchard +where stood the old log house that had been the home before the +building of the brick one. It was now used as a tool house. Sam led up +a ladder to the loft (this was all wholly delightful). There at the +far end, and next the little gable pane, he again cautioned secrecy, +then when on invitation Yan had once more "swelped" himself, he +rummaged in a dirty old box and drew out a bow, some arrows, a rusty +steel trap, an old butcher knife, some fish-hooks, a flint and steel, +a box full of matches, and some dirty, greasy-looking stuff that he +said was dried meat. "You see," he explained, "I always wanted to be a +hunter, and Da was bound I'd be a dentist. Da said there was no money +in hunting, but one day he had to go to the dentist an' it cost four +dollars, an' the man wasn't half a day at the job, so he wanted me to +be a dentist, but I wanted to be a hunter, an' one day he licked me +and Bud (Bud, that's my brother that died a year ago. If you hear Ma +talk you'll think he was an angel, but I always reckoned he was a +crazy galoot, an' he was the worst boy in school by odds). Wall, Da +licked us awful for not feeding the hogs, so Bud got ready to clear +out, an' at first I felt just like he did an' said I'd go too, an' +we'd j'ine the Injuns. Anyhow, I'd sure go if ever I was licked again, +an' this was the outfit we got together. Bud wanted to steal Da's gun +an' I wouldn't. I tell you I was hoppin' mad that time, an' Bud was +wuss--but I cooled off an' talked to Bud. I says, 'Say now, Bud, it +would take about a month of travel to get out West, an' if the Injuns +didn't want nothin' but our scalps that wouldn't be no fun, an' Da +ain't really so bad, coz we sho'ly did starve them pigs so one of +'em died.' I reckon we deserved all we got--anyhow, it was all dumb +foolishness about skinnin' out, though I'd like mighty well to be a +hunter. Well, Bud died that winter. You seen the biggest coffin plate +on the wall? Well, that's him. I see Ma lookin' at it an' cryin' the +other day. Da says he'll send me to college if I'll be a dentist or a +lawyer--lawyers make lots of money: Da had a lawsuit once--an' if I +don't, he says I kin go to--you know." + +Here was Yan's own kind of mind, and he opened his heart. He told all +about his shanty in the woods and how he had laboured at and loved it. +He was full of enthusiasm as of old, boiling over with purpose and +energy, and Sam, he realized, had at least two things that he had +not--ability with tools and cool judgment. It was like having the best +parts of his brother Rad put into a real human being. And remembering +the joy of his Glen, Yan said: + +"Let's build a shanty in the woods by the creek; your father won't +care, will he?" + +"Not he, so long as the work's done." + + + + +III + +The Wigwam + + +The very next day they must begin. As soon as every chore was done +they went to the woods to select a spot. + +The brook, or "creek," as they called it, ran through a meadow, then +through a fence into the woods. This was at first open and grassy, but +farther down the creek it was joined by a dense cedar swamp. Through +this there was no path, but Sam said that there was a nice high place +beyond. The high ground seemed a long way off in the woods, though +only a hundred yards through the swamp, but it was the very place for +a camp--high, dry and open hard woods, with the creek in front and the +cedar swamp all around. Yan was delighted. Sam caught no little of the +enthusiasm, and having brought an axe, was ready to begin the shanty. +But Yan had been thinking hard all morning, and now he said: "Sam, we +don't want to be _White_ hunters. They're no good; we want to be +Indians." + +"Now, that's just where you fool yourself," said Sam. "Da says there +ain't nothin' an Injun can do that a White-man can't do better." + +"Oh, what are you talking about?" said Yan warmly. "A White hunter +can't trail a moccasined foot across a hard granite rock. A White +hunter can't go into the woods with nothing but a knife and make +everything he needs. A White hunter can't hunt with bows and arrows, +and catch game with snares, can he? And there never yet was a White +man could make a Birch canoe." Then, changing his tone, Yan went on: +"Say, now, Sam, we want to be the best kind of hunters, don't we, so +as to be ready for going out West. Let's be Injuns and do everything +like Injuns." + +After all, this had the advantage of romance and picturesqueness, and +Sam consented to "try it for awhile, anyhow." And now came the point +of Yan's argument. "Injuns don't live in shanties; they live in +teepees. Why not make a teepee instead?" + +"That would be just bully," said Sam, who had seen pictures enough to +need no description, "but what are we to make it of?" + +"Well," answered Yan, promptly assuming the leadership and rejoicing +in his ability to speak as an authority, "the Plains Injuns make their +teepees of skins, but the wood Injuns generally use Birch bark." + +"Well, I bet you can't find skins or Birch bark enough in this woods +to make a teepee big enough for a Chipmunk to chaw nuts in." + +"We can use Elm bark." + +"That's a heap easier," replied Sam, "if it'll answer, coz we cut a +lot o' Elm logs last winter and the bark'll be about willin' to peel +now. But first let's plan it out." + +This was a good move, one Yan would have overlooked. He would probably +have got a lot of material together and made the plan afterward, but +Sam had been taught to go about his work with method. + +So Yan sketched on a smooth log his remembrance of an Indian teepee. +"It seems to me it was about this shape, with the poles sticking up +like that, a hole for the smoke here and another for the door there." + +"Sounds like you hain't never seen one," remarked Sam, with more point +than politeness, "but we kin try it. Now 'bout how big?" + +Eight feet high and eight feet across was decided to be about right. +Four poles, each ten feet long, were cut in a few minutes, Yan +carrying them to a smooth place above the creek as fast as Sam cut +them. + +"Now, what shall we tie them with?" said Yan. + +"You mean for rope?" + +"Yes, only we must get everything in the woods; real rope ain't +allowed." + +"I kin fix that," said Sam; "when Da double-staked the orchard fence, +he lashed every pair of stakes at the top with Willow withes." + +"That's so--I quite forgot," said Yan. In a few minutes they were +at work trying to tie the four poles together with slippery stiff +Willows, but it was no easy matter. They had to be perfectly tight or +they would slip and fall in a heap each time they were raised, and it +seemed at length that the boys would be forced to the impropriety of +using hay wire, when they heard a low grunt, and turning, saw William +Raften standing with his hands behind him as though he had watched +them for hours. + +The boys were no little startled. Raften had a knack of turning up at +any point when something was going on, taking in the situation fully, +and then, if he disapproved, of expressing himself in a few words of +blistering mockery delivered in a rich Irish brogue. Just what view +he would take of their pastime the boys had no idea, but awaited with +uneasiness. If they had been wasting time when they should have been +working there is no question but that they would have been sent with +contumely to more profitable pursuits, but this was within their +rightful play hours, and Raften, after regarding them with a searching +look, said slowly: "Bhoys!" (Sam felt easier; his father would have +said "_Bhise_" if really angry.) "Fhat's the good o' wastin' yer +time" (Yan's heart sank) "wid Willow withes fur a job like that? They +can't be made to howld. Whoi don't ye git some hay woire or coord at +the barrun?" + +The boys were greatly relieved, but still this friendly overture might +be merely a feint to open the way for a home thrust. Sam was silent. +So Yan said, presently, "We ain't allowed to use anything but what the +Indians had or could get in the woods." + +"An' who don't allow yez?" + +"The rules." + +"Oh," said William, with some amusement. "Oi see! Hyar." + +He went into the woods looking this way and that, and presently +stopped at a lot of low shrubs. + +"Do ye know what this is, Yan?" + +"No, sir." + +"Le's see if yer man enough to break it aff." + +Yan tried. The wood was brittle enough, but the bark, thin, smooth and +pliant, was as tough as leather, and even a narrow strip defied his +strength. + +"That's Litherwood," said Raften. "That's what the Injuns used; that's +what we used ourselves in the airly days of this yer settlement." + +The boys had looked for a rebuke, and here was a helping hand. It all +turned on the fact that this was "play hours," Raften left with a +parting word: "In wan hour an' a half the pigs is fed." + +"You see Da's all right when the work ain't forgot," said Sam, with +a patronizing air. "I wonder why I didn't think o' that there +Leatherwood meself. I've often heard that that's what was used fur +tying bags in the old days when cord was scarce, an' the Injuns used +it for tying their prisoners, too. Ain't it the real stuff?" + +Several strips were now used for tying four poles together at the top, +then these four were raised on end and spread out at the bottom to +serve as the frame of the teepee, or more properly wigwam, since it +was to be made of bark. + +After consulting, they now got a long, limber Willow rod an inch +thick, and bending it around like a hoop, they tied it with +Leatherwood to each pole at a point four feet from the ground. Next +they cut four short poles to reach from the ground to this. These were +lashed at their upper ends to the Willow rod, and now they were ready +for the bark slabs. The boys went to the Elm logs and again Sam's able +use of the axe came in. He cut the bark open along the top of one log, +and by using the edge of the axe and some wooden wedges they pried off +a great roll eight feet long and four feet across. It was a pleasant +surprise to see what a wide piece of bark the small log gave them. + +Three logs yielded three fine large slabs and others yielded pieces of +various sizes. The large ones were set up against the frame so as to +make the most of them. Of course they were much too big for the top, +and much too narrow for the bottom; but the little pieces would do to +patch if some way could be found to make them stick. + +Sam suggested nailing them to the posts, and Yan was horrified at the +idea of using nails. "No Indian has any nails." + +"Well, what _would_ they use?" said Sam. + +"They used thongs, an'--an'--maybe wooden pegs. I don't know, but +seems to me that would be all right." + +"But them poles is hard wood," objected the practical Sam. "You can +drive Oak pegs into Pine, but you can't drive wooden pegs into hard +wood without you make some sort of a hole first. Maybe I'd better +bring a gimlet." + +"Now, Sam, you might just as well hire a carpenter--_that_ +wouldn't be Indian at all. Let's play it right. We'll find some way. I +believe we can tie them up with Leatherwood." + +So Sam made a sharp Oak pick with his axe, and Yan used it to pick +holes in each piece of bark and then did a sort of rude sewing till +the wigwam seemed beautifully covered in. But when they went inside +to look they were unpleasantly surprised to find how many holes +there were. It was impossible to close them all because the bark was +cracking in so many places, but the boys plugged the worst of them and +then prepared for the great sacred ceremony--the lighting of the fire +in the middle. + +They gathered a lot of dry fuel, then Yan produced a match. + +"That don't look to me very Injun," drawled Sam critically. "I don't +think Injuns has matches." + +"Well, they don't," admitted Yan, humbly. "But I haven't a flint and +steel, and don't know how to work rubbing-sticks, so we just got to +use matches, _if_ we _want_ a fire." + +"Why, of course we want a fire. I ain't kicking," said Sam. "Go ahead +with your old leg-fire sulphur stick. A camp without a fire would be +'bout like last year's bird's nest or a house with the roof off." + +Yan struck a match and put it to the wood. It went out. He struck +another--same result. Yet another went out. + +Sam remarked: + +"Pears to me you don't know much about lightin' a fire. Lemme show +you. Let the White hunter learn the Injun somethin' about the woods," +said he with a leer. + +Sam took the axe and cut some sticks of a dry Pine root. Then with his +knife he cut long curling shavings, which he left sticking in a fuzz +at the end of each stick. + +"Oh, I've seen a picture of an Indian making them. They call them +'prayer-sticks,'" said Yan. + +"Well, prayer-sticks is mighty good kindlin'" replied the other. He +struck a match, and in a minute he had a blazing fire in the middle of +the wigwam. + +"Old Granny de Neuville, she's a witch--she knows all about the woods, +and cracked Jimmy turns everything into poetry what she says. He says +she says when you want to make a fire in the woods you take-- + + "First a curl of Birch bark as dry as it kin be, + Then some twigs of soft-wood, dead, but on the tree, + Last o' all some Pine knots to make the kittle foam, + An' thar's a fire to make you think you're settin' right at home." + +"Who's Granny de Neuville?" + +"Oh, she's the old witch that lives down at the bend o' the creek." + +"What? Has she got a granddaughter named Biddy?" said Yan, suddenly +remembering that his ancient ally came from this part of Sanger. + +"Oh, my! Hain't she? Ain't Biddy a peach--drinks like a fish, talks +everybody to death about the time she resided in Bonnerton. Gits a +letter every mail begging her to come back and 'reside' with them some +more." + +"Ain't this fine," said Yan, as he sat on a pile of Fir boughs in the +wigwam. + +"Looks like the real thing," replied Sam from his seat on the other +side. "But say, Yan, don't make any more fire; it's kind o' warm here, +an' there seems to be something wrong with that flue--wants sweepin', +prob'ly--hain't been swep' since I kin remember." + +The fire blazed up and the smoke increased. Just a little of it +wandered out of the smoke-hole at the top, then it decided that this +was a mistake and thereafter positively declined to use the vent. Some +of it went out by chinks, and a large stream issued from the door, but +by far the best part of it seemed satisfied with the interior of the +wigwam, so that in a minute or less both boys scrambled out. Their +eyes were streaming with smoke-tears and their discomfiture was +complete. + +"'Pears to me," observed Sam, "like we got them holes mixed. The dooer +should 'a 'been at the top, sence the smoke has a fancy for usin' it, +an' then _we'd_ had a chance." + +"The Indians make it work," said Yan; "a White hunter ought to know +how." + +"Now's the Injun's chance," said Sam. "Maybe it wants a dooer to +close, then the smoke would have to go out." + +They tried this, and of course some of the smoke was crowded out, but +not till long after the boys were. + +"Seems like what does get out by the chinks is sucked back agin by +that there double-action flue," said Sam. + +It was very disappointing. The romance of sitting by the fire in one's +teepee appealed to both of the boys, but the physical torture of +the smoke made it unbearable. Their dream was dispelled, and Sam +suggested, "Maybe we'd better try a shanty." + +"No," said Yan, with his usual doggedness. "I know it can be done, +because the Indians do it. We'll find out in time." + +But all their efforts were in vain. The wigwam was a failure, as far +as fire was concerned. It was very small and uncomfortable, too; the +wind blew through a hundred crevices, which grew larger as the Elm +bark dried and cracked. A heavy shower caught them once, and they were +rather glad to be driven into their cheerless lodge, but the rain came +abundantly into the smoke-hole as well as through the walls, and they +found it but little protection. + +[Illustration: "The wigwam was a failure."] + +"Seems to me, if anything, a _leetle_ wetter in here than +outside," said Sam, as he led in a dash for home. + +That night a heavy storm set in, and next day the boys found their +flimsy wigwam blown down--nothing but a heap of ruins. + +Some time after, Raften asked at the table in characteristic stern +style, "Bhoys, what's doin' down to yer camp? Is yer wigwam finished?" + +"No good," said Sam. "All blowed down." + +"How's that?" + +"I dunno'. It smoked like everything. We couldn't stay in it." + +"Couldn't a-been right made," said Raften; then with a sudden +interest, which showed how eagerly he would have joined in this forty +years ago, he said, "Why don't ye make a rale taypay?" + +"Dunno' how, an' ain't got no stuff." + +"Wall, now, yez have been pretty good an' ain't slacked on the wurruk, +yez kin have the ould wagon kiver. Cousin Bert could tache ye how to +make it, if he wuz here. Maybe Caleb Clark knows," he added, with a +significant twinkle of his eye. "Better ask him." Then he turned to +give orders to the hired men, who, of course, ate at the family table. + +"Da, do you care if we go to Caleb?" + +"I don't care fwhat ye do wid him," was the reply. + +Raften was no idle talker and Sam knew that, so as soon as "the law +was off" he and Yan got out the old wagon cover. It seemed like an +acre of canvas when they spread it out. Having thus taken possession, +they put it away again in the cow-house, their own domain, and Sam +said: "I've a great notion to go right to Caleb; he sho'ly knows more +about a teepee than any one else here, which ain't sayin' much." + +"Who's Caleb?" + +"Oh, he's the old Billy Goat that shot at Da oncet, just after Da beat +him at a horse trade. Let on it was a mistake: 'twas, too, as he +found out, coz Da bought up some old notes of his, got 'em cheap, and +squeezed him hard to meet them. He's had hard luck ever since. + +"He's a mortal queer old duck, that Caleb. He knows heaps about the +woods, coz he was a hunter an' trapper oncet. My! wouldn't he be down +on me if he knowed who was my Da, but he don't have to know." + + + + +IV + +The Sanger Witch + + The Sanger Witch dwelt in the bend of the creek, + And neither could read nor write; + But she knew in a day what few knew in a week, + For hers was the second sight. + "Read?" said she, "I am double read; + You fools of the ink and pen + Count never the eggs, but the sticks of the nest, + See the clothes, not the souls of men." + + --Cracked Jimmy's Ballad of Sanger. + + +The boys set out for Caleb's. It was up the creek away from the camp +ground. As they neared the bend they saw a small log shanty, with some +poultry and a pig at the door. + +"That's where the witch lives," said Sam. + +"Who--old Granny de Neuville?" + +"Yep, and she just loves me. Oh, yes; about the same way an old hen +loves a Chicken-hawk. 'Pears to me she sets up nights to love me." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, I guess it started with the pigs. No, let's see: first about the +trees. Da chopped off a lot of Elm trees that looked terrible nice +from her windy. She's awful queer about a tree. She hates to see 'em +cut down, an' that soured her same as if she owned 'em. Then there +wuz the pigs. You see, one winter she was awful hard up, an' she had +two pigs worth, maybe, $5.00 each--anyway, she said they was, an' she +ought to know, for they lived right in the shanty with her--an' she +come to Da (I guess she had tried every one else first) an' Da he +squeezed her down an' got the two pigs for $7.00. He al'ays does that. +Then he comes home an' says to Ma, 'Seems to me the old lady is +pretty hard put. 'Bout next Saturday you take two sacks of flour and +some pork an' potatoes around an' see that she is fixed up right.' +Da's al'ays doin' them things, too, on the quiet. So Ma goes with +about $15.00 worth o' truck. The old witch was kinder 'stand off.' +She didn't say much. Ma was goin' slow, not knowin' just whether to +give the stuff out an' out, or say it could be worked for next year, +or some other year, when there was two moons, or some time when the +work was all done. Well, the old witch said mighty little until the +stuff was all put in the cellar, then she grabs up a big stick an' +breaks out at Ma: + +"'Now you git out o' my house, you dhirty, sthuck-up thing. I ain't +takin' no charity from the likes o' you. That thing you call your +husband robbed me o' my pigs, an' we ain't any more'n square now, so +git out an' don't you dar set fut in my house agin'. + +"Well, she was sore on us when Da bought her pigs, but she was five +times wuss after she clinched the groceries. 'Pears like they soured +on her stummick." + +"What a shame, the old wretch," said Yan, with ready sympathy for the +Raftens. + +"No," replied Sam; "she's only queer. There's lots o' folk takes her +side. But she's awful queer. She won't have a tree cut if she can help +it, an' when the flowers come in the spring she goes out in the woods +and sets down beside 'em for hours an' calls 'em 'Me beauty--me little +beauty,' an' she just loves the birds. When the boys want to rile her +they get a sling-shot an' shoot the birds in her garden an' she just +goes crazy. She pretty near starves herself every winter trying to +feed all the birds that come around. She has lots of 'em to feed right +out o' her hand. Da says they think its an old pine root, but she has +a way o' coaxin' 'em that's awful nice. There she'll stand in freezin' +weather calling them 'Me beauties'. + +"You see that little windy in the end?" he continued, as they came +close to the witch's hut. "Well, that's the loft, an' it's full o' all +sorts o' plants an' roots." + +"What for?" + +"Oh, for medicine. She's great on hairbs." + +"Oh, yes, I remember now Biddy did say that her Granny was a herb +doctor." + +"Doctor? She ain't much of a doctor, but I bet she knows every plant +that grows in the woods, an' they're sure strong after they've been up +there for a year, with the cat sleepin' on them." + +"I wish I could go and see her." + +"Guess we can," was the reply. + +"Doesn't she know you?" + +"Yes, but watch me fix her," drawled Sam. "There ain't nothin' she +likes better'n a sick pusson." + +Sam stopped now, rolled up his sleeves and examined both arms, +apparently without success, for he then loosed his suspenders, dropped +his pants, and proceeded to examine his legs. Of course, all boys +have more or less cuts and bruises in various stages of healing. Sam +selected his best, just below the knee, a scratch from a nail in the +fence. He had never given it a thought before, but now he "reckoned +it would do." With a lead pencil borrowed from Yan he spread a hue +of mortification all around it, a green butternut rind added the +unpleasant yellowish-brown of human decomposition, and the result +was a frightful looking plague spot. By chewing some grass he made a +yellowish-green dye and expectorated this on the handkerchief which he +bound on the sore. He then got a stick and proceeded to limp painfully +toward the witch's abode. As they drew near, the partly open door was +slammed with ominous force. Sam, quite unabashed, looked at Yan and +winked, then knocked. The bark of a small dog answered. He knocked +again. A sound now of some one moving within, but no answer. A third +time he knocked, then a shrill voice: "Get out o' that. Get aff my +place, you dirthy young riff-raff." + +Sam grinned at Yan. Then drawling a little more than usual, he said: + +"It's a poor boy, Granny. The doctors can't do nothin' for him," which +last, at least, was quite true. + +There was no reply, so Sam made bold to open the door. There sat the +old woman glowering with angry red eyes across the stove, a cat in her +lap, a pipe in her mouth, and a dog growling toward the strangers. + +"Ain't you Sam Raften?" she asked fiercely. + +"Yes, marm. I get hurt on a nail in the fence. They say you kin git +blood-p'isinin' that way," said Sam, groaning a little and trying to +look interesting. The order to "get out" died on the witch's lips. Her +good old Irish heart warmed to the sufferer. After all, it was rather +pleasant to have the enemy thus humbly seek her aid, so she muttered: + +"Le's see it." + +Sam was trying amid many groans to expose the disgusting mess he had +made around his knee, when a step was heard outside. The door opened +and in walked Biddy. + +She and Yan recognized each other at once. The one had grown much +longer, the other much broader since the last meeting, but the +greeting was that of two warm-hearted people glad to see each other +once more. + +"An' how's yer father an' yer mother an' how is all the fambily? Law, +do ye mind the Cherry Lung-balm we uster make? My, but we wuz greenies +then! Ye mind, I uster tell ye about Granny? Well, here she is. +Granny, this is Yan. Me an' him hed lots o' fun together when I +'resided' with his mamma, didn't we, Yan? Now, Granny's the one to +tell ye all about the plants." + +A long groan from Sam now called all attention his way. + +"Well, if it ain't Sam Raften," said Biddy coldly. + +"Yes, an' he's deathly sick," added Granny. "Their own docther guv him +up an said mortal man couldn't save him nohow, so he jest hed to come +to me." + +Another long groan was ample indorsement. + +"Le's see. Gimme my scissors, Biddy; I'll hev to cut the pant leg +aff." + +"No, no," Sam blurted out with sudden vigour, dreading the +consequences at home. "I kin roll it up." + +"Thayer, thot'll do. Now I say," said the witch. "Yes, sure enough, +thayer _is_ proud flesh. I moight cut it out," said she, fumbling +in her pocket (Sam supposed for a knife, and made ready to dash for +the door), "but le's see, no--that would be a fool docther trick. I +kin git on without." + +"Yes, sure," said Sam, clutching at the idea, "that's just what a fool +doctor would do, but you kin give me something to take that's far +better." + +"Well, sure an' I kin," and Yan and Sam breathed more freely. +"Shwaller this, now," and she offered him a tin cup of water into +which she spilled some powder of dry leaves. Sam did so. "An' you +take this yer bundle and bile it in two gallons of wather and drink a +glassful ivery hour, an' hev a loive chicken sphlit with an axe an' +laid hot on the place twicet ivery day, till the proud flesh goes, an' +it'll be all right wid ye--a fresh chicken ivery toime, moind ye." + +"Wouldn't--turkeys--do--better?" groaned Sam, feebly. "I'm me mother's +pet, Granny, an' expense ain't any objek"--a snort that may have meant +mortal agony escaped him. + +"Niver moind, now. Sure we won't talk of yer father an' mother; +they're punished pretty bad already. Hiven forbid they don't lose +the rest o' ye fur their sins. It ain't meself that 'ud bear ony +ill-will." + +A long groan cut short what looked like a young sermon. + +"What's the plant, Granny?" asked Yan, carefully avoiding Sam's gaze. + +"Shure, an' it grows in the woods." + +"Yes, but I want to know what it's like and what it's called." + +"Shure, 'tain't like nothin' else. It's just like itself, an' it's +called Witch-hazel. + + "'Witch-hazel blossoms in the faal, + To cure the chills and Fayvers aall,' + +"as cracked Jimmy says." + +"I'll show you some av it sometime," said Biddy. + +"Can it be made into Lung-balm?" asked Yan, mischievously. + +"I guess we'll have to go now," Sam feebly put in. "I'm feeling much +better. Where's my stick? Here, Yan, you kin carry my medicine, an' +be _very_ keerful of it." + +Yan took the bundle, not daring to look Sam in the face. + +Granny bade them both come back again, and followed to the door with a +hearty farewell. At the same moment she said: + +"Howld on!" Then she went to the one bed in the room, which also was +the house, turned down the clothes, and in the middle exposed a lot of +rosy apples. She picked out two of the best and gave one to each of +the boys. + +"Shure, Oi hev to hoide them thayer fram the pig, for they're the +foinest iver grew." + +"I know they are," whispered Sam, as he limped out of hearing, "for +her son Larry stole them out of our orchard last fall. They're the +only kind that keeps over. They're the best that grow, but a trifle +too warm just now." + +"Good-by, and thank you much," said Yan. + +"I-feel-better-already," drawled Sam. "That tired feeling has left me, +an' sense tryin' your remedy I have took no other," but added aside, +"I wish I could throw up the stuff before it pisens me," and then, +with a keen eye to the picturesque effect, he wanted to fling his +stick away and bound into the woods. + +It was all Yan could do to make him observe some of the decencies +and limp a little till out of sight. As it was, the change was quite +marked and the genial old witch called loudly on Biddy to see with +her own eyes how quickly she had helped young Raften "afther all the +dochters in the country hed giv him up." + +"Now for Caleb Clark, Esq., Q.C.," said Sam. + +"Q.C.?" inquired his friend. + +"Some consider it means Queen's Counsel, an' some claims as it stands +for Queer Cuss. One or other maybe is right." + +"You're stepping wonderfully for a crippled boy the doctors have given +up," remarked Yan. + +"Yes; that's the proud flesh in me right leg that's doin' the high +steppin'. The left one is jest plain laig." + +"Let's hide this somewhere till we get back," and Yan held up the +bundle of Witch-hazel. + +"I'll hide that," said Sam, and he hurled the bundle afar into the +creek. + +"Oh, Sam, that's mean. Maybe she wants it herself." + +"Pooh, that's all the old brush is good for. I done more'n me duty +when I drank that swill. I could fairly taste the cat in it." + +"What'll you tell her next time?" + +"Well, I'll tell her I put the sticks in the right place an' where +they done the most good. I soaked 'em in water an' took as much as I +wanted of the flooid. + +"She'll see for herself I really did pull through, and will be a +blamed sight happier than if I drank her old pisen brushwood an' had +to send for a really truly doctor." + +Yan was silenced, but not satisfied. It seemed discourteous to throw +the sticks away--so soon, anyway; besides, he had curiosity to know +just what they were and how they acted. + + + + +V + +Caleb + + +A mile farther was the shanty of Caleb Clark, a mere squatter now on a +farm once his own. As the boys drew near, a tall, round-shouldered man +with a long white beard was seen carrying in an armful of wood. + +"Ye see the Billy Goat?" said Sam. + +Yan sniffed as he gasped the "why" of the nickname. + +"I guess you better do the talking; Caleb ain't so easy handled as the +witch, and he's just as sour on Da." + +So Yan went forward rather cautiously and knocked at the open door of +the shanty. A deep-voiced Dog broke into a loud bay, the long beard +appeared, and its owner said, "Wall?" + +"Are you Mr. Clark?" + +"Yep." Then, "Lie down, Turk," to a black-and-tan Hound that came +growling out. + +"I came--I--we wanted to ask some questions--if you don't mind." + +"What might yer name be?" + +"Yan." + +"An' who is this?" + +"He's my chum, Sam." + +"I'm Sam Horn," said Sam, with some truth, for he was Samuel +Horn Raften, but with sufficient deception to make Yan feel very +uncomfortable. + +"And where are ye from?" + +"Bonnerton," said Yan. + +"To-day?" was the rejoinder, with a tone of doubt. + +"Well, no," Yan began; but Sam, who had tried to keep out of notice +for fear of recognition, saw that his ingenuous companion was being +quickly pumped and placed, and now interposed: "You see, Mr. Clark, we +are camped in the woods and we want to make a teepee to live in. We +have the stuff an' was told that you knew all about the making." + +"Who told ye?" + +"The old witch at the bend of the creek." + +"Where are ye livin' now?" + +"Well," said Sam, hastening again to forestall Yan, whose simple +directness he feared, "to tell the truth, we made a wigwam of bark in +the woods below here, but it wasn't a success." + +"Whose woods?" + +"Oh, about a mile below on the creek." + +"Hm! That must be Raften's or Burns's woods." + +"I guess it is," said Sam. + +"_An' you look uncommon like Sam Raften_. You consarned young +whelp, to come here lyin' an' tryin' to pull the wool over my eyes. +Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye." + +[Illustration: "Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye."] + +Yan turned very red. He thought of the scripture text, "Be sure your +sin will find you out," and he stepped back. Sam stuck his tongue in +his cheek and followed. But he was his father's son. He turned and +said: + +"Now see here, Mr. Clark, fair and square; we come here to ask a +simple question about the woods. You are the only man that knows or we +wouldn't 'a' bothered you. I knowed you had it in for Da, so I tried +to fool you, and it didn't go. I wish now I had just come out square +and said, 'I'm Sam Raften; will you tell me somethin' I want to know, +or won't you?' I didn't know you hed anything agin me or me friend +that's camping with me." + +There is a strong bond of sympathy between all Woodcrafters. The mere +fact that a man wants to go his way is a claim on a Woodcrafter's +notice. Old Caleb, though soured by trouble and hot-tempered, had a +kind heart; he resisted for a moment the first impulse to slam the +door in their faces; then as he listened he fell into the tempter's +snare, for it was baited with the subtlest of flatteries. He said to +Yan: + +"Is your name Raften?" + +"No, sir." + +"Air ye owt o' kin?" + +"No, sir." + +"I don't want no truck with a Raften, but what do ye want to know?" + +"We built a wigwam of bark, but it's no good, but now we have a big +canvas cover an' want to know how to make a teepee." + +"A teepee. H-m--" said the old man reflectively. + +"They say you've lived in them," ventured Yan. + +"Hm--'bout forty year; but it's one thing to wear a suit of clothes +and another thing to make one. Seems to me it was about like this," +and he took up a burnt stick and a piece of grocer's paper. "No--now +hold on. Yes, I remember now; I seen a bunch of squaws make one oncet. + +"First they sewed the skins together. No, first thar was a lot o' +prayin'; ye kin suit yerselves 'bout that--then they sewed the skins +together an" pegged it down flat on the prairie (B D H I, Cut No. 1). +Then put in a peg at the middle of one side (A). Then with a burnt +stick an' a coord--yes, there must 'a' been a coord--they drawed a +half circle--so (B C D). Then they cut that off, an' out o' the pieces +they make two flaps like that (H L M J and K N O I), an' sews 'em on +to P E and G Q. Them's smoke-flaps to make the smoke draw. Thar's a +upside down pocket in the top side corner o' each smoke-flap--so--for +the top of each pole, and there is rows o' holes down--so (M B and N +D, Cut No. 2)--on each side fur the lacin' pins. Then at the top of +that pint (A, Cut 1) ye fasten a short lash-rope. + +[Illustration: CUT I.--PATTERN FOR A SIMPLE 10-FOOT TEEPEE] + +[Illustration: CUT II.--THE COMPLETE TEEPEE COVER--UNORNAMENTED] + +"Le's see, now. I reckon thar's about ten poles for a ten-foot lodge, +with two more for the smoke-flaps. Now, when ye set her up ye tie +three poles together--so--an' set 'em up first, then lean the other +poles around, except one, an' lash them by carrying the rope around a +few times. Now tie the top o' the cover to the top o' the last pole by +the short lash-rope, hist the pole into place--that hists the cover, +too, ye see--an' ye swing it round with the smoke-poles an' fasten the +two edges together with the wooden pins. The two long poles put in the +smoke-flap pockets works the vent to suit the wind." + +[Illustration: 1st set up tripod] + +In his conversation Caleb had ignored Sam and talked to Yan, but +the son of his father was not so easily abashed. He foresaw several +practical difficulties and did not hesitate to ask for light. + +"What keeps it from blowin' down?" he asked. + +"Wall," said Caleb, still addressing Yan, "the long rope that binds +the poles is carried down under, and fastened tight to a stake that +serves for anchor, 'sides the edge of the cover is pegged to the +ground all around." + +"How do you make the smoke draw?" was his next. + +[Illustration: 2nd set up and bind other six poles] + +"Ye swing the flaps by changing the poles till they is quartering down +the wind. That draws best." + +"How do you close the door?" + +"Wall, some jest lets the edges sag together, but the best teepees has +a door made of the same stuff as the cover put tight on a saplin' +frame an' swung from a lacin' pin." + +[Illustration: 3rd set up tenth pole with teepee cover fastened to it +by lash rope] + +[Illustration: SIOUX TEEPEE] + +This seemed to cover the ground, so carefully folding the dirty paper +with the plan, Yan put it in his pocket, said "Thank you" and went +off. To the "Good-day" of the boys Caleb made no reply, but turned as +they left and asked, "Whar ye camped?" + +"On the knoll by the creek in Raften's swamp." + +"H-m, maybe I'll come an' see ye." + +"All right," Sam called out; "follow the blazed trail from the brush +fence." + +"Why, Sam," said Yan, as soon as they were out of hearing, "there +isn't any blazed trail; why did you say that?" + +"Oh, I thought it sounded well," was the calm answer, "an' it's easy +to have the blazes there as soon as we want to, an' a blame sight +sooner than he's likely to use them." + + + + +VI + +The Making of the Teepee + + +Raften sniffed in amusement when he heard that the boys had really +gone to Caleb and got what they wanted. Nothing pleased him more than +to find his son a successful schemer. + +"Old Caleb wasn't so dead sure about the teepee, as near as I sized +him up," observed Sam. + +"I guess we've got enough to go ahead on," said Yan, "an' tain't a +hanging matter if we do make a mistake." + +The cover was spread out again flat and smooth on the barn floor, and +stones and a few nails put in the sides to hold it. + +The first thing that struck them was that it was a rough and tattered +old rag. + +And Sam remarked: "I see now why Da said we could have it. I reckon +we'll have to patch it before we cut out the teepee." + +"No," said Yan, assuming control, as he was apt to do in matters +pertaining to the woods; "we better draw our plans first so as not to +patch any part that's going to be cut off afterward." + +"Great head! But I'm afraid them patches won't be awful ornamental." + +"They're all right," was the reply. "Indians' teepees are often +patched where bullets and arrows have gone through." + +"Well, I'm glad I wa'n't living inside during them hostilities," and +Sam exposed a dozen or more holes. + +"Oh, get off there and give me that cord." + +"Look out," said Sam; "that's my festered knee. It's near as bad +to-day as it was when we called on the witch." + +Yan was measuring. "Let's see. We can cut off all those rags and still +make a twelve-foot teepee. Twelve foot high--that will be twenty-four +feet across the bottom of the stuff. Fine! That's just the thing. Now +I'll mark her off." + +"Hold on, there," protested his friend; "you can't do that with chalk. +Caleb said the Injuns used a burnt stick. You hain't got no right to +use chalk. 'You might as well hire a carpenter.'" + +"Oh, you go on. You hunt for a burnt stick, and if you don't find one +bring me the shears instead." + +Thus, with many consultations of Caleb's draft, the cutting-out +was done--really a very simple matter. Then the patching was to be +considered. + +Pack-thread, needles and _very l-o-n-g_ stitches were used, but +the work went slowly on. All the spare time of one day was given to +patching. Sam, of course, kept up a patter of characteristic remarks +to the piece he was sewing. Yan sewed in serious silence. At first +Sam's were put on better, but Yan learned fast and at length did by +far the better sewing. + +[Illustration: Decoration of Black Bull's Teepee: (Two Examples of +Doors)] + +[Illustration: THUNDER BULL'S TEEPEE] + + + Notes on Making Teepee: + + The slimmer the poles are at the top where they cross the smaller + the opening in the canvas and the less danger of rain coming in. + + In regions where there is much rain it is well to cut the projecting + poles very short and put over them a "storm cap," "bull boat" or + "shield" made of canvas on a rod bent in a three-foot circle. This + device was used by the Mandans over the smoke-hole of their lodges + during the heavy rains. + +That night the boys were showing their handiwork to the hired hands. +Si Lee, a middle-aged man with a vast waistband, after looking on +with ill-concealed but good-natured scorn, said: + +"Why didn't ye put the patches inside?" + +"Didn't think of it," was Yan's answer. + +"Coz we're goin' to live inside, an' need the room," said Sam. + +"Why did ye make ten stitches in going round that hole; ye could just +as easy have done it in four," and Si sniffed as he pointed to great, +ungainly stitches an inch long. "I call that waste labour." + +"Now see here," blurted Sam, "if you don't like our work let's see you +do it better. There's lots to do yet." + +"Where?" + +"Oh, ask Yan. He's bossin' the job. Old Caleb wouldn't let me in. It +just broke my heart. I sobbed all the way home, didn't I, Yan? + +"There's the smoke-flaps to stitch on and hem, and the pocket at +the top of the flaps--and--I--suppose," Yan added, as a feeler, +"it--would--be--better--if--hemmed--all--around." + +"Now, I tell ye what I'll do. If you boys'll go to the 'Corner' +to-night and get my boots that the cobbler's fixing, I'll sew on the +smoke-flaps." + +"I'll take that offer," said Yan; "and say, Si, it doesn't really +matter which is the outside. You can turn the cover so the patches +will be in." + +The boys got the money to pay for the boots, and after supper they set +out on foot for the "Corner," two miles away. + +"He's a queer duck," and Sam jerked his thumb back to show that he +meant Si Lee; "sounds like a Chinese laundry. I guess that's the only +thing he isn't. He can do any mortal thing but get on in life. He's +been a soldier an' a undertaker an' a cook He plays a fiddle he made +himself; it's a rotten bad one, but it's away ahead of his playing. He +stuffs birds--that Owl in the parlour is his doin'; he tempers razors, +kin doctor a horse or fix up a watch, an' he does it in about the same +way, too; bleeds a horse no matter what ails it, an' takes another +wheel out o' the watch every times he cleans it. He took Larry de +Neuville's old clock apart to clean once--said he knew all about +it--an' when he put it together again he had wheels enough left over +for a new clock. + +"He's too smart an' not smart enough. There ain't anything on earth +he can't do a little, an' there ain't a blessed thing that he can do +right up first-class, but thank goodness sewing canvas is his long +suit. You see he was a sailor for three years--longest time he ever +kept a job, fur which he really ain't to blame, since it was a whaler +on a three-years' cruise." + + + + +VII + +The Calm Evening + + +It was a calm June evening, the time of the second daily outburst of +bird song, the day's aftermath. The singers seemed to be in unusual +numbers as well. Nearly every good perch had some little bird that +seemed near bursting with joy and yet trying to avert that dire +catastrophe. + +As the boys went down the road by the outer fence of their own orchard +a Hawk came sailing over, silencing as he came the singing within a +given radius. Many of the singers hid, but a Meadow Lark that had been +whistling on a stake in the open was now vainly seeking shelter in the +broad field. The Hawk was speeding his way. The Lark dodged and put on +all power to reach the orchard, but the Hawk was after him now--was +gaining--in another moment would have clutched the terrified +musician, but out of the Apple trees there dashed a small +black-and-white bird--the Kingbird. With a loud harsh twitter--his +war-cry--repeated again and again, with his little gray head-feathers +raised to show the blood-and-flame-coloured undercrest--his war +colours--he darted straight at the great robber. + +"Clicker-a-clicker," he fairly screamed, and made for the huge Hawk, +ten times his size. + +"Clicker-a-clicker!" he shrieked, like a cateran shouting the +"slogan," and down like a black-and-white dart--to strike the Hawk +fairly between the shoulders just as the Meadow Lark dropped in +despair to the bare ground and hid its head from the approaching +stroke of death. + +"Clicker-a-clicker"--and the Hawk wheeled in sudden consternation. +"Clicker-a-clicker"--and the dauntless little warrior dropped between +his wings, stabbing and tearing. + +The Hawk bucked like a mustang, the Kingbird was thrown, but sprung on +agile pinions above again. + +"Clicker-a-clicker," and he struck as before. Large brown feathers +were floating away on the breeze now. The Meadow Lark was forgotten. +The Hawk thought only of escape. + +"Clicker-a-clicker," the slogan still was heard. The Hawk was putting +on all speed to get away, but the Kingbird was riding him most of the +time. Several brown feathers floated down, the Hawk dwindled in the +distance to a Sparrow and the Kingbird to a fly dancing on his back. +The Hawk made a final plunge into a thicket, and the king came home +again, uttering the shrill war-cry once or twice, probably to let the +queen know that he was coming back, for she flew to a high branch of +the Apple tree where she could greet the returning hero. He came with +an occasional "clicker-a-clicker"--then, when near her, he sprung +fifty feet in the air and dashed down, screaming his slogan without +interruption, darting zigzag with the most surprising evolutions and +turns--this way, that way, sideways and downward, dealing the +deadliest blows right and left at an imaginary foe, then soared, and +did it all over again two or three times, just to show how far he was +from being tired, and how much better he could have done it had it +been necessary. Then with a final swoop and a volley of "clickers" he +dashed into the bush to receive the congratulations of the one for +whom it all was meant and the only spectator for whose opinion he +cared in the least. + +[Illustration: "Clicker-a-clicker!' he shrieked ... and down like a +dart."] + +"Now, ain't that great," said Sam, with evident sincerity and +pleasure. His voice startled Yan and brought him back. He had been +wholly lost in silent admiring wonder of the dauntless little +Kingbird. + +A Vesper Sparrow ran along the road before them, flitting a few +feet ahead each time they overtook it and showing the white outer +tail-feathers as it flew. + +"A little Graybird," remarked Sam. + +"No, that isn't a Graybird; that's a Vesper Sparrow," exclaimed Yan, +in surprise, for he knew he was right. + +"Well, _I_ dunno," said Sam, yielding the point. + +"I thought you said you knew every bird that flies and all about it" +replied his companion, for the memory of this first day was strong +with him yet. + +Sam snorted: "I didn't know you then. I was just loadin' you up so +you'd think I was a wonderful feller, an' you did, too--for awhile." + +A Red-headed Woodpecker, carrying a yellow butterfly, flew on a fence +stake ahead of them and peeped around as they drew near. The setting +sun on his bright plumage, the lilac stake and the yellow butterfly, +completed a most gorgeous bit of colour and gave Yan a thrill of joy. +A Meadow Lark on a farther stake, a Bluebird on another, and a Vesper +Bird on a stone, each added his appeal to eye and ear, till Sam +exclaimed: + +"Oh, ain't that awful nice?" and Yan was dumb with a sort of saddened +joy. + +Birds hate the wind, and this was one of those birdy days that come +only with a dead calm. + +They passed a barn with two hundred pairs of Swallows flying and +twittering around, a cut bank of the road had a colony of 1,000 Sand +Martins, a stream had its rattling Kingfishers, and a marsh was the +playground of a multitude of Red-winged Blackbirds. + +Yan was lifted up with the joy of the naturalist at seeing so many +beautiful living things. Sam felt it, too; he grew very silent, and +the last half-mile to the "Corner" was passed without a word. The +boots were got. Sam swung them around his neck and the boys set out +for home. The sun was gone, but not the birds, and the spell of the +evening was on them still. A Song Sparrow by the brook and a Robin +high in the Elm were yet pouring out their liquid notes in the +gloaming. + +"I wish I could be always here," said Yan, but he started a little +when he remembered how unwilling he had been to come. + +There was a long silence as they lingered on the darkening road. Each +was thinking hard. + +A loud, startling but soft "Ohoo--O-hoo--O-hoooooo," like the coo of a +giant dove, now sounded about their heads in a tree. They stopped and +Sam whispered, "Owl; big Hoot Owl." Yan's heart leaped with pleasure. +He had read all his life of Owls, and even had seen them alive in +cages, but this was the first time he had ever heard the famous +hooting of the real live wild Owl, and it was a delicious experience. + +The night was quite dark now, but there were plenty of sounds that +told of life. A Whippoorwill was chanting in the woods, a hundred +Toads and Frogs creaked and trilled, a strange rolling, laughing cry +on a marshy pond puzzled them both, then a Song Sparrow in the black +night of a dense thicket poured forth its sweet little sunshine song +with all the vigour and joy of its best daytime doing. + +They listened attentively for a repetition of the serenade, when a +high-pitched but not loud "_Wa--wa--wa--wa--wa--wa--wa--wa_!" +reached their ears from a grove of heavy timbers. + +"Hear that?" exclaimed Sam. + +Again it came, a quavering squall, apparently much nearer. It was a +rather shrill sound, quite unbirdy, and Sam whispered: + +"Coon--that's the whicker of a Coon. We can come down here some time +when corn's 'in roastin'' an' have a Coon hunt." + +"Oh, Sam, wouldn't that be glorious!" said Yan. "How I wish it was +now. I never saw a Coon hunt or any kind of a hunt. Do we have to wait +till 'roasting-ear' time?" + +"Oh, yes; it's easier to find them then. You say to your Coons, 'Me +an' me dogs will meet you to-night at the nearest roastin'-ear patch,' +an' sure nuff _they'll_ keep the appointment." + +"But they're around now, for we just heard one, _and there's +another_." + +A long faint "_Lil--lil--lil--lil--lil--li-looo!_" now sounded +from the trees. It was like the other, but much softer and sweeter. + +"There's where you fool yerself," replied Sam, "an' there's where many +a hunter is fooled. That last one's the call of a Screech Owl. You see +it's softer and whistlier than the Coon whicker." + +They heard it again and again from the trees. It was a sweet musical +sound, and Yan remembered how squally the Coon call was in comparison, +and yet many hunters never learn the difference. + +As they came near the tree whence the Owl called at intervals, a gray +blot went over their heads, shutting out a handful of stars for a +moment as it passed over them, but making no noise. "There he goes," +whispered Sam. "That's the Screech Owl. Not much of a screech, was +it?" Not long afterward Yan came across a line of Lowell's which says, +"The song of the Screech Owl is the sweetest sound in nature," and +appreciated the absurdity of the name. + +"I want to go on a Coon hunt," continued Yan, and the sentence was +just tinged with the deep-laid doggedness that was usually lost in his +courteous manner. + +"That settles it," answered the other, for he was learning what that +tone meant. "We'll surely go when you talk that way, for, of coorse, +it _kin_ be done. You see, I know more about animals than birds," +he continued. "I'm just as likely to be a dentist as a hunter so far +as serious business is concerned, but I'd sure love to be a hunter for +awhile, an' I made Da promise to go with me some time. Maybe we kin +get a Deer by going back ten miles to the Long Swamp. I only wish Da +and Old Caleb hadn't fought, 'cause Caleb sure knows the woods, an' +that old Hound of his has treed more Coons than ye could shake a stick +at in a month o' Sundays." + +"Well, if that's the only Coon dog around, I'm going to get him. +You'll see," was the reply. + +"I believe you will," answered Sam, in a tone of mixed admiration and +amusement. + +It was ten o'clock when they got home, and every one was in bed but +Mr. Raften. The boys turned in at once, but next morning, on going +to the barn, they found that Si had not only sewed on and hemmed the +smoke-flaps, but had resewn the worst of the patches and hemmed the +whole bottom of the teepee cover with a small rope in the hem, so that +they were ready now for the pins and poles. + +The cover was taken at once to the camp ground. Yan carried the axe. +When they came to the brush fence over the creek at the edge of the +swamp, he said: + +"Sam, I want to blaze that trail for old Caleb. How do you do it?" + +"Spot the trees with the axe every few yards." + +"This way?" and Yan cut a tree in three places, so as to show three +white spots or blazes. + +"No; that's a trapper's blaze for a trap or a 'special blaze', but +a 'road blaze' is one on the front of the tree and one on the +back--so--then ye can run the trail both ways, an' you put them +thicker if it's to be followed at night." + + + + +VIII + +The Sacred Fire + + +"Ten strong poles and two long thin ones," said Yan, reading off. These +were soon cut and brought to the camp ground. + +"Tie them together the same height as the teepee cover----" + +"Tie them? With what?" + +"'Rawhide rope,' he said, but he also said 'Make the cover of skins.' +I'm afraid we shall have to use common rope for the present," and Yan +looked a little ashamed of the admission. + +"I reckoned so," drawled Sam, "and so I put a coil of quarter-inch in +the cover, but I didn't dare to tell you that up at the barn." + +The tripod was firmly lashed with the rope and set up. Nine poles were +duly leaned around in a twelve-foot circle, for a teepee twelve feet +high usually has a twelve-foot base. A final lashing of the ropes held +these, and the last pole was then put up opposite to the door, with +the teepee cover tied to it at the point between the flaps. The ends +of the two smoke-poles carried the cover round. Then the lacing-pins +were needed. Yan tried to make them of Hickory shoots, but the large, +soft pith came just where the point was needed. So Sam said, "You +can't beat White Oak for pins." He cut a block of White Oak, split it +down the middle, then split half of it in the middle again, and so on +till it was small enough to trim and finish with his knife. Meanwhile +Yan took the axe to split another, but found that it ran off to one +side instead of going straight down the grain. + +"No good," was Sam's comment. "You must keep _halving_ each time +or it will run out toward the thin pieces. You want to split shingles +all winter to larn that." + +Ten pins were made eight inches long and a quarter of an inch thick. +They were used just like dressmakers' stickpins, only the holes had to +be made first, and, of course, they looked better for being regular. +Thus the cover was laced on. The lack of ground-pegs was then seen. + +"You make ten Oak pins a foot long and an inch square, Sam. I've a +notion how to fix them." Then Yan cut ten pieces of the rope, each two +feet long, and made a hole about every three feet around the base of +the cover above the rope in the outer seam. He passed one end of each +short rope through this and knotted it to the other end. Thus he had +ten peg-loops, and the teepee was fastened down and looked like a +glorious success. + +Now came the grand ceremony of all, the lighting of the first fire. +The boys felt it to be a supreme and almost a religious moment. It is +curious to note that they felt very much as savages do under the same +circumstances--that the setting up of the new teepee and lighting its +first fire is an act of deep significance, and to be done only with +proper regard for its future good luck. + +"Better go slow and sure about that fire. It'd be awfully unlucky to +have it fizzle for the first time." + +"That's so," replied Yan, with the same sort of superstitious dread. +"Say, Sam, if we could really light it with rubbing-sticks, wouldn't +it be great?" + +"Hallo!" + +The boys turned, and there was Caleb close to them. He came over and +nodded. "Got yer teepee, I see? Not bad, but what did ye face her to +the west fur?" + +"Fronting the creek," explained Yan. + +"I forgot to tell ye," said Caleb, "an Injun teepee always fronts the +east; first, that gives the morning sun inside; next, the most wind is +from the west, so the smoke is bound to draw." + +"And what if the wind is right due east?" asked Sam, "which it surely +will be when it rains?" + +"And when the wind's east," continued Caleb, addressing no one in +particular, and not as though in answer to a question, "ye lap the +flaps across each other tight in front, so," and he crossed his hands +over his chest. "That leaves the east side high and shuts out the +rain; if it don't draw then, ye raise the bottom of the cover under +the door just a little--that always fetches her. An' when you change +her round don't put her in under them trees. Trees is dangerous; in a +storm they draw lightning, an' branches fall from them, an' after rain +they keep on dripping for an hour. Ye need all the sun ye kin get on a +teepee. + +"Did you ever see Indians bring fire out of two sticks by rubbing, Mr. +Clark?" + +"Oh, yes. Most of the Injuns now carry matches, but in the early days +I seen it done often enough." + +"Does it take long? Is it hard?" + +"Not so long, and it's easy enough, when ye know how." + +"My! I'd rather bring fire out of two sticks than have a ten dollar +bill," said Yan, with enthusiasm that meant much, for one dollar was +his high-water mark of affluence, and this he had reached but once in +his life. + +"Oh, I dunno'; that depends," was Sam's more guarded response. + +"Can _you_ do it?" asked Yan. + +"Wall, yes, if I kin get the right stuff. Ye see, it ain't every wood +that will do it. It's got to be jest right. The Plains Injuns use +Cottonwood root, an' the Mountain Injuns use Sage-brush root. I've +seen the Canadian Injuns use Basswood, Cedar and dry White Pine, +but the Chippewas mostly use Balsam Fir. The easiest way is with a +bow-drill. Have ye any buckskin?" + +"No." + +"Or a strip o' soft leather?" + +"I've got a leather shoe-lace," said Yan. + +"Rather slim; but we'll double it an' make it do. A cord will answer, +but it frays out so soon." Caleb took the lace and the axe, then said, +"Find me a stone 'bout the size of an egg, with a little hole into +it--like a socket hole--'bout a quarter inch deep." + +The boys went to the creek to seek a stone and Caleb went into the +woods. + +They heard him chopping, and presently he came back with a flat piece +of very dry Balsam Fir, a fifteen-inch pin of the same, a stick about +three feet long, slightly bent, some dry Pine punk and some dry Cedar. + +The pin was three-quarters of an inch thick and was roughly +eight-sided, "so the lace would grip." It was pointed at both ends. He +fastened the lace to the bent stick like a bow-string, but loosely, so +that when it had one turn around the pin it was quite tight. The flat +piece of Balsam he trimmed down to about half an inch thick. In the +edge of this he now cut a notch one-quarter inch wide and half an inch +deep, then on the top of this fire-board or block, just beyond the +notch, he made with the point of his knife a little pit. + +He next scraped and shredded a lot of dry Cedar wood like lint. Then +making a hole half an inch deep in the ground, he laid in that a flat +piece of Pine punk, and across this he set the fire-board. The point +of the pin or drill was put in the pit of the fire-board, which he +held down with one foot; the lace was given one turn on the pin, and +its top went into the hole of the stone the boys brought. The stone +was held firmly in Caleb's left hand. + +"Sometimes," he remarked, "when ye can't find a stone, a Pine knot +will do--ye kin make the socket-hole with a knife-point." + +Now holding the bow in his right hand, he began to draw it back and +forth with long, steady strokes, causing the pin to whirl round in the +socket. Within a few seconds a brown powder began to run out of the +notch of the fire-board onto the punk. The pit increased in size and +blackened, the powder darkened, and a slight smoke arose from the pit. +Caleb increased the pressure of his left hand a little, and sawed +faster with the right. The smoke steadily increased and the black +powder began to fill the notch. The smoke was rolling in little clouds +from under the pin, and it even seemed to come from the heap of +powder. As soon as he saw that, Caleb dropped the bow and gently +fanned the powder heap. It still smoked. He removed the fire-board, +and lifting the punk, showed the interior of the powder to be one +glowing coal. On this he laid the Cedar tinder and over that a second +piece of punk. Then raising it, he waved it in the air and blew gently +for awhile. It smouldered and then burst into a flame. The other +material was handy, and in a very short time they had a blazing fire +in the middle of the new teepee. + +[Illustration: THE RUBBING-STICKS FOR FIRE-MAKING] + +All three were pictures of childish delight. The old man's face fairly +beamed with triumph. Had he failed in his experiment he would have +gone off hating those boys, but having made a brilliant success he was +ready to love every one concerned, though they had been nothing more +than interested spectators of his exploit. + +[Illustration: RUBBING-STICKS--FOR FIRE-MAKING (See Description Below)] + +Two tools and two sticks are needed. The tools are bow and +drill-socket; the sticks are drill and fire-board. + +1. The simplest kind of bow--a bent stick with a stout leather thong +fastened at each end. The stick must not spring. It is about 27 inches +long and 5/8 inch thick. + +2. A more elaborate bow with a hole at each end for the thong. At the +handle end it goes through a disc of wood. This is to tighten the +thong by pressure of the hand against the disc while using. + +3. Simplest kind of drill-socket--a pine or hemlock knot with a +shallow hole or pit in it. _3a_ is under view of same. It is +about 4-1/2 inches long. + +4. A more elaborate drill-socket--a pebble cemented with gum in a +wooden holder. _4a_ is under view of same. + +5. A very elaborate drill-socket; it is made of tulip wood, carved to +represent the Thunderbird. It has eyes of green felspar cemented in +with resin. On the under side (_5a_) is seen, in the middle, a +soapstone socket let into the wood and fastened with pine gum, and +on the head a hole kept filled with grease, to grease the top of the +drill before use. + +6. The drill, 12 to 18 inches long and about 3/4 of an inch thick; it +is roughly 8-sided so the thong will not slip, pointed at each end. +The best wood for the drill is old, dry, brash, but not punky balsam +fir or cotton-wood roots; but basswood, white cedar, red cedar, +tamarack, and sometimes even white pine, will do. + +7. Fire-board or block, about 3/4 of an inch thick and any length +handy; _a_ is notch with pit just below shows the pit after once +using and in good trim for a second time; _c_ shows the pit bored +through and useless; the notch is 1/2 inch wide and 3/4 inch deep. + +8. Shows the way of using the sticks. The block (_a_) is held +down with one foot, the end of the drill in the pit, the drill-socket +(_c_) is held on top in left hand, one end of the bow (_d_) +is held in the right hand the bow is drawn back and forth. + +9. Is a little wooden fire-pan, not essential but convenient; its thin +edge is put under the notch to catch the powder that falls. + + + + +IX + +The Bows and Arrows + + +"I don't think much of your artillery," said Yan one day as they were +shooting in the orchard with Sam's "Western outfit." "It's about like +the first one I made when I was young." + +"Well, grandpa, let's see your up-to-date make?" + +"It'd be about five times as strong, for one thing." + +"You couldn't pull it." + +"Not the way you hold the arrow! But last winter I got a book about +archery from the library and learned something worth while. You pinch +the arrow that way and you can draw six or eight pounds, maybe, but +you hook your fingers in the string--so--and you can draw five times +as much, and that's the right way to shoot." + +"Feels mighty clumsy," said Sam, trying it. + +"Of course it does at first, and you have to have a deep notch in the +arrow or you can't do it at all." + +"You don't seem to manage any better than I do." + +"First time I ever had a chance to try since I read about it. But I +want to make a first-class bow and a lot of arrows. It's not much good +going with _one_." + +[Illustration: The Archer's Grip] + + +"Well, go ahead an' make an outfit if you know how. What's the best +wood? Did the book tell you that?" + +"The best wood is Spanish Yew." + +"Don't know it." + +"An' the next is Oregon Yew." + +"Nope." + +"Then Lancewood and Osage Orange." + +'Try again." + +"Well, Red Cedar, Apple tree, Hickory and Elm seem to be the only ones +that grow around here." + +"Hain't seen any _Red_ Cedar, but the rest is easy." + +"It has to be thoroughly seasoned winter-cut wood, and cut so as to +have heart on one side and sap wood on the other." + +"How's that?" and Sam pointed to a lot of half-round Hickory sticks +on the rafters of the log house. "Those have been there a couple of +years." + +A good one of five feet long was selected and split and hewn with the +axe till the boys had the two bow staves, five and one-half feet long +and two inches square, with the line of the heart and sap wood down +the middle of each. + +Guided by his memory of that precious book and some English long bows +that he had seen in a shop in town, Yan superintended the manufacture. +Sam was apt with tools, and in time they finished two bows, five feet +long and drawing possibly twenty-five pounds each. In the middle they +were one and one-half inches wide and an inch thick (see page 183). +This size they kept for nine inches each way, making an eighteen-inch +middle part that did not bend, but their two limbs were shaved down +and scraped with glass till they bent evenly and were well within the +boys' strength. + +The string was the next difficulty. All the ordinary string they could +get around the house proved too weak, never lasting more than two +or three shots, till Si Lee, seeing their trouble, sent them to the +cobbler's for a hank of unbleached linen thread and some shoemaker's +wax. Of this thread he reeled enough for a strong cord tight around +two pegs seven feet apart, then cutting it loose at one end he divided +it equally in three parts, and, after slight waxing, he loosely +plaited them together. At Yan's suggestion he then spliced a loop at +one end, and with a fine waxed thread lashed six inches of the middle +where the arrow fitted, as well as the splice of the loop. This last +enabled them to unstring the bow when not in use (see page 183). +"There," said he, "you won't break that." The finishing touch was +thinly coating the bows with some varnish found among the paint +supplies. + +"Makes my old bow look purty sick," remarked Sam, as he held up the +really fine new weapon in contrast with the wretched little hoop that +had embodied his early ideas. "Now what do you know about arrers, +mister?" as he tried his old arrow in the new bow. + +"I know that that's no good," was the reply; "an' I can tell you that +it's a deal harder to make an arrow than a bow--that is, a good one." + +"That's encouraging, considering the trouble we've had already." + +"'Tisn't meant to be, but we ought to have a dozen arrows each." + +"How do the Injuns make them?" + +"Mostly they get straight sticks of the Arrow-wood; but I haven't seen +any Arrow-wood here, and they're not so awfully straight. You see, an +arrow must be straight or it'll fly crooked. 'Straight as an arrow' +means the thing itself. We can do better than the Indians 'cause we +have better tools. We can split them out of the solid wood." + +"What wood? Some bloomin' foreign kind that no White-man never saw nor +heard of before?" + +"No sir-ree. There ain't anything better 'n White Pine for target and +Ash or Hickory for hunting arrows. Which are we making?" + +"I'm a hunter. Give me huntin' arrows every time. What's needed next?" + +"Seasoned Ash twenty-five inches long, split to three-eighths of an +inch thick, hot glue, and turkey-wing feathers." + +"I'll get the feathers and let you do the rest," said Sam, producing +a bundle of turkey-wings, laid away as stove-dusters, and then belied +his own statement by getting a block of Ash and splitting it up, +halving it each time till he had a pile of two dozen straight sticks +about three-quarters of an inch thick. + +Yan took one and began with his knife to whittle it down to proper +size and shape, but Sam said, "I can do better than that," then took +the lot to the workbench and set to work with a smoothing plane. Yan +looked worried and finally said: + +"Injuns didn't have planes." + +"Nor jack-knives neither," was the retort. + +That was true, and yet somehow Yan's ideal that he hankered after +was the pre-Columbian Indian, the one who had no White-man's help or +tools. + +"It seems to me it'd be more Injun to make these with just what we get +in the woods. The Injuns didn't have jack-knives, but they had sharp +flints in the old days." + +"Yan, you go ahead with a sharp stone. You'll find lots on the road if +you take off your shoes and walk barefoot--awful sharp; an' I'll go +ahead with the smoothing plane an' see who wins." + +Yan was not satisfied, but he contented himself with promising that he +would some day make some arrows of Arrow-wood shoots and now he +would finish at least one with his knife. He did so, but Sam, in the +meantime, made six much better ones with the smoothing plane. + +"What about heads?" said he. + +"I've been thinking," was the reply. "Of course the Indians used stone +heads fastened on with sinew, but we haven't got the stuff to do that. +Bought heads of iron with a ferrule for the end of the arrow are best, +but we can't get them. Bone heads and horn heads will do. I made some +fine ones once filing bones into the shape, but they were awfully +brittle; and I made some more of big nails cut off and set in with a +lashing of fine wire around the end to stop the wood splitting. Some +Indian arrows have no point but the stick sharpened after it's +scorched to harden it." + +[Illustration: SIX SAMPLE ARROWS, SHOWING DIFFERENT FEATHERS] + +"That sounds easy enough for me," said Sam; "let's make some of them +that way." + +So the arrows were made, six each with nail points filed sharp and +lashed with broom wire. These were called "War arrows," and six each +with fire-hardened wood points for hunting arrows. + +"Now for the feathering," and Yan showed Sam how to split the midrib +of a turkey feather and separate the vane. + +"Le's see, you want twice twenty-four--that's forty-eight feathers." + +"No," said Yan, "that's a poor feathering, two on each. We want three +on each arrow--seventy-two strips in all, and mind you, we want all +three that are on one arrow from the same side of the bird." + +"I know. I'll bet it's bad luck to mix sides; arrows doesn't know +which way to turn." + +At this moment Si Lee came in. "How are ye gettin' on with the bows?" + +"Waitin' for arrows now." + +"How do ye put on the feathers?" + + DESCRIPTION OF SIX SAMPLE ARROWS SHOWING DIFFERENT FEATHERS + + _A_ is a far-flying steel-pointed bobtail, very good in wind. + _B_ is another very good arrow, with a horn point. This went + even better than _A_ if there were no wind. _C_ is an + Omaha war and deer arrow. Both heads and feathers are lashed on + with sinew. The long tufts of down left on the feathers are to + help in finding it again, as they are snow-white and wave in the + breeze. The grooves on the shaft are to make the victim bleed more + freely and be more easily tracked. _D_ is another Omaha + arrow with a peculiar owner's mark of lines carved in the middle, + _E_ is a bone-headed bird shaft made by the Indians of the + Mackenzie River. _F_ is a war arrow made by Geronimo, the + famous Apache chief. Its shaft is three joints of a straight cane. + The tip is of hard wood, and on that is a fine quartz point; all + being lashed together with sinew. + +"White-men glue them on, and Injuns lash them on," replied Yan, +quoting from memory from "that book." + +"Which is best?" + +"Glued on flies better, but lashed on stands the weather better." + +"Why not both?" + +"Have no sinew." + +"Let me show ye a trick. Where's yer glue an' linen thread?" + +These were brought, whereupon Si added: "'Pears to me ye oughter put +the feathers on last. Better cut the notch first." + +"That's so; we nearly forgot." + +"_You_ nearly forgot, you mean. Don't drag _me_ in the mud," +said Sam, with owlish dignity. A small saw cut, cleaned up and widened +with a penknife, proved the best; a notch one-fourth inch deep was +quickly made in each arrow, and Si set about _both_ glueing +_and_ lashing on the feathers, but using wax-end instead of +sinew. + +Yan had marked the place for each feather so that none would strike +the bow in passing (see Cut page 183). He first glued them on, +then made a lashing for half an inch on the projecting ends of the +feather-rib, and another behind, carrying this second lashing back to +the beginning of the notch to guard against the wood splitting. When +he had trimmed all loose ends and rolled the waxed thread well on the +bench with a flat stick, the threads seemed to disappear and leave +simply a smooth black ring. + + + THE ARCHERY OUTFIT (Not all on scale) + + I. The five-foot bow as finished, with sections at the points shown. + + II. The bow "braced" or strung. + + III. The bow unstrung, showing the loop slipped down. + + IV. The loop that is used on the upper end of the bow. + + V. The timber hitch always used on the lower end or notch of the bow. + + VI. A turkey feather with split midrib, all ready to lash on. + + VII. End view of arrow, showing notch and arrangement of three + feathers. + + VIII. Part of arrow, showing feathering and lashing. + + IX. Sanger hunting arrow with wooden point; 25 inches long. + + X. Sanger war arrow with nail point and extra long feathers; it also + is 25 inches long. + + XI. Quiver with Indian design; 20 inches long. + + XII. The "bracer" or arm guard of heavy leather for left arm, with two + laces to tie it on. It is six inches long. + + * * * * * + +Thus the arrows were made and set away for the glue to dry. + +Next day Yan painted Sam's red and blue, his own red and white, to +distinguish them as well as guard them from the damp. There was now +one more thing, and that was a quiver. + +"Do the Injuns have them?" asked Sam, with a keen eye to orthodoxy +when it promised to cut short the hard work. + +"Well, I should say so; couldn't live without them." + +"All right; hurry up. I'm spoiling for a hunt. What are they made of?" + +"Oh, 'most anything." + +"Haven't got it." + +"You're too fast. But some use Birch bark, some use the skin of an +animal, and some use canvas now when other stuff is scarce." + +"That's us. You mind the stuff left off the teepee?" + +"Do till we get better." So each made a sort of canvas bag shorter +than the arrows. Yan painted an Indian device on each, and they were +ready. + +"Now bring on your Bears," said the older boy, and feeling a sense of +complete armament, they went out. + +"See who can hit that tree." Both fired together and missed, but Sam's +arrow struck another tree and split open. + +"Guess we'd better get a soft target," he remarked. Then after +discussion they got a large old corn sack full of hay, painted on it +some rings around a bull's eye (a Buffalo's eye, Sam called it) and +set it up at twenty yards. + +They were woefully disappointed at first in their shooting. It did +seem a very easy mark, and it was disappointing to have the arrows fly +some feet away to the left. + +"Le's get in the barn and shoot at that," suggested Sam. + +"We might hit it if we shut the door tight," was the optimistic reply. +As well as needing practice, the boys had to learn several little +rules about Archery. But Yan had some pencil notes from "that book" +and some more in his brain that with much practice gradually taught +him: To stand with his heel centres in line with the target; his right +elbow in line with the arrow; his left hand fixed till the arrow +struck; his right thumb always on the same place on his cheek when he +fired, and the bow plumb. + +They soon found that they needed guards for the left arm where the bow +strings struck, and these they made out of the leg of an old boot (see +Cut page 183), and an old glove to protect the fingers of the right +hand when they practised very much. After they learned to obey the +rules without thinking about them, the boys improved quickly and soon +they were able to put all the arrows into the hay sack at twenty +yards, increasing the distance later till they could make fair +shooting at forty yards. + +They were not a little surprised to find how much individuality the +arrows had, although meant to be exactly alike. + +Sam had one that continued to warp until it was much bent, and the +result was some of the most surprising curves in its flight. This he +called the "Boomerang." Another, with a very small feather, travelled +farther than any of the rest. This was the "Far-killer." His best +arrow, one that he called "Sure-death," was a long-feathered Turkey +shaft with a light head. It was very reliable on a calm day, but +apt to swerve in the wind. Yet another, with a small feather, was +correspondingly reliable on a windy day. This was "Wind-splitter." + +The one Yan whittled with the knife was called the "Whittler," and +sometimes the "Joker." It was a perpetual mystery, they never knew +just what it would do next. His particular pet was one with a hollow +around the point, which made a whistling sound when it flew, and was +sometimes called the "Whistler" and sometimes the "Jabberwock," +"which whiffled through the tulgy wood and burbled as it came." + +[Illustration: CORRECT FORM IN SHOOTING The diagram at bottom is to +show the centres of heels in line with target.] + + + + +X + +The Dam + + +One hot day early in July they were enjoying themselves in the shallow +bathing-hole of the creek, when Sam observed: "It's getting low. It +goes dry every summer." + +This was not pleasing to foresee, and Yan said, "Why can't we make a +dam?" + +"A little too much like work." + +"Oh, pshaw! That'd be fun and we'd have a swimming-place for all +summer, then. Come on; let's start now." + +"Never heard of Injuns doing so much work." + +"Well, we'll play Beaver while we do it. Come on, now; here's for +a starter," and Yan carried a big stone to what seemed to him the +narrowest place. Then he brought more, and worked with enthusiasm till +he had a line of stones right across the creek bed. + +Sam still sat naked on the bank, his knees to his chin and his arms +around them. The war-paint was running down his chest in blue and red +streaks. + +"Come on, here, you lazy freak, and work," cried Yan, and flung a +handful of mud to emphasize the invite. + +"My festered knee's broke out again," was the reply. + +At length Yan said, "I'm not going to do it all alone," and +straightened up his back. + +"Look a-here," was the answer. "I've been thinking. The cattle water +here. The creek runs dry in summer, then the cattle has to go to the +barnyard and drink at the trough--has to be pumped for, and hang round +for hours after hoping some one will give them some oats, instead of +hustling back to the woods to get fat. Now, two big logs across there +would be more'n half the work. I guess we'll ask Da to lend us the +team to put them logs across to make a drinking-pond for the cattle. +Them cattle is awful on my mind. Didn't sleep all night thinking o' +them. I just hate like pizen to see them walking all the way to the +barn in hot weather for a drink--'tain't right." So Sam waited for a +proper chance to "tackle" his father. It did not come that day, but at +breakfast next morning Raften looked straight at Yan across the table, +and evidently thinking hard about something, said: + +"Yahn, this yer room is twenty foot by fifteen, how much ilecloth +three foot wide will it call fur?" + +"Thirty-three and one-third yards," Yan said at once. + +Raften was staggered. Yan's manner was convincing, but to do all that +in his head was the miracle. Various rude tests were applied and the +general opinion prevailed that Yan was right. + +The farmer's face beamed with admiration for the first time. "Luk at +that," he said to the table, "luk at that fur eddication. When'll you +be able to do the like?" he said to Sam. + +"Never," returned his son, with slow promptness. "Dentists don't have +to figger on ilecloth." + +"Say, Yan," said Sam aside, "guess _you_ better tackle Da about +the dam. Kind o' sot up about ye this mornin'; your eddication has +softened him some, an' it'll last till about noon, I jedge. Strike +while the iron is hot." + +So after breakfast Yan commenced: + +"Mr. Raften, the creek's running dry. We want to make a pond for the +cattle to drink, but we can't make a dam without two big logs across. +Will you let us have the team a few minutes to place the logs?" + +"It ain't fur a swimmin'-pond, is it, ye mean?" said Raften, with a +twinkle in his eye. + +"It would do for that as well," and Yan blushed. + +"Sounds to me like Sam talking through Yan's face," added Raften, +shrewdly taking in the situation. "I'll see fur meself." + +Arrived at the camp, he asked: "Now, whayer's yer dam to be? Thar? +That's no good. It's narrer but it'd be runnin' round both ends afore +ye had any water to speak of. Thayer's a better place, a bit wider, +but givin' a good pond. Whayer's yer logs? Thayer? What--my seasoning +timber? Ye can't hev that. That's the sill fur the new barrn; nor +that--it's seasonin' fur gate posts. Thayer's two ye kin hev. I'll +send the team, but don't let me ketch ye stealin' any o' my seasonin' +timber or the fur'll fly." + +With true Raften promptness the heavy team came, the two great logs +were duly dragged across and left as Yan requested (four feet apart +for the top of the dam). + +The boys now drove in a row of stakes against each log on the inner +side, to form a crib, and were beginning to fill in the space with mud +and stones. They were digging and filling it up level as they went. +Clay was scarce and the work went slowly; the water, of course, rising +as the wall arose, added to the difficulty. But presently Yan said: + +"Hold on. New scheme. Let's open her and dig a deep trench on one +side so all the water will go by, then leave a clay wall to it" [the +trench] "and dig a deep hole on the other side of it. That will give +us plenty of stuff for the dam and help to deepen the pond." + +Thus they worked. In a week the crib was full of packed clay and +stone. Then came the grand finish--the closing of this sluiceway +through the dam. It was not easy with the full head of water running, +but they worked like beavers and finally got it stopped. + +That night there was a heavy shower. Next day when they came near they +heard a dull roar in the woods. They stopped and listened in doubt, +then Yan exclaimed gleefully: "The dam! That's the water running over +the dam." + +They both set off with a yell and ran their fastest. As soon as they +came near they saw a great sheet of smooth water where the stony creek +bottom had been and a steady current over the low place left as an +overflow in the middle of the dam. + +What a thrill of pleasure that was! + +"Last in's a dirty sucker." + +"Look out for my bad knee," was the response. + +The rest of the race was a mixture of stripping and sprinting and the +boys splashed in together. + +Five feet deep in the deep hole, a hundred yards long, and all their +own doing. + +"Now, wasn't it worth it?" asked Yan, who had had much difficulty in +keeping Sam steadily at play that looked so very much like work. + +"Wonder how that got here? I thought I left that in the teepee?" and +Sam pointed to a log that he used for a seat in the teepee, but now it +was lodged in the overflow. + +Yan was a good swimmer, and as they played and splashed, Sam said: +"Now I know who you are. You can't hide it from me no longer. I +suspicioned it when you were working on the dam. You're that tarnal +Redskin they call 'Little Beaver.'" + +"I've been watching you," retorted Yan, "and it seems to me I've run up +against that copper-coloured scallawag--'Young-Man-Afraid-of-a-Shovel.'" + +[Illustration: The dam was a great success] + +"No, you don't," said Sam. "Nor I ain't +'_Bald-Eagle-Settin'-on-a-Rock-with-his-Tail-Hangin'-over-the-Edge,'_ +nuther. In fact, I don't keer to be recognized just now. Ain't it a +relief to think the cattle don't have to take that walk any more?" + +Sam was evidently trying to turn the subject, but Yan would not be +balked. "I heard Si call you 'Woodpecker' the other day." + +"Yep. I got that at school. When I was a kid to hum I heerd Ma talk +about me be-a-u-tiful _golden_ hair, but when I got big enough +to go to school I learned that it was only _red_, an' they called +me the 'Red-headed Woodpecker.' I tried to lick them, but lots of them +could lick me an' rubbed it in wuss. When I seen fightin' didn't +work, I let on to like it, but it was too late then. Mostly it's just +'Woodpecker' for short. I don't know as it ever lost me any sleep." + +Half an hour later, as they sat by the fire that Yan made with +rubbing-sticks, he said, "Say, Woodpecker, I want to tell you a +story." Sam grimaced, pulled his ears forward, and made ostentatious +preparations to listen. + +"There was once an Indian squaw taken prisoner by some other tribe way +up north. They marched her 500 miles away, but one night she escaped +and set out, not on the home trail, for she knew they would follow +that way and kill her, but to one side. She didn't know the country +and got lost. She had no weapons but a knife, and no food but berries. +Well, she travelled fast for several days till a rainstorm came, then +she felt safe, for she knew her enemies could not trail her now. But +winter was near and she could not get home before it came. So she set +to work right where she was. + +"She made a wigwam of Birch bark and a fire with rubbing-sticks, using +the lace of her moccasin for a bow-string. She made snares of the +inner bark of the Willow and of Spruce roots, and deadfalls, too, for +Rabbits. She was starving sometimes, at first, but she ate the buds +and inner bark of Birch trees till she found a place where there were +lots of Rabbits. And when she caught some she used every scrap of +them. She made a fishing-line of the sinews, and a hook of the bones +and teeth lashed together with sinew and Spruce gum. + +"She made a cloak of Rabbit skins, sewed with needles of Rabbit bone +and thread of Rabbit sinew, and a lot of dishes of Birch bark sewed +with Spruce roots. + +"She put in the whole winter there alone, and when the spring came she +was found by Samuel Hearne, the great traveller. Her precious knife +was worn down, but she was fat and happy and ready to set out for her +own people." + +"Well, I say that's mighty inter-est-in'," said Sam--he had listened +attentively--"an' I'd like nothin' better than to try it myself if I +had a gun an' there was lots of game." + +"Pooh, who wouldn't?" + +"Mighty few--an' there's mighty few who _could_." +"I could." + +"What, make everything with just a knife? I'd like to see you make +a teepee," then adding earnestly, "Sam, we've been kind o' playing +Injuns; now let's do it properly. Let's make everything out of what we +find in the woods." + +"Guess we'll have to visit the Sanger Witch again. She knows all about +plants." + +"We'll be the Sanger Indians. We can both be Chiefs," said Yan, not +wishing to propose himself as Chief or caring to accept Sam as his +superior. "I'm Little Beaver. Now what are you?" + +"Bloody-Thundercloud-in-the-Afternoon." + +"No, try again. Make it something you can draw, so you can make your +totem, and make it short." + +"What's the smartest animal there is?" + +"I--I--suppose the Wolverine." + +"What! Smarter'n a Fox?" + +"The books say so." + +"Kin he lick a Beaver?" + +"Well, I should say so." + +"Well, that's me." + +"No, you don't. I'm not going around with a fellow that licks me. It +don't fit you as well as 'Woodpecker,' anyhow. I always get _you_ +when I want a nice tree spoiled or pecked into holes," retorted Yan, +magnanimously ignoring the personal reason for the name. + +"Tain t as bad as _beavering_," answered Sam + +"Beavering" was a word with a history. Axes and timber were the +biggest things in the lives of the Sangerites. Skill with the axe was +the highest accomplishment. The old settlers used to make everything +in the house out of wood, and with the axe for the only tool. It was +even said that some of them used to "edge her up a bit" and shave with +her on Sundays. When a father was setting his son up in life he gave +him simply a good axe. The axe was the grand essential of life and +work, and was supposed to be a whole outfit. Skill with the axe was +general. Every man and boy was more or less expert, and did not know +how expert he was till a real "greeny" came among them. There is a +right way to cut for each kind of grain, and a certain proper way of +felling a tree to throw it in any given direction with the minimum of +labour. All these things are second nature to the Sangerite. A Beaver +is credited with a haphazard way of gnawing round and round a tree +till somehow it tumbles, and when a chopper deviates in the least from +the correct form, the exact right cut in the exact right place, he is +said to be "beavering"; therefore, while "working like a Beaver" is +high praise, "beavering" a tree is a term of unmeasured reproach, and +Sam's final gibe had point and force that none but a Sangerite could +possibly have appreciated. + + + + +XI + +Yan and the Witch + + + The Sanger Witch hated the Shanty-man's axe + And wildfire, too, they tell, + But the hate that she had for the Sporting man + Was wuss nor her hate of Hell! + + --Cracked Jimmie's Ballad of Sanger. + + +Yan took his earliest opportunity to revisit the Sanger Witch. + +"Better leave me out," advised Sam, when he heard of it. "She'd never +look at you if I went. You look too blame healthy." + +So Yan went alone, and he was glad of it. Fond as he was of Sam, his +voluble tongue and ready wit left Yan more or less in the shade, made +him look sober and dull, and what was worse, continually turned the +conversation just as it was approaching some subject that was of +deepest interest to him. + +As he was leaving, Sam called out, "Say, Yan, if you want to stay +there to dinner it'll be all right--we'll know why you hain't turned +up." Then he stuck his tongue in his cheek, closed one eye and went to +the barn with his usual expression of inscrutable melancholy. + +Yan carried his note-book--he used it more and more, also his +sketching materials. On the road he gathered a handful of flowers and +herbs. His reception by the old woman was very different this time. + +"Come in, come in, God bless ye, an' hoo air ye, an' how is yer father +an' mother--come in an' set down, an' how is that spalpeen, Sam +Raften?" + +"Sam's all right now," said Yan with a blush. + +"All right! Av coorse he's all right. I knowed I'd fix him all right, +an' he knowed it, an' his Ma knowed it when she let him come. Did she +say onything about it?" + +"No, Granny, not a word." + +"The dhirty hussy! Saved the boy's life in sphite of their robbin' me +an' she ain't human enough to say 'thank ye'--the dhirty hussy! +May God forgive her as I do," said the old woman with evident and +implacable enmity. + +"Fwhat hev ye got thayer? Hivin be praised, they can't kill them all +off. They kin cut down the trees, but the flowers comes ivery year, me +little beauties--me little beauties!" Yan spread them out. She picked +up an Arum and went on. "Now, that's Sorry-plant, only some calls it +Injun Turnip, an' I hear the childer call it Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Don't +ye never put the root o' that near yer tongue. It'll sure burn ye like +fire. First thing whin they gits howld av a greeny the bhise throis to +make him boite that same. Shure he niver does it twicet. The Injuns +b'ile the pizen out o' the root an' ates it; shure it's better'n +starvin'." + +Golden Seal (_Hydrastis canadensis_), the plant she had used for +Sam's knee, was duly recognized and praised, its wonderful golden +root, "the best goold iver came out av the ground," was described with +its impression of the seal of the Wise King. + +"Thim's Mandrakes, an' they're moighty late, an' ye shure got +_thim_ in the woods. Some calls it May Apples, an' more calls it +Kingroot. The Injuns use it fur their bowels, an' it has cured many a +horse of pole evil that I seen meself. + +"An' Blue Cohosh, only I call that Spazzum-root. Thayer ain't nothin' +like it fur spazzums--took like tay; only fur that the Injun women +wouldn't live in all their thrubles, but that's something that don't +consarn ye. Luk now, how the laves is all spread out like wan wid +spazzums. Glory be to the Saints and the Blessed Virgin, everything is +done fur us on airth an' plain marked, if we'd only take the thruble +to luk. + +"Now luk at thot," said she, clawing over the bundle and picking out a +yellow Cypripedium, "that's Moccasin-plant wid the Injuns, but mercy +on 'em fur bloind, miserable haythens. They don't know nothin' an' +don't want to larn it. That's Umbil, or Sterrick-root. It's powerful +good fur sterricks. Luk at it! See the face av a woman in sterricks +wid her hayer flyin' an' her jaw a-droppin'. I moind the toime Larry's +little gurrl didn't want to go to her 'place' an' hed sterricks. They +jest sent fur me an' I brung along a Sterrick-root. First, I sez, sez +I, 'Get me some b'ilin' wather,' an' I made tay an' give it to her +b'ilin' hot. As share as Oi'm a livin' corpse, the very first spoonful +fetched her all right. Oh, but it's God's own gift, an' it's be His +blessin' we know how to use it. An' it don't do to just go an' dig it +when ye want it. It has to be grubbed when the flower ain't thayer. Ye +see, the strength ain't in both places to oncet. It's ayther in the +flower or in the root, so when the flower is thayer the root's no more +good than an ould straw. Ye hes to Hunt fur it in spring or in fall, +just when the divil himself wouldn't know whayer to find it. + +"An' fwhat hev ye thayer? Good land! if it ain't Skunk's Cabbage! Ye +sure come up by the Bend. That's the on'y place whayer that grows." + +"Yes," replied Yan; "that's just where I got it. But hold on, Granny, +I want to sketch all those and note down their names and what you say +about them." + +"Shure, you'd hev a big book when I wuz through," said the old woman +with pride, as she lit her pipe, striking the match on what would have +been the leg of her pants had she been a man. + +"An' shure ye don't need to write down what they're good fur, fur the +good Lord done that Himself long ago. Luk here, now. That's Cohosh, +fur spazzums, an' luks like it; that's Moccasin, fur Highsterricks, +an' luks like it; wall, thar's Skunk-root fur both, an' don't it luk +like the two o' thim thigither?" + +Yan feebly agreed, but had much difficulty in seeing what the plant +had in common with the others. + +"An' luk here! Thayer ye got Lowbelier, that some calls Injun +tobaccer. Ye found this by the crick, an' it's a little airly--ahead +o' toime. That's the shtuff to make ye throw up when ye want to. Luk, +ain't that lafe the livin' shape of a shtummick? + +"Thayer's the Highbelier; it's a high hairb, an' it's moighty foine +fur the bowels when ye drink the dry root. + +"Spicewood" [Spicebush, _Lindera benzoin_], "or Fayverbush, them +twigs is great fur tay--that cures shakes and fayver. Shure an' it +shakes ivery toime the wind blows. + +"That's Clayvers," she said, picking up a Galium. "Now fwhat wud ye +think that wuz fur to cure?" + +"I don't know. What is it?" + +"Luk now, an' see how it's wrote in it plain as prent--yes, an' a +sight plainer, fur I can read them an' I can't read a wurrud in a +book. Now fwhat is that loike?" said she, holding up the double +seed-pod. + +"A brain and spinal column," said Yan. + +"Och, choild, I hev better eyes than ye. Shure them's two kidneys, an' +that's fwhat Clayver tay will cure better'n all the docthers in the +wurruld, an' ye hev to know just how. Ye see, kidney thruble is +a koind o' fayver; it's hatin', so ye make yer Clayver tay in +_cold_ wather; if ye make it o' warrum wather it just makes ye +wuss an' acts loike didly pizen. Thayer's Sweatplant, or Boneset" +[_Eupatorium perfoliatum_], "that's the thing to sweat ye. Wanst +Oi sane a feller jest dyin' o' dry hoide, wuz all hoidebound, an' the +docthers throid an' throid an' couldn't help wan bit, till I guv his +mother some Boneset leaves to make tay, an' he sweat buckets before +he'd more'n smelt av it, an' the docthers thought they done it +theirsilves!" and she cackled gleefully. + +"Thayer's Goldthread fur cankermouth, an' Pipsissewa that cures fayver +an' rheumatiz, too. It always grows where folks gits them disayses. +Luk at the flower just blotched red an' white loike fayver +blotches--an' Spearmint, that saves ye if ya pizen yerself with +Spaszum-root, an' shure it grows right next it in the woods! + +"Thayer's Wormseed fur wurrums--see the 'ittle wurrum on the leaves" +_[Chenopodium]_ "an' that thayer is Pleurisy root, an' thayer! +well, thayer's the foinest hairb that iver God made to grow--that's +Cure all. Some things cures wan thing and some cures another, but when +ye don't know just what to take, ye make tay o' that root an' ye can't +go wrong. It was an Injun larned me that. The poor miserable baste of +a haythen hed some larnin', an' the minit he showed me I knowed it was +so, fur ivery lafe wuz three in wan an' wan in three, an' had the sign +o' the blessed crass in the middle as plain as that biler settin' on +the stove." + +Thus she chattered away, smoking her short pipe, expectorating on the +top of the hot stove, but with true feminine delicacy she was careful +each time to wipe her mouth on the back of her skinny arm. + +"An' that's what's called Catnip; sure Oi moind well the day Oi furst +larned about that. It warn't a Injun nor a docther nor a man at all, +at all, that larned me that. It was that ould black Cat, an' may the +saints stand bechuxt me an' his grane eyes! Bejabers, sometimes he +scares me wid his knowin' ways, but I hev nothin' agin him except that +he kills the wee burruds. He koind o' measled all wan winter an' lay +around the stove. Whiniver the dooer was open he'd go an' luk out an' +then come back an' meow an' wheen an' lay down--an' so he kep' on, +gittin' waker an' worser, till the snow wuz gone an' grass come up, +an' still he'd go a-lukin' toward the ayst, especially nights. Then +thayer come up a plant I had never sane, right thayer, an' he'd luk at +it an' luk at it loike he wanted it but didn't dar to. Thar was some +foine trays out thayer in thim days afore the ould baste cut thim +down, an' wan av thim hed a big limb, so--an' another so--an' when the +moon come up full at jest the right time the shaddy made the sign av +the crass an' loighted on me dooer, an' after it was past it didn't +make no crass. Well, bejabers, the full moon come up at last an' she +made the sign of the shaddy crass, an' the ould Cat goes out an' +watches an' watches loike he wanted to an' didn't dar to, till that +crass drapped fayer onto the hairbs, an' Tom he jumped then an' ate +an' ate, an' from that day he was a well Cat; an' that's how Oi larned +Catnip, an' it set me moind aisy, too, fur no Cat that's possesst 'll +iver ate inunder the shaddy av the crass." + +Yan was scribbling away, but had given up any attempt to make sketches +or even notes beyond the names of the plants. + +"Shure, choild, put them papers wid the names on the hairbs an' save +_them_; that wuz fwhat Docther Carmartin done whin Oi was larnin' +him. Thayer, now, that's it," she added, as Yan took the hint and +began slipping on each stalk a paper label with its name. + +"That's a curious broom," said Yan, as his eye fell on the symbol of +order and cleanliness, making strange reflections on itself. + +"Yes; sure, that's a Baitche broom. Larry makes 'em." + +"Larry?" + +"Yes, me bhoy." [Larry was nearly sixty.] "He makes thim of Blue +Baitche." + +"How?" asked Yan, picking it up and examining it with intense +interest. + +"Whoi, shure, by whittlin'. Larry's a howly terror to whittle, an' +he gets a Blue Baitche sapling 'bout three inches thick an' starts +a-whittlin" long slivers, but laves them on the sthick at wan end till +thayer all round loike that." + +"What, like a fire-lighter?" + +"Yis, yis, that's it, only bigger, an Blue Baitche is terrible tough. +Then whin he has the sthick down to 'bout an inch thick, he ties all +the slivers the wrong way wid a sthrand o' Litherwood, an' thrims down +the han'el to suit, an' evens up the ind av the broom wid the axe an' +lets it dhry out, an' thayer yer is. Better broom was niver made, an' +there niver wus ony other in th' famb'ly till he married that Kitty +Connor, the lowest av the low, an' it's meself was all agin her, wid +her proide an' her dirthy sthuck-up ways' nothin' but boughten things +wuz good enough fur her, _her_ that niver had a dacint male till +she thrapped moi Larry. Yis, low be it sphoken, but 'thrapped' 's the +wurrud," said the old woman, raising her voice to give emphasis that +told a lurid tale. + +At this moment the door opened and in came Biddy, and as she was the +daughter of the unspeakable Kitty the conversation turned. + +"An' sure it's glad to see ye I am, an' when are ye comin' down to +reside at our place?" was her greeting to Yan, and while they talked +Granny took advantage of the chance to take a long pull at a bottle +that looked and smelled like Lung-balm. + +"Moi, Biddy, yer airly," said Granny. + +"Shure, an' now it was late whin I left home, an' the schulmaster says +it's always so walking from ayst to west." + +"An' shure it's glad Oi am to say ye, fur Yan will shtop an ate wid +us. It ain't duck an' grane pase, but, thank God, we hev enough an' a +hearty welcome wid ivery boite. Ye say, Biddy makes me dinner ivery +foine day an' Oi get a boite an' a sup for meself other toimes, an' +slapes be me lone furby me Dog an' Cat an' the apples, which thayer +ain't but a handful left, but fwhat thar is is yourn. Help yerself, +choild, an' ate hearty," and she turned down the gray-looking +bedclothes to show the last half-dozen of the same rosy apples. + +"Aint you afraid to sleep here alone nights, Granny?" + +"Shure fwhat hev Oi to fayre? Thayer niver wuz robbers come but wanst, +an' shure I got theyer last cint aff av them. They come one night an' +broke in, an' settin' up, Oi sez, 'Now fwhat _are_ yez lukin' +fur?' + +"'Money,' sez they, fur thayer was talk all round thin that Oi had +sold me cow fur $25. + +"'Sure, thin, Oi'll get up an' help ye,' sez Oi, fur divil a cint hev +Oi been able to set me eyes on sense apple harvest.'" + +'"We want $25, or we'll kill ye.' + +"'Faith, an' if it wuz twenty-five cints Oi couldn't help it,' sez Oi, +'an' it's ready to die Oi am,' sez Oi, 'fur Oi was confessed last wake +an' Oi'm a-sayin' me prayers _this_ minit.' + +"Sez the littlest wan, an' he wa'n't so little, nigh as br'ad as that +dooer, 'Hevn't ye sold yer cow?' + +"'Ye'll foind her in the barrun,' sez Oi, 'though Oi hate to hev yez +disturb her slapin'. It makes her drame an' that's bad fur the milk.' + +"An' next thing them two robbers wuz laffin' at each other fur fools. +Then the little wan sez: + +"'Now, Granny, we'll lave ye in pace, if ye'll niver say a wurrud o' +this'--but the other wan seemed kind o' sulky. + +"'Sorra a wurrud,' sez Oi, 'an' good frinds we'll be yit,' an' they +wuz makin' fur the dooer to clayer out whin I sez: + +"'Howld on! Me friends can't lave me house an' naither boite nor sup; +turn yer backs an' ye plaze, till Oi get on me skirt.' An' whin Oi wuz +up an' dacint an' tould them they could luk, Oi sez, 'It's the foinest +Lung balm in the land ye shall taste,' an' the littlest feller he +starts a-coughin', oh, a turrible cough--it fair scairt me, like a +hoopin' croup--an' the other seemed just mad, and the littlest wan +made fun av him. Oi seen the mean wan wuz left-handed or let on he +wuz, but when he reached out fur the bottle he had on'y three fingers +on his right, an' they both av them had the biggest, blackest, +awfulest lukin' bairds--I'd know them two bairds agin ony place--an' +the littlest had a rag round his head, said he had a toothache, but +shure yer teeth don't ache in the roots o' yer haiyer. Then when they +wuz goin' the littlest wan put a dollar in me hand an' sez, 'It's all +we got bechuxst us, Granny.' 'Godbless ye,' sez Oi, 'an' Oi take it +kindly. It's the first Oi seen sense apple harvest, an' it's a friend +ye hev in me whin ye nade wan,'" and the old woman chuckled over her +victory. + +"Granny, do you know what the Indians use for dyeing colours?" asked +Yan, harking back to his main purpose. + +"Shure, Yahn, they jest goes to the store an' gets boughten dyes in +packages like we do." + +"But before there were boughten dyes, didn't they use things in the +woods?" + +"That they did, for shure. Iverything man iver naded the good Lord +made grow fur him in the woods." + +"Yes, but what plants?" + +"Faix, an' they differ fur different things." + +"Yes, but what are they?" Then seeing how general questions failed, he +went at it in detail. + +"What do they use for yellow dye on the Porcupine quills--I mean +before the boughten dyes came?" + +"Well, shure an' that's a purty yellow flower that grows in the fall +out in the field an' along the fences. The Yaller Weed, I call it, +an' some calls it Goldenrod. They bile the quills in wather with the +flower. Luk! Thar's some wool dyed that way." + +"An' the red?" said Yan, scribbling away. + +"Faix, an' they had no rale good red. They made a koind o' red o' +berry juice b'iled, an' wanst I seen a turrible nice red an ol' squaw +made b'ilin' the quills fust in yaller awhile an' next awhile in red." + +"What berries make the best red, Granny?" + +"Well, 'tain't the red wans, as ye moight think. Ye kin make it of +Rosberries or Sumac or Huckleberries an' lots more, but Black Currants +is redder than Red Currants, an' Squaw berries is best av them all." + +"What are they like?" + +"Shure, an' Oi'll show ye that same hairb," and they wandered around +outside the shanty in vain search. "It's too airly," said Granny, "but +it's round thayer in heaps in August an' is the purtiest red iver +grew. 'An Pokeweed, too, it ain't har'ly flowerin' yit, but in the +fall it hez berries that's so red they're nigh black, an' dyes the +purtiest kind o' a purple." + +"What makes blue?" + +"Oi niver sane none in the quills. Thayer may be some. The good Lord +made iverything grow in the woods, but I ain't found it an' niver seen +none. Ye kin make a grane av the young shoots av Elder, but it ain't +purty like that," and she pointed to a frightful emerald ribbon that +Biddy wore, "an' a brown of Butternut bark, an' a black av White Oak +chips an' bark. Ye kin make a kind o' grane av two dips, wan of yaller +an wan av black. Ye kin dye black wid Hickory bark, an' orange (bad +scran to it) wid the inner bark of Birch, an' yaller wid the roots +av Hoop Ash, an' a foine scarlet from the bark av the little root av +Dogwood, but there ain't no rale blue in the woods, an' that's what I +tell them orange-an'-blue Prattisons on the 12th o' July, fur what the +Lord didn't make the divil did. + +"Ye kin make a koind of blue out o' the Indigo hairb, but 'tain't like +this," pointing to some screaming cobalt, "an' if it ain't in the +woods the good Lord niver meant us to have it. Yis! I tell ye it's +the divil's own colour, that blue-orange an' blue is the divil's own +colours, shure enough, fur brimstone's yaller; an' its blue whin it's +burnin', that I hed from his riv'rince himself--bless him!" + + + + +XII. + +Dinner with the Witch + + +Biddy meanwhile had waddled around the room slapping the boards with +her broad bare feet as she prepared their dinner. She was evidently +trying to put on style, for she turned out her toes excessively. +She spoke several times about "the toime when she resoided with yer +mamma," then at length, "Whayer's the tablecloth, Granny?" + +"Now, wud ye listen to thot, an' she knowin' that divil a clath hev we +in the wurruld, an' glad enough to hev vittles on the table, let +alone a clath," said Granny, oblivious of the wreck she was making of +Biddy's pride. + +"Will ye hay tay or coffee, Yahn?" said Biddy. + +"Tea," was Yan's choice. + +"Faix, an' Oi'm glad ye said tay, fur Oi ain' seen a pick o' coffee +sense Christmas, an' the tay Oi kin git in the woods, but thayer is +somethin' Oi kin set afore ye that don't grow in the woods," and the +old woman hobbled to a corner shelf, lifted down an old cigar box and +from among matches, tobacco, feathers, tacks, pins, thread and dust +she picked six lumps of cube sugar, formerly white. + +"Thayer, shure, an' Oi wuz kapin' this fur whin his riv'rence comes; +wanst a year he's here, God bless him! but that's fower wakes ahid, +an' dear knows fwhat may happen afore thin. Here, an' a hearty +welcome," said she, dropping three of the lumps in Yan's tea. "We'll +kape the rest fur yer second cup. Hev some crame?" and she pushed over +a sticky-handled shaving-mug full of excellent cream. "Biddy, give +Yahn some bread." + +The loaf, evidently the only one, was cut up and two or three slices +forced into Yan's plate. + +"Mebbe the butther is a little hoigh," exclaimed the hostess, noting +that Yan was sparing of it. "Howld on." She went again to the corner +shelf and got down an old glass jar with scalloped edge and a flat tin +cover. It evidently contained jam. She lifted the cover and exclaimed: + +"Well, Oi niver!" Then going to the door she fished out with her +fingers a dead mouse and threw it out, remarking placidly, "Oi've +wondered whayer the little divil wuz. Oi ain't sane him this two +wakes, an' me a-thinkin' it wuz Tom ate him. May Oi be furgiven the +onjustice av it. Consarn them flies! That cover niver did fit." And +again her finger was employed, this time to scrape off an incrustation +of unhappy flies that had died, like Clarence, in their favourite +beverage. + +"Thayer, Yan, now ate hearty, all av it, an' welcome. It does me good +to see ye ate--thayer's lots more whayer that come from," though it +was obvious that she had put her all upon the table. + +Poor Yan was in trouble. He felt instinctively that the good old soul +was wrecking her week's resources in this lavish hospitality, but he +also felt that she would be deeply hurt if he did not appear to enjoy +everything. The one possibly clean thing was the bread. He devoted +himself to that; it was of poorest quality; one or two hairs looping +in his teeth had been discouraging, but when he bit at a piece of +linen rag with a button on it he was fairly upset. He managed to hide +the rag, but could not conceal his sudden loss of appetite. + +"Hev some more av this an' this," and in spite of himself his +plate was piled up with things for him to eat, including a lot of +beautifully boiled potatoes, but unfortunately the hostess carried +them from the pot on the stove in a corner of her ancient and somber +apron, and served him with her skinny paw. + +Yan's appetite was wholly gone now, to the grief of his kind +entertainer, "Shure an' she'd fix him up something to stringthen him," +and Yan had hard work to beg off. + +"Would ye like an aig," ventured Biddy. + +"Why, yes! oh, yes, please," exclaimed Yan, with almost too much +enthusiasm. He thought, "Well, hens are pure-minded creatures, anyway. +An egg's sure to be clean." + +Biddy waddled away to the 'barrun' and soon reappeared with three +eggs. + +"B'iled or fried?" + +"Boiled," said Yan, aiming to keep to the safe side. + +Biddy looked around for a pot. + +"Shure, _that's_ b'ilin' now," said Granny, pointing to the great +mass of her undergarments seething in the boiler, and accordingly the +eggs were dropped in there. + +Yan fervently prayed that they might not break. As it was, two did +crack open, but he got the other one, and that was virtually his +dinner. + +A Purple Blackbird came hopping in the door now. + +"Will, now, thayer's Jack. Whayer hev ye been? I thought ye wuz gone +fur good. Shure Oi saved him from a murtherin' gunner," she explained. +"(Bad scran to the baste! I belave he was an Or'ngeman.) But he's all +right now an' comes an' goes like he owned the place. Now, Jack, you +git out av that wather pail," as the beautiful bird leaped into the +half-filled drinking bucket and began to take a bath. + +"Now luk at that," she shouted, "ye little rascal, come out o' that +oven," for now the Blackbird had taken advantage of the open door to +scramble into the dark warm oven. + +"Thayer he goes to warrum his futs. Oh, ye little rascal! Next thing +ye know some one'll slam the dooer, not knowin' a thing, and fire up, +an' it's roastin' aloive ye'll be. Shure an' it's tempted Oi am to +wring yer purty neck to save yer loife," and she drove him out with +the harshest of words and the gentlest of hands. + +Then Yan, with his arms full of labelled plants, set out for home. + +"Good-boi, choild, come back agin and say me soon. Bring some more +hairbs. Good-boi, an' bless ye. Oi hope it's no sin to say so, fur Oi +know yer a Prattison an' ye are all on yez goin' to hell, but yer a +foine bhoy. Oi'm tumble sorry yer a Prattison." + +When Yan got back to the Raftens' he found the dinner table set for +one, though it was now three in the afternoon. + +"Come and get your dinner," said Mrs. Raften in her quiet motherly +way. "I'll put on the steak. It will be ready in five minutes." + +"But I've had my dinner with Granny de Neuville." + +"Yes, I know!" + +"Did she stir yer tea with one front claw an' put jam on yer bread +with the other?" asked Raften, rather coarsely. + +"Did she b'ile her pet Blackbird fur yer soup?" said Sam. + +Yan turned very red. Evidently all had a good idea of what he had +experienced, but it jarred on him to hear their mockery of the good +old soul. + +He replied warmly, "She was just as kind and nice as she could be." + +"You had better have a steak now," said Mrs. Raften, in solicitous +doubt. + +How tempting was the thought of that juicy brown steak! How his empty +stomach did crave it! But the continued mockery had stirred him. He +would stand up for the warm-hearted old woman who had ungrudgingly +given him the best she had--had given her all--to make a hearty +welcome for a stranger. They should never know how gladly he would +have eaten now, and in loyalty to his recent hostess he added the +first lie of his life: + +"No, thank you very much, but really I am not in the least hungry. I +had a fine dinner at Granny de Neuville's." + +Then, defying the inner pangs of emptiness, he went about his evening +chores. + + + + +XIII + +The Hostile Spy + + +"Wonder where Caleb got that big piece of Birch bark," said Yan; "I'd +like some for dishes." + +"Guess I know. He was over to Burns's bush. There's none in ours. We +kin git some." + +"Will you ask him?" + +"Naw, who cares for an old Birch tree. We'll go an' borrow it when he +ain't lookin'." + +Yan hesitated. + +Sam took the axe. "We'll call this a war party into the enemy's +country. There's sure 'nuff war that-a-way. He's one of Da's +'_friends.'_" + +Yan followed, in doubt still as to the strict honesty of the +proceeding. + +Over the line they soon found a good-sized canoe Birch, and were busy +whacking away to get off a long roll, when a tall man and a small boy, +apparently attracted by the chopping, came in sight and made toward +them. Sam called under his breath: "It's old Burns. Let's git." + +There was no time to save anything but themselves and the axe. They +ran for the boundary fence, while Burns contented himself with +shouting out threats and denunciations. Not that he cared a straw for +the Birch tree--timber had no value in that country--but unfortunately +Raften had quarrelled with all his immediate neighbours, therefore +Burns did his best to make a fearful crime of the petty depredation. + +His valiant son, a somewhat smaller boy than either Yan or Sam, came +near enough to the boundary to hurl opprobrious epithets. + +"Red-head--red-head! You red-headed thief! Hol' on till my paw gits +hol' o' you--Raften, the Baften, the rick-strick Straften," and others +equally galling and even more exquisitely refined. + +"War party escaped and saved their scalps," and Sam placidly laid the +axe in its usual place. + +"Nothing lost but honour," added Yan. "Who's the kid?" + +"Oh, that's Guy Burns. I know him. He's a mean little cuss, always +sneaking and peeking. Lies like sixty. Got the prize--a big +scrubbing-brush--for being the dirtiest boy in school. We all voted, +and the teacher gave it to him." + +Next day the boys made another war party for Birch bark, but had +hardly begun operations when there was an uproar not far away, and a +voice, evidently of a small boy, mouthing it largely, trying to pass +itself off as a man's voice: "Hi, yer the ---- ----. Yer git off my +---- ---- place ---- ----" + +"Le's capture the little cuss, Yan." + +"An' burn him at the stake with horrid torture," was the rejoinder. + +They set out in his direction, but again the appearance of Burns +changed their war-party onslaught into a rapid retreat. + +(More opprobrium.) + +During the days that followed the boys were often close to the +boundary, but it happened that Burns was working near and Guy had the +quickest of eyes and ears. The little rat seemed ever on the alert. He +soon showed by his long-distance remarks that he knew all about the +boys' pursuits--had doubtless visited the camp in their absence. +Several times they saw him watching them with intense interest when +they were practising with bow and arrow, but he always retreated to a +safe distance when discovered, and then enjoyed himself breathing out +fire and slaughter. + +One day the boys came to the camp at an unusual hour. On going into a +near thicket Yan saw a bare foot under some foliage. "Hallo, what's +this?" He stooped down and found a leg to it and at the end of that +Guy Burns. + +Up Guy jumped, yelling "Paw--Paw--PAW!" He ran for his life, the +Indians uttering blood-curdlers on his track. But Yan was a runner, +and Guy's podgy legs, even winged by fear, had no chance. He was +seized and dragged howling back to the camp. + +"You let me alone, you Sam Raften--now you let me alone!" There was, +however, a striking lack of opprobrium in his remarks now. (Such +delicacy is highly commendable in the very young.) + +"First thing is to secure the prisoner, Yan." + +Sam produced a cord. + +"Pooh," said Yan. "You've got no style about you. Bring me some +Leatherwood." + +This was at hand, and in spite of howls and scuffles, Guy was solemnly +tied to a tree--a green one--because, as Yan pointed out, that would +resist the fire better. + +The two Warriors now squatted cross-legged by the fire. The older one +lighted a peace-pipe, and they proceeded to discuss the fate of the +unhappy captive. + +"Brother," said Yan, with stately gestures, "it is very pleasant to +hear the howls of this miserable paleface." (It was really getting to +be more than they could endure.) + +"Ugh--heap good," said the Woodpecker. + +"Ye better let me alone. My Paw'll fix you for this, you dirty +cowards," wailed the prisoner, fast losing control of his tongue. + +"Ugh! Take um scalp first, burn him after," and Little Beaver made +some expressive signs. + +"Wah--bully--me heap wicked," rejoined the Woodpecker, expectorating +on a stone and beginning to whet his jack-knife. + +The keen and suggestive "_weet, weet, weet_" of the knife on the +stone smote on Guy's ears and nerves with appalling effect. + +"Brother Woodpecker, the spirit of our tribe calls out for the blood +of the victim--all of it." + +"Great Chief Woodpecker, you mean," said Sam, aside. "If you don't +call me Chief, I won't call you Chief, that's all." + +The Great Woodpecker and Little Beaver now entered the teepee, +repainted each other's faces, adjusted their head-dresses and stepped +out to the execution. + +The Woodpecker re-whetted his knife. It did not need it, but he liked +the sound. + +Little Beaver now carried a lot of light firewood and arranged it in +front of the prisoner, but Guy's legs were free and he gave it a kick +which sent it all flying. The two War-chiefs leaped aside. "Ugh! Heap +sassy," said the ferocious Woodpecker. "Tie him legs, oh, Brother +Great Chief Little Beaver!" + +A new bark strip tied his legs securely to the tree. Then Chief +Woodpecker approached with his knife and said: + +"Great Brother Chief Little Beaver, if we scalp him there is only one +scalp, and _you_ will have nothing to show, except you're content +with the wishbone." + +Here was a difficulty, artificial yet real, but Yan suggested: + +"Great Brother Chief +Red-headed-Woodpecker-Settin'-on-a-Stump-with-his-Tail-Waggling-over-the +Edge, no scalp him; skin his hull head, then each take half skin." + +"Wah! Very good, oh Brother Big-Injun-Chief Great-Little-Beaver- +Chaw-a-Tree-Down." + +Then the Woodpecker got a piece of charcoal and proceeded in horrid +gravity to mark out on the tow hair of the prisoner just what he +considered a fair division. Little Beaver objected that he was +entitled to an ear and half of the crown, which is the essential part +of the scalp. The Woodpecker pointed out that fortunately the prisoner +had a cow-lick that was practically a second crown. This ought to do +perfectly well for the younger Chief's share. The charcoal lines were +dusted off for a try-over. Both Chiefs got charcoal now and a new +sketch plan was made on Guy's tow top and corrected till it was +accepted by both. + +[Illustration: "Ugh! Heap sassy!"] + +The victim had really never lost heart till now. His flow of threats +and epithets had been continuous and somewhat tedious. He had +threatened to tell his "paw" and "the teacher," and all the world, but +finally he threatened to tell Mr. Raften. This was the nearest to a +home thrust of any yet, and in some uneasiness the Woodpecker turned +to Little Beaver and said: + +"Brother Chief, do you comprehend the language of the blithering +Paleface? What does he say?" + +"Ugh, I know not," was the reply. "Maybe he now singeth a death song +in his own tongue." + +Guy was not without pluck. He had kept up heart so far believing that +the boys were "foolin'," but when he felt the awful charcoal line +drawn to divide his scalp satisfactorily between these two inhuman, +painted monsters, and when with a final "_weet, weet, weet_" +of the knife on the stone the implacable Woodpecker approached and +grabbed his tow locks in one hand, then he broke down and wept +bitterly. + +"Oh, please don't----Oh, Paw! Oh, Maw! Let me go this time an' I'll +never do it again." What he would not do was not specified, but the +evidence of surrender was complete. + +"Hold on, Great Brother Chief," said Little Beaver. "It is the custom +of the tribes to release or even to adopt such prisoners as have shown +notable fortitude." + +"Showed fortitude enough for six if it's the same thing as yellin'," +said the Woodpecker, dropping into his own vernacular. + +"Let us cut his bonds so that he may escape to his own people." + +"Thar'd be more style to it if we left him thar overnight an' found +next mornin' he had escaped somehow by himself," said the older Chief. +The victim noted the improvement in his situation and now promised +amid sobs to get them all the Birch bark they wanted--to do anything, +if they would let him go. He would even steal for them the choicest +products of his father's orchard. + +Little Beaver drew his knife and cut bond after bond. + +Woodpecker got his bow and arrow, remarking "Ugh, heap fun shoot him +runnin'." + +The last bark strip was cut. Guy needed no urging. He ran for the +boundary fence in silence till he got over; then finding himself safe +and unpursued, he rilled the air with threats and execrations. No part +of his statement would do to print here. + +After such a harrowing experience most boys would have avoided that +swamp, but Guy knew Sam at school as a good-natured fellow. He began +to think he had been unduly scared. He was impelled by several +motives, a burning curiosity being, perhaps the most important. The +result was that one day when the boys came to camp they saw Guy +sneaking off. It was fun to capture him and drag him back. He was very +sullen, and not so noisy as the other time, evidently less scared. +The Chiefs talked of fire and torture and of ducking him in the pond +without getting much response. Then they began to cross-examine the +prisoner. He gave no answer. Why did he come to the camp? What was he +doing--stealing? etc. He only looked sullen. + +"Let's blindfold him and drive a Gyascutus down his back," said Yan in +a hollow voice. + +"Good idee," agreed Sam, not knowing any more than the prisoner what a +Gyascutus was. Then he added, "just as well be merciful. It'll put him +out o' pain." + +It is the unknown that terrifies. The prisoner's soul was touched +again. His mouth was trembling at the corners. He was breaking down +when Yan followed it up: "Then why don't you tell us what you are +doing here?" + +He blubbered out, "I want to play Injun, too." + +The boys broke down in another way. They had not had time to paint +their faces, so that their expressions were very clear on this +occasion. + +Then Little Beaver arose and addressed the Council. + +"Great Chiefs of the Sanger Nation: The last time we tortured and +burned to death this prisoner, he created quite an impression. Never +before has one of our prisoners shown so many different kinds of +gifts. I vote to receive him into the Tribe." + +The Woodpecker now arose and spoke: + +"O wisest Chief but one in this Tribe, that's all right enough, but +you know that no warrior can join us without first showing that he's +good stuff and clear grit, all wool, and a cut above the average +somehow. It hain't never been so. Now he's got to lick some Warrior of +the Tribe. Kin you do that?" + +"Nope." + +"Or outrun one or outshoot him or something--or give us all a present. +What kin you do?" + +"I kin steal watermillyons, an' I kin see farder 'n any boy in school, +an' I kin sneak to beat all creation. I watched you fellers lots of +times from them bushes. I watched you buildin' that thar dam. _I +swum in it 'fore you did_, an' I uster set an' smoke in your teepee +when you wasn't thar, an' I heerd you talk the time you was fixin' up +to steal our Birch bark." + +"Don't seem to me like it all proves much _fortitude_. Have you +got any presents for the oldest head Chief of the tribe?" + +"I'll get you all the Birch bark you want. I can't git what you cut, +coz me an' Paw burned that so you couldn't git it, but I'll git you +lots more, an' maybe--I'll steal you a chicken once in awhile." + +"His intentions are evidently honourable Let's take him in on +sufferance," said Yan. + +"All right," replied the head Chief, "he kin come in, but that don't +spile my claim to that left half of his scalp down to that tuft of +yellow moss on the scruff of his neck where the collar has wore off +the dirt. I'm liable to call for it any time, an' the ear goes with +it." + +Guy wanted to treat this as a joke, but Sam's glittering eyes and +inscrutable face were centered hungrily on that "yaller tuft" in a way +that gave him the "creeps" again. + +"Say, Yan--I mean Great Little Beaver--you know all about it, what +kind o' stunts did they have to do to get into an Injun tribe, +anyhow?" + +"Different tribes do different ways, but the Sun Dance and the Fire +Test are the most respectable and both _terribly hard_." + +"Well, what did _you_ do?" queried the Great Woodpecker. + +"Both," said Yan grinning, as he remembered his sunburnt arms and +shoulders. + +"Quite sure?" said the older Chief in a tone of doubt. + +"Yes, sir; and I bore it so well that every one there agreed that +I was the best one in the Tribe," said Little Beaver, omitting to +mention the fact that he was the only one in it. "I was unanimously +named 'Howling Sunrise.'" + +"Well, I want to be 'Howling Sunrise,'" piped Guy in his shrill voice. + +"You? You don't know whether you can pass at all, you Yaller +Mossback." + +"Come, Mossy, which will you do?" + +Guy's choice was to be sunburnt to the waist. He was burnt and +freckled already to the shoulders, on arms as well as on neck, and his +miserable cotton shirt so barely turned the sun's rays that he was +elsewhere of a deep yellow tinge with an occasional constellation of +freckles. Accordingly he danced about camp all one day with nothing on +but his pants, and, of course, being so seasoned, he did not burn. + +As the sun swung low the Chiefs assembled in Council. + +The head Chief looked over the new Warrior, shook his head gravely and +said emphatically: "Too green to burn. Your name is Sapwood." + +Protest was in vain. "Sappy," he was and had to be until he won a +better name. The peace pipe was smoked all round and he was proclaimed +third War Chief of the Sanger Indians (the word _War_ inserted by +special request). + +He was quite the most harmless member of the band and therefore took +unusual pleasure in posing as the possessor of a perennial thirst for +human heart-blood. War-paint was his delight, and with its aid he was +singularly successful in correcting his round and smiling face into +a savage visage of revolting ferocity. Paint was his hobby and his +pride, but alas! how often it happens one's deepest sorrow is in the +midst of one's greatest joy--the deepest lake is the old crater on top +of the highest mountain. Sappy's eyes were _not_ the sinister +black beads of the wily Red-man, but a washed-out blue. His ragged, +tow-coloured locks he could hide under wisps of horsehair, the paint +itself redeemed his freckled skin, but there was no remedy for the +white eyelashes and the pale, piggy, blue eyes. He kept his sorrow to +himself, however, for he knew that if the others got an inkling of his +feelings on the subject his name would have been promptly changed +to "Dolly" or "Birdy," or some other equally horrible and un-Indian +appellation. + + + + +XIV + +The Quarrel + + +"Say, Yan, I saw a Blood-Robin this morning." + +"That's a new one," said Yan, in a tone of doubt. + +"Well, it's the purtiest bird in the country." + +"What? A Humming-bird?" + +"Na-aw-w-w. They ain't purty, only small." + +"Well, that shows what you know," retorted Yan, "'for these exquisite +winged gems are at once the most diminutive and brilliantly coloured +of the whole feathered race.'" This phrase Yan had read some where and +his overapt memory had seized on it. + +"Pshaw!" said Sam. "Sounds like a book, but I'll bet I seen hundreds +of Hummin'-birds round the Trumpet-vine and Bee-balm in the garden, +an' they weren't a millionth part as purty as this. Why, it's just as +red as blood, shines like fire and has black wings. The old Witch says +the Indians call it a War-bird 'cause when it flew along the trail +there was sure going to be war, which is like enough, fur they wuz at +it all the hull time." + +"Oh, I know," said Yan. "A Scarlet Tanager. Where did you see it?" + +"Why, it came from the trees, then alighted on the highest pole of the +teepee." + +"Hope there isn't going to be any war there, Sam. I wish I had one to +stuff." + +"Tried to get him for you, sonny, spite of the Rules. Could 'a' done +it, too, with a gun. Had a shy at him with an arrow an' I hain't been +bird or arrow since. 'Twas my best arrow, too--old Sure-Death." + +"Will ye give me the arrow if I kin find it?" said Guy. + +"Now you bet I won't. What good'd that be to me?" + +"Will you give me your chewin' gum?" + +"No." + +"Will you lend it to me?" + +"Yep." + +"Well, there's your old arrow," said Guy, pulling it from between the +logs where it had fallen. "I seen it go there an' reckoned I'd lay low +an' watch the progress of events, as Yan says," and Guy whinnied. + +Early in the morning the Indians in war-paint went off on a prowl. +They carried their bows and arrows, of course, and were fully alert, +studying the trail at intervals and listening for "signs of the +enemy." + +Their moccasined feet gave forth no sound, and their keen eyes took in +every leaf that stirred as their sinewy forms glided among the huge +trunks of the primeval vegetation--at least, Yan's note-book said they +did. They certainly went with very little noise, but they disturbed a +small Hawk that flew from a Balsam-fir--a "Fire tree" they now called +it, since they had discovered the wonderful properties of the wood. + +Three arrows were shot after it and no harm done. Yan then looked into +the tree and exclaimed: + +"A nest." + +"Looks to me like a fuzz-ball," said Guy. + +"Guess not," replied Yan. "Didn't we scare the Hawk off?" + +He was a good climber, quite the best of the three, and dropping his +head-dress, coat, leggings and weapon, she shinned up the Balsam +trunk, utterly regardless of the gum which hung in crystalline drops +or easily burst bark-bladders on every part. + +He was no sooner out of sight in the lower branches than Satan entered +into Guy's small heart and prompted him thus: + +"Le's play a joke on him an' clear out." + +Sam's sense of humour beguiled him. They stuffed Yan's coat and +pants with leaves and rubbish, put them properly together with the +head-dress, then stuck one of his own arrows through the breast of the +coat into the ground and ran away. + +Meanwhile Yan reached the top of the tree and found that the nest was +only one of the fuzz-balls so common on Fir trees. He called out to +his comrades but got no reply, so came down. At first the ridiculous +dummy seemed funny, then he found that his coat had been injured and +the arrow broken. He called for his companions, but got no answer; +again and again, without reply. He went to where they all had intended +going, but if they were there they hid from him, and feeling himself +scurvily deserted he went back to camp in no very pleasant humour. +They were not there. He sat by the fire awhile, then, yielding to his +habit of industry, he took off his coat and began to work at the dam. + +He became engrossed in his work and did not notice the return of the +runaways till he heard a voice saying "What's this?" + +On turning he saw Sam poring over his private note-book and then +beginning to read aloud: + + "Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird + Thou art----" + +But Yan snatched it out of his hands. + +"I'll bet the rest was something about 'Singbird,'" said Sam. + +Yan's face was burning with shame and anger. He had a poetic streak, +and was morbidly sensitive about any one seeing its product. The +Kingbird episode of their long evening walk was but one of many +similar. He had learned to delight in these daring attacks of the +intrepid little bird on the Hawks and Crows, and so magnified them +into high heroics until he must try to record them in rhyme. It was +very serious to him, and to have his sentiments afford sport to +the others was more than he could bear. Of course Guy came out and +grinned, taking his cue from Sam. Then he remarked in colourless +tones, as though announcing an item of general news, "They say there +was a fearless-crested Injun shot in the woods to-day." + +The morning's desertion left Yan in no mood for chaffing. He rightly +attributed the discourtesy to Guy. Turning savagely toward him he +said, meaningly: + +"Now, no more of your sass, you dirty little sneak." + +"I ain't talkin' to you," Guy snickered, and followed Sam into the +teepee. There were low voices within for a time. Yan went over toward +the dam and began to plug mud into some possible holes. Presently +there was more snickering in the teepee, then Guy came out alone, +struck a theatrical attitude and began to recite to a tree above Yan's +head: + + "Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird, + Thou art but a blooming sing bird--" + +But the mud was very handy and Yan hurled a mass that spattered Guy +thoroughly and sent him giggling into the teepee. + +"Them's the bow-kays," Sam was heard to say. "Go out an' git some +more; dead sure you deserve 'em. Let _me_ know when the calls for +'author' begin?" Then there was more giggling. Yan was fast losing all +control of himself. He seized a big stick and strode into the teepee, +but Sam lifted the cover of the far side and slipped out. Guy tried to +do the same, but Yan caught him. + +"Here, I ain't doin' nothin'." + +The answer was a sounding whack which made him wriggle. + +"You let me alone, you big coward. I ain't doin' nothin' to you. You +better let me alone. Sam! S-A-M! S-A-A-A-M!!!" as the stick came down +again and again. + +"Don't bother me," shouted Sam outside. "I'm writin' poethry--terrible +partic'lar job, poethry. He only means it in kindness, anyhow." + +Guy was screaming now and weeping copiously. + +"You'll get some more if you give me any more of your lip," said Yan, +and stepped out to meet Sam with the note-book again, apparently +scribbling away. As soon as he saw Yan he stood up, cleared his throat +and began: + + "Kingbird, fearless crested--" + +But he did not finish it. Yan struck him a savage blow on the mouth. +Sam sprang back a few steps. Yan seized a large stone. + +"Don't you throw that at me," said Sam seriously. Yan sent it with his +deadliest force and aim. Sam dodged it and then in self-defense ran at +Yan and they grappled and fought, while Guy, eager for revenge, rushed +to help Sam, and got in a few trifling blows. + +Sam was heavier and stronger than Yan, but Yan had gained wonderfully +since coming to Sanger. He was thin, but wiry, and at school he had +learned the familiar hip-throw that is as old as Cain and Abel. It was +all he did know of wrestling, but now it stood him in good stead. He +was strong with rage, too--and almost as soon as they grappled he +found his chance. Sam's heels flew up and he went sprawling in the +dust. One straight blow on the nose sent Guy off howling, and seeing +Sam once more on his feet, Yan rushed at him again like a wild beast. +A moment later the big boy went tumbling over the bank into the pond. + +"_You_ see if I don't get you sent about your business from +here," spluttered Sam, now thoroughly angry. "I'll tell Da you hender +the wurruk." His eyes were full of water and Guy's were full of stars +and of tears. Neither saw the fourth party near; but Yan did. There, +not twenty yards away, stood William Raften, spectator of the whole +affair--an expression not of anger but of infinite sorrow and +disappointment on his face--not because they had quarrelled--no--he +knew boy nature well enough not to give that a thought--but that +_his_ son, older and stronger than the other and backed by +another boy, should be licked in fair fight by a thin, half-invalid. + +It was as bitter a pill as he had ever had to swallow. He turned in +silence and disappeared, and never afterward alluded to the matter. + + +[Illustration: "There stood Raften, spectator of the whole affair."] + + + + +XV + +The Peace of Minnie + + +That night the two avoided each other. Yan ate but little, and to Mrs. +Raften's kindly solicitous questions he said he was not feeling well. + +After supper they were sitting around the table, the men sleepily +silent, Yan and Sam moodily so. Yan had it all laid out in his mind +now. Sam would make a one-sided report of the affair; Guy would +sustain him. Raften himself was witness of Yan's violence. + +The merry days at Sanger were over. He was doomed, and felt like a +condemned felon awaiting the carrying out of the sentence. There was +only one lively member of the group. That was little Minnie. She was +barely three, but a great chatterbox. Like all children, she dearly +loved a "secret," and one of her favourite tricks was to beckon to +some one, laying her pinky finger on her pinker lips, and then when +they stooped she would whisper in their ear, "Don't tell." That was +all. It was her Idea of a "seek-it." + +She was playing at her brother's knee. He picked her up and they +whispered to each other, then she scrambled down and went to Yan. He +lifted her with a tenderness that was born of the thought that she +alone loved him now. She beckoned his head down, put her chubby arms +around his neck and whispered, "_Don't tell_," then slid down, +holding her dear innocent little finger warningly before her mouth. + +What did it mean? Had Sam told her to do that, or was it a mere +repetition of her old trick? No matter, it brought a rush of warm +feeling into Yan's heart. He coaxed the little cherub back and +whispered, "No, Minnie, I'll never tell." He began to see how crazy he +had been. Sam was such a good fellow, he was very fond of him, and he +wanted to make up; but no--with Sam holding threats of banishment over +him, he could not ask for forgiveness. No, he would do nothing but +wait and see. + +He met Mr. Raften again and again that evening and nothing was said. +He slept little that night and was up early. He met Mr. Raften +alone--rather tried to meet him alone. He wanted to have it over with. +He was one of the kind not prayed for in the Litany that crave "sudden +death." But Raften was unchanged. At breakfast Sam was as usual, +except to Yan, and not very different to him. He had a swelling on his +lip that he said he got "tusslin' with the boys somehow or nuther." + +After breakfast Raften said: + +"Yahn, I want you to come with me to the schoolhouse." + +"It's come at last," thought Yan, for the schoolhouse was on the road +to the railroad station. But why did not Raften say "the station"? +He was not a man to mince words. Nothing was said about his handbag +either, and there was no room for it in the buggy anyway. + +Raften drove in silence. There was nothing unusual in that. At length +he said: + +"Yahn, what's yer father goin' to make of ye?" + +"An artist," said Yan, wondering what this had to do with his +dismissal. + +"Does an artist hev to be bang-up eddicated?" + +"They're all the better for it." + +"Av coorse, av coorse, that's what I tell Sam. It's eddication that +counts. Does artists make much money?" + +"Yes, some of them. The successful ones sometimes make millions." + +"Millions? I guess not. Ain't you stretchin' it just a leetle?" + +"No, sir. Turner made a million. Titian lived in a palace, and so did +Raphael." + +"Hm. Don't know 'em, but maybe so--maybe so. It's wonderful what +eddication does--that's what I tell Sam." + +They now drew near the schoolhouse. It was holiday time, but the door +was open and on the steps were two graybearded men. They nodded to +Raften. These men were the school trustees. One of them was Char-less +Boyle; the other was old Moore, poor as a church mouse, but a genial +soul, and really put on the Board as a lubricant between Boyle and +Raften. Boyle was much the more popular. But Raften was always made +trustee, for the people knew that he would take extremely good care of +funds and school as well as of scholars. + +This was a special meeting called to arrange for a new schoolhouse. +Raften got out a lot of papers, including letters from the Department +of Education. The School District had to find half the money; the +Department would supply the other half if all conditions were complied +with. Chief of these, the schoolhouse had to have a given number of +cubic feet of air for each pupil. This was very important, but how +were they to know in advance if they had the minimum and were not +greatly over. It would not do to ask the Department that. They could +not consult the teacher, for he was away now and probably would cheat +them with more air than was needed. It was Raften who brilliantly +solved this frightful mathematical problem and discovered a doughty +champion in the thin, bright-eyed child. + +"Yahn," he said, offering him a two-foot rule, "can ye tell me how +many foot of air is in this room for every scholar when the seats is +full?" + +"You mean cubic feet?" + +"Le's see," and Raften and Moore, after stabbing at the plans with +huge forefingers and fumbling cumberously at the much-pawed documents, +said together: "Yes, it says cubic feet." Yan quickly measured the +length of the room and took the height with the map-lifter. The three +graybeards gazed with awe and admiration as they saw how _sure_ +he seemed. He then counted the seats and said, "Do you count the +teacher?" The men discussed this point, then decided, "Maybe ye +better; he uses more wind than any of them. Ha, ha!" + +Yan made a few figures on paper, then said, "Twenty feet, rather +better." + +"Luk at thot," said Raften in a voice of bullying and triumph; "jest +agrees with the Gover'ment Inspector. I _towld_ ye he could. Now +let's put the new buildin' to test." + +More papers were pawed over. + +"Yahn, how's this--double as many children, one teacher an' the +buildin' so an' so." + +Yan figured a minute and said, "Twenty-five feet each." + +"Thar, didn't I tell ye," thundered Raften; "didn't I say that that +dhirty swindler of an architect was playing us into the conthractor's +hands--thought we wuz simple--a put-up job, the hull durn thing. Luk +at it! They're nothing but a gang of thieves." + +Yan glanced at the plan that was being flourished in the air. + +"Hold on," he said, with an air of authority that he certainly never +before had used to Raften, "there's the lobby and cloak-room to come +off." He subtracted their bulk and found the plan all right--the +Government minimum of air. + +Boyle's eye had now just a little gleam of triumphant malice. Raften +seemed actually disappointed not to have found some roguery. + +"Well, they're a shcaly lot, anyhow. They'll bear watchin'," he added, +in tones of self-justification. + +"Now, Yahn, last year the township was assessed at $265,000 an' we +raised $265 with a school-tax of wan mill on the dollar. This year the +new assessment gives $291,400; how much will the same tax raise if +cost of collecting is same?" + +"Two hundred and ninety-one dollars and forty cents," said Yan, +without hesitation--and the three men sat back in their chairs and +gasped. + +It was the triumph of his life. Even old Boyle beamed in admiration, +and Raften glowed, feeling that not a little of it belonged to him. + +There was something positively pathetic in the simplicity of the three +shrewd men and their abject reverence for the wonderful scholarship of +this raw boy, and not less touching was their absolute faith in his +infallibility as a mathematician. + +Raften grinned at him in a peculiar, almost a weak way. Yan had never +seen that expression on his face before, excepting once, and that +was as he shook hands with a noted pugilist just after he had won a +memorable fight. Yan did not know whether he liked it or not. + +On the road home Raften talked with unusual freeness about his plans +for his son. (Yan began to realize that the storm had blown over.) He +harped on his favourite theme, "eddication." If Yan had only known, +that was the one word of comfort that Raften found when he saw his big +boy go down: "It's eddication done it. Oh, but he's fine eddicated." +Yan never knew until years afterward, when a grown man and he and +Raften were talking of the old days, that he had been for some time +winning respect from the rough-and-ready farmer, but what finally +raised him to glorious eminence was the hip-throw that he served that +day on Sam. + + * * * * * + +Raften was all right, Yan believed, but what of Sam? They had not +spoken yet. Yan wished to make up, but it grew harder. Sam had got +over his wrath and wanted a chance, but did not know how. + +He had just set down his two buckets after feeding the pigs when +Minnie came toddling out. + +"Sam! Sam! Take Minnie to 'ide," then seeing Yan she added, "Yan, you +mate a tair, tate hold Sam's hand." + +The queen must be obeyed. Sam and Yan sheepishly grasped hands to make +a queen's chair for the little lady. She clutched them both around +the neck and brought their heads close together. They both loved the +pink-and-white baby between them, and both could talk to her though +not to each other. But there is something in touch that begets +comprehension. The situation was becoming ludicrous when Sam suddenly +burst out laughing, then: + +"Say, Yan, let's be friends." + +"I--I want--to--be," stammered Yan, with tears standing in his eyes. +"I'm awfully sorry. I'll never do it again," + +"Oh, shucks! I don't care," said Sam. "It was all that dirty little +sneak that made the trouble; but never mind, it's all right. The +only thing that worries me is how you sent me flying. I'm bigger an' +stronger an' older, I can heft more an' work harder, but you throwed +me like a bag o' shavings, I only wish I knowed how you done it." + + + + + + +PART III + +IN THE WOODS + + + + +I + +Really in the Woods + + +"Ye seem to waste a powerful lot o' time goin' up an' down to yer camp; +why don't ye stay thayer altogether?" said Raften one day, in the +colourless style that always worried every one, for they did not know +whether it was really meant or was mere sarcasm. + +"Suits me. 'Tain't our choice to come home," replied his son. + +"We'd like nothing better than to sleep there, too," said Yan. + +"Well, why don't ye? That's what I'd do if I was a boy playin' Injun; +I'd go right in an' play." + +"_All right now_," drawled Sam (he always drawled in proportion +to his emphasis), "that suits us; now we're a-going sure." + +"All right, bhoys," said Raften; "but mind ye the pigs an' cattle's to +be 'tended to every day." + +"Is that what ye call lettin' us camp out--come home to work jest the +same?" + +"No, no, William," interposed Mrs. Raften; "that's not fair. That's no +way to give them a holiday. Either do it or don't. Surely one of the +men can do the chores for a month." + +"Month--I didn't say nothin' about a month." + +"Well, why don't you now?" + +"Whoi, a month would land us into harvest," and William had the air of +a man at bay, finding them all against him. + +"I'll do Yahn's chores for a fortnight if he'll give me that thayer +pictur he drawed of the place," now came in Michel's voice from +the far end of the table--"except Sunday," he added, remembering a +standing engagement, which promised to result in something of vast +importance to him. + +"Wall, I'll take care o' them Sundays," said Si Lee. + +"Yer all agin me," grumbled William with comical perplexity. "But +bhoys ought to be bhoys. Ye kin go." + +"Whoop!" yelled Sam. + +"Hooray!" joined in Yan, with even more interest though with less +unrestraint. + +"But howld on, I ain't through--" + +"I say, Da, we want your gun. We can't go camping without a gun." + +"Howld on, now. Give me a chance to finish. Ye can go fur two weeks, +but ye got to _go_; no snakin' home nights to sleep. Ye can't hev +no matches an' no gun. I won't hev a lot o' children foolin' wid a +didn't-know-it-was-loaded, an' shootin' all the birds and squirrels +an' each other, too. Ye kin hev yer bows an' arrows an' ye ain't +likely to do no harrum. Ye kin hev all the mate an' bread an' stuff +ye want, but ye must cook it yerselves, an' if I see any signs of +settin' the Woods afire I'll be down wid the rawhoide an' cut the +very livers out o' ye." + +The rest of the morning was devoted to preparation, Mrs. Raften taking +the leading hand. + +"Now, who's to be cook?" she asked. + +"Sam"--"Yan"--said the boys in the same breath. + +"Hm! You seem in one mind about it. Suppose you take it turn and turn +about--Sam first day." + +Then followed instructions for making coffee in the morning, boiling +potatoes, frying bacon. Bread and butter enough they were to take with +them--eggs, too. + +"You better come home for milk every day or every other day, at +least," remarked the mother. + +"We'd ruther steal it from the cows in the pasture," ventured Sam, +"seems naturaler to me Injun blood." + +"If I ketch ye foolin' round the cows or sp'ilin' them the fur'll +fly," growled Raften. + +"Well, kin we hook apples and cherries?" and Sam added in explanation; +"they're no good to us unless they're hooked." + +"Take all the fruit ye want." + +"An' potatoes?" + +"Yes." + +"An' aigs?" + +"Well, if ye don't take more'n ye need." + +"An' cakes out of the pantry? Indians do that." + +"No; howld on now. That is a good place to draw the line. How are ye +goin' to get yer staff down thayer? It's purty heavy. Ye see thayer +are yer beds an' pots an' pans, as well as food." + +"We'll have to take a wagon to the swamp and then carry them on our +backs on the blazed trail," said Sam, and explained "our backs" by +pointing to Michel and Si at work in the yard. + +"The road goes as far as the creek," suggested Yan; "let's make a raft +there an' take the lot in it down to the swimming-pond; that'd be real +Injun." + +"What'll ye make the raft of?" asked Raften. + +"Cedar rails nailed together," answered Sam. + +"No nails in mine," objected Yan; "that isn't Injun." + +"An' none o' my cedar rails fur that. 'Pears to me it'd be less work +an' more Injun to pack the stuff on yer backs an' no risk o' wettin' +the beds." + +So the raft was given up, and the stuff was duly carted to the creek's +side. Raften himself went with it. He was a good deal of a boy at +heart and he was much in sympathy with the plan. His remarks showed +a mixture of interest, and doubt as to the wisdom of letting himself +take so much interest. + +"Hayre, load me up," he said, much to the surprise of the boys, as +they came to the creek's edge. His broad shoulders carried half of the +load. The blazed trail was only two hundred yards long, and in two +trips the stuff was all dumped down in front of the teepee. + +Sam noted with amusement the unexpected enthusiasm of his father. +"Say, Da, you're just as bad as we are. I believe you'd like to join +us." + +"'Moinds me o' airly days here," was the reply, with a wistful note in +his voice. "Many a night me an' Caleb Clark slep' out this way on this +very crick when them fields was solid bush. Do ye know how to make a +bed?" + +"Don't know a thing," and Sam winked at Yan. "Show us." + +"I'll show ye the rale thing. Where's the axe?" + +"Haven't any," said Yan. "There's a big tomahawk and a little +tomahawk." + +Raften grinned, took the big "tomahawk" and pointed to a small Balsam +Fir. "Now there's a foine bed-tree." + +"Why, that's a fire-tree, too," said Yan, as with two mighty strokes +Raften sent it toppling down, then rapidly trimmed it of its flat +green boughs. A few more strokes brought down a smooth young Ash and +cut it into four pieces, two of them seven feet long and two of them +five feet. Next he cut a White Oak sapling and made four sharp pegs +each two feet long. + +"Now, boys, whayer do you want yer bed?" then stopping at a thought +he added, "Maybe ye didn't want me to help--want to do everything +yerselves?" + +"Ugh, bully good squaw. Keep it up--wagh!" said his son and heir, as +he calmly sat on a log and wore his most "Injun brave" expression of +haughty approval. + +The father turned with an inquiring glance to Yan, who replied: + +"We're mighty glad of your help. You see, we don't know how. It seems +to me that I read once the best place in the teepee is opposite the +door and a little to one side. Let's make it here." So Raften placed +the four logs for the sides and ends of the bed and drove in the +ground the four stakes to hold them. Yan brought in several armfuls of +branches, and Raften proceeded to lay them like shingles, beginning at +the head-log of the bed and lapping them very much. It took all the +fir boughs, but when all was done there was a solid mass of soft green +tips a foot thick, all the butts being at the ground. + +"Thayer," said Raften, "that's an _Injun feather bed_ an' safe +an' warrum. Slapin' on the ground's terrible dangerous, but that's all +right. Now make your bed on that." Sam and Yan did so, and when it was +finished Raften said: "Now, fetch that little canvas I told yer ma to +put in; that's to fasten to the poles for an inner tent over the bed." + +Yan stood still and looked uncomfortable. + +"Say, Da, look at Yan. He's got that tired look that he wears when the +rules is broke." + +"What's wrong," asked Raften. + +"Indians don't have them that I ever heard of," said Little Beaver. + +"Yan, did ye iver hear of a teepee linin' or a dew-cloth?" + +"Yes," was the answer, in surprise at the unexpected knowledge of the +farmer. + +"Do ye know what they're like?" + +"No--at least--no--" + +"Well, _I do_; that's what it's like. That's something I do know, +fur I seen old Caleb use wan." + +"Oh, I remember reading about it now, and they are like that, and it's +on them that the Indians paint their records. Isn't that bully," as he +saw Raften add two long inner stakes which held the dew-cloth like a +canopy. + +"Say, Da, I never knew you and Caleb were hunting together. Thought ye +were jest natural born enemies." + +"Humph!" grunted Raften. "We wuz chums oncet. Never had no fault to +find till we swapped horses." + +"Sorry you ain't now, 'cause he's sure sharp in the woods." + +"He shouldn't a-tried to make an orphan out o' you." + +"Are you sure he done it?" + +"If 'twasn't him I dunno who 'twas. Yan, fetch some of them pine knots +thayer." + +Yan went after the knots; it was some yards into the woods, and out +there he was surprised to see a tall man behind a tree. A second's +glance showed it to be Caleb. The Trapper laid one finger on his lips +and shook his head. Yan nodded assent, gathered the knots, and went +back to the camp, where Sam continued: + +"You skinned him out of his last cent, old Boyle says." + +"An' whoi not, when he throid to shkin me? Before that I was helpin' +him, an' fwhat must he do but be ahfter swappin' horses. He might as +well ast me to play poker and then squeal when I scooped the pile. +Naybours is wan thing an' swappin' horses is another. All's fair in +a horse trade, an' friends didn't orter swap horses widout they kin +stand the shkinnin'. That's a game by itself. Oi would 'a' helped him +jest the same afther that swap an' moore, fur he wuz good stuff, but +he must nades shoot at me that noight as I come home wit the wad, so +av coorse--" + +"I wish ye had a Dog now," said the farmer in the new tone of a new +subject; "tramps is a nuisance at all toimes, an' a Dog is the best +med'cine for them. I don't believe old Cap'd stay here; but maybe yer +near enough to the house so they won't bother ye. An' now I guess the +Paleface will go back to the settlement. I promised ma that I'd see +that yer bed wuz all right, an' if ye sleep warrum an' dry an' hev +plenty to ate ye'll take no harrum." + +So he turned away, but as he was quitting the clearing he +stopped,--the curious boyish interest was gone from his face, the +geniality from his voice--then in his usual stern tones of command: + +[Illustration: "If ye kill any Song-birds, I'll use the rawhoide on +ye."] + +"Now, bhoys, ye kin shoot all the Woodchucks yer a mind ter, fur they +are a nuisance in the field. Yer kin kill Hawks an' Crows an' Jays, +fur they kill other birds, an' Rabbits an' Coons, fur they are fair +game; but I don't want to hear of yer killin' any Squirrels or +Chipmunks or Song-birds, an' if ye do I'll stop the hull thing an' +bring ye back to wurruk, an' use the rawhoide on tap o' that." + + + + +II + +The First Night and Morning + + +It was a strange new feeling that took possession of the boys as they +saw Mr. Raften go, and when his step actually died away on the blazed +trail they felt that they were really and truly alone in the woods and +camping out. To Yan it was the realization of many dreams, and the +weirdness of it was helped by the remembrance of the tall old man he +had seen watching them from behind the trees. He made an excuse to +wander out there, but of course Caleb was gone. + +"Fire up," Sam presently called out. Yan was the chief expert with the +rubbing-sticks, and within a minute or two he had the fire going in +the middle of the teepee and Sam set about preparing the evening meal. +This was supposed to be Buffalo meat and Prairie roots (beef and +potatoes). It was eaten rather quietly, and then the boys sat down on +the opposite sides of the fire. The conversation dragged, then died +a natural death; each was busy with his thoughts, and there was, +moreover, an impressive and repressive something or other all around +them. Not a stillness, for there were many sounds, but beyond those +a sort of voiceless background that showed up all the myriad voices. +Some of these were evidently Bird, some Insect, and a few were +recognized as Tree-frog notes. In the near stream were sounds of +splashing or a little plunge. + +"Must be Mushrat," whispered Sam to the unspoken query of his friend. + +A loud, far "Oho-oho-oho" was familiar to both as the cry of the +Horned Owl, but a strange long wail rang out from the trees overhead. + +"What's that?" + +"Don't know," was all they whispered, and both felt very +uncomfortable. The solemnity and mystery of the night was on them +and weighing more heavily with the waning light. The feeling was +oppressive. Neither had courage enough to propose going to the house +or their camping would have ended. Sam arose and stirred the fire, +looked around for more wood, and, seeing none, he grumbled (to +himself) and stepped outside in the darkness to find some. It was not +till long afterward that he admitted having had to _dare_ himself +to step out into the darkness. He brought in some sticks and fastened +the door as tightly as possible. The blazing fire in the teepee was +cheering again. The boys perhaps did not realize that there was +actually a tinge of homesickness in their mood, yet both were thinking +of the comfortable circle at the house. The blazing fire smoked a +little, and Sam said: + +"Kin you fix that to draw? You know more about it 'an me." + +Yan now forced himself to step outside. The wind was rising and had +changed. He swung the smoke poles till the vent was quartering down, +then hoarsely whispered, "How's that?" + +"That's better," was the reply in a similar tone, though there was no +obvious difference yet. + +He went inside with nervous haste and fastened up the entrance. + +"Let's make a good fire and go to bed." + +So they turned in after partly undressing, but not to sleep for hours. +Yan in particular was in a state of nervous excitement. His heart had +beaten violently when he went out that time, and even now that mysterious +dread was on him. The fire was the one comfortable thing. He dozed off, +but started up several times at some slight sound. Once it was a peculiar +"_Tick, tick, scr-a-a-a-a-pe, lick-scra-a-a-a-a-a-pe,_" down the teepee +over his head. "_A Bear_" was his first notion, but on second thoughts +he decided it was only a leaf sliding down the canvas. Later he was +roused by a "_Scratch, scratch, scratch_" close to him. He listened +silently for some time. This was no leaf; it was an _animal!_ Yes, +surely--it was a Mouse. He slapped the canvas violently and "hissed" +till it went away, but as he listened he heard again that peculiar +wail in the tree-tops. It almost made his hair sit up. He reached out +and poked the fire together into a blaze. All was still and in time he +dozed off. Once more he was wide awake in a flash and saw Sam sitting +up in bed listening. + +[Illustration: "Where's the axe?"] + +"What is it, Sam?" he whispered. + +"I dunno. Where's the axe?" + +"Right here." + +"Let me have it on my side. You kin have the hatchet." + +But they dropped off at last and slept soundly till the sun was strong +on the canvas and filling the teepee with a blaze of transmitted +light. + +"Woodpecker! Woodpecker! Get up! Get up! Hi-e-yo! Hi-e-yo! +Double-u-double-o-d-bang-fizz-whackety-whack-y-r-chuck- +brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-Woodpecker," shouted Yan to his sleepy chum, quoting +a phrase that Sam when a child had been taught as the true spelling of +his nickname. + +Sam woke slowly, but knowing perfectly where he was, and drawled: + +"Get up yourself. You're cook to-day, an' I'll take my breakfast in +bed. Seems like my knee is broke out again." + +"Oh, get up, and let's have a swim before breakfast." + +"No, thank you, I'm too busy just now; 'sides, it's both cold and wet +in that pond, this time o' day." + +The morning was fresh and bright; many birds were singing, although it +was July, a Red-eyed Vireo and a Robin were in full song; and as Yan +rose to get the breakfast he wondered why he had been haunted by such +strange feelings the night before. It was incomprehensible now. He +wished that appalling wail in the tree-tops would sound again, so he +might trace it home. + +There still were some live coals in the ashes, and in a few minutes he +had a blazing fire, with the pot boiling for coffee, and the bacon in +the fryer singing sweetest music for the hungry. + +Sam lay on his back watching his companion and making critical +remarks. + +"You may be an A1 cook--at least, I hope you are, but you don't know +much about fire-wood," said he. "Now look at that," as one huge spark +after another exploded from the fire and dropped on the bed and the +teepee cover. + +"How can I help it?" + +"I'll bet Da's best cow against your jack-knife you got some Ellum or +Hemlock in that fire." + +"Well, I have," Yan admitted, with an air of surrender. + +"My son," said the Great Chief Woodpecker, "no sparking allowed in the +teepee. Beech, Maple, Hickory or Ash never spark. Pine knots an' roots +don't, but they make smoke like--like--oh--you know. Hemlock, Ellum, +Chestnut, Spruce and Cedar is public sparkers, an' not fit for dacint +teepee sassiety. Big Injun heap hate noisy, crackling fire. Enemy hear +that, an'--an'--it burns his bedclothes." + +"All right, Grandpa," and the cook made a mental note, then added in +tones of deadly menace, "You get up now, do you understand!" and he +picked up a bucket of water. + +"That might scare the Great Chief Woodpecker if the Great Chief Cook +had a separate bed, but now he smiles kind o' scornful," was all the +satisfaction he got. Then seeing that breakfast really was ready, +Sam scrambled out a few minutes later. The coffee acted like an +elixir--their spirits rose, and before the meal was ended it would +have been hard to find two more hilarious and enthusiastic campers. +Even the vague terrors of the night were now sources of amusement. + + + + +III + +A Crippled Warrior and the Mud Albums + + +"Say, Sam; what about Guy? Do we want him?" + +"Well, it's just like this. If it was at school or any other place I +wouldn't be bothered with the dirty little cuss, but out in the woods +like this one feels kind o' friendly, an' three's better than two. +Besides, he has been admitted to the Tribe already." + +"Yes, that's what I say. Let's give him a _yell_." + +So the boys uttered a long yell, produced by alternating the voice +between a high falsetto and a natural tone. This was the "yell," and +had never failed to call Guy forth to join them unless he had some +chore on hand and his "Paw" was too near to prevent his renegading to +the Indians. He soon appeared waving a branch, the established signal +that he came as a friend. + +He came very slowly, however, and the boys saw that he limped +frightfully, helping himself along with a stick. He was barefoot, as +usual, but his left foot was swaddled in a bundle of rags. + +"Hello, Sappy; what happened? Out to Wounded Knee River?" + +"Nope. Struck luck. Paw was bound I'd ride the Horse with the scuffler +all day, but he gee'd too short an' I arranged to tumble off'n him, +an' Paw cuffled me foot some. Law! how I did holler! You should 'a' +heard me." + +[Illustration: "He soon appeared, waving a branch."] + +"Bet we did," said Sam. "When was it?" + +"Yesterday about four." + +"Exactly. We heard an awful screech and Yan says, says he, 'There's +the afternoon train at Kelly's Crossing, but ain't she late?' + +"'Train!' says I. 'Pooh. I'll bet that's Guy Burns getting a new +licking.'" + +"Guess I'll well up now," said War Chief Sapwood, so stripped his +foot, revealing a scratch that would not have cost a thought had he +got it playing ball. He laid the rags away carefully and with them +every trace of the limp, then entered heartily into camp life. + +The vast advantage of being astir early now was seen. There were +Squirrels in every other tree, there were birds on every side, and +when they ran to the pond a wild Duck spattered over the surface and +whistled out of sight. + +"What you got?" called Sam, as he saw Yan bending eagerly over +something down by the pond. + +Yan did not answer, and so Sam went over and saw him studying out a +mark in the mud. He was trying to draw it in his note-book. + +"What is it?" repeated Sam. + +"Don't know. Too stubby for a Muskrat, too much claw for a Cat, too +small for a Coon, too many toes for a Mink." + +"I'll bet it's a Whangerdoodle." + +Yan merely chuckled in answer to this. + +"Don't you laugh," said the Woodpecker, solemnly, "You'd be more apt +to cry if you seen one walk into the teepee blowing the whistle at the +end of his tail. Then it'd be, 'Oh, Sam, where's the axe?'" + +"Tell you what I do believe it is," said Yan, not noticing this +terrifying description; "it's a Skunk." + +"Little Beaver, my son! I thought I would tell you, then I sez to +meself, 'No; it's better for him to find out by his lone. Nothing like +a struggle in early life to develop the stuff in a man. It don't do to +help him too much,' sez I, an' so I didn't." + +Here Sam condescendingly patted the Second War Chief on the head and +nodded approvingly. Of course he did not know as much about the track +as Yan did, but he prattled on: + +"Little Beaver! you're a heap struck on tracks--Ugh--good! You kin +tell by them everything that passes in the night. Wagh! Bully! You're +likely to be the naturalist of our Tribe. But you ain't got gumption. +Now, in this yer hunting-ground of our Tribe there is only one place +where you can see a track, an' that is that same mud-bank; all the +rest is hard or grassy. Now, what I'd do if I was a Track-a-mist, I'd +give the critters lots o' chance to leave tracks. I'd fix it all +round with places so nothing could come or go 'thout givin' us his +impressions of the trip. I'd have one on each end of the trail coming +in, an' one on each side of the creek where it comes in an' goes out." + +"Well, Sam, you have a pretty level head. I wonder I didn't think of +that myself." + +"My son, the Great Chief does the thinking. It's the rabble--that's +you and Sappy--that does the work." + +But all the same he set about it at once with Yan, Sappy following +with a _slight limp now_. They removed the sticks and rubbish for +twenty feet of the trail at each end and sprinkled this with three +or four inches of fine black loam. They cleared off the bank of the +stream at four places, one at each side where it entered the woods, +and one at each side where it went into the Burns's Bush. + +"Now," said Sam, "there's what I call visitors' albums like the one +that Phil Leary's nine fatties started when they got their brick house +and their swelled heads, so every one that came in could write their +names an' something about 'this happy, happy, ne'er-to-be-forgotten +visit'--them as could write. Reckon that's where our visitors get the +start, for all of ours kin write that has feet." + +"Wonder why I didn't think o' that," said Yan, again and again. "But +there's one thing you forget," he said. "We want one around the +teepee." + +This was easily made, as the ground was smooth and bare there, and +Sappy forgot his limp and helped to carry ashes and sand from the +fire-hole. Then planting his broad feet down in the dust, with many +snickers, he left some very interesting tracks. + +"I call that a bare track" said Sam. + +"Go ahead and draw it," giggled Sappy + +"Why not?" and Yan got out his book. + +"Bet you can't make it life-size," and Sam glanced from the little +note-book to the vast imprint. + +After it was drawn, Sam said, "Guess I'll peel off and show you a +human track." He soon gave an impression of his foot for the artist, +and later Yan added his own; the three were wholly different. + +"Seems to me it would be about right, if you had the ways the toes +pointed and the distance apart to show how long the legs wuz." + +Again Sam had given Yan a good idea. From that time he noted these two +points and made his records much better. + +"Air you fellers roostin' here now?" said Sappy in surprise, as he +noted the bed as well as the pots and pans. + +"Yep." + +"Well, I wanter, too. If I kin git hol' o' Maw 'thout Paw, it'll be +O.K." + +"You let on we don't want you and Paw'll let you come. Tell him +Ole Man Raften ordered you off the place an' he'll fetch you here +himself." + +"I guess there's room enough in that bed fur three," remarked the +Third War Chief. + +"Well, I guess there ain't," said Woodpecker. "Not when the third one +won first prize for being the dirtiest boy in school. You can get +stuff an' make your own bed, across there on the other side the fire." + +"Don't know how." + +"We'll show you, only you'll have to go home for blankets an' grub." + +The boys soon cut a Fir-bough bed, but Guy put off going home for the +blankets as long as he could. He knew and they suspected that there +was no chance of his rejoining them again that day. So after sundown +he replaced his foot-rags and limped down the trail homeward, saying, +"I'll be back in a few minutes," and the boys knew perfectly well that +he would not. + +The evening meal was over; they had sat around wondering if the night +would repeat its terrors. An Owl "Hoo-hoo-ed" in the trees. There was +a pleasing romance in the sound. The boys kept up the fire till about +ten, then retired, determined that they would not be scared this time. +They were barely off to sleep when the most awful outcry arose in the +near woods, like "a Wolf with a sore throat," then the yells of a +human being in distress. Again the boys sat up in fright. There was a +scuffling outside--a loud and terrified "Hi--hi--hi--Sam!" Then an +attack was made on the door. It was torn open, and in tumbled Guy. He +was badly frightened; but when the fire was lighted and he calmed down +a little he confessed that Paw had sent him to bed, but when all was +still he had slipped out the window, carrying the bedclothes. He was +nearly back to the camp when he decided to scare the boys by letting +off a few wolfish howls, but he made himself very scary by doing it, +and when a wild answer came from the tree-tops--a hideous, blaring +screech--he lost all courage, dropped the bedding, and ran toward the +teepee yelling for help. + +The boys took torches presently and went nervously in search of the +missing blankets. Guy's bed was made and in an hour they were once +more asleep. + +In the morning Sam was up and out first. From the home trail he +suddenly called: + +"Yan, come here." + +"Do you mean me?" said Little Beaver, with haughty dignity. + +"Yep, Great Chief; git a move on you. Hustle out here. Made a find. Do +you see who was visiting us last night while we slept?" and he pointed +to the "album" on the inway. "I hain't shined them shoes every week +with soot off the bottom of the pot without knowin' that one pair of +'em was wore by Ma an' one of 'em by Da. But let's see how far they +come. Why, I orter looked round the teepee before tramplin' round." +They went back, and though the trails were much hidden by their own, +they found enough around the doorway to show that during the night, or +more likely late in the evening, the father and mother had paid them a +visit in secret--had inspected the camp as they slept, but finding no +one stirring and the boys breathing the deep breath of healthy sleep, +they had left them undisturbed. + +"Say, boys--I mean Great Chiefs--what we want in camp is a Dog, or one +of these nights some one will steal our teeth out o' our heads an' we +won't know a thing till they come back for the gums. All Injun camps +have Dogs, anyway." + +The next morning the Third War Chief was ordered out by the Council, +first to wash himself clean, then to act as cook for the day. He +grumbled as he washed, that "'Twan't no good--he'd be all dirty again +in two minutes," which was not far from the truth. But he went at the +cooking with enthusiasm, which lasted nearly an hour. After this he +did not see any fun in it, and for once he, as well as the others, +began to realize how much was done for them at home. At noon Sappy set +out nothing but dirty dishes, and explained that so long as each got +his own it was all right. His foot was very troublesome at meal time +also. He said it was the moving round when he was hurrying that made +it so hard to bear, but in their expedition with bows and arrows later +on he found complete relief. + +"Say, look at the Red-bird," he shouted, as a Tanager flitted onto a +low branch and blazed in the sun. "Bet I hit him first shot!" and he +drew an arrow. + +"Here you, Saphead," said Sam, "quit that shooting at little birds. +It's bad medicine. It's against the rules; it brings bad luck--it +brings awful bad luck. I tell you there ain't no worse luck than Da's +raw-hide--that I know." + +"Why, what's the good o' playin' Injun if we can't shoot a blame +thing?" protested Sappy. + +"You kin shoot Crows an' Jays if you like, an' Woodchucks, too." + +"I know where there's a Woodchuck as big as a Bear." + +"Ah! What size Bear?" + +"Well, it is. You kin laugh all you want to. He has a den in our +clover field, an' he made it so big that the mower dropped in an' +throwed Paw as far as from here to the crick." + +"An' the horses, how did they get out?" + +"Well! It broke the machine, an' you should have heard Paw swear. My! +but he was a socker. Paw offered me a quarter if I'd kill the old +whaler. I borrowed a steel trap an' set it in the hole, but he'd dig +out under it an' round it every time. I'll bet there ain't anything +smarter'n an old Woodchuck." + +"Is he there yet?" asked War Chief No. 2. + +"You just bet he is. Why, he has half an acre of clover all eat up." + +"Let's try to get him," said Yan. "Can we find him?" + +"Well, I should say so. I never come by but I see the old feller. He's +so big he looks like a calf, an' so old an' wicked he's gray-headed." + +"Let's have a shot at him," suggested the Woodpecker. "He's fair game. +Maybe your Paw'll give us a quarter each if we kill him." + +Guy snickered. "Guess you don't know my Paw," then he giggled +bubblously through his nose again. + +Arrived at the edge of the clover, Sam asked, "Where's your +Woodchuck?" + +"Right in there." + +"I don't see him." + +"Well, he's always here." + +"Not now, you bet." + +"Well, this is the very first time I ever came here and didn't see +him. Oh, I tell you, he's a fright. I'll bet he's a blame sight +bigger'n that stump." + +"Well, here's his track, anyway," said Woodpecker, pointing to some +tracks he had just made unseen with his own broad palm. + +"Now," said Sappy, in triumph. "Ain't he an old socker?" + +"Sure enough. You ain't missed any cows lately, have you? Wonder you +ain't scared to live anyways near!" + + + + +IV + +A "Massacree" of Palefaces + + +"Say, fellers, I know where there's a stavin' Birch tree--do you want +any bark?" + +"Yes, I want some," said Little Beaver. + +"But hold on; I guess we better not, coz it's right on the edge o' our +bush, an' Paw's still at the turnips." + +"Now if you want a real war party," said the Head Chief, "let's +massacree the Paleface settlement up the crick and get some milk. +We're just out, and I'd like to see if the place has changed any." + +So the boys hid their bows and arrows and headdresses, and, forgetting +to take a pail, they followed in Indian file the blazed trail, +carefully turning in their toes as they went and pointing silently to +the track, making signs of great danger. First they crawled up, under +cover of one of the fences, to the barn. The doors were open and men +working at something. A pig wandered in from the barnyard. Then the +boys heard a sudden scuffle, and a squeal from the pig as it scrambled +out again, and Raften's voice: "Consarn them pigs! Them boys ought to +be here to herd them." This was sufficiently alarming to scare the +Warriors off in great haste. They hid in the huge root-cellar and +there held a council of war. + +"Here, Great Chiefs of Sanger," said Yan, "behold I take three straws. +That long one is for the Great Woodpecker, the middle size is for +Little Beaver, and the short thick one with the bump on the end and +a crack on top is Sappy. Now I will stack them up in a bunch and let +them fall, then whichever way they point we must go, for this is Big +Medicine." + +So the straws fell. Sam's straw pointed nearly to the house, Yan's a +little to the south of the house, and Guy's right back home. + +"Aha, Sappy, you got to go home; the straw says so." + +"I ain't goin' to believe no such foolishness." + +"It's awful unlucky to go against it." + +"I don't care, I ain't goin' back," said Guy doggedly. + +"Well, my straw says go to the house; that means go scouting for milk, +I reckon." + +Yan's straw pointed toward the garden, and Guy's to the residence and +grounds of "J.G. Burns, Esq." + +"I don't care," said Sappy, "I ain't goin'. I am goin' after some +of them cherries in your orchard, an' 'twon't be the first time, +neither." + +"We kin meet by the Basswood at the foot of the lane with whatever +we get," said the First War Chief, as he sneaked into the bushes and +crawled through the snake fence and among the nettles and manure +heaps on the north side of the barnyard till he reached the woodshed +adjoining the house. He knew where the men were, and he could guess +where his mother was, but he was worried about the Dog. Old Cap might +be on the front doorstep, or he might be prowling at just the wrong +place for the Injun plan. The woodshed butted on the end of the +kitchen. The milk was kept in the cellar, and one window of the cellar +opened into a dark corner of the woodshed. This was easily raised, and +Sam scrambled down into the cool damp cellar. Long rows of milk pans +were in sight on the shelves. He lifted the cover of the one he knew +to be the last put there and drank a deep, long draught with his mouth +down to it, then licked the cream from his lips and remembered that he +had come without a pail. But he knew where to get one. He went +gently up the stairs, avoiding steps Nos. 1 and 7 because they were +"creakers," as he found out long ago, when he used to 'hook' maple +sugar from the other side of the house. The door at the top was closed +and buttoned, but he put his jack-knife blade through the crack and +turned the button. After listening awhile and hearing no sound in the +kitchen, he gently opened the squeaky old door. There was no one to +be seen but the baby, sound asleep in her cradle. The outer door was +open, but no Dog lying on the step as usual. Over the kitchen was a +garret entered by a trap-door and a ladder. The ladder was up and the +trap-door open, but all was still. Sam stood over the baby, grunted, +"Ugh, Paleface papoose," raised his hand as if wielding a war club, +aimed a deadly blow at the sleeping cherub, then stooped and kissed +her rosy mouth so lightly that her pink fists went up to rub it at +once. He now went to the pantry, took a large pie and a tin pail, +then down into the cellar again. He, at first, merely closed the door +behind him and was leaving it so, but remembered that Minnie might +awaken and toddle around till she might toddle into the cellar, +therefore he turned the button so that just a corner showed over the +crack, closed the door and worked with his knife blade on that corner +till the cellar was made as safe as before. He now escaped with his +pie and pail. + +Meanwhile his mother's smiling face beamed out of the dark loft. Then +she came down the ladder. She had seen him come and enter the cellar, +by chance she was in the loft when he reached the kitchen, but she had +kept quiet to enjoy the joke. + +Next time the Woodpecker went to the cellar he found a paper with this +on it: "_Notice_ to hostile Injuns--Next time you massacree this +settlement, bring back the pail, and don't leave the covers off the +milk pans." + +Yan had followed the fence that ran south of the house. There was +plenty of cover, but he crawled on hands and knees, going right down +on his breast when he came to places more open than the rest. In this +way he had nearly reached the garden when he heard a noise behind and, +turning, he saw Sappy. + +"Here, what are you following me for? Your straw pointed the other +way. You ain't playing fair." + +"Well, I don't care, I ain't going home. _You_ fixed it up so my +straw would point that way. It ain't fair, an' I won't do it." + +"You got no right following me." + +"I ain't following you, but you keep going just the place I want to +go. It's you following me, on'y keepin' ahead. I told you I was after +cherries." + +"Well, the cherries are that way and I'm going this way, and I don't +want you along." + +"You couldn't get me if you wanted me." + +"Erh----" + +"Erh----" + +So Sappy went cherryward and Yan waited awhile, then crawled toward +the fruit garden. After twenty or thirty yards more, he saw a gleam of +red, then under it a bright yellow eye glaring at him. He had chanced +on a hen sitting on her nest. He came nearer, she took alarm and ran +away, not clucking, but cackling loudly. There were a dozen eggs of +two different styles, all bright and clean, and the hen's comb was +bright red. Yan knew hens. This was easy to read: Two stray hens +laying in one nest, and neither of them sitting yet. + +"So ho! Straws show which way the hens go." + +He gathered up the eggs into his hat and crawled back toward the tree +where all had to meet. + +But before he had gone far he heard a loud barking, then yells for +help, and turned in time to see Guy scramble up a tree while Cap, the +old Collie, barked savagely at him from below. Now that he was in no +danger Sappy had the sense to keep quiet. Yan came back as quickly +as possible. The Dog at once recognized and obeyed _him_, but +doubtless was much puzzled to make out why he should be pelted back to +the house when he had so nobly done his duty by the orchard. + +"Now, you see, maybe next time you'll do what the medicine straw tells +you. Only for me you'd been caught and fed to the pigs, sure." + +"Only for you I wouldn't have come. I wasn't scared of your old Dog, +anyway. Just in about two minutes more I was comin' down to kick the +stuffin' out o' him myself." + +"Perhaps you'd like to go back and do it now. I'll soon call him." + +"Oh, I hain't got time now, but some other time--Let's find Sam." + +So they foregathered at the tree, and laden with their spoils, they +returned gloriously to camp. + + + + +V + +The Deer Hunt + + +That evening they had a feast and turned in to sleep at the usual +hour. The night passed without special alarm. Once about daylight +Sappy called them, saying he believed there was a Bear outside, but +he had a trick of grinding his teeth in his sleep, and the other boys +told him that was the Bear he heard. + +Yan went around to the mud albums and got some things he could +not make out and a new mark that gave him a sensation. He drew it +carefully. It was evidently the print of a small sharp hoof. This was +what he had hungered for so long. He shouted, "Sam--Sam--Sapwood, come +here; here's a _Deer track_." + +The boys shouted back, "Ah, what you givin' us now!" "Call off your +Dog!" and so forth. + +But Yan persisted. The boys were so sure it was a trick that they +would not go for some time, then the sun had risen high, shining +straight down on the track instead of across, so it became very dim. +Soon the winds, the birds and the boys themselves helped to wipe it +out. But Yan had his drawing, and persisted in spite of the teasing +that it was true. + +At length Guy said aside to Sam: "Seems to me a feller that hunts +tracks so terrible serious ought to see the critter _some time_. +'Tain't right to let him go on sufferin'. _I_ think he ought to +see that Deer. We ought to help him." Here he winked a volley or two +and made signs for Sam to take Yan away. + +This was easily done. + +"Let's see if your Deer went out by the lower mud album." So they +walked down that way, while Guy got an old piece of sacking, stuffed +it with grass, and, hastily tying it in the form of a Deer's head, +stuck it on a stick. He put in two flat pieces of wood for ears, took +charcoal and made two black spots for eyes and one for a nose, then +around each he drew a ring of blue clay from the bed of the brook. +This soon dried and became white. Guy now set up this head in the +bushes, and when all was ready he ran swiftly and silently through the +wood to find Sam and Yan. He beckoned vigorously and called under +his voice: "Sam--Yan--a Deer! Here's that there Deer that made them +tracks, I believe." + +Guy would have failed to convince Yan if Sam had not looked so much +interested. They ran back to the teepee, got their bows and arrows, +then, guided by Guy, who, however, kept back, they crawled to where he +had seen the Deer. + +"There--there, now, ain't he a Deer? There--see him move!" + +Yan's first feeling was a most exquisite thrill of pleasure. It was +like the uplift of joy he had had the time he got his book, but was +stronger. The savage impulse to kill came quickly, and his bow was in +his hand, but he hesitated. + +"Shoot! Shoot!" said Sam and Guy. + +Yan wondered why _they_ did not shoot. He turned, and in spite of +his agitation he saw that they were making fun of him. He glanced at +the Deer again, moved up a little closer and saw the trick. + +Then they hooted aloud. Yan was a little crestfallen. Oh, it had been +such an exquisite feeling! The drop was long and hard, but he rallied +quickly. + +"I'll shoot your Deer for you," he said, and sent an arrow close under +it. + +"Well, I kin beat that," and Sam and Guy both fired. Sam's arrow stuck +in the Deer's nose. At that he gave a yell; then all shot till the +head was stuck full of arrows, and they returned to the teepee to +get dinner. They were still chaffing Yan about the Deer when he said +slowly to Guy: + +"Generally you are not so smart as you think you are, but this time +you're smarter. You've given me a notion." + +So after dinner he got a sack about three feet long and stuffed it +full of dry grass; then he made a small sack about two and a half feet +long and six inches thick, but with an elbow in it and pointed at one +end. This he also stuffed with hay and sewed with a bone needle to the +big sack. Next he cut four sticks of soft pine for legs and put them +into the four corners of the big sack, wrapping them with bits of +sacking to be like the rest. Then he cut two ears out of flat sticks; +painted black eyes and nose with a ring of white around each, just as +Sappy had done, but finally added a black spot on each side of the +body, and around that a broad gray hand. Now he had completed what +every one could see was meant for a Deer. + +The other boys helped a little, but not did cease to chaff him. + +"Who's to be fooled this time?" asked Guy. + +"You," was the answer. + +"I'll bet you'll get buck fever the first time you come across it," +chuckled the Head Chief. + +"Maybe I will, but you'll all have a chance. Now you fellers stay here +and I'll hide the Deer. Wait till I come back." + +So Yan ran off northward with the dummy, then swung around to the east +and hid it at a place quite out of the line that he first took. He +returned nearly to where he came out, shouting "Ready!" + +Then the hunters sallied forth fully armed, and Yan explained: "First +to find it counts ten and has first shot. If he misses, next one can +walk up five steps and shoot; if he misses, next walks five steps +more, and so on until the Deer is hit. Then all the shooting must be +done from the place where that arrow was fired. A shot in the heart +counts ten; in the gray counts five; that's a body wound--and a hit +outside of that counts one--that's a scratch. If the Deer gets away +without a shot in the heart, then I count twenty-five, and the first +one to find it is Deer for next hunt--twelve shots each is the limit." + +The two hunters searched about for a long time. Sam made disparaging +remarks about the trail this Deer _did not_ leave, and Guy +sneaked and peaked in every thicket. + +Sappy was not an athlete nor an intellectual giant, but his little +piggy eyes were wonderfully sharp and clear. + +"I see him," he yelled presently, and pointed out the place +seventy-five yards away where he saw one ear and part of the head. + +"Tally ten for Sappy," and Yan marked it down. + +Guy was filled with pride at his success. He made elaborate +preparation to shoot, remarking, "I could 'a' seen it twicet as +far--if--if--if--it was--if I had a fair chance." + +He drew his bow and left fly. The arrow went little more than half +way. So Sam remarked, "Five steps up I kin go. It don't say nothing +about how long the steps?" + +"No." + +"Well, here goes," and he began the most wonderful Kangaroo hops that +he could do. He covered about thirty feet in those five steps, and by +swerving a little aside he got a good view of the Deer. He was now +less than sixty-five yards away. He fired and missed. Now Guy had the +right to walk up five steps. He also missed. Finally at thirty yards +Sam sent an arrow close past a tree, deep in the Deer's gray flank. + +"Bully shot! Body wound! Count five for the Great War Chief. All +shooting from this spot now," said Yan, "and I don't know why I +shouldn't shoot as well as the others." + +"Coz you're the Deer and that'd be suicide," was Sam's objection. "But +it's all right. You won't hit." + +The objection was not sustained, and Yan tried his luck also. Two or +three shots in the brown of the Deer's haunch, three or four into the +tree that stood half way between, but nearly in line, a shot or two +into the nose, then "Hooray!" a shot from Guy right into the Deer's +heart put an end to the chase. Now they went up to draw and count the +arrows. + +Guy was ahead with a heart shot, ten, a body wound, five, and a +scratch, one, that's sixteen, with ten more for finding it--twenty-six +points. Sam followed with two body wounds and two scratches--twelve +points, and Yan one body wound and five scratches--ten points. The +Deer looked like an old Porcupine when they came up to it, and Guy, +bursting with triumph, looked like a young Emperor. + +"I tell you it takes me to larn you fellers to Deer hunt. I'll bet +I'll hit him in the heart first thing next time." + +"I'll bet you won't, coz you'll be Deer and can't shoot till we both +have." + +Guy thought this the finest game he had ever played. He pranced away +with the dummy on his back, scheming as he went to make a puzzle for +the others. He hid the Deer in a dense thicket east of the camp, then +sneaked around to the west of the camp and yelled "Ready!" They had a +long, tedious search and had to give it up. + +"Now what to do? Who counts?" asked the Woodpecker. + +"When Deer escapes it counts twenty-five," replied the inventer of the +game; and again Guy was ahead. + +"This is the bulliest game I ever seen" was his ecstatic remark. + +"Seems to me there's something wrong; that Deer ought to have a +trail." + +"That's so," assented Yan. "Wonder if he couldn't drag an old root!" + +"If there was snow it'd be easy." + +"I'll tell you, Sam; we'll tear up paper and leave a paper trail." + +"Now you're talking." So all ran to camp. Every available scrap of +wrapping paper was torn up small and put in a "scent bag." + +Since no one found the Deer last time, Guy had the right to hide it +again. + +He made a very crooked trail and a very careful hide, so that the boys +nearly walked onto the Deer before they saw it about fifteen yards +away. Sam scored ten for the find. He fired and missed. Yan now +stepped up his five paces and fired so hastily that he also missed. +Guy now had a shot at it at five yards, and, of course, hit the Deer +in the heart. This succession of triumphs swelled his head nearly to +the bursting point, and his boasting passed all bounds. But it now +became clear that there must be a limit to the stepping up. So the new +rule was made, "No stepping up nearer than fifteen paces." + +The game grew as they followed it. Its resemblance to real hunting was +very marked. The boys found that they could follow the trail, or sweep +the woods with their eyes as they pleased, and find the game, but the +wisest way was a combination. Yan was too much for the trail, Sam +too much for the general lookout, but Guy seemed always in luck. His +little piglike eyes took in everything, and here at length he found a +department in which he could lead. It looked as though little pig-eyed +Guy was really cut out for a hunter. He made a number of very clever +hidings of the Deer. Once he led the trail to the pond, then, across, +and right opposite he put the Deer in full view, so that they saw it +at once in the open; they were obliged either to shoot across the +pond, or step farther away round the edge, or step into the deep +water, and again Guy scored. It was found necessary to bar hiding the +Deer on a ridge and among stones, because in one case arrows which +missed were lost in the bushes and in the other they were broken. + +They played this game so much that they soon found a new difficulty. +The woods were full of paper trails, and there was no means of +deciding which was the old and which the new. This threatened to end +the fun altogether. But Yan hit on the device of a different colour +of paper. This gave them a fresh start, but their supply was limited. +There was paper everywhere in the woods now, and it looked as though +the game was going to kill itself, when old Caleb came to pay them a +visit. He always happened round as though it was an accident, but the +boys were glad to see him, as he usually gave some help. + +"Ye got some game, I see," and the old man's eye twinkled as he noted +the dummy, now doing target duty on the forty-yard range. "Looks like +the real thing. Purty good--purty good." He chuckled as he learned +about the Deer hunt, and a sharp observer might have discerned a +slight increase of interest when he found that it was not Sam Raften +that was the "crack" hunter. + +"Good fur you, Guy Burns. Me an' your Paw hev hunted Deer together on +this very crik many a time." + +When he learned the difficulty about the scent, he said "Hm," and +puffed at his pipe for awhile in silence. Then at length: + +"Say, Yan, why don't you and Guy get a bag o' wheat or Injun corn for +scent: that's better than paper, an' what ye lay to-day is all clared +up by the birds and Squirrels by to-morrow." + +"Bully!" shouted Sam. (He had not been addressed at all, but he was +not thin-skinned.) Within ten minutes he had organized another "White +massacree"--that is, a raid on the home barn, and in half an hour he +returned with a peck of corn. + +"Now, lemme be Deer," said Caleb. "Give me five minutes' start, then +follow as fast as ye like. I'll show ye what a real Deer does." + +He strode away bearing the dummy, and in five minutes as they set out +on the trail he came striding back again. Oh, but that seemed a long +run. The boys followed the golden corn trail--a grain every ten feet +was about all they needed now, they were so expert. It was a straight +run for a time, then it circled back till it nearly cut itself again +(at X, page 298). The boys thought it did so, and claimed the right to +know, as on a real Deer trail you could tell. So Caleb said, "No, it +don't cut the old trail." Where, then, did it go? After beating about, +Sam said that the trail looked powerful heavy, like it might be +double. + +"Bet I know," said Guy. "He's doubled back," which was exactly what he +did do, though Caleb gave no sign. Yan looked back on the trail and +found where the new one had forked. Guy gave no heed to the ground +once he knew the general directions. He ran ahead (toward Y), so did +Sam, but Guy glanced back to Yan on the trail to make sure of the +line. + +They had not gone far beyond the nearest bushes before Yan found +another quirk in the trail. It doubled back at Z. He unravelled the +double, glanced around, and at O he plainly saw the Deer lying on +its side in the grass. He let off a triumphant yell, "Yi, yi, yi, +_Deer_!" and the others came running back just in time to see Yan +send an arrow straight into its heart. + + + + +VI + +WAR BONNET, TEEPEE AND COUPS + + +Forty yards and first shot. Well, that's what the Injuns would call a +'_grand coup_,' and Caleb's face wore the same pleasant look as +when he made the fire with rubbing-sticks. + +"What's a _grand coup?_" asked Little Beaver. + +"Oh, I suppose it's a big deed. The Injuns call a great feat a +'_coup_,' an' an extra big one a '_grand coup_.' Sounds like +French, an' maybe 'tis, but the Injuns says it. They had a regular way +of counting their _coup_, and for each they had the right to an +Eagle feather in their bonnet, with a red tuft of hair on the end for +the extra good ones. At least, they used to. I reckon now they're +forgetting it all, and any buck Injun wears just any feather he can +steal and stick in his head." + +"What do you think of our head-dresses?" Yan ventured. + +'Hm! You ain't never seen a real one or you wouldn't go at them that +way at all. First place, the feathers should all be white with black +tips, an' fastened not solid like that, but loose on a cap of soft +leather. Each feather, you see, has a leather loop lashed on the quill +end for a lace to run through and hold it to the cap, an' then a +string running through the middle of each feather to hold it--just so. +Then there are ways of marking each feather to show how it was got. +I mind once I was out on a war party with a lot of Santees--that's a +brand of Sioux--an' we done a lot o' sneaking an' stealing an' scalped +some of the enemy. Then we set out for home, and when we was still +about thirty miles away we sent on an Injun telegram of good luck. The +leader of our crowd set fire to the grass after he had sent two men +half a mile away on each side to do the same thing, an' up went three +big smokes. There is always some one watching round an Injun village, +an' you bet when they seen them three smokes they knowed that we wuz +a-coming back with scalps. + +"The hull Council come out to meet us, but not too reckless, coz this +might have been the trick of enemies to surprise them. + +"Well, when we got there, maybe there wasn't a racket. You see, we +didn't lose a man, and we brung in a hundred horses and seven scalps. +Our leader never said a word to the crowd, but went right up to the +Council teepee. He walked in--we followed. There was the Head Chief +an' all the Council settin' smoking. Our leader give the '_How_, +an' then we all '_Howed_.' Then we sat an' smoked, an' the Chief +called on our leader for an account of the little trip. He stood up +an' made a speech. + +"'Great Chief and Council of my Tribe,' says he. 'After we left the +village and the men had purified themselves, we travelled seven days +and came to the Little Muddy River. There we found the track of a +travelling band of Arapaho. In two days we found their camp, but +they were too strong for us, so we hid till night; then I went alone +into their camp and found that some of them were going off on a hunt +next day. As I left I met a lone warrior coming in. I killed him +with my knife. For that I claim a _coup_; and I scalped him--for +that I claim another _coup_; an' before I killed him I slapped his +face with my hand--for this I claim a _grand coup_; and I brought +his horse away with me--for that I claim another _coup_. Is it not +so,' sez he, turning to us, and we all yelled '_How! How! How!_' +For this fellow, 'Whooping Crane,' was awful good stuff. Then the +Council agreed that he should wear three Eagle feathers, the first +for killing and scalping the enemy in his own camp--that was a _grand +coup_, and the feather had a tuft of red hair on it an' a red spot on +the web. The next feather was for slapping the feller's face first, +which, of course, made it more risky. This Eagle feather had a red +tuft on top an' a red hand on the web; the one for stealing the horse +had a horseshoe, but no tuft, coz it wasn't counted A1. + +"Then the other Injuns made their claims, an' we all got some kind of +honours. I mind one feller was allowed to drag a Fox tail at each +heel when he danced, an' another had ten horseshoe marks on an Eagle +feather for stealing ten horses, an' I tell you them Injuns were +prouder of them feathers than a general would be of his medals." + + +[Illustration: The War Bonnet (See description below)] + + THE INDIAN WAR BONNET--HOW TO MAKE IT + + 1. The plain white Goose or Turkey feather. + + 2. The same, with tip dyed black or painted with indelible ink. + + 3. The same, showing ruff of white down lashed on with wax end. + + 4. The same, showing leather loop lashed on for the holding lace. + + 5. The same, viewed edge on. + + 6. The same, with a red flannel cover sewn and lashed on the + quill. This is a '_coup_ feather.' + + 7. The same, with a tuft of red horsehair lashed on the top to + mark a '_grand coup_' and (_a_) a thread through the + middle of the rib to hold feather in proper place. This feather is + marked with the symbol of a _grand coup_ in target shooting. + This symbol may be drawn on an oval piece of paper gummed on the + top of the feather. + + 8. The tip of a feather showing how the red horsehair tuft is + lashed on with fine waxed thread. + + 9. The groundwork of the war bonnet made of any soft leather, + (_a_) a broad band to go round the head, laced at the joint + or seam behind; (_b_) a broad tail behind as long as needed + to hold all the wearer's feathers; (_c_) two leather thongs + or straps over the top; (_d_) leather string to tie under the + chin; (_e_) the buttons, conchas or side ornaments of shells, + silver, horn or wooden discs, even small mirrors and circles + of beadwork were used, and sometimes the conchas were left out + altogether; they may have the owner's totem on them, usually a + bunch of ermine tails hung from each side of the bonnet just below + the concha. A bunch of horsehair will answer as well; (_hh_) + the holes in the leather for holding the lace of the feather; 24 + feathers are needed for the full bonnet, without the tail, so they + are put less than an inch apart; (_iii_) the lacing holes on + the tail: this is as long as the wearer's feathers call for; some + never have any tail. + + 10. Side view of the leather framework, showing a pattern + sometimes used to decorate the front. + + 11, 12 and 13. Beadwork designs for front band of bonnet; all have + white grounds. No. 11 (Arapaho) has green band at top and bottom + with red zigzag. No. 12 (Ogallala) has blue band at top and + bottom, red triangles; the concha is blue with three white bars + and is cut off from the band by a red bar. No. 13 (Sioux) has + narrow band above and broad band below blue, the triangle red, and + the two little stars blue with yellow centre. + + 14. The bases of three feathers, showing how the lace comes out + of the cap leather, through the eye or loop on the bottom of the + quill, and in again. + + 15. The completed bonnet, showing how the feathers of the crown + should spread out, also showing the thread that passes through the + middle of each feather on inner side to hold it in place; another + thread passes from the point where the two straps (_c_ in 9) + join, then down through each feather in the tail. + + The Indians now often use the crown of a soft felt hat for the + basis of a war bonnet. + + N.B. A much easier way to mark the feather is to stick on it near + the top an oval of white paper and on this draw the symbol with + waterproof ink. + + +[Illustration: Grand Coup for taking Scalp in Enemy's Camp G.C. for +slapping his face Coup for stealing his Horse] + +"My, I wish I could go out there and be with those fellows," and Yan +sighed as he compared his commonplace lot with all this romantic +splendour. + +"Guess you'd soon get sick of it. I know _I_ did," was the +answer; "forever shooting and killing, never at peace, never more than +three meals ahead of starvation and just as often three meals behind. +No, siree, no more for me." + +"I'd just like to see you start in horse-stealing for honours round +here," observed Sam, "though I know who'd get the feathers if it was +chicken stealing." + +"Say, Caleb," said Guy, who, being friendly and of the country, never +thought of calling the old man "Mr. Clark," "didn't they give feathers +for good Deer-hunting? I'll bet I could lick any of them at it if I +had a gun." + +"Didn't you hear me say first thing that that there shot o' Yan's +should score a '_grand coup_'?" + +"Oh, shucks! I kin lick Yan any time; that was just a chance shot. +I'll bet if you give feathers for Deer-hunting I'll get them all." + +"We'll take you up on that," said the oldest Chief, but the next +interrupted: + +"Say, boys, we want to play Injun properly. Let's get Mr. Clark to +show us how to make a real war bonnet. Then we'll wear only what +feathers we win." + +"Ye mean by scalping the Whites an' horse-stealing?" + +"Oh, no; there's lots of things we can do--best runner, best Deer +hunter, best swimmer, best shot with bow and arrows." + +"All right." So they set about questioning Caleb. He soon showed them +how to put a war bonnet together, using, in spite of Yan's misgivings, +the crown of an old felt hat for the ground work and white goose +quills trimmed and dyed black at the tips for Eagle feathers. But when +it came to the deeds that were to be rewarded, each one had his own +ideas. + +"If Sappy will go to the orchard and pick a peck of cherries without +old Cap gettin' _him_, I'll give him a feather with all sorts of +fixin's on it," suggested Sam. + +"Well, I'll bet you can't get a chicken out of our barn 'thout our Dog +gettin' _you_, Mr. Smarty." + +"Pooh! I ain't stealing chickens. Do you take me for a nigger? I'm a +noble Red-man and Head Chief at that, I want you to know, an' I've a +notion to collect that scalp you're wearin' now. You know it belongs +to me and Yan," and he sidled over, rolling his eye and working his +fingers in a way that upset Guy's composure. "And I tell you a feller +with one foot in the grave should have his thoughts on seriouser +things than chicken-stealing. This yere morbid cravin' for excitement +is rooinin' all the young fellers nowadays." + +Yan happened to glance at Caleb. He was gazing off at nothing, but +there was a twinkle in his eye that Yan never before saw there. + +"Let's go to the teepee. It's too hot out here. Come in, won't you, +Mr. Clark?" + +"Hm. 'Tain't much cooler in here, even if it is shady," remarked the +old Trapper. "Ye ought to lift one side of the canvas and get some +air." + +"Why, did the real Injuns do that?" + +"I should say they did. There ain't any way they didn't turn and twist +the teepee for comfort. That's what makes it so good. Ye kin live in +it forty below zero an' fifty 'bove suffocation an' still be happy. +It's the changeablest kind of a layout for livin' in. Real hot weather +the thing looks like a spider with skirts on and held high, an' I tell +you ye got to know the weather for a teepee. Many a hot night on the +plains I've been woke up by hearing 'Tap-tap-tap' all around me in the +still black night and wondered why all the squaws was working, but +they was up to drop the cover and drive all the pegs deeper, an' +within a half hour there never failed to come up a big storm. How they +knew it was a-comin' I never could tell. One old woman said a Coyote +told her, an' maybe that's true, for they do change their song for +trouble ahead; another said it was the flowers lookin' queer at +sundown, an' another had a bad dream. Maybe they're all true; it comes +o' watchin' little things." + +"Do they never get fooled?" asked Little Beaver + +'Oncet in awhile, but not near as often as a White-man would. + +"I mind once seeing an artist chap, one of them there portygraf +takers. He come out to the village with a machine an' took some of the +little teepees. Then I said, 'Why don't you get Bull-calf's squaw to +put up their big teepee? I tell you that's a howler.' So off he goes, +and after dickering awhile he got the squaw to put it up for three +dollars. You bet it was a stunner, sure--all painted red, with green +an' yaller--animals an' birds an' scalps galore. It made that +feller's eyes bug out to see it. He started in to make some +portygrafs, then was taking another by hand, so as to get the colours, +an' I bet it would have crowded him to do it, but jest when he got +a-going the old squaw yelled to the other--the Chief hed two of +them--an' lighted out to take down that there teepee. That artist he +hollered to stop, said he had hired it to stay up an' a bargain was a +bargain. But the old squaw she jest kept on a-jabberin' an' pintin' at +the west. Pretty soon they had the hull thing down and rolled up an' +that artist a-cussin' like a cow-puncher. Well, I mind it was a fine +day, but awful hot, an' before five minutes there come a little dark +cloud in the west, then in ten minutes come a-whoopin' a regular small +cyclone, an' it went through that village and wrecked all the teepees +of any size. That red one would surely have gone only for that smart +old squaw." + +[Illustration: Bull-Calf's Teepee.] + +Under Caleb's directions the breezy side of the cover was now raised a +little, and the shady side much more. This changed the teepee from a +stifling hothouse into a cool, breezy shade. + +"An' when ye want to know which way is the wind, if it's light, ye wet +your finger so, an' hold it up. The windy side feels cool at once, and +by that ye can set your smoke-flaps." + +"I want to know about war bonnets," Yan now put in. "I mean about +things to do to wear feathers--that is, things _we_ can do." + +"Ye kin have races, an' swimmin' an bownarrer shootin'. I should say +if you kin send one o' them arrers two hundred yards that would kill a +Buffalo at twenty feet. I'd think that was pretty good. Yes, I'd call +that way up." + +"What--a _grand coup?_" + +"Yes, I reckon; an' if you fell short on'y fifty yards that'd still +kill a Deer, an' we could call that a _coup_. If," continued +Caleb, "you kin hit that old gunny-sack buck plunk in the heart at +fifty yards first shot I'd call that away up; an' if you hit it at +seventy-five yards in the heart no matter how many tries, I'd call +you a shot. If you kin hit a nine-inch bull's-eye two out of three at +forty yards every time an' no fluke, you'd hold your own among Injuns +though I must say they don't go in much for shooting at a target. They +shoot at 'most anything they see in the woods. I've seen the little +copper-coloured kids shooting away at butterflies. Then they have +matches--they try who can have most arrers in the air at one time. To +have five in the air at once is considered good. It means powerful +fast work and far shooting. You got to hold a bunch handy in the left +hand fur that. The most I ever seen one man have up at once was eight. +That was reckoned 'big medicine,' an' any one that can keep up seven +is considered swell." + +"Do you know any other things besides bows and arrows that would do?" + +"I think that a rubbing-stick fire ought to count," interrupted Sam. +"I want that in coz Guy can't do it. Any one who kin do it at all gets +a feather, an' any one who kin do it in one minute gets a swagger +feather, or whatever you call it; that takes care of Yan and me an' +leaves Guy out in the cold." + +"I'll bet I kin hunt Deer all round you both, I kin." + +"Oh, shut up, Sappy; we're tired a-hearing about your Deer hunting. +We're going to abolish that game." Then Sam continued, apparently +addressing Caleb, "Do you know any Injun games?" + +But Caleb took no notice. + +Presently Yan said, "Don't the Injuns play games, Mr. Clark? + +"Well, yes, I kin show you two Injun games that will test your +eyesight." + +"I bet I kin beat any one at it," Guy made haste to tell. "Why, I seen +that Deer before Yan could--" + +"Oh, shut up, Guy," Yan now exclaimed. A peculiar +sound--"_Wheet--wheet--wheet_"--made Sappy turn. He saw Sam with +an immense knife, whetting it most vigorously and casting a hungry, +fishy glance from time to time to the "yaller moss-tuft" on Guy's neck. + +[Illustration: Archery Coup Feathers Their Special Marks Target Coup +Feather Long-distance Five-in-air-at once] + +"Time has came," he said to nobody in particular. + +"You better let me alone," whined Guy, for that horrible +"_wheet--wheet_" jarred his nerves somehow. He looked toward Yan, +and seeing, as he thought, the suggestion of a smile, he felt +more comfortable, but a glance at Sam dispelled his comfort; the +Woodpecker's face was absolutely inscrutable and perfectly demoniac +with paint. + +"Why don't you whet up, Little Beaver? Don't you want your share?" +asked the Head Chief through his teeth. + +"I vote we let him wear it till he brags again about his Deer-hunting. +Then off she comes to the bone," was the reply. "Tell us about the +Injun game, Mr. Clark." + +"I pretty near forget it now, but le's see. They make two squares on +the ground or on two skins; each one is cut up in twenty-five smaller +squares with lines like that. Then they have, say, ten rings an' ten +nuts or pebbles. One player takes five rings an' five nuts an' sets +them around on the squares of one set, an' don't let the other see +till all is ready; then the other turns an' looks at it while some one +else sings a little song that one of the boys turned into: + + "'Ki yi ya--ki yi yee, + You think yer smart as ye kin be, + You think yer awful quick to see + But yer not too quick for me, + Ki yi ya--ki yi yee.' + +"Then the first square is covered with a basket or anything and the +second player must cover the other skin with counters just the same +from memory. For every counter he gets on the right square he counts +one, and loses one for each on the wrong square." + +"I'll bet I kin----" Guy began, but Sam's hand gripped his moss-tuft. + +"Here, you let me alone. I ain't bragging. I'm only telling the simple +truth." + +"Ugh! Better tell some simple lies, then--much safer," said the Great +Woodpecker, with horrid calm and meaning. "If ever I lift that scalp +you'll catch cold and die, do ye know it?" + +Again Yan could see that Caleb had to look far away to avoid taking an +apparent interest. + +"There's another game. I don't know as it's Injun, but it's the kind +o' game where an Injun _could_ win. They first made two six-inch +squares of white wood or card, then on each they made rings like a +target or squares like the quicksight game, or else two Rabbits the +same on each. One feller takes six spots of black, half an inch +across, an' sticks them on one, scattering anyhow, an' sets it up a +hundred yards off; another feller takes same number of spots an' the +other Rabbit an' walks up till he can see to fix his Rabbit the same. +If he kin do it at seventy-five yards he's a swell; if he kin do it at +sixty yards he's away up, but less than fifty yards is no good. I seen +the boys have lots o' fun out o' it. They try to fool each other every +way, putting one spot right on another or leaving some off. It's a +sure 'nough test of good eyes." + +"I'll bet--" began Sappy again, but a loud savage "Grrrr" from +Sam, who knew perfectly well what was coming, put a stop to the bet, +whatever it was. + +"There was two other Injun tests of eyes that I mind now. Some old +Buck would show the youngsters the Pleiades--them's the little stars +that the Injuns call the Bunch--an' ask 'How many kin you see?' Some +could sho'ly see five or six an' some could make out seven. Them as +sees seven is mighty well off for eyes. Ye can't see the Pleiades +now--they belong to the winter nights; but you kin see the Dipper the +hull year round, turning about the North Star. The Injuns call this +the 'Broken Back,' an' I've heard the old fellers ask the boys: 'You +see the Old Squaw--that's the star, second from the end, the one at +the bend of the handle--well, she has a papoose on her back. Kin you +see the papoose?' an' sure enough, when my eyes was real good I could +see the little baby star tucked in by the big un. It's a mighty good +test of eyes if you kin see that." + +"Eh--" began Guy. + +But "Grrrrrrrrr" from Sam stopped him in time. Again Caleb's eyes +wandered afar. Then he stepped out of the teepee and Yan heard him +mutter, "Consarn that whelp, he makes me laugh spite o' myself." +He went off a little way into the woods and presently called "Yan! +Guy! Come here." All three ran out. "Talking about eyes, what's +that?" An opening in the foliage gave a glimpse of the distant +Burns's clover field. "Looks like a small Bear." + +"Woodchuck! That's our Woodchuck! That's the ole sinner that throwed +Paw off'n the mower. Where's my bone-arrer?" and Guy went for his +weapons. + +The boys ran for the fence of the clover field, going more cautiously +as they came near. Still the old Woodchuck heard something and sat up +erect on his haunches. He was a monster, and out on the smooth clover +field he did look like a very small Bear. His chestnut breast was +curiously relieved by his unusually gray back and head. + +"Paw says it's his sins as turned his head gray. He's a hoary headed +sinner, an' he ain't repented o' none o' them so far, but _I'm_ +after him now." + +"Hold on! Start even!" said Sam, seeing that Guy was prepared to +shoot. + +So all drew together, standing in a row like an old picture of the +battle of Crecy. The arrows scattered about the Woodchuck. Most went +much too far, none went near because he was closer than they had +supposed, but he scuttled away into his hole, there, no doubt, to plan +a new trap for the man with the mower. + + + + +VII + +Campercraft + + +"How'd you sleep, Sam?" + +"Didn't sleep a durn bit." + +"Neither did I. I was shivering all night. I got up an' put the spare +blanket on, but it didn't do any good." + +"Wonder if there was a chills-and-fever fog or something?" + +"How'd you find it, Sappy?" + +"All right." + +"Didn't smell any fog?" + +"Nope." + +The next night it was even worse. Guy slept placidly, if noisily, but +Sam and Yan tumbled about and shivered for hours. In the morning at +dawn Sam sat up. + +"Well, I tell you this is no joke. Fun's fun, but if I am going to +have the shivers every night I'm going home while I'm able." + +Yan said nothing. He was very glum. He felt much as Sam did, but was +less ready to give up the outing. + +Their blues were nearly dispelled when the warm sun came up, but still +they dreaded the coming night. + +"Wonder what it is," said Little Beaver. + +"'Pears to me powerful like chills and fever and then again it don't. +Maybe we drink too much swamp water. I believe we're p'isoned with +Guy's cooking." + +"More like getting scurvy from too much meat. Let's ask Caleb." + +Caleb came around that afternoon or they would have gone after him. +He heard Yan's story in silence, then, "Have ye sunned your blankets +sense ye came?" + +"No." + +Caleb went into the teepee, felt the blankets, then grunted: "H-m! +Jest so. They're nigh soppin'. You turn in night after night an' sweat +an' sweat in them blankets an' wonder why they're damp. Hain't you +seen your ma air the blankets every day at home? Every Injun squaw +knows that much, an' every other day at least she gives the blankets a +sun roast for three hours in the middle of the day, or, failing that, +dries them at the fire. Dry out your blankets and you won't have no +more chills." + +The boys set about it at once, and that night they experienced again +the sweet, warm sleep of healthy youth. + +There was another lesson they had to learn in campercraft. The +Mosquitoes were always more or less of a plague. At night they forced +the boys into the teepee, but they soon learned to smudge the insects +with a wad of green grass on the hot fire. This they would throw on +at sundown, then go outside, closing the teepee tight and eat supper +around the cooking fire. After that was over they would cautiously +open the teepee to find the grass all gone and the fire low, a dense +cloud of smoke still in the upper part, but below it clear air. +They would then brush off the Mosquitoes that had alighted on their +clothes, crawl into the lodge and close the door tight. Not a Mosquito +was left alive in it, and the smoke hanging about the smoke-vent was +enough to keep them from coming in, and so they slept in peace. Thus +they could baffle the worst pest of the woods. But there was yet +another destroyer of comfort by day, and this was the Blue-bottle +flies. There seemed more of them as time went on, and they laid masses +of yellowish eggs on anything that smelled like meat or corruption. +They buzzed about the table and got into the dishes; their dead, +drowned and mangled bodies were polluting all the food, till Caleb +remarked during one of his ever-increasing visits: "It's your own +fault. Look at all the filth ye leave scattered about." + +There was no blinking the fact; for fifty feet around the teepee the +ground was strewn with scraps of paper, tins and food. To one side +was a mass of potato peelings, bones, fish-scales and filth, and +everywhere were the buzzing flies, to be plagues all day, till at +sundown the Mosquitoes relieved them and took the night shift of the +office of torment. + +"I want to learn, especially if it's Injun," said Little Beaver. "What +had we best do?" + +"Wall, first ye could move camp; second, ye could clean this." + +As there was no other available camp ground they had no choice, and +Yan said with energy: "Boys, we got to clean this and keep it clean, +too. We'll dig a hole for everything that won't burn." + +So Yan seized the spade and began to dig in the bushes not far from +the teepee. Sam and Guy were gradually drawn in. They began gathering +all the rubbish and threw it into the hole. As they tumbled in bones, +tins and scraps of bread Yan said: "I just hate to see that bread go +in. It doesn't seem right when there's so many living things would be +glad to get it." + +At this, Caleb, who was sitting on a log placidly smoking, said: + +"Now, if ye want to be real Injun, ye gather all the eatables ye don't +want--meat, bread and anything, an' every day put it on some +high place. Most generally the Injuns has a rock--they call it +_Wakan_; that means sacred medicine--an' there they leave scraps +of food to please the good spirits. Av coorse it's the birds and +Squirrels gets it all; but the Injun is content as long as it's gone, +an' if ye argy with them that 'tain't the spirits gets it, but the +birds, they say: 'That doesn't matter. The birds couldn't get it if +the spirits didn't want them to have it,' or maybe the birds took it +to carry to the spirits!" + +Then the Grand Council went out in a body to seek the _Wakan +Rock_. They found a good one in the open part of the woods, and it +became a daily duty of one to carry the remnants of food to the rock. +They were probably less acceptable to the wood creatures than they +would have been half a year later, but they soon found that there were +many birds glad to eat at the _Wakan_; and moreover, that before +long there was a trail from the brook, only twenty-five yards away, +that told of four-foots also enjoying the bounty of the good spirits. + +Within three days of this the plague of Bluebottles was over, and the +boys realized that, judging by its effects, the keeping of a dirty +camp is a crime. + +One other thing old Caleb insisted on: "Yan," said he, "you didn't +ought to drink that creek water now; it ain't hardly runnin'. The sun +hez it het up, an' it's gettin' too crawly to be healthy." + +"Well, what are we going to do?" said Sam, though he might as well +have addressed the brook itself. + +"What can we do, Mr. Clark?" + +"Dig a well!" + +"Phew! We're out here for fun!" was Sam's reply. + +"Dig an Injun well," Caleb said. "Half an hour will do it. Here, I'll +show you." + +He took the spade and, seeking a dry spot, about twenty feet from the +upper end of the pond he dug a hole some two feet square. By the time +he was down three feet the water was oozing in fast. He got it down +about four feet and then had to stop, on account of inflow. He took a +bucket and bailed the muddy stuff out right to the bottom, and let it +fill up to be again bailed out. After three bailings the water came in +cold, sweet, and pure as crystal. + +"There," said he, "that water is from your pond, but it is filtered +through twenty feet of earth and sand. That's the way to get cool, +pure water out of the dirtiest of swamps. That's an Injun well." + + + + +VIII + +The Indian Drum + + "Oh, that hair of horse and skin of sheep should + Have such power to move the souls of men." + + +"If you were real Injun you'd make a drum of that," said Caleb to +Yan, as they came to a Basswood blown over by a recent storm and now +showing its weakness, for it was quite hollow--a mere shell. + +"How do they do it? I want to know how." + +"Get me the axe." + +Yan ran for the axe. Caleb cut out a straight unbroken section about +two feet long. This they carried to camp. + +"Coorse ye know," said Caleb, "ye can't have a drum without skins for +heads." + +"What kind of skins?" + +"Oh, Horse, Dog, Cow, Calf--'most any kind that's strong enough." + +"I got a Calfskin in our barn, an' I know where there's another in the +shed, but it's all chawed up with Rats. Them's mine. I killed them +Calves. Paw give me the skins for killin' an' skinnin' them. Oh, you +jest ought to see me kill a Calf--" + +Guy was going off into one of his autopanegyrics when Sam who was now +being rubbed on a sore place, gave a "Whoop!" and grabbed the tow-tuft +with a jerk that sent the Third War Chief sprawling and ended the +panegyric in the usual volley of "you-let-me-'lones." + +"Oh, quit, Sam," objected Little Beaver. "You can't stop a Dog +barking. It's his nature." Then to Guy: "Never mind, Guy; you are not +hurt. I'll bet you can beat him hunting Deer, and you can see twice as +far as he can." + +"Yes, I kin; that's what makes him so mad. I'll bet I kin see three +times as far--maybe five times," was the answer in injured tones. + +"Go on now, Guy, and get the skins--that is, if you want a drum for +the war dance. You're the only one in the crowd that's man enough to +make the raise of a hide," and fired by this flattery, Guy sped away. + +Meanwhile Caleb worked on the hollow log. He trimmed off the bark, +then with the hatchet he cleared out all the punk and splinters +inside. He made a fire on the ground in the middle of the drum-log as +it stood on end, and watching carefully, he lifted it off from time to +time and chopped away all the charred parts, smoothing and trimming +till he had the log down thin and smooth within and without. They +heard Guy shouting soon after he left. They thought him near at hand, +but he did not come. Trimming the drum-log took a couple of hours, and +still Guy did not return. The remark from Caleb, "'Bout ready for the +skins now!" called from Sam the explanation, "Guess Old Man Burns +snapped him up and put him to weeding the garden. Probably that was +him we heard gettin' licked." + +"Old Man Burns" was a poor and shiftless character, a thin, +stoop-shouldered man. He was only thirty-five years of age, but, being +married, that was enough to secure for him the title "Old Man." In +Sanger, if Tom Nolan was a bachelor at eighty years of age he would +still be Tom Nolan, "wan of the bhoys," but if he married at twenty he +at once became "Old Man Nolan." + +Mrs. Burns had produced the usual string of tow-tops, but several had +died, the charitable neighbours said of starvation, leaving Guy, the +eldest, his mother's darling, then a gap and four little girls, four, +three, two and one years of age. She was a fat, fair, easy-going +person, with a general sense of antagonism to her husband, who was, +of course, the natural enemy of the children. Jim Burns cherished the +ideal of bringing "that boy" up right--that is, getting all the work +he could out of him--and Guy clung to his own ideal of doing as little +work as possible. In this clash of ideals Guy's mother was his firm, +though more or less secret, ally. He was without fault in her eyes: +all that he did was right. His freckled visage and pudgy face were +types of noble beauty, standards of comeliness and human excellence; +his ways were ways of pleasantness and all his paths were peace; +Margat Burns was sure of it. + +Burns had a good deal of natural affection, but he was erratic; +sometimes he would flog Guy mercilessly for nothing, and again laugh +at some serious misdeed, so that the boy never knew just what to +expect, and kept on the safe side by avoiding his "Paw" as much as +possible. His visits to the camp had been thoroughly disapproved, +partly because it was on Old Man Raften's land and partly because it +enabled Guy to dodge the chores. Burns had been quite violent about it +once or twice, but Mrs. Burns had the great advantage of persistence, +and like the steady strain of the skilful angler on the slender line, +it wins in the end against the erratic violence of the strongest +trout. She had managed then that Guy should join the Injun camp, and +gloried in his outrageously exaggerated accounts of how he could lick +them all at anything, "though they wuz so much older'n bigger'n he +wuz." + +But on this day he was fallen in hard luck. His father saw him coming, +met him with a "gad" and lashed him furiously. Knowing perfectly well +that the flogging would not stop till the proper effect was produced, +and that was to be gauged by the racket, Guy yelled his loudest. This +was the uproar the boys had heard. + +"Now, ye idle young scut! I'll larn ye to go round leaving bars down. +You go an' tend to your work." So instead of hiking back gloriously +laden with Calfskins, Guy was sent to ignominious and un-Injun toil in +the garden. + +Soon he heard his mother: "Guysie, Guysie." He dropped his hoe and +walked to the kitchen. + +"Where you goin'?" roared his father from afar. "Go back and mind your +work." + +"Maw wants me. She called me." + +"You mind your work. Don't you dar' on your life to go thayer." + +But Guy took no notice and walked on to his mother. He knew that at +this post-thrashing stage of wrath his father was mouthy and harmless, +and soon he was happy eating a huge piece of bread and jam. + +"Poor dear, you must be hungry, an' your Paw was so mean to +you. There, now, don't cry," for Guy began to weep again at the +recollection of his wrongs. Then she whispered confidentially: "Paw's +going to Downey's this afternoon, an' you can slip away as soon as +he's gone, an' if you work well before that he won't be so awful mad +after you come back. But be sure you don't let down the bars, coz if +the pig was to get in Raften's woods dear knows what." + +This was the reason of Guy's delay. He did not return to camp with the +skins till late that day. As soon as he was gone, his foolish, doting +mother, already crushed with the burden of the house, left everything +and hoed two or three extra rows of cabbages, so "Paw" should find a +great showing of work when he came back. + +The Calfskins were hard as tin and, of course, had the hair on. + +Caleb remarked, "It'll take two or three days to get them right," and +buried them in a marshy, muddy pool in the full sunlight. "The warmer +the better." + +Three days later he took them out. Instead of being thin, hard, +yellow, semi-transparent, they now were much thicker, densely white, +and soft as silk. The hair was easily scraped off and the two pieces +were pronounced all right for drumheads. + +Caleb washed them thoroughly in warm water, with soap to clear off +the grease, scraping them on both sides with a blunt knife; then he +straightened the outer edge of the largest, and cut a thin strip +round and round it till he had some sixty feet of rawhide line, about +three-quarters of an inch wide. This he twisted, rolled and stretched +until it was nearly round, then he cut from the remainder a circular +piece thirty inches across, and a second from the "unchawed" part of +the other skin. He laid these one on the other, and with the sharp +point of a knife he made a row of holes in both, one inch from the +edge and two inches apart. Then he set one skin on the ground, the +drum-log on that and the other skin on the top, and bound them +together with the long lace, running it from hole No. 1 on the top +to No. 2 on the bottom, then to No. 3 on the top, and No. 4 on the +bottom, and so on twice around, till every hole had a lace through it +and the crossing laces made a diamond pattern all around. At first +this was done loosely, but tightened up when once around, and +finally both the drum-heads were drawn tense. To the surprise of all, +Guy promptly took possession of the finished drum. "Them's my +Calfskins," which, of course, was true. + +And Caleb said, with a twinkle in his eye, "The wood _seems_ to +go with the skins." + +A drumstick of wood, with a piece of sacking lashed on to soften it, +was made, and Guy was disgusted to find how little sound the drum gave +out. + +"'Bout like pounding a fur cap with a lamb's tail," Sam thought. + +"You hang that up in the shade to dry and you'll find a change," said +the Trapper. + +It was quite curious to note the effect of the drying as the hours +went by. The drum seemed to be wracking and straining itself in +the agony of effort, and slight noises came from it at times. When +perfectly dry the semi-transparency of the rawhide came back, and the +sound now was one to thrill the Red-man's heart. + +Caleb taught them a little Indian war chant, and they danced round +to it as he drummed and sang, till their savage instincts seemed to +revive. But above all it worked on Yan. As he pranced around in step +his whole nature seemed to respond; he felt himself a part of that +dance. It was in himself; it thrilled him through and through and sent +his blood exulting. He would gladly have given up all the White-man's +"glorious gains" to live with the feeling called up by that Indian +drum. + + + + +IX + +The Cat And The Skunk + + +Sam was away on a "massacree" to get some bread. Guy had been trapped +by his natural enemy and was serving a term of hard labour in the +garden; so Yan was alone in camp. He went around the various mud +albums, but discovered nothing new, except the fact that tracks were +getting more numerous. There were small Skunk and Mink tracks with the +large ones now. As he came by the brush fence at the end of the blazed +trail he saw a dainty little Yellow Warbler feeding a great lubberly +young Cow-bird that, evidently, it had brought up. He had often heard +that the Cow-bird habitually "plays Cuckoo" and leaves its egg in the +nest of another bird, but this was the first time he had actually +seen anything of it with his own eyes. As he watched the awkward +mud-coloured Cow-bird flutter its ungrown wings and beg help from the +brilliant little Warbler, less than half its size, he wondered whether +the fond mother really was fooled into thinking it her own young, or +whether she did it simply out of compassion for the foundling. He now +turned down creek to the lower mud album, and was puzzled by a new +track like this. + +[Illustration: Track of small mud turtle] + +He sketched it, but before the drawing was done it dawned on him that +this must be the track of a young Mud-turtle. He also saw a lot of +very familiar tracks, not a few being those of the common Cat, and he +wondered why they should be about so much and yet so rarely seen. Of +course the animals were chiefly nocturnal, but the boys were partly +so, and always on the ground now, so that explanation was not +satisfactory. He lay down on his breast at the edge of the brook, +which had here cut in a channel with steep clay walls six feet high +and twenty feet apart. The stream was very small now--a mere thread +of water zigzagging over the level muddy floor of the "cañon," as Yan +loved to call it. A broad, muddy margin at each side of the water made +a fine place of record for the travelling Four-foots, and tracks new +and old were there in abundance. + +The herbage on the bank was very rank and full of noisy Grasshoppers +and Crickets. Great masses of orange Jewelweed on one side were +variegated with some wonderful Cardinal flowers. Yan viewed all this +with placid content. He knew their names now, and thus they were +transferred from the list of tantalizing mysteries to that of engaging +and wonderful friends. As he lay there on his breast his thoughts +wandered back to the days when he did not know the names of any +flowers or birds--when all was strange and he alone in his hunger to +know them, and Bonnerton came back to him with new, strange force of +reminder. His father and mother, his brother and schoolmates were +there. It seemed like a bygone existence, though only two months ago. +He had written his mother to tell of his arrival, and once since to +say that he was well. He had received a kind letter from his mother, +with a scripture text or two, and a postscript from his father with +some sound advice and more scripture texts. Since then he had not +written. He could not comprehend how he could so completely drift +away, and yet clearly it was because he had found here in Sanger the +well for which he had thirsted. + +As he lay there thinking, a slight movement nearer the creek caught +his eye. A large Basswood had been blown down. Like most of its kind, +it was hollow. Its trunk was buried in the tangle of rank summer +growth, but a branch had been broken off and left a hole in the main +stem. In the black cavern of the hole there appeared a head with +shining green eyes, then out there glided onto the log a common gray +Cat. She sat there in the sunshine, licked her paws, dressed her fur +generally, stretched her claws and legs after the manner of her kind, +walked to the end of the log, then down the easy slope to the bottom +of the cañon. Here she took a drink, daintily shook the water from +her paws, and set the hair just right with a stroke. Then to Yan's +amusement she examined all the tracks much as he had done, though it +seemed clear that her nose, not her eyes, was judge. She walked down +stream, leaving some very fine impressions that Yan mentally resolved +to have in his note-book, very soon suddenly stopped, looked upward +and around, a living picture of elegance, sleekness and grace, with +eyes of green fire then deliberately leaped from the creek bed to the +tangle of the bank and disappeared. + +This seemed a very commonplace happening, but the fact of a house Cat +taking to the woods lent her unusual interest, and Yan felt much of +the thrill that a truly wild animal would have given him, and had gone +far enough in art to find exquisite pleasure in the series of pictures +the Cat had presented to his eyes. + +He lay there for some minutes expecting her to reappear; then far up +the creek he heard slight rattling of the gravel. He turned and saw, +not the Cat, but a very different and somewhat larger animal. Low, +thick-set, jet black, with white marks and an immense bushy tail--Yan +recognized the Skunk at once, although he had never before met a wild +one in daylight. It came at a deliberate waddle, nosing this way and +that. It rounded the bend and was nearly opposite Yan, when three +little Skunks of this year's brood came toddling after the mother. + +The old one examined the tracks much as the Cat had done, and Yan got +a singular sense of brotherhood in seeing the wild things at his own +study. + +Then the old Skunk came to the fresh tracks of the Cat and paused so +long to smell them that the three young ones came up and joined in. +One of the young ones went to the bank where the Cat came down. As it +blew its little nose over the fresh scent, the old Skunk waddled to +the place, became quite interested, then climbed the bank. The little +ones followed in a disjointed procession, varied by one of them +tumbling backward from the steep trail. + +The old Skunk reached the top of the bank, then mounted the log and +followed unerringly the Cat's back trail to the hole in the trunk. +Down this she peered a minute, then, sniffing, walked in, till nothing +could be seen but her tail. Now Yan heard loud, shrill mewing from the +log, "_Mew, mew, m-e-u-w, m-e-e-u-w,"_ and the old Skunk came +backing out, holding a small gray Kitten. + +The little thing mewed and spit energetically, holding on to the +inside of the log. But the old Skunk was too strong--she dragged it +out. Then holding it down with both paws, she got a good firm grip +of its neck and turned to carry it down to the bed of the brook. +The Kitten struggled vigorously, and at last got its claws into the +Skunk's eye and gave such a wrench that the ill-smelling villain +loosened its hold a little and so gave the Kitten another chance to +squeal, which it did with a will, putting all its strength into a +succession of heartrending _mee-ow--mee-ows._ Yan's heart +was touched. He was about to dash to the rescue when there was a +scrambling in the far grass, a rush of gray, and the Cat--the old +mother Cat was on the scene, a picture of demon rage, eyes ablaze, fur +erect, ears back. With the spring of a Deer and the courage of a Lion +she made for the black murderer. Eye could not follow the flashings +of her paws. The Skunk recoiled and stared stupidly, but not long; +nothing was "long" about it. Her every superb muscle was tingling with +force and mad with hate as the mother Cat closed like a swooping +Falcon. The Skunk had no time to aim that dreadful gun, and in the +excitement fired a volley of the deadly musky spray backward, +drenching her own young as they huddled in the trail. + +[Illustration: "The Cat and the Skunk"] + +Tooth and claw and deadly grip--the old Cat raged and tore, the black +fur flew in every direction, and the Skunk for once lost her head and +fired random shots of choking spray that drenched herself as well as +the Cat. The Skunk's head and neck were terribly torn. The air was +suffocating with the poisonous musk. The Skunk was desperately wounded +and threw herself backward into the water. Blinded and choking, though +scarcely bleeding, the old Cat would have followed even there, but the +Kitten, wedged under the log, mewed piteously and stayed the mother's +fury. She dragged it out unharmed but drenched with musk and carried +it quickly to the den in the hollow log, then came out again and stood +erect, blinking her blazing eyes--for they were burning with the +spray--lashing her tail, the image of a Tigress eager to fight either +part or all the world for the little ones she nursed. But the old +Skunk had had more than enough. She scrambled off down the cañon. Her +three young ones had tumbled over each other to get out of the way +when they got that first accidental charge of their mother's battery. +She waddled away, leaving a trail of blood and smell, and they waddled +after, leaving an odour just as strong. + +[Illustration: "The old Cat raged and tore"] + +Yan was thrilled by the desperate fight of the heroic old Cat. Her +whole race went up higher in his esteem that day; and the fact that +the house Cat really could take to the woods and there maintain +herself by hunting was all that was needed to give her a place in his +list of animal heroes. + +Pussy walked uneasily up and down the log, from the hole where the +Kittens were to the end overlooking the cañon. She blinked very hard +and was evidently suffering severely, but Yan knew quite well that +there was no animal on earth big enough or strong enough to frighten +that Cat from her post at the door of her home. There is no courage +more indomitable than that of a mother Cat who is guarding her young. + +At length all danger of attack seemed over, and Pussy, shaking her +paws and wiping her eyes, glided into her hole. Oh, what a shock it +must have been to the poor Kittens, though partly prepared by their +brother's unsavoury coming back. There was the mother, whose return +had always been heralded by a delicious odour of fresh Mouse or bird, +interwoven with a loving and friendly odour of Cat, that was in itself +a promise of happiness. Scent is the main thing in Cat life, and now +the hole was darkened by a creature that was rank with every nasal +guarantee of deadly enmity. Little wonder that they all fled puffing +and spitting to the dark corners. It was a hard case; all the little +stomachs were upset for a long time. They could do nothing but make +the best of it and get used to it. The den never smelt any better +while they were there, and even after they grew up and lived elsewhere +many storms passed overhead before the last of the Skunk smell left +them. + + + + +X + +THE ADVENTURES OF A SQUIRREL FAMILY + + +"I'll bet I kin make a Woodpecker come out of that hole," said +Sapwood, one day as the three Red-men proceeded, bow in hand, through +a far corner of Burns's Bush. He pointed to a hole in the top of a +tall dead stub, then going near he struck the stub a couple of heavy +blows with a pole. To the surprise of all there flew out, not a +Woodpecker, but a Flying Squirrel. It scrambled to the top of the +stub, looked this way and that, then spread its legs, wings and tail +and sailed downward, to rise slightly at the end of its flight against +a tree some twenty feet away. Yan bounded to catch it. His fingers +clutched on its furry back, but he got such a cut from its sharp teeth +that he was glad to let it go. It scrambled up the far side of the +trunk and soon was lost in the branches. + +Guy was quite satisfied that he had carried out his promise of +bringing a Woodpecker out of the hole, "For ain't a Flying Squirrel a +kind of Woodpecker?" he argued. He was, in consequence, very "cocky" +the rest of the day, proposing to produce a Squirrel whenever they +came to a stub with a hole in it, and at length, after many failures, +had the satisfaction of driving a belated Woodpecker out of its nest. + +The plan was evidently a good one for discovering living creatures. +Yan promptly adopted it, and picking up a big stick as they drew near +another stub with holes, he gave three or four heavy thumps. A Red +Squirrel scrambled out of a lower hole and hid in an upper one; +another sharp blow made it pop out and jump to the top of the stub, +but eventually back into the lower hole. + +The boys became much excited. They hammered the stub now without +making the Squirrel reappear. + +"Let's cut it down," said Little Beaver. + +"Show you a better trick than that," replied the Woodpecker. He looked +about and got a pole some twenty feet long. This he placed against a +rough place high up on the stub and gave it a violent push, watching +carefully the head of the stub. Yes! It swayed just a little. Sam +repeated the push, careful to keep time with the stub and push always +just as it began to swing away from him. The other boys took hold of +the pole and all pushed together, as Sam called, "Now--now--now--" + +A single push of 300 or 400 pounds would scarcely have moved the stub, +but these little fifty-pound pushes at just the right time made it +give more and more, and after three or four minutes the roots, that +had begun to crack, gave way with a craunching sound, and down crashed +the great stub. Its hollow top struck across a fallen log and burst +open in a shower of dust, splinters and rotten wood. The boys rushed +to the spot to catch the Squirrel, if possible. It did not scramble +out as they expected it would, even when they turned over the +fragments. They found the front of the stub with the old Woodpecker +hole in it, and under that was a mass of finely shredded cedar bark, +evidently a nest. Yan eagerly turned it over, and there lay the Red +Squirrel, quite still and unharmed apparently, but at the end of her +nose was a single drop of blood. Close beside her were five little +Squirrels, evidently a very late brood, for they were naked, blind and +helpless. One of them had at its nose a drop of blood and it lay as +still as the mother. At first the hunters thought the old one was +playing 'Possum, but the stiffness of death soon set in. + +Now the boys felt very guilty and sorry. By thoughtlessly giving way +to their hunting instincts they had killed a harmless mother Squirrel +in the act of protecting her young, and the surviving little ones had +no prospect but starvation. + +Yan had been the most active in the chase, and now was far more +conscience-stricken than either of the others. + +"What are we going to do with them?" asked the Woodpecker. "They are +too young to be raised for pets." + +"Better drown them and be done with them," suggested Sappy, recalling +the last honours of several broods of Kittens at home. + +"I wish we could find another Squirrel's nest to put them into," +said Little Beaver remorsefully, and then as he looked at the four +squirming, helpless things in his hand the tears of repentance filled +his eyes. "We might as well kill them and end their misery. We can't +find another Squirrel's nest so late as this." But after a little +silence he added, "I know some one who will put them out of pain. She +may as well have them. She'd get them anyway, and that's the old gray +wild Cat. Let's put them in her nest when she's away." + +This seemed a reasonable, simple and merciful way of getting rid of +the orphans. So the boys made for the "cañon" part of the brook. At +one time of the afternoon the sun shone so as to show plainly all that +was in the hole. The boys went very quietly to Yan's lookout bank, and +seeing that only the Kittens were there, Yan crept across and dropped +the young Squirrels into the nest, then went back to his friends to +watch, like Miriam, the fate of the foundlings. + +They had a full hour to wait for the old Cat, and as they were very +still all that time they were rewarded with a sight of many pretty +wild things. + +A Humming-bird "boomed" into view and hung in a misty globe of wings +before one Jewel-flower after another. + +"Say, Beaver, you said Humming-birds was something or other awful +beautiful," said Woodpecker, pointing to the dull grayish-green bird +before them. + +"And I say so yet. Look at that," as, with a turn in the air, the +hanging Hummer changed its jet-black throat to flame and scarlet that +silenced the critic. + +After the Humming-bird went away a Field-mouse was seen for a moment +dodging about in the grass, and shortly afterward a Shrew-mole, not so +big as the Mouse, was seen in hot pursuit on its trail. + +Later a short-legged brown animal, as big as a Rabbit, came nosing up +the dry but shady bed of the brook, and as it went beneath them Yan +recognized by its little Beaver-like head and scaly oar-shaped tail +that it was a Muskrat, apparently seeking for water. + +There was plenty in the swimming-pond yet, and the boys realized that +this had become a gathering place for those wild things that were +"drowned out by the drought," as Sam put it. + +The Muskrat had not gone more than twenty minutes before another +deep-brown animal appeared. "Another Muskrat; must be a meeting," +whispered the Woodpecker. But this one, coming close, proved a very +different creature. As long as a Cat, but lower, with broad, flat head +and white chin and throat, short legs, in shape a huge Weasel, there +was no mistaking it; this was a Mink, the deadly enemy of the Muskrat, +and now on the track of its prey. It rapidly turned the corner, nosing +the trail like a Hound. If it overtook the Muskrat before it got to +the pond there would be a tragedy. If the Muskrat reached the deep +water it might possibly escape. But just as sure as the pond became a +gathering place for Muskrats it would also become a gathering place +for Mink. + +Not five minutes had gone since the Mink went by before a silent gray +form flashed upon the log opposite. Oh, how sleek and elegant it +looked! What perfection of grace she seemed after the waddling, hunchy +Muskrat and the quick but lumbering Mink. There is nothing more supple +and elegant than a fine Cat, and men of science the world over have +taken the Cat as the standard of perfection in animal make-up. Pussy +glanced about for danger. She had brought no bird or Mouse, for the +Kittens were yet too young for such training. The boys watched her +with intensest interest. She glided along the log to the hole--the +Skunk-smelling hole--uttered her low "_purrow, purrow_," that +always sets the hungry Kittens agog, and was curling in around them, +when she discovered the pink Squirrel-babies among her own. She +stopped licking the nearest Kitten, stared at a young Squirrel, and +smelled it. Yan wondered what help that could be when everything +smelled of Skunk. But it did seem to decide her, for she licked it +a moment, then lying down she gathered them all in her four-legged +embrace, turned her chin up in the air and Sappy announced gleefully +that "The little Squirrels were feeding with the little Cats." + +The boys waited a while longer, then having made sure that the little +Squirrels had been lovingly adopted by their natural enemy, they went +quietly back to camp. Now they found a daily pleasure in watching the +mixed family. + +And here it may be as well to give the rest of the story. The old gray +Cat faithfully and lovingly nursed those foundlings. They seemed +to prosper, and Yan, recalling that he had heard of a Cat actually +raising a brood of Rabbits, looked forward to the day when Kittens +and Squirrelets should romp together in the sun. After a week Sappy +maintained that only one Squirrel appeared at the breakfast table, and +in ten days none. Yan stole over to the log and learned the truth. All +four were dead in the bottom of the nest. There was nothing to tell +why. The old Cat had done her best--had been all love and tenderness, +but evidently had not been able to carry out her motherly intentions. + +[Illustration: Four tiny headstones] + + + + +XI + +HOW TO SEE THE WOODFOLK + + +The days went merrily now, beginning each morning with a hunting of +the Woodchuck. The boys were on terms of friendship with the woods +that contrasted strongly with the feelings of that first night. + +This was the thought in Sam's mind when he one day remarked, "Say, +Yan, do you remember the night I slep' with the axe an' you with the +hatchet?" + +The Indians had learned to meet and conquer all the petty annoyances +of camp life, and so forgot them. Their daily routine was simplified. +Their acquaintance with woodfolk and wood-ways had grown so fast +that now they were truly at home. The ringing "_Kow_--_Kow_--_Kow_" +in the tree-tops was no longer a mere wandering voice, but the +summer song of the Black-billed Cuckoo. The loud, rattling, birdy +whistle in the low trees during dull weather Yan had traced to the +Tree-frog. + +The long-drawn "_Pee--re-e-e-e"_ of hot afternoons was the call +of the Wood-peewee, and a vast number of mysterious squeaks and +warbles had been traced home to the ever-bright and mischievous Blue +Jay. + +The nesting season was now over, as well as the song season; the birds, +therefore, were less to be seen, but the drying of the streams had +concentrated much life in the swimming-pond. The fence had been +arranged so that the cattle could reach one end of it to drink, but +the lower parts were safe from their clumsy feet, and wild life of +many kinds were there in abundance. + +The Muskrats were to be seen every evening in the calm pool, and fish +in great numbers were in the deeper parts. Though they were small, +the boys found them so numerous and so ready to bite that fishing was +great sport, and more than one good meal they had from that pond. +There were things of interest discovered daily. In a neighbour's field +Sam had found another Woodchuck with a "price on his head." Rabbits +began to come about the camp at night, especially when the moon was +bright, and frequently of late they had heard a querulous, yelping +bark that Caleb said was made by a Fox "probably that old rascal that +lives in Callahan's woods." + +The gray Cat in the log was always interesting. The boys went very +regularly to watch from a distance, but for good reasons did not go +near. First, they did not wish to scare her; second, they knew that if +they went too close she would not hesitate to attack them. + +One of the important lessons that Yan learned was this. In the woods +_the silent watcher sees the most_. The great difficulty in +watching was how to pass the time, and the solution was to sit and +_sketch._ Reading would have done had books been at hand, but +not so well as sketching, because then the eyes are fixed on the book +instead of the woods, and the turning of the white pages is apt to +alarm the shy woodfolk. + +Thus Yan put in many hours making drawings of things about the edge of +the pond. + +[Illustration: Kingfisher] + +As he sat one day in stillness a Minnow leaped from the water and +caught a Fly. Almost immediately a Kingfisher that had been shooting +past stopped in air, hovered, and darting downward, came up with a +Minnow in his beak, flew to a branch to swallow its prey, but no +sooner got there when a Chicken-hawk flashed out of a thick tree, +struck the Kingfisher with both feet and bore him downward to the +bank--in a moment would have killed him, but a long, brown creature +rushed from a hole in the bank and sprang on the struggling pair, to +change the scene in a twinkling. The three stragglers separated, the +Hawk to the left, the Kingfisher to the right, the Minnow flopped back +into the pool, and the Mink was left on the shore with a mouthful of +feathers and looking very foolish. As it stood shaking the down from +its nose another animal came gliding down through the shrubbery to the +shore--the old gray Cat. The Mink wrinkled up his nose, showed two +rows of sharp teeth and snarled in a furious manner, but backed off +under a lot of roots. The Cat laid down her ears; the fur on her back +and tail stood up; she crouched a little, her eyes blazing and the end +of her tail twitching, and she answered the snarling of the Mink with +a low growl. The Mink was evidently threatening "sudden death" to the +Cat, and Pussy evidently was not much impressed. The Mink retreated +farther under the roots till nothing but the green glowing of his eyes +was to be seen, and the Cat, coming forward, walked calmly by his +hiding-place and went about her business. The snarling under the root +died away, and as soon as his enemy was gone the Mink dived into the +water and was lost to view. + +These two animals had a second meeting, as Yan had the luck to witness +from his watching-place. He had heard the "plop" of a deft plunge, and +looked in time only to see the spreading rings near the shore. Then +the water was ruffled far up in the pond. A brown spot showed and was +gone. A second appeared, to vanish as the first had done. Later, a +Muskrat crawled out on the shore, waddled along for twenty feet, then, +plunging in, swam below, came up at the other bank, and crawled under +a lot of overhanging roots. A minute later the Mink appeared, his hair +all plastered close till he looked like a four-legged Snake. He landed +where the Muskrat had come out, followed the trail so that it was +lost, then galloped up and down the shore, plunged in, swam across, +and beat about the other shore. At last he struck the trail and +followed. Under the root there were sounds of a struggle, the snarling +of the mink, and in two or three minutes he appeared dragging out the +body of the Muskrat. He sucked its blood and was eating the brains +when again the gray Cat came prowling up the edge of the pond and, +not ten feet off, stood face to face with the Mink, as she had done +before. + +The Water Weasel saw his enemy but made no attempt to escape from +her. He stood with forepaws on his victim and snarling a warning and +defiance to the Cat. Pussy, after glaring for a few seconds, leaped +lightly to the high bank, passed above the Mink, then farther on +leaped down, and resumed her journey up the shore. + +Why should the Mink fear the Cat the first time, and the Cat the Mink +the second? Yan believed that ordinarily the Cat could "lick," +but that now the Mink had right on his side; he was defending his +property, and the Cat, knowing that, avoided a quarrel; whereas the +same Cat would have faced a thousand Mink in defense of her Kittens. + +These two scenes did not happen the same day, but are told together +because Yan always told them together afterward to show that the +animals understand something of right and wrong. + +But later Yan had another experience with the Muskrats. He and Sam +were smoothing out the lower album for the night, when a long stream +of water came briskly down the middle of the creek bed, which had been +dry for more than a week. + +"Hallo," said Woodpecker, "where's that from?" + +"A leak in the dam," said Little Beaver, with fear in his voice. + +The boys ran up to the dam and learned that the guess was right. +The water had found an escape round the end of the dam, and a close +examination showed that it had been made by a burrowing Muskrat. + +It was no little job to get it tightly closed up. But the spade was +handy, and a close-driven row of stakes with plenty of stiff clay +packed behind not only stopped the leak but gave a guarantee that in +future that corner at least would be safe. + +When Caleb heard of the Muskrat mischief he said: + +"Now ye know why the Beavers are always so dead sore on the Muskrats. +They know the Rats are liable to spoil their dams any time, so they +kill them whenever they get the chance." + +Little Beaver rarely watched an hour without seeing something of +interest in the swamp. The other warriors had not the patience to wait +so long and they were not able to make a pastime of sketching. + +Yan made several hiding-places where he found that living things were +most likely to be seen. Just below the dam was a little pool where +various Crawfish and thread-like Eels abounding proved very attractive +to Kingfisher and Crow, while little Tip-ups or Teetering Snipe would +wiggle their latter end on the level dam, or late in the day the +never-failing Muskrat would crawl out on a flat stone and sit like +a fur cap. The cañon part of the creek was another successful +hiding-place, but the very best was at the upper end of the pond, for +the simple reason that it gave a view of more different kinds of land. +First the water with Muskrats and occasionally a Mink, next the little +marsh, always there, but greatly increased now by the back-up of the +water. Here one or two Field-mice and a pair of Sora Rails were at +home. Close at hand was the thick woods, where Partridges and Black +Squirrels were sometimes seen. + +Yan was here one day sketching the trunk of a Hemlock to pass the +watching time, but also because he had learned to love that old tree. +He never sketched because he loved sketching; he did not; the motive +always was love of the thing he was drawing. + +A Black-and-white Creeper had crawled like a Lizard over all the +trunks in sight. A Downy Woodpecker had digged a worm out of a log by +labour that most birds would have thought ill-paid by a dozen such +worms. A Chipmunk had come nearer and nearer till it had actually run +over his foot and then scurried away chattering in dismay at its +own rashness; finally, a preposterous little Cock Chickadee sang +"_Spring soon_--_spring soon_," as though any one were interested in +the gratuitous and unconvincing fib, when a brown, furry form hopped +noiselessly from the green leaves by the pond, skipped over a narrow +bay without wetting its feet, paused once or twice, then in the middle +of the open glade it sat up in plain view--a Rabbit. It sat so long +and so still that Yan first made a sketch that took three of four +minutes, then got out his watch and timed it for three minutes longer +before it moved in the least. Then it fed for some time, and Yan +tried to make a list of the things it ate and the things it shunned, +but could not do so with certainty. + +A noisy Flicker came out and alighted close by on a dried branch. The +Rabbit, or really a Northern Hare, "froze"--that is, became perfectly +still for a moment--but the Flicker marks were easy to read and had +long ago been learned as the uniform of a friend, so the Rabbit +resumed his meal, and when the Flicker flew again he paid no heed. +A Crow passed over, and yet another. "No; no danger from them." A +Red-shouldered Hawk wailed in the woods; the Rabbit heard that and +every other sound, but the Red-shoulder is not dangerous, and he knew +it. A large Hawk with _red tail_ circled silently over the glade, +and the Rabbit froze on the instant. That same red tail was the mark +of a dreaded foe. How well Bunny had learned to know them all! + +A bunch of clover tempted him to a full repast, after which he hopped +into a tussock in the midst of the glade and there turned himself into +a moss-bump, his legs swallowed up in his fur, and his ears laid over +his back like a pair of empty gloves or a couple of rounded shingles; +his nose-wabblings reduced in number, and he seemed to be sleeping in +the last warm rays of the sun. Yan was very anxious to see whether his +eyes were open or not; he had been told that Rabbits sleep with +open eyes, but at this distance he could not be sure. He had no +field-glass and Guy was not at hand, so the point remained in doubt. + +The last sun-blots had gone from the trail and the pond was all +shadowed by the trees on the western side. A Robin began its evening +hymn on a tall tree, where it could see the red sun going down, and a +Veery was trilling his _weary, weary, weary_ in the Elder thicket +along the brook, when another, a larger animal, loomed up in the +distant trail and glided silently toward Yan. Its head was low and he +could not make out what it was. As it stood there for a few seconds +Yan wet his finger in his mouth and held it up. A slight coolness on +the side next the coming creature told Yan that the breeze was from it +to him and would not betray him. It came on, seeming to grow larger, +turned a little to one side, and then Yan saw plainly by the sharp +nose and ears and the bushy tail that it was nothing less than a Fox, +probably the one that often barked near camp at night. + +It was trotting away at an angle, knowing nothing of the watching boy +nor of the crouching Rabbit, when Yan, merely to get a better look at +the cunning one, put the back of his hand to his mouth and by sucking +made a slight Mouse-like squeak, sweetest music, potent spellbinder, +to a hungry Fox, and he turned like a flash. For a moment he stood, +head erect, full of poise and force in curb; a second squeak--he came +slowly back toward the sound and in so doing passed between Yan and +the Rabbit. He had crossed its old trail without feeling much +interest, but now the breeze brought its _body scent_. Instantly the +Fox gave up the Mouse hunt--no hunter goes after Mice when big game is +at hand--and began an elaborate and beautiful stalk of the Rabbit--the +Rabbit that he had not seen. But his nose was his best guide. He +cautiously zigzagged up the wind, picking his steps with the greatest +care, and pointing with his nose like a Pointer Dog. Each step was +bringing him nearer to Bunny as it slept or seemed asleep in the +tussock. Yan wondered whether he ought not to shout out and end the +stalk before the Rabbit was caught, but as a naturalist he was eager +to see the whole thing out and learn how the Fox would make the +capture. The red-furred gentleman was now within fifteen feet of the +tussock and still the gray one moved not. Now he was within twelve +feet--and no move; ten feet--and Bunny seemed in tranquil sleep; eight +feet--and now the Fox for the first time seemed to actually see his +victim. Yan had hard work to keep from shouting a warning; six +feet--and now the Fox was plainly preparing for a final spring. + +"Is it right to let him?" and Yan's heart beat with excitement. + +The Fox brought his feet well under him, tried the footing till it +was perfect, gathered all his force, then with silent, vicious energy +sprung straight for the sleeper. Sleeping? Oh, no! Not at all. Bunny +was playing his own game. The moment the Fox leaped, he leaped with +equal vigour the opposite way and out under his enemy, so Reynard +landed on the empty bunch of grass. Again he sprang, but the Rabbit +had rebounded like a ball in the other direction, and continued this +bewildering succession of marvellous erratic hops. The Fox in vain +tried to keep up, for these wonderful side jumps are the Rabbit's +strength and the Fox's weakness; and Bunny went zigzag--hop--skip-- +into the thicket and was gone before the Fox could get his heavier +body under speed at all. + +Had the Rabbit bounded out as soon as he saw the Fox coming he might +have betrayed himself unnecessarily; had he gone straight away when +the Fox leaped for him he might have been caught in three or four +leaps, for the enemy was under full speed, but by biding his time he +had courted no danger, and when it did come he had played the only +possible offset, and "lives in the greenwood still." + +The Fox had to seek his supper somewhere else, and Yan went to camp +happy in having learned another of the secrets of the woods. + + + + +XII + +Indian Signs And Getting Lost + + +"What do you mean when you say Indian signs, Mr. Clark?" + +"Pretty near anything that shows there's Injuns round: a moccasin +track, a smell of smoke, a twig bent, a village, one stone a-top of +another or a white settlement scalped and burned--they all are Injun +signs. They all mean something, and the Injuns read them an' make +them, too, jest as you would writing." + +"You remember the other day you told us three smokes meant you were +coming back with scalps." + +"Well, no; it don't har'ly mean that. It means 'Good news'--that is, +with some tribes. Different tribes uses 'em different." + +"Well, what does one smoke mean?" + +"As a rule just simply '_Camp is here_'" + +"And two smokes?" + +"Two smokes means '_Trouble_'--may mean, _'I am lost.'_" + +"I'll remember that; _double for trouble_." + +"Three means good news. _There's luck in odd numbers_." + +"And what is four?" + +"Well, it ain't har'ly ever used. If I seen four smokes in camp I'd +know _something big_ was on--maybe a Grand Council." + +"Well, if you saw five smokes what would you think?" + +"I'd think some blame fool was settin' the hull place a-blaze," Caleb +replied with the sniff end of a laugh. + +"Just now you said one stone on another was a sign. What does it +mean?" + +"Course I can't speak for all Injuns. Some has it for one thing an' +some for another, but usually in the West two stones or 'Buffalo +chips' settin' one on the other means 'This is the trail'; and a +little stone at the left of the two would mean 'Here we turned off to +the left'; and at the other side, 'Here we turned to the right.' Three +stones settin' one on top of another means, 'This is sure enough the +trail,' 'Special' or 'Particular' or 'Look out'; an' a pile of stones +just throwed together means 'We camped here 'cause some one was sick.' +They'd be the stones used for giving the sick one a steam bath." + +"Well, what would they do if there were no stones?" + +"Ye mean in the woods?" + +"Yes, or smooth prairie." + +"Well, I pretty near forget, it's so long ago, but le's see now," and +Yan worried Caleb and Caleb threshed his memory till they got out a +general scheme, or Indian code, though Caleb was careful to say that +"some Injuns done it differently." + +[Illustration: INDIAN SIGNS] + +Yan must needs set about making a signal fire at once, and was +disappointed to find that a hundred yards away the smoke could not be +seen above the tree-tops, till Caleb showed him the difference between +a clear fire and a smoke or smudge fire. + +"Begin with a clear fire to get the heat, then smother it with green +grass and rotten wood. There, now you see the difference," and a great +crooked, angling pillar of smoke rolled upward as soon as the grass +and punk began to sizzle in the glow of embers. + +"I bet ye kin see that ten miles away if ye'r on a high place to look +for it." + +"I bet I could see it twenty miles," chirped in Guy. + +"Mr. Clark, were you ever lost?" continued the tireless asker. + +"Why, course I was, an' more than once. Every one that goes in the +woods is bound to get lost once in awhile." + +"What--do the Indians?" + +"Of course! Why not? They're human, an' I tell you when you hear a man +brag that he never was lost, I know he never was far from his mother's +apron string. Every one is bound to get lost, but the real woodsman +gets out all right; that's the difference." + +"Well, what would you do if you got lost?" + +"Depends on where. If it was a country that I didn't know, and I had +friends in camp, after I'd tried my best I'd jest set right down and +make two smoke fires. 'Course, if I was alone I'd try to make a bee +line in the likeliest direction, an' this is easy to make if ye kin +see the sun and stars, but stormy weather 'tain't possible. No man kin +do it, an' if ye don't know the country ye have to follow some stream; +but I'm sorry for ye if ever ye have to do that, for it's the worst +walking on earth. It will surely bring ye out some place--that is, it +will keep ye from walking in a circle--but ye can't make more than +four or five miles a day on it." + +[Illustration: "The Two Smokes"] + +"Can't you get your direction from moss on the tree trunks?" + +"_Naw!_ Jest try it an' see; moss on the north side of a tree +and rock; biggest branches on the south of a trunk; top of a Hemlock +pointing to east; the biggest rings of growth on the south side of +a stump, an' so on. It fits a tree standin' out by itself in the +open--the biggest ring is in the south, but it don't fit a tree on the +south side of an opening; then the biggest rings is on the north. If +ye have a compass in hand it's all kind o' half true--that is, just +a little bit true; but it ain't true; it's on'y a big lie, when ye'r +scared out o' your wits an' needin' to know. I never seen but one good +compass plant, an' that was the prairie Golden Rod. Get a bunch of +them in the open and the most of them point north, but under cover of +taller truck they jest point every which way for Sunday. + +"If ye find a beaten game trail, ye follow that an it'll bring ye to +water--that is, if ye go the right way, an' that ye know by its gettin' +stronger. If it's peterin' out, ye'r goin' in the wrong direction. A +flock of Ducks or a Loon going over is sure to be pointing for water. +Y're safe to follow. + +"If ye have a Dog or a Horse with ye he kin bring ye home all right. +Never knew them to fail but oncet, an' that was a fool Horse; there is +sech oncet in awhile, though there's more fool Dogs. + +"But come right down to it, the compass is the safest thing. The sun +and stars is next, an' if ye know your friends will come ye'r best +plan is to set right down and make two smoke fires, keep them a-going, +holler every little while, and keep calm. Ye won't come to no harm +unless ye'r a blame fool, an' such ought to stay to hum, where they'll +be nursed." + + + + +XIII + +Tanning Skins and Making Moccasins + + +Sam had made a find. A Calf had been killed and its skin hung limp on +a beam in the barn. His father allowed him to carry this off, and now +he appeared with a "fresh Buffalo hide to make a robe." + +"I don't know how the Injuns dress their robes," he explained, +"but Caleb does, and he'll tell you, and, of course, I'll pay no +attention." + +The old Trapper had nothing to do, and the only bright spots in his +lonely life, since his own door was shut in his face, were visits +to the camp. These had become daily, so it was taken as a matter of +course when, within an hour after Sam's return, he "happened round." + +"How do the Indians tan furs and robes?" Yan asked at once. + +"Wall, different ways--" + +But before he could say more Hawkeye reappeared and shouted: + +"Say, boys, Paw's old Horse died!" and he grinned joyfully, merely +because he was the bearer of news. + +"Sappy, you grin so much your back teeth is gettin' sunburned," and +the Head Chief eyed him sadly. + +"Well, it's so, an' I'm going to skin out his tail for a scalp. I bet +I'll be the Injunest one of the crowd." + +"Why don't you skin the hull thing, an' I'll show you how to make lots +of Injun things of the hide," Caleb added, as he lighted his pipe. + +"Will you help me? + +"It's same as skinnin a Calf. I'll show you where to get the sewing +sinew after the hide's off." + +So the whole camp went to Burns's field. Guy hung back and hid when he +saw his father there drawing the dead Horse away with the plough team. + +"Good-day, Jim," was Caleb's greeting, for they were good friends. +"Struck hard luck with the Horse?" + +"No! Not much. Didn't cost nothing; got him for boot in a swap. Glad +he's dead, for he was foundered." + +"We want his skin, if you don't." + +"You're welcome to the hull thing." + +"Well, just draw it over by the line fence we'll bury what's left when +we're through." + +"All right. You hain't seen that durn boy o' mine, have you?" + +"Why, yes; I seen him not long ago," said Sam. "He was p'inting right +for home then." + +"H-m. Maybe I'll find him at the house." + +"Maybe you will." Then Sam added under his breath, "I don't think." + +So Burns left them, and a few minutes later Guy sneaked out of the +woods to take a secondary part in the proceedings. + +Caleb showed them how to split the skin along the under side of each +leg and up the belly. It was slow work skinning, but not so unpleasant +as Yan feared, since the animal was fresh. + +Caleb did the most of the work; Sam and Yan helped. Guy assisted with +reminiscences of his own Calf-skinning and with suggestions drawn from +his vast experiences. + +When the upper half of the skin was off, Caleb remarked: "Don't +believe we can turn him over, and when the Injuns didn't have a Horse +at hand to turn over the Buffalo they used to cut the skin in two down +the line of the back. I guess we better do that. We've got all the +rawhide we need, anyhow." + +So they cut off the half they had skinned, took the tail and the mane +for "scalps," and then Caleb sent Yan for the axe and a pail. + +He cut out a lump of liver and the brains of the Horse. "That," said +he, "is for tanning, an' here is where the Injun woman gits her sewing +thread." + +He made a deep cut alongside the back bone from the middle of the back +to the loin, then forcing his fingers under a broad band of whitish +fibrous tissue, he raised it up, working and cutting till it ran down +to the hip bone and forward to the ribs. This sewing sinew was about +four inches wide, very thin, and could easily be split again and again +till it was like fine thread. + +"There," he said, "is a hank o' thread. Keep that. It'll dry up, but +can be split at any time, and soaking in warm water for twenty minutes +makes it soft and ready for use. Usually, when she's sewing, the squaw +keeps a thread soaking in her mouth to be ready. Now we've got a Horse +skin and a Calfskin I guess we better set up a tan-yard." + +"Well, how do you tan furs, Mr. Clark?" + +"Good many different ways. Sometimes just scrape and scrape till I get +all the grease and meat off the inside, then coat it with alum and +salt and leave it rolled up for a couple of days till the alum has +struck through and made the skin white at the roots of the hair, then +when this is half dry pull and work it till it is all soft. + +"But the Injuns don't have alum and salt, and they make a fine tan out +of the liver and brains, like I'm going to do with this." + +"Well, I want to do it the Indian way." + +"All right, you take the brains and liver of your Calf." + +"Why not some of the Horse brains and liver?" + +"Oh, I dunno. They never do it that way that I've seen. Seems like it +went best with its own brains." + +"Now," remarked the philosophical Woodpecker, "I call that a wonderful +provision of nature, always to put Calf brains and liver into a +Calfskin, and just enough to tan it." + +"First thing always is to clean your pelt, and while you do that I'll +put the Horsehide in the mud to soak off the hair." He put it in the +warm mud to soak there a couple of days, just as he had done the +Calfskin for the drum-heads, then came to superintend the dressing of +the Buffalo "robe." + +Sam first went home for the Calf brains and liver, then he and Yan +scraped the skin till they got out a vast quantity of grease, leaving +the flesh side bluish-white and clammy, but not greasy to the touch. +The liver of the Calf was boiled for an hour and then mashed up with +the raw brains into a tanning "dope" or mash and spread on the flesh +side of the hide, which was doubled, rolled up and put in a cool place +for two days. It was then opened out, washed clean in the brook and +hung till nearly dry. Then Caleb cut a hardwood stake to a sharp edge +and showed Yan how to pull and work the hide over the edge till it was +all soft and leathery. + +The treatment of the Horsehide was the same, once the hair was +removed, but the greater thickness needed a longer soaking in the "tan +dope." + +After two days the Trapper scraped it clean and worked it on the +sharp-edged stake. It soon began to look like leather, except in one +or two spots. On examining these he said: + +"H-m, Tanning didn't strike right through every place. So he buttered +it again with the mash and gave it a day more; then worked it as +before over the angle of the pole till it was soft and fibrous. + +"There," said he, "that's Injun tan leather. I have seen it done by +soaking the hide for a few days in liquor made by boiling Hemlock or +Balsam bark in water till it's like brown ink, but it ain't any better +than that. Now it needs one thing more to keep it from hardening after +being wet. It has to be smoked." + +So he made a smoke fire by smothering a clear fire with rotten wood; +then fastening the Horsehide into a cone with a few wooden pins, he +hung it in the dense smoke for a couple of hours, first one side out, +then the other till it was all of a rich smoky-tan colour and had the +smell so well known to those who handle Indian leather. + +"There it is; that's Injun tan, an' I hope you see that elbow grease +is the main thing in tannin'." + +"Now, will you show us how to make moccasins and war-shirts?" asked +Little Beaver, with his usual enthusiasm. + +"Well, the moccasins is easy, but I won't promise about the +war-shirts. That's pretty much a case of following the pattern of your +own coat, with the front in one piece, but cut down just far enough +for your head to go through, instead of all the way, and fixed with +tie-strings at the throat and fringes at the seams and at the bottom; +it hain't easy to do. But any one kin larn to make moccasins. There is +two styles of them--that is, two main styles. Every Tribe has its own +make, and an Injun can tell what language another speaks as soon as +he sees his footgear. The two best known are the Ojibwa, with soft +sole--sole and upper all in one, an' a puckered instep--that's what +Ojibwa means--'puckered moccasin.' The other style is the one most +used in the Plains. You see, they have to wear a hard sole, 'cause the +country is full of cactus and thorns as well as sharp stones." + +"I want the Sioux style. We have copied their teepee and war +bonnet--and the Sioux are the best Indians, anyway." + +"Or the worst, according to what side you're on," was Caleb's reply. +But he went on: "Sioux Injuns are Plains Injuns and wear a hard sole. +Let's see, now. I'll cut you a pair." + +"No, make them for _me_. It's my Horse," said Guy. + +"No, you don't. Your Paw give that to me." Caleb's tone said plainly +that Guy's laziness had made a bad impression, so he had to stand +aside while Yan was measured. Caleb had saved a part of the hide +untanned though thoroughly cleaned. This was soaked in warm water till +soft. Yan's foot was placed on it and a line drawn around the foot +for a guide; this when cut out made the sole of one moccasin (A, cut +below), and by turning it underside up it served as pattern to cut the +other. + +Now Caleb measured the length of the foot and added one inch, and +the width across the instep, adding half an inch, and with these as +greatest length and breadth cut out a piece of soft leather (B). Then +in this he made the cut _a b_ on the middle line one way and _c +d_ on the middle line the other way. A second piece the reverse of +this was cut, and next a piece of soft leather for inside tongue (C) +was sewn to the large piece (B), so that the edge _a b_ of C was +fast to _a b_ of B. A second piece was sewn to the other leather +(B reversed). + +"Them's your vamps for uppers. Now's the time to bead 'em if you want +to." + +"Don't know how." + +"Well, I can't larn you that; that's a woman's work. But I kin show +you the pattern of the first pair I ever wore; I ain't likely to +forget 'em, for I killed the Buffalo myself and seen the hull making." +He might have added that he subsequently married the squaw, but he did +not. + +"There's about the style" [D]. "Them three-cornered red and white +things all round is the hills where the moccasins was to carry me +safely; on the heel is a little blue pathway with nothing in it: that +is behind--it's past. On the instep is three red, white and blue +pathways where the moccasin was to take me: they're ahead--in the +future. Each path has lots of things in it, mostly changes and trails, +an' all three ends in an Eagle feather--that stands for an honour. Ye +kin paint them that way after they're made. Well, now, we'll sew on +the upper with a good thick strand of sinew in the needle--or if you +have an awl you kin do without a needle on a pinch--and be sure to +bring the stitches out the edge of the sole instead of right through, +then they don't wear off. That's the way." [E.] + +So they worked away, clumsily, while Guy snickered and sizzled, and +Sam suggested that Si Lee would make a better squaw than both of them. + +The sole as well as the upper being quite soft allowed them to turn +the moccasin inside out as often as they liked--and they did like; it +seemed necessary to reverse it every few minutes. But at length the +two pieces were fastened together all around, the seam gap at the heel +was quickly sewn up, four pairs of lace holes were made (_a, b, c, +d_, in D), and an eighteen-inch strip of soft leather run through +them for a lace. + +Now Yan painted the uppers with his Indian paints in the pattern that +Caleb had suggested, and the moccasins were done. + +A squaw would have made half a dozen good pairs while Yan and Caleb +made the one poor pair, but she would not have felt so happy about it. + + + + +XIV + +Caleb's Philosophy + + +The tracks of Mink appeared from time to time on Yan's creekside mud +albums, and at length another of these tireless watchers, placed at +the Wakan Rock, reported to him that Mink as well as Skunks came there +now for a nightly feast. + +The Mink was a large one, judging by the marks, and Caleb was asked to +help in trapping it. + +"How do you trap Mink, Mr. Clark?" was the question. + +"Don't trap 'em at all this time o' year, for they're no good till +October," was the answer. + +"Well, how do you trap them when they are in season?" + +"Oh, different ways." + +It was slow work, but Yan kept on and at length got the old man going. + +"Airly days we always used a deadfall for Mink. That's made like this, +with a bird or a Partridge head for bait. That kills him sure, sudden +and merciful. Then if it's cold weather he freezes and keeps O.K. +till you come around to get him; but in warm weather lots o' pelts are +spoiled by being kept too long, so ye have to go round pretty often +to save all you kill. Then some one brought in them new-fangled steel +traps that catches them by the foot and holds them for days and days, +some times, till they jest starve to death or chaw their foot off to +get free. I mind once I ketched a Mink with only two legs left. He had +been in a steel trap twice before and chawed off his leg to get +away. Them traps save the trapper going round so often, but they're +expensive, and heavy to carry, and you have got to be awful +hard-hearted before ye kin use 'em. I tell ye, when I thought of all +the sufferin' that Mink went through it settled me for steel traps. +Since then, says I, if ye must trap, use a deadfall or a ketchalive, +one or other; no manglin' an' tormentin' for days. I tell ye that thar +new Otter trap that grabs them in iron claws ought to be forbid by +law; it ain't human. + +"Same way about huntin'. Huntin's great sport, an' it can't be bad, +'cause I can't for the life of me see that it makes men bad. 'Pears +to me men as hunt is humaner than them as is above it; as for the +cruelty--wall, we know that no wild animal dies easy abed. They all +get killed soon or late, an' if it's any help to man to kill them I +reckon he has as good a right to do it as Wolves an' Wildcats. It +don't hurt any more--yes, a blame sight less--to be killed by a rifle +ball than to be chawed by Wolves. The on'y thing I says is don't do +it cruel--an' don't wipe out the hull bunch. If ye never kill a thing +that's no harm to ye 'live an' no good to ye dead nor more than the +country kin stand, 'pears to me ye won't do much harm, an' ye'll have +a lot o' real fun to think about afterward. + +"But I mind a feller from Europe, some kind o' swell, that I was +guidin' out West. He had crippled a Deer so it couldn't get away. Then +he sat down to eat lunch right by, and every few moments he'd fire a +shot into some part or another, experimentin' an' aimin' not to kill +it for awhile. I heard the shootin' an' blattin', an when I come up I +tell ye it set my blood a-boilin'. I called him some names men don't +like, an' put that Deer out o' pain quick as I could pull trigger. +That bu'st up our party--I didn't want no more o' him. He come pretty +near lyin' by the Deer that day. It makes me hot yet when I think of +it. + +"If he'd shot that Deer down runnin' an' killed it as quick as he +could it wouldn't 'a' suffered more than if it had been snagged a +little, 'cause bullets of right weight numb when they hit. The Deer +wouldn't have suffered more than he naturally would at his finish, +maybe less, an' he'd 'a' suffered it at a time when he could be some +good to them as hunted him. An' these yer new repeatin' guns is a +curse. A feller knows he has lots of shot and so blazes away into a +band o' Deer as long as he can see, an lots gets away crippled, to +suffer an' die; but when a feller has only one shot he's going to +place it mighty keerful. Ef it's sport ye want, get a single-shot +rifle, ef it's destruction, get a Gatling-gun. + +"Sport's good, but I'm agin this yer wholesale killin' an' cruelty. +Steel traps, light-weight bullets an' repeatin' guns ain't human. I +tell ye it's them as makes all the sufferin'." + +This was a long speech for Caleb, but it was really less connected +than here given. Yan had to keep him going with occasional questions. +This he followed up. + +"What do you think about bows and arrows, Mr. Clark?" + +"I wouldn't like to use them on big game like Bear and Deer, but I'd +be glad if shotguns was done away with and small game could be killed +only with arrows. They are either sure death or clear miss. There's no +cripples to get away and die. You can't fire an arrow into a flock of +birds and wipe out one hundred, like you can with one of them blame +scatterguns. It's them things that is killing off all the small game. +Some day they'll invent a scattergun that is a pump repeater like them +new rifles, and when every fool has one they'll wonder where all the +small game has gone to. + +"No, sir, I'm agin them. Bows and arrows is less destructful an' calls +for more Woodcraft an' give more sport--that is, for small game. +Besides, they don't make that awful racket, an' you know who is the +party that owns the shot, for every arrow is marked." + +Yan was sorry that Caleb did not indorse the arrow for big game, too. + +The Trapper was well started now; he seemed ready enough with +information to-day, and Yan knew enough to "run the rapids on the +freshet." + +"How do you make a ketchalive?" + +"What for?" + +"Oh, Mink." + +"They ain't fit to catch now, and the young ones need the mothers." + +"I wouldn't keep it. I only want to make a drawing." + +"Guess that won't harm it if you don't keep it too long. Have ye any +boards? We used to chop the whole thing out of a piece of Balsam wood +or White Pine, but the more stuff ye find ready-made the easier it is. +Now I'll show you how to make a ketchalive if ye'll promise me never +to miss a day going to it while it is set." + +The boys did not understand how any one could miss a day in visiting a +place of so much interest, and readily promised. + +So they made a ketchalive, or box-trap, two feet long, using hay wire +to make a strong netting at one end. + +"Now," said the trapper, "that will catch Mink, Muskrat, Skunk, +Rabbit--'most anything, 'cording to where you put it and how you bait +it." + +"Seems to me the Wakan Rock will be a good place to try." + +So the trap was baited with a fish head firmly lashed on the wire +trigger. + +In the morning, as Yan approached, he saw that it was sprung. A +peculiar whining and scratching came from it and he shouted in great +excitement: "Boys, boys, I've got him! I've got the Mink!" + +They seized the trap and held it cautiously up for the sunlight to +shine through the bars, and there saw to their disgust that they had +captured only the old gray Cat. As soon as the lid was raised she +bounded away, spitting and hissing, no doubt to hurry home to tell the +Kittens that it was all right, although she had been away so long. + + + + +XV + +A Visit from Raften + + +"Sam, I must have another note-book. It's no good getting up a new +'massacree' of Whites, 'cause there ain't any note-books there, but +maybe your father would get one the next time he drove to Downey's +Dump. I suppose I'll have to go on a peace party to ask him." + +Sam made no answer, but looked and listened out toward the trail, then +said: "Talk of the er--Angels, here comes Da." + +When the big man strode up Yan and Guy became very shy and held back. +Sam, in full war-paint, prattled on in his usual style. + +"Morning, Da; I'm yer kid. Bet ye'r in trouble an' want advice or +something." + +Raften rolled up his pendulous lips and displayed his huge front tusks +in a vast purple-and-yellow grin that set the boys' hearts at ease. + +"Kind o' thought you'd be sick av it before now." + +"Will you let us stay here till we are?" chimed in Sam, then without +awaiting the reply that he did not want, "Say, Da, how long is it +since there was any Deer around here?" + +"Pretty near twenty years, I should say." + +"Well, look at that now," whispered the Woodpecker. + +Raften looked and got quite a thrill for the dummy, half hidden in the +thicket, looked much like a real deer. + +"Don't you want to try a shot?" ventured Yan. + +Raften took the bow and arrow and made such a poor showing that he +returned them with the remark. "Sure a gun's good enough for me," +then, "Ole Caleb been around since?" + +"Old Caleb? I should say so; why, he's our stiddy company." + +"'Pears fonder o'you than he is of me." + +"Say, Da, tell us about that. How do you know it was Caleb shot at +you?" + +"Oh, I don't know it to prove it in a coort o' law, but we quarr'led +that day in town after the Horse trade an' he swore he'd fix me an' +left town. His own stepson, Dick Pogue, stood right by and heard him +say it; then at night when I came along the road by the green bush I +was fired at, an' next day we found Caleb's tobacco pouch and some +letters not far away. That's about all I know, an' all I want to know. +Pogue served him a mean trick about the farm, but that's none o' my +business. I 'spect the old fellow will have to get out an' scratch for +himself pretty soon." + +"He seems kind-hearted," said Yan. + +"Ah, he's got an awful temper, an' when he gets drunk he'd do +anything. Other times he's all right." + +"Well, how is it about the farm?" Sam asked. "Doesn't he own it?" + +"No, I guess not now. I don't r'aly know. I only hear them say. Av +coorse, Saryann ain't his own daughter. She's nowt o' kin, but he has +no one else, and Dick was my hired man--a purty slick feller with his +tongue; he could talk a bird off a bush; but he was a good worker. He +married Sary and persuaded the old man to deed them the place, him to +live in comfort with them to the end of his days. But once they got +the place, 'twas aisy to see that Dick meant to get rid o' Caleb, an' +the capsheaf was put last year, about his Dog, old Turk. They wouldn't +have him 'round. They said he was scaring the hens and chasing sheep, +which is like enough, for I believe he killed wan ov my lambs, an' I'd +give ten dollars to have him killed--making sure 'twas him, av coorse. +Rather than give up the Dog, Caleb moved out into the shanty on the +creek at the other end of the place. Things was better then, for Dick +and Saryann let up for awhile an' sent him lots o' flour an' stuff, +but folks say they're fixin' it to put the old man out o' that and get +shet of him for good. But I dunno; it's none o' my business, though he +does blame me for putting Dick up to it." + +"How's the note-book?" as Raften's eye caught sight of the open +sketch-book still in Yan's hand. + +"Oh, that reminds me," was the reply. "But what is this?" He showed +the hoof-mark be had sketched. Raften examined it curiously. + +"H-m, I dunno'; 'pears to me moighty loike a big Buck. But I guess +not; there ain't any left." + +"Say, Da," Sam persisted, "wouldn't you be sore if you was an old man +robbed and turned out?" + +"Av coorse; but I wouldn't lose in a game of swap-horse, an' then go +gunnin' after the feller. If I had owt agin him I'd go an' lick him or +be licked, an' take it all good-natured. Now that's enough. We'll talk +about something else." + +"Will you buy me another note-book next time you go to Downey's Dump? +I don't know how much it will cost or I'd give you the money," said +Yan, praying mentally that it be not more than the five or ten cents +which was all his capital. + +"Shure; I'll charge it up. But ye needn't wait till next week. +Thayer's one back at the White settlement ye can have for nothin'." + +"Say, Mr. Raften," Guy broke in, "I kin lick them all at +Deer-hunting." + +Sam looked at Yan and Yan looked at Sam, then glanced at Guy, made +some perfectly diabolical signs, seized each a long knife and sprung +toward the Third War Chief, but he dodged behind Raften and commenced +his usual "Now you let me 'lone--" + +Raften's eye twinkled. "Shure, I thought ye was all wan Tribe an' +paceable." + +"We've got to suppress crime," retorted his son. + +"Make him let me 'lone," whimpered Sapwood. + +"We'll let ye off this time if ye find that Woodchuck. It's near two +days since we've had a skirmish." + +"All right," and he went. Within five minutes he came running back, +beckoning. The boys got their bows and arrows, but fearing a trick +they held back. Guy dashed for his own weapons with unmistakable and +reassuring zest; then all set out for the field. Raften followed, +after asking if it would be safe for him to come along. + +The grizzly old Woodchuck was there feeding in a bunch of clover. The +boys sneaked under the fence, crawling through the grass in true Injun +fashion, till the Woodchuck stood up to look around, then they lay +still; when he went down they crawled again, and all got within forty +yards. Now the old fellow seemed suspicious, so Sam said, "Next time +he feeds we all fire together." As soon, then, as the Woodchuck's +breast was replaced by the gray back, the boys got partly up and +fired. The arrows whizzed around Old Grizzly, but all missed, and he +had scrambled to his hole before they could send a second volley. + +"Hallo, why didn't you hit him, Sappy?" + +"I'll bet I do next time." + +When they returned to Raften he received them with ridicule. + +"But ye'r a poor lot o' hunters. Ye'd all starve if it wasn't for the +White settlement nearby. Faith, if ye was rale Injun ye'd sit up all +night at that hole till he come out in the morning: then ye'd get him; +an' when ye get through with that one I've got another in the high +pasture ye kin work on." + +So saying, he left them, and Sam called after him: + +"Say, Da; where's that note-book for Yan? He's the Chief of the +'coup-tally,' and I reckon he'll soon have a job an' need his book. I +feel it in my bones." + +"I'll lave it on yer bed." Which he did, and Yan and Sam had the +pleasure of lifting it out of the window with a split stick. + + + + +XVI + +How Yan Knew the Ducks Afar + + +One day as the great Woodpecker lay on his back in the shade he said +in a tone of lofty command: + +"Little Beaver, I want to be amused. Come hyar. Tell me a story." + +"How would you like a lesson in Tutnee?" was the Second Chief's +reply, but he had tried this before, and he found neither Sam nor Guy +inclined to take any interest in the very dead language. + +"Tell me a story, I said," was the savage answer of the scowling and +ferocious Woodpecker. + +"All right," said Little Beaver. "I'll tell you a story of such a fine +boy--oh, he was the noblest little hero that ever wore pantaloons or +got spanked in school. Well, this boy went to live in the woods, and +he wanted to get acquainted with all the living wild things. He found +lots of difficulties and no one to help him, but he kept on and +on--oh! he was so noble and brave--and made notes, and when he learned +anything new he froze on to it like grim death. By and by he got a +book that was some help, but not much. It told about some of the birds +as if you had them _in your hand_. But this heroic youth only saw +them at a distance and he was stuck. One day he saw a wild Duck on a +pond so far away he could only see some spots of colour, but he made +a sketch of it, and later he found out from that rough sketch that it +was a Whistler, and then this wonderful boy had an idea. All the +Ducks are different; all have little blots and streaks that are their +labels, or like the uniforms of soldiers. 'Now, if I can put their +uniforms down on paper I'll know the Ducks as soon as I see them on a +pond a long way off.' So he set to work and drew what he could +find. One of his friends had a stuffed Wood-duck, so the +'Boy-that-wanted-to-know' drew that from a long way off. He got +another from an engraving and two more from the window of a +taxidermist shop. But he knew perfectly well that there are twenty or +thirty different kinds of Ducks, for he often saw others at a distance +and made far-sketches, hoping some day he'd find out what they were. +Well, one day the 'Boy-that-wanted-to-know' sketched a new Duck on a +pond, and he saw it again and again, but couldn't find out what it +was, and there was his b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l sketch, but no one to tell +him its name, so when he saw that he just had to go into the teepee +and steal the First War Chief's last apple and eat it to hide his +emotion." + +Here Yan produced an apple and began to eat it with an air of sadness. + +Without changing a muscle, the Great Woodpecker continued the tale: + +"Then when the First War Chief heard the harrowing tale of a blighted +life, he said: 'Shucks, I didn't want that old apple. It was fished +out of the swill-barrel anyway, but 'pears to me when a feller sets +out to do a thing an' don't he's a 'dumb failure,' which ain't much +difference from a 'durn fool.' + +"Now, if this heroic youth had had gumption enough to come out +flat-footed, an' instead of stealing rotten apples that the pigs has +walked on, had told his trouble to the Great Head War Chief, that +native-born noble Red-man would 'a' said: 'Sonny, quite right. When in +doubt come to Grandpa. You want to get sharp on Duck. Ugh! Good'--then +he'd 'a' took that simple youth to Downey's Hotel at Downey's Dump an' +there showed him every kind o' Duck that ever was born, an' all tagged +an' labelled. Wah! I have spoken." + +And the Great Woodpecker scowled ferociously at Guy, who was vainly +searching his face for a clue, not sure but what this whole thing was +some subtle mockery. But Yan had been on the lookout for this. Sam's +face throughout had shown nothing but real and growing interest. The +good sense of this last suggestion was evident, and the result was an +expedition was formed at once for Downey's Dump, a little town five +miles away, where the railroad crossed a long bog on the Skagbog +River. Here Downey, the contractor, had carried the railroad dump +across a supposed bottomless morass and by good luck had soon made +a bottom and in consequence a small fortune, with which he built a +hotel, and was now the great man of the town for which he had done so +much. + +"Guess we'll leave the Third War Chief in charge of camp," said Sam, +"an' I think we ought to go disguised as Whites." + +"You mean to go back to the Settlement and join the Whites?" + +"Yep, an' take a Horse an' buggy, too. It's five miles." + +That was a jarring note. Yan's imagination had pictured a foot +expedition through the woods, but this was more sensible, so he +yielded. + +They went to the house to report and had a loving reception from +the mother and little Minnie. The men were away. The boys quickly +harnessed a Horse and, charged also with some commissions from the +mother, they drove to Downey's Dump. + +On arriving they went first to the livery-stable to put up the horse, +then to the store, where Sam delivered his mother's orders, and having +made sure that Yan had pencil, paper and rubber, they went into +Downey's. Yan's feelings were much like those of a country boy going +for the first time to a circus--now he is really to see the things he +has dreamed of so long; now all heaven is his. + +And, curiously enough, he was not disappointed. Downey was a rough, +vigorous business man. He took no notice of the boys beyond a brief +"Morning, Sam," till he saw that Yan was making very fair sketches. +All the world loves an artist, and now there was danger of too much +assistance. + +The cases could not be opened, but were swung around and shades +raised to give the best light. Yan went at once to the bird he +had "far-sketched" on the pond. To his surprise, it was a female +Wood-duck. He put in the whole afternoon drawing those Ducks, male +and female, and as Downey had more than fifty specimens Yan felt like +Aladdin in the Fairy Garden--overpowered with abundance of treasure. +The birds were fairly well labelled with the popular names, and Yan +brought away a lot of sketches, which made him very happy. These he +afterward carefully finished and put together in a Duck Chart that +solved many of his riddles about the Common Duck. + + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: The Fish-Ducks, Sawbills, or Mergansers] + + [Illustration: The River Ducks] + + (See description below.) + + + Far-sketches showing common Ducks as seen on the water at about 50 + yards distance. The pair is shown in each square, the male above. + + N.B. The wings are rarely seen when the bird is swimming. + + + THE FISH-DUCK, SAWBILLS OR MERGANSERS + + Largely white and all are crested, wings with large white areas in + flight. + + 1. The Shelldrake or Goosander (_Merganser americanus_). + Bill, feet and eye red. + + 2. The Sawbill or Red-breasted Merganser (_Merganser + serrator_). Bill and feet red. + + 3. Hooded Merganser (_Lophodytes cucullatus_). Bill and feet + dark, paddle-box buff. + + + THE RIVER DUCKS + + The males usually with shining green and black on head and wings, + the females streaky gray-brown. + + 4. Mallard _(Anas boschas_). Red feet; male has pale, + greenish bill. Known in flight by white tail feathers and thin + white bar on wing. + + 5. Black Duck or Dusky Duck (_Anas obscura_). Dark bill, red + feet, no white except in flight, then shows white lining of wings. + + 6. Gadwall or Gray Duck (_Anas strepera_). Beak + flesh-coloured on edges, feet reddish, a white spot on wing + showing in flight. + + 7. Widgeon or Baldpate (_A. americana_). Bill and feet dull + blue; a large white spot on wing in flight; female has sides + reddish. + + 8. Green-winged Teal (_A. carolinensis_). Bill and feet dark. + + 9. Blue-winged Teal (_A. discors_). Bill and feet dark. + + 10. Shoveller (_Spatula clypeata_). Bill dark, feet red, eye + yellow-orange; a white patch on wings showing in flight + + 11. Pintail or Sprigtail (_Dafila acuta_). Bill and feet dull + blue. + + 12. Wood Duck or Summer Duck (_Aix sponsa_). Bill of male + red, paddle-box buff, bill of female and feet of both dark. + + +[Illustration: The Sea Ducks] + + +THE SEA DUCKS + + Chiefly black and white in colour; the female brownish instead of + black; most have yellow or orange eye, and more or less white on + wings which does not show as they swim. + + 13. Red-head (_Aythya americana_). Head and neck bright red; + eye of male yellow, bill and feet blue. + + 14. Canvasback (_A. vallisneria_). Head and neck dark-red, + eye of male red, bill and feet of both dark or bluish. + + 15. Ring-necked Bluebill (_A. collaria_). Bill and feet + bluish. + + 16. Big Bluebill (_A. marila_). Bill and feet bluish. + + 17. Little Bluebill (_A. affinis_). Same colour as the + preceding. + + 18. Whistler or Goldeneye (_Clangula clangula americana_). + Feet orange. + + 19. Bufflehead or Butterball (_Charitonetta albeola_). + + 20. Old-Squaw or Longtail (_Harelda hyemalis_). This is its + winter plumage, in which it is mostly seen. + + 21. Black Scoter (_Oidemia americana_). A jet-black Duck with + orange bill; no white on it anywhere. + + 22. White-winged Scoter (_O. deglandi_). A black Duck with + white on cheek and wing; feet and bill orange; much white on wing + shows as they fly, sometimes none as they swim. + + 23. Surf Duck or Sea Coot (_O. perspicillata_). A black Duck + with white on head, but none on wings: bill and feet orange. + + 24. Ruddy Duck or Stiff-tailed Duck (_Erismatura + jamaicensis_). Bill and feet bluish; male is in general a dull + red with white face. + + * * * * * + +When they got back to camp at dusk they found a surprise. On the +trail was a white thing, which on investigation proved to be a ghost, +evidently made by Guy. The head was a large puff-ball carved like a +skull, and the body a newspaper. + +But the teepee was empty. Guy probably felt too much reaction after +the setting up of the ghost to sit there alone in the still night. + + + + +XVII + +Sam's Woodcraft Exploit + + +Sam's "long suit," as he put it, was axemanship. He was remarkable +even in this land of the axe, and, of course, among the "Injuns" he +was a marvel. Yan might pound away for half an hour at some block that +he was trying to split and make no headway, till Sam would say, "Yan, +hit it right there," or perhaps take the axe and do it for him; then +at one tap the block would fly apart. There was no rule for this happy +hit. Sometimes it was above the binding knot, sometimes beside it, +sometimes right in the middle of it, and sometimes in the end of the +wood away from the binder altogether--often at the unlikeliest places. +Sometimes it was done by a simple stroke, sometimes a glancing stroke, +sometimes with the grain or again angling, and sometimes a compound of +one or more of each kind of blow; but whatever was the right stroke, +Sam seemed to know it instinctively and applied it to exactly the +right spot, the only spot where the hard, tough log was open to +attack, and rarely failed to make it tumble apart as though it were a +trick got ready beforehand. He did not brag about it. He simply took +it for granted that he was the master of the art, and as such the +others accepted him. + +On one occasion Yan, who began to think he now had some skill, was +whacking away at a big, tough stick till he had tried, as he thought, +every possible combination and still could make no sign of a crack. +Then Guy insisted on "showing him how," without any better result. + +"Here, Sam," cried Yan, "I'll bet this is a baffler for you." + +Sam turned the stick over, selected a hopeless-looking spot, one as +yet not touched by the axe, set the stick on end, poured a cup of +water on the place, then, when that had soaked in, he struck with all +his force a single straight blow at the line where the grain spread to +embrace the knot. The aim was true to a hair and the block flew open. + +"Hooray!" shouted Little Beaver in admiration. + +"Pooh!" said Sapwood. "That was just chance. He couldn't do that +again." + +"Not to the same stick!" retorted Yan. He recognized the consummate +skill and the cleverness of knowing that the cup of water was just +what was needed to rob the wood of its spring and turn the balance. + +But Guy continued contemptuously, "I had it started for him." + +"_I_ think that should count a _coup_," said Little Beaver. + +"Coup nothin'," snorted the Third War Chief, in scorn. "I'll give you +something to do that'll try if you can chop. Kin you chop a six-inch +tree down in three minutes an' throw it up the wind ?" + +"What kind o' tree?" asked the Woodpecker. + +"Oh, any kind." + +"I'll bet you five dollars I kin cut down a six-inch White Pine in two +minutes an' throw it any way I want to. You pick out the spot for me +to lay it. Mark it with a stake an' I'll drive the stake." + +"I don't think any of the Tribe has five dollars to bet. If you can do +it we'll give you a grand coup feather," answered Little Beaver. + +"No spring pole," said Guy, eager to make it impossible. + +"All right," replied the Woodpecker; "I'll do it without using a +spring pole." + +So he whetted up his axe, tried the lower margin of the head, found it +was a trifle out of the true--that is, its under curve centred, not on +the handle one span down, but half an inch out from the handle. A nail +driven into the point of the axe-eye corrected this and the chiefs +went forth to select a tree. A White Pine that measured roughly six +inches through was soon found, and Sam was allowed to clear away the +brush around it. Yan and Guy now took a stout stake and, standing +close to the tree, looked up the trunk. Of course, every tree in the +woods leans one way or another, and it was easy to see that this +leaned slightly southward. What wind there was came from the north, so +Yan decided to set the stake due north. + +Sam's little Japanese eyes twinkled. But Guy who, of course, knew +something of chopping, fairly exploded with scorn. "Pooh! What do you +know? That's easy; any one can throw it straight up the wind. Give him +a cornering shot and let him try. There, now," and Guy set the stake +off to the north-west. "Now, smarty. Let's see you do that." + +"All right. You'll see me. Just let me look at it a minute." + +Sam walked round the tree, studied its lean and the force of the wind +on its top, rolled up his sleeves, slipped his suspenders, spat on his +palms, and, standing to west of the tree, said _"Ready_." + +Yan had his watch out and shouted "_Go_." + +Two firm, unhasty strokes up on the south side of the tree left a +clean nick across and two inches deep in the middle. The chopper then +stepped forward one pace and on the north-northwesterly side, eighteen +inches lower down than the first cut, after reversing his hands--which +is what few can do--he rapidly chopped a butt-kerf. Not a stroke +was hasty; not a blow went wrong. The first chips that flew were +ten inches long, but they quickly dwindled as the kerf sank in. The +butt-kerf was two-thirds through the tree when Yan called "One minute +up." Sam stopped work, apparently without cause, leaned one hand +against the south side of the tree and gazed unconcernedly up at its +top. + +"Hurry up, Sam. You're losing time!" called his friend. Sam made no +reply. He was watching the wind pushes and waiting for a strong one. +It came--it struck the tree-top. There was an ominous crack, but Sam +had left enough and pushed hard to make sure; as soon as the recoil +began he struck in very rapid succession three heavy strokes, cutting +away all the remaining wood on the west side and leaving only a +three-inch triangle of uncut fibre. All the weight was now northwest +of this. The tree toppled that way, but swung around on the uncut +part; another puff of wind gave help, the swing was lost, the tree +crashed down to the northwest and drove the stake right out of sight +in the ground. + +"Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! One minute and forty-five seconds!" How Yan +did cheer. Sam was silent, but his eyes looked a little less dull and +stupid than usual, and Guy said "Pooh? That's nothin'." + +Yan took out his pocket rule and went to the stump. As soon as he laid +it on, he exclaimed "Seven and one-half inches through where you cut," +and again he had to swing his hat and cheer. + +"Well, old man, you surely did it that time. That's a grand coup if +ever I saw one," and so, notwithstanding Guy's proposal to "leave it +to Caleb," Sam got his grand Eagle feather as Axeman A1 of the Sanger +Indians. + + + + +XVIII + +The Owls and The Night School + + +One night Sam was taking a last look at the stars before turning in. A +Horned Owl had been hooting not far away. + +"_Hoo--hohoo-hoho--hoooooo_." + +And as he looked, what should silently sail to the top of the medicine +pole stuck in the ground twenty yards away but the Owl. + +"Yan! Yan! Give me my bow and arrow, quick. Here's a Cat-Owl--a +chicken stealer, he's fair game." + +"He's only codding you, Yan," said Guy sleepily from his blanket. "I +wouldn't go." + +But Yan rushed out with his own and Sam's weapons. + +Sam fired at the great feathery creature, but evidently missed, for +the Owl spread its wings and sailed away. + +"There goes my best arrow. That was my 'Sure-death.'" + +"Pshaw!" growled Yan, as he noted the miss. "You can't shoot a little +bit." + +But as they stood, there was a fluttering of broad wings, and there, +alighting as before on the medicine pole, was the Owl again. + +"My turn now!" exclaimed Yan in a gaspy whisper. + +He drew his bow, the arrow flew, and the Owl slipped off unharmed as +it had the first time. + +"Yan, you're no good. An easy shot like that. Why, any idiot could hit +that. Why didn't you fetch her?" + +"'Cause I'm not an idiot, I suppose. I hit the same place as you did, +anyway, and drew just as much blood." + +"Ef he comes back again you call me," piped Guy in his shrill voice. +"I'll show you fellers how to shoot. You're no good at all 'thout me. +Why, I mind the time I was Deer-shooting----" but a fierce dash of the +whole Tribe for Sappy's bed put a stop to the reminiscent flow and +replaced it with whines of "Now you let me alone. I ain't doin' +nothin' to you." + +During the night they were again awakened by the screech in the +tree-tops, and Yan, sitting up, said, "Say, boys, that's nothing but +that big Cat Owl." + +"So it is," was Sam's answer; "wonder I didn't think of that before." + +"I did," said Guy; "I knew it all the time." + +In the morning they went out to find their arrows. The medicine pole +was a tall pole bearing a feathered shield, with the tribal totem, a +white Buffalo, which Yan had set up to be in Indian fashion. Sighting +in line from the teepee over this, they walked on, looking far beyond, +for they had learned always to draw the arrow to the head. They +had not gone twenty-five feet before Yan burst out in unutterable +astonishment: "Look! Look at that--and _that_------" + +There on the ground not ten feet apart were two enormous Horned Owls, +both shot fairly through the heart, one with Sam's "Sure-death" arrow, +the other with Yan's "Whistler"; both shots had been true, and the +boys could only say, "Well, if you saw that in print you would say it +was a big lie!" It was indeed one of those amazing things which happen +only in real life, and the whole of the Tribe with one exception voted +a _grand coup_ to each of the hunters. + +Guy was utterly contemptuous. "They got so close they hit by chance +an' didn't know they done it. If he had been shooting," etc., etc., +etc. + +"How about that screech in the tree-tops, Guy?" + +"Errrrh." + +What a fascination the naturalist always finds in a fine Bird. Yan +revelled in these two. He measured their extent of wing and the length +from beak to tail of each. He studied the pattern on their quills; +he was thrilled by their great yellow eyes and their long, powerful +claws, and he loved their every part. He hated to think that in a few +days these wonderful things would be disgusting and fit only to be +buried. + +"I wish I knew hew to stuff them," he said. + +"Why don't you get Si Lee to show you," was Sam's suggestion. "Seems +to me I often seen pictures of Injun medicine men with stuffed birds," +he added shrewdly and happily. + +"Well, that's just what I will do." + +Then arose a knotty question. Should he go to Si Lee and thereby turn +"White" and break the charm of the Indian life, or should he attempt +the task of persuading Si to come down there to work without proper +conveniences. They voted to bring Si to camp. "Da might think we was +backing out." After all, the things needed were easily carried, and +Si, having been ambushed by a scout, consented to come and open a +night-school in taxidermy. + +The tools and things that he brought were a bundle of tow made by +unravelling a piece of rope, some cotton wool, strong linen thread, +two long darning needles, arsenical soap worked up like cream, +corn-meal, some soft iron wire about size sixteen and some of +stovepipe size, a file, a pair of pliers, wire cutters, a sharp knife, +a pair of stout scissors, a gimlet, two ready-made wooden stands, and +last of all a good lamp. The boys hitherto had been content with the +firelight. + +Thus in the forest teepee Yan had his first lesson in the art that was +to give him so much joy and some sorrow in the future. + +Guy was interested, though scornful; Sam was much interested; Yan was +simply rapt, and Si Lee was in his glory. His rosy red cheeks and his +round figure swelled with pride; even his semi-nude head and fat, +fumbling fingers seemed to partake of his general elation and +importance. + +First he stuffed the Owls' throats and wounds with cotton wool. + +Then he took one, cut a slit from the back of the breast-bone nearly +to the tail (_A_ to _B_, Fig. 1), while Yan took the other and tried +faithfully to follow his example. + +He worked the skin from the body chiefly by the use of his finger +nails, till he could reach the knee of each leg and cut this through +at the joint with the knife (_Kn,_ Fig. 1). The flesh was removed from +each leg-bone down to the heel-joint (_Hl, Hl_, Fig. 1), leaving the +leg and skin as in _Lg_, Figure 2. Then working back on each side of +the tail, he cut the "pope's nose" from the body and left it as part +of the skin, with the tail feathers in it, and this, Si explained, was +a hard place to get around. Sam called it "rounding Cape Horn." As the +flesh was exposed Si kept it powdered thickly with corn-meal, and this +saved the feathers from soiling. + +Once around Cape Horn it was easy sailing. The skin was rapidly pushed +off till the wings were reached. These were cut off at the joint deep +in the breast (under _J J_, Fig. 1, or seen on the back, _W J_, Fig. 2), +the first bone of each wing was cleared of meat, and the skin, now +inside out and well mealed, was pushed off the neck up to the head. + +Here Si explained that in most birds it would slip easily over the head, +but in Owls, Woodpeckers, Ducks and some others one had sometimes to +help it by a lengthwise slit on the nape (_Sn_, Fig. 2). "Owls is hard, +anyway," he went on, "though not so bad as Water-fowl. If ye want a real +easy bird for a starter, take a Robin or a Blackbird, or any land Bird +about that size except Woodpeckers." + +When the ears were reached they were skinned and pulled out of the skull +without cutting, then, after the eyes were passed, the skin and body +looked as in Figure 2. Now the back of the head with the neck and body +was cut off (_Ct_, Fig. 2), and the first operation of the skinning was +done. + +Yan got along fairly well, tearing and cutting the skin once or twice, +but learning very quickly to manage it. + +Now began the cleaning of the skin. + +The eyes were cut clean out and the brains and flesh carefully scraped +away from the skull. + +The wing bones were already cleaned of meat down to the elbow joint, +where the big quill feathers began, and the rest of the wing had to +be cleared of flesh by cutting open the under side of the next joint +(_H_ to _El_, Fig. 1). The "pope's nose" and the skin generally was +freed from meat and grease by scraping with a knife and rubbing with +the meal. + +Then came the poisoning. Every part of the bones and flesh had to be +painted with the creamy arsenical soap, then the head was worked back +into its place and the skin turned right side out. + +When this was done it was quite late. Guy was asleep, Sam was nearly +so, and Yan was thoroughly tired out. + +"Guess I'll go now," said Si. "Them skins is in good shape to keep, +only don't let them dry," so they were wrapped up in a damp sack and +put away in a tin till next night, when Si promised to return and +finish the course in one more lesson. + +[Illustration: Owl-stuffing plate] + + + OWL-STUFFING PLATE + + Fig. 1. The dead Owl, showing the cuts made in skinning it: A to + B, for the body; El to H, on each wing, to remove the meat of the + second joint. + + Fig. 2. After the skinning is done the skull remains attached to + the skin, which is now inside out, the neck and body are cut off + at Ct. Sn to Sn shows the slit in the nape needed for Owls and + several other kinds. + + Fig. 3. Top view of the tow body, neck end up, and neck wire + projecting. + + Fig. 4. Side view of the tow body, with the neck wire put through + it; the tail end is downward. + + Fig. 5. The heavy iron wire for neck. + + Fig. 6. The Owl after the body is put in; it is now ready to close + up, by stitching up the slit on the nape, the body slit B to C and + the two wing slits El to H, on each wing. + + Fig. 7. A dummy as it _would look_ if all the feathers were + off; this shows the proper position for legs and wings on the + body. At W is a glimpse of the leg wire entering the body at the + middle of the side. + + Fig. 8. Another view of the body without feathers; the dotted + lines show the wires of the legs through the hard body, and the + neck wire. + + Fig. 9. Two views of one of the wooden eyes; these are on a much + larger scale than the rest of the figures in this plate. + + Fig. 10. The finished Owl, with the thread wrappings on and + the wires still projecting; Nw is end of the neck wire; Bp is + back-pin--that is, the wire in the center of the back; Ww and Ww + are the wing wires; Tl are the cards pinned on the tail to hold it + flat while it dries. The last operation is to remove the threads + and cut all the wires off close so that the feathers hide what + remains. + + +While they were so working Sam had busied himself opening the Owls' +stomachs--"looking up their records," as he called it. He now reported +that one had lynched a young Partridge and the other had killed a +Rabbit for its latest meal. + +Next night Si Lee came as promised, but brought bad news. He had +failed to find the glass Owl eyes he had hoped were in his trunk. His +ingenuity, however, was of the kind that is never balked in a small +matter. He produced some black and yellow oil paints, explaining, +"Guess we'll make wooden eyes do for the present, an' when you get to +town you can put glass ones in their place." So Sam was set to work +whittling four wooden eyes the shape of well-raised buns and about +three-quarters of an inch across. When whittled, scraped and smooth, +Si painted them brilliant yellow with a central black spot and put +them away to dry (shown on a large scale on Owl Stuffing Plate, Fig. 9, +_a_ and _b_). + +Meanwhile, he and Yan got out the two skins. The bloody feathers on +the breasts were washed clean in a cup of warm water, then dried with +cotton and dusted all over with meal to soak up any moisture left. The +leg and wing bones were now wrapped with as much tow as would take the +place of the removed meat. The eye sockets were partly filled with +cotton, then a long soft roll of tow about the length and thickness of +the original neck was worked up into the neck skin and into the skull +and left hanging. The ends of the two wing bones were fastened two +inches apart with a shackle of strong string (_X_, Fig. 2 and +Fig. 7). Now the body was needed. + +For this Si rolled and lashed a wad of tow with strong thread until +he made a dummy of the same size and shape as the body taken out, +squeezing and sewing it into a hard solid mass. Next he cut about two +and a half feet of the large wire, filed both ends sharp, doubled +about four inches of one end back in a hook (Fig. 5), then drove the +long end through the tow body from the tail end out where the neck +should join on (Figs. 3 and 4). This was driven well in so that the +short end of the hook was buried out of sight. Now Si passed the +projecting ends of the long wire up the neck in the middle of the tow +roll or neck already there, worked it through the skull and out at the +top of the Owl's head, and got the tow body properly placed in the +skin with the string that bound the wing bones across the back +(_X_, Fig. 7). + +Two heavy wires each eighteen inches long and sharp at one end were +needed for the legs. These were worked up one through the sole of +each foot under the skin of the leg behind (_Lw_, Fig. 6), then +through the tow body at the middle of the side (_W_, Fig. 7), +after which the sharp end was bent with pliers into a hook and driven +back into the hard body (after the manner of the neck wire, Fig. 4). + +Another wire was sharpened and driven through the bones of the tail, +fastening that also to the tow body (_Tw_, Fig. 7). + +Now a little soft tow was packed into places where it seemed needed +to fit the skin on, and it remained to sew up the opening below +(_Bc_ in Fig. 6), the wing slits (_El, H_, Fig. 6 and Fig. +1), and the slit in the nape (_Sn Sn_, Fig. 2) with half a dozen +stitches, always putting the needle into the skin from the flesh side. + +The projecting wires of the feet were put through gimlet holes in the +perch and made firm, and Si's Owls were ready for their positions. +They were now the most ridiculous looking things imaginable, wings +floppy, heads hanging. + +"Here is where the artist comes in," said Si proudly, conscious that +this was himself. He straightened up the main line of the body by +bending the leg wires and set the head right by hunching the neck into +the shoulders. "An Owl always looks over its shoulder," he explained, +but took no notice of Sam's query as to "whose shoulder he expected it +to look over." He set two toes of each foot forward on the perch and +two back to please Yan, who insisted that that was Owly, though Si +had his doubts. He spread the tail a little by pinning it between two +pieces of card (_Tl_, Fig. 10), gave it the proper slant, and now +had the wings to arrange. + +They were drooping like those of a clucking hen. A sharp wire of the +small size was driven into the bend of each wing (_0_, Fig. 7), +nailing it in effect to the body (_Ww_ and _Ww_, Fig. 10). A long pin +was set in the middle of the back (_Bp_, Fig. 10), then using these +with the wing wires and head wire as lashing points, Si wrapped the +whole bird with the thread (Fig. 10), putting a wad of cotton here or +a bit of stick there under the wrapping till he had the position and +"feathering" perfect, as he put it. + +"We can put in the eyes now," said he, "or later, if we soften +the skin around the eye-sockets by putting wet cotton in them for +twenty-four hours." + +Yan had carefully copied Si's method with the second Owl, and +developed unusual quickness at it. + +His teacher remarked, "Wall, I larned lots o' fellows to stuff birds, +but you ketch on the quickest I ever seen." + +Si's ideas of perfection might differ from those of a trained +taxidermist; indeed, these same Owls afforded Yan no little amusement +in later years, but for the present they were an unmitigated joy. + +They were just the same in position. Si knew only one; all his birds +had that. But when they had dried fully, had their wrappings removed, +the wires cut off flush and received the finishing glory of their +wooden eyes, they were a source of joy and wonder to the whole Tribe +of Indians. + + + + +XIX + +The Trial of Grit + + +The boys had made war bonnets after the "really truly" Indian style +learned from Caleb. White Turkey tail-feathers and white Goose +wing-feathers dyed black at the tips made good Eagle feathers. Some +wisps of red-dyed horsehair from an old harness tassel; strips of red +flannel from an old shirt, and some scraps of sheepskin supplied the +remaining raw material. Caleb took an increasing interest, and helped +them not only to make the bonnet, but also to decide on what things +should count _coup_ and what _grand coup_. Sam had a number +of feathers for shooting, diving, "massacreeing the Whites," and his +grand tufted feathers for felling the pine and shooting the Cat-Owl. + +Among other things, Yan had counted coup for trailing. The Deer hunt +had been made still more real by having the "Deer-boy" wear a pair of +sandals made from old boots; on the sole of each they put two lines +of hobnails in V shape, pointing forward. These made hooflike marks +wherever the Deer went. One of the difficulties with the corn was that +it gave no clue to the direction or doubling of the trail, but the +sandals met the trouble, and with a very little corn to help they had +an ideal trail. All became very expert, and could follow fast a very +slight track, but Yan continued the best, for what he lacked in +eyesight he more than made up in patience and observation. He already +had a _grand coup_ for finding and shooting the Deer in the heart, +that time, at first shot before the others came up even, and had won +six other _grand coups_--one for swimming 200 yards in five minutes, +one for walking four measured miles in one hour, one for running 100 +yards in twelve seconds, one for knowing 100 wild plants, one for +knowing 100 birds, and the one for shooting the Horned Owl. + +Guy had several good _coups_, chiefly for eyesight. He could see +"the papoose on the squaws back," and in the Deer hunt he had several +times won _coups_ that came near being called _grand coup_, +but so far fate was against him, and even old Caleb, who was partial +to him, could not fairly vote him a _grand coup_. + +"What is it that the Injuns most likes in a man: I mean, what would +they druther have, Caleb?" asked Sappy one day, confidently expecting +to have his keen eyesight praised. + +"Bravery," was the reply. "They don't care what a man is if he's +brave. That's their greatest thing--that is, if the feller has the +stuff to back it up. An' it ain't confined to Injuns; I tell you there +ain't anything that anybody goes on so much. Some men pretends to +think one thing the best of all, an' some another, but come right down +to it, what every man, woman an' child in the country loves an' +worships is pluck, clear grit, well backed up." + +"_Well, I tell you_," said Guy, boiling up with enthusiasm at +this glorification of grit, "_I_ ain't scared o' nothin'." + +"Wall, how'd you like to fight Yan there?" + +"Oh, that ain't fair. He's older an' bigger'n I am." + +"Say, Sappy, I'll give you one. Suppose you go to the orchard alone +an' get a pail of cherries. All the men'll be away at nine o'clock." + +"Yes, and have old Cap chaw me up." + +"Thought you weren't scared of anything, an' a poor little Dog smaller +than a yearling Heifer scares you." + +"Well, I don't like cherries, anyhow." + +"Here, now, Guy, I'll give you a real test. You see that stone?" and +Caleb held up a small round stone with a hole in it. "Now, you know +where old Garney is buried?" + +Garney was a dissolute soldier who blew his head off, accidentally, +his friends claimed, and he was buried on what was supposed to be his +own land just north of Raften's, but it afterward proved to be part of +the highway where a sidepath joined in, and in spite of its diggers +the grave was at the _crossing of two roads_. Thus by the hand of +fate Bill Garney was stamped as a suicide. + +The legend was that every time a wagon went over his head he must +groan, but unwilling to waste those outcries during the rumbling of +the wheels, he waited till midnight and rolled them out all together. +Anyone hearing should make a sympathetic reply or they would surely +suffer some dreadful fate. This was the legend that Caleb called up +to memory and made very impressive by being properly impressed +himself. + +"Now," said he, "I am going to hide this stone just behind the rock +that marks the head of Garney's grave, an' I'll send you to git it +some night. Air ye game?" + +"Y-e-s, I'll go," said the Third War Chief without visible enthusiasm. + +"If he's so keen for it now, there'll be no holding him back when +night comes," remarked the Woodpecker. + +"Remember, now," said Caleb, as he left them to return to his own +miserable shanty, "this is the chance to show what you're made of. +I'll tie a cord to the stone to make sure that you get it." + +"We're just going to eat. Won't you stay and jine with us," called +Sam, but Caleb strode off without taking notice of the invitation. + +In the middle of the night the boys were aroused by a man's voice +outside and the scratching of a stick on the canvas. + +"Boys! Guy--Yan! Oh, Guy!" + +"Hello! Who is it?" + +"Caleb Clark! Say, Guy, it's about half-past eleven now. You have just +about time to go to Garney's grave by midnight an' get that stone, +and if you can't find the exact spot _you listen for the groaning +_--_that'll guide you_." + +This cheerful information was given in a hoarse whisper that somehow +conveyed the idea that the old man was as scared as he could be. + +"I--I--I--" stammered Guy, "I can't see the way." + +"This is the chance of your life, boy. You get that stone and you'll +get a _grand coup_ feather, top honours fur grit. I'll wait here +till you come back." + +"I--I--can't find the blamed old thing on such a dark night. +I--I--ain't goin'." + +"Errr--you're scared," whispered Caleb. + +"I ain't scared, on'y what's the use of goin' when I couldn't find the +place? I'll go when it's moonlight." + +"Err--anybody here brave enough to go after that stone?" + +"I'll go," said the other two at the same time, though with a certain +air of "But I hope I don't have to, all the same." + +"You kin have the honour, Yan," said the Woodpecker, with evident +relief. + +"Of course, I'd like the chance--but--but--I don't want to push ahead +of you--you're the oldest; that wouldn't be square," was the reply. + +"Guess we'd better draw straws for it." + +So Sam sought a long straw while Yan stirred up the coals to a blaze. +The long straw was broken in two unequal pieces and hidden in Sam's +hand. Then after shuffling he held it toward Yan, showing only the +two tips, and said, "Longest straw takes the job." Yan knew from old +experience that a common trick was to let the shortest straw stick out +farthest, so he took the other, drew it slowly out and out--it seemed +endless. Sam opened his hand and showed that the short straw remained, +then added with evident relief: "You got it. You are the luckiest +feller I ever did see. Everything comes your way." + +If there had been any loophole Yan would have taken it, but it was +now clearly his duty to go for that stone. It was pride rather than +courage that carried him through. He dressed quietly and nervously; +his hands trembled a little as he laced his shoes. Caleb waited +outside when he heard that it was Yan who was going. He braced him up +by telling him: "You're the stuff. I jest love to see grit. I'll +go with you to the edge of the woods--'twouldn't be fair to go +farther--and wait there till you come back. It's easy to find. Go four +panels of fence past the little Elm, then right across on the other +side of the road is the big stone. Well, on the side next the north +fence you'll find the ring pebble. The coord is lying kind o' cross +the big white stone, so you'll find it easy; and here, take this +chalk; if your grit gives out, you mark on the fence how far you did +get, but don't you worry about that groaning--it's nothing but a +yarn--don't be scairt." + +"I am afraid I am scared, but still I'll go." + +"That's right," said the Trapper with emphasis. "Bravery ain't so much +not being scairt as going ahead when you are scairt, showing that you +kin boss your fears." + +So they talked till they struck out of the gloom of the trees to the +comparative light of the open field. + +"It's just fifteen minutes to midnight," said Caleb, looking at his +watch with the light of a match, "You'll make it easy. I'll wait +here." + +Then Yan went on alone. + +It was a somber night, but he felt his way along the field fence to +the line fence and climbed that into the road that was visible as a +less intense darkness on the black darkness of the grass. Yan walked +on up the middle cautiously. His heart beat violently and his hands +were cold. It was a still night, and once or twice little mousey +sounds in the fence corner made him start, but he pushed on. Suddenly +in the blackness to the right of the road he heard a loud "whisk," +then he caught sight of a white thing that chilled his blood. It was +the shape of a man wrapped in white, but lacked a head, just as the +story had it. Yan stood frozen to the ground. Then his intellect came +to the rescue of his trembling body. "What nonsense! It must be a +white stone." But no, it moved. Yan had a big stick in his hand. He +shouted: "Sh, sh, sh!" Again the "corpse" moved. Yan groped on the +road for some stones and sent one straight at the "white thing." He +heard a "whooff" and a rush. The "white thing" sprang up and ran past +him with a clatter that told him he had been scared by Granny de +Neuville's white-faced cow. At first the reaction made him weak at the +knees, but that gave way to a better feeling. If a harmless old Cow +could lie out there all night, why should he fear? He went on more +quietly till he neared the rise in the road. He should soon see the +little Elm. He kept to the left of the highway and peered into the +gloom, going more slowly. He was not so near as he had supposed, and +the tension of the early part of the expedition was coming back more +than ever. He wondered if he had not passed the Elm--should he go +back? But no, he could not bear the idea; that would mean retreat. +Anyhow, he would put his chalk mark here to show how far he did get. +He sneaked cautiously toward the fence to make it, then to his relief +made out the Elm not twenty-five feet away. Once at the tree, he +counted off the four panels westward and knew that he was opposite the +grave of the suicide. It must now be nearly midnight. He thought he +heard sounds not far away, and there across the road he saw a whitish +thing--the headstone. He was greatly agitated as he crawled quietly as +possible toward it. Why quietly he did not know. He stumbled through +the mud of the shallow ditch at each side, reached the white stone, +and groped with clammy, cold hands over the surface for the string. If +Caleb had put it there it was gone now. So he took his chalk and wrote +on the stone "Yan." + +Oh, what a scraping that chalk made! He searched about with his +fingers around the big boulder. Yes, there it was; the wind, no doubt, +had blown it off. He pulled it toward him. The pebble was drawn across +the boulder with another and louder rasping that sounded fearfully +in the night. Then at once a gasp, a scuffle, a rush, a splash of +something in mud, or water--horrible sounds of a being choking, +strangling or trying to speak. For a moment Yan sank down in terror. +His lips refused to move. But the remembrance of the cow came to help +him. He got up and ran down the road as fast as he could go, a cold +sweat on him. He ran so blindly he almost ran into a man who shouted +"Ho, Yan; is that you?" It was Caleb coming to meet him. Yan could +not speak. He was trembling so violently that he had to cling to the +Trapper's arm. + +"What was it, boy? I heard it, but what was it?" + +"I--I--don't know," he gasped; "only it was at the g-g-grave." + +"Gosh! I heard it, all right," and Caleb showed no little uneasiness, +but added, "We'll be back in camp in ten minutes." + +He took Yan's trembling hand and led him for a little while, but he +was all right when he came to the blazed trail. Caleb stepped ahead, +groping in the darkness. + +Yan now found voice to say, "I got the stone all right, and I wrote my +name on the grave, too." + +"Good boy! You're the stuff!" was the admiring response. + +They were very glad to see that there was a fire in the teepee +when they drew near. At the edge of the clearing they gave a loud +"_O-hoo_--_O-hoo_--O-hoo-oo," the Owl cry that they had +adopted because it is commonly used by the Indians as a night signal, +and they got the same in reply from within. + +"All right," shouted Caleb; "he done it, an' he's bully good stuff and +gets an uncommon _grand coup_." + +"Wish I had gone now," said Guy. "I could 'a' done it just as well as +Yan." + +"Well, go on now." + +"Oh, there ain't any stone to get now for proof." + +"You can write your name on the grave, as I did." + +"Ah, that wouldn't prove nothin'," and Guy dropped the subject. + +Yan did not mean to tell his adventure that night, but his excitement +was evident, and they soon got it out of him in full. They were +a weird-looking crowd as they sat around the flickering fire, +experiencing as he told it no small measure of the scare he had just +been through. + +When he had finished Yan said, "Now, Guy, don't you want to go and try +it?" + +"Oh, quit," said Guy; "I never saw such a feller as you for yammering +away on the same subjek." + +Caleb looked at his watch now, as though about to leave, when Yan +said: + +"Say, Mr. Clark, won't you sleep here? There's lots o' room in Guy's +bed." + +"Don't mind if I do, seem' it's late." + + + + +XX + +The White Revolver + + +In the morning Caleb had the satisfaction of eating a breakfast +prepared by the son of his enemy, for Sam was cook that day. + +The Great Woodpecker expressed the thought of the whole assembly when +after breakfast he said: "Now I want to go and see that grave. I +believe Yan wrote his name on some old cow that was lying down and she +didn't like it and said so out loud!" + +They arrived at the spot in a few minutes. Yes, there it was +plainly written on the rude gravestone, rather shaky, but perfectly +legible--"Yan." + +"Pretty poor writing," was Guy's remark. + +"Well, you sure done it! Good boy!" said Sam warmly. "Don't believe +I'd 'a' had the grit." + +"Bet I would," said Guy. + +"Here's where I crossed the ditch. See my trail in the mud? Out there +is where I heard the yelling. Let's see if ghosts make tracks. Hallo, +what the--" + +There were the tracks in the mud of a big man. He had sprawled, +falling on his hands and knees. Here was the print of his hands +several times, and in the mud, half hidden, something shining--Guy saw +it first and picked it up. It was a white-handled Colt's revolver. + +"Let's see that," said Caleb. He wiped off the mud. His eye kindled. +"That's my revolver that was stole from me 'way back, time I lost my +clothes and money." He looked it over and, glancing about, seemed lost +in thought. "This beats me!" He shook his head and muttered from time +to time, "This beats me!" There seemed nothing more of interest to +see, so the boys turned homeward. + +On the way back Caleb was evidently thinking hard. He walked in +silence till they got opposite Granny de Neuville's shanty, which was +the nearest one to the grave. At the gate he turned and said: "Guess +I'm going in here. Say, Yan, you didn't do any of that hollering last +night, did you?" + +"No, sir; not a word. The only sound I made was dragging the +ring-stone over the boulder." + +"Well, I'll see you at camp," he said, and turned in to Granny's. + +"The tap o' the marnin' to ye, an' may yer sowl rest in pace," was the +cheery old woman's greeting. "Come in--come in, Caleb, an' set down. +An' how is Saryann an' Dick?" + +"They seem happy an' prosperin'," said the old man with bitterness. +"Say, Granny, did you ever hear the story about Garney's grave out +there on the road?" + +"For the love av goodness, an' how is it yer after askin' me that now? +Sure an' I heard the story many a time, an' I'm after hearin' the +ghost last night, an' it's a-shiverin' yit Oi am." + +"What did you hear, Granny?" + +"Och, an' it was the most divilish yells iver let out av a soul in +hell. Shure the Dog and the Cat both av thim was scairt, and the owld +white-faced cow come a-runnin' an' jumped the bars to get aff av the +road." + +Here was what Caleb wanted, and he kept her going by his evident +interest. After she tired of providing more realistic details of +the night's uproar, Caleb deliberately tapped another vintage of +tittle-tattle in hope of further information leaking out. + +"Granny, did you hear of a robbery last week down this side of +Downey's Dump?" + +"Shure an' I did not," she exclaimed, her eyes ablaze with +interest--neither had Caleb, for that matter; but he wanted to start +the subject--"An" who was it was robbed?" + +"Don't know, unless it was John Evans's place." + +"Shure an' I don't know him, but I warrant he could sthand to lose. +Shure an' it's when the raskils come after me an' Cal Conner the +moment it was talked around that we had sold our Cow; then sez I, it's +gittin' onraisonable, an' them divils shorely seems to know whin a wad +o' money passes." + +"That's the gospel truth. But when wuz you robbed, Granny?" + +"Robbed? I didn't say I wuz robbed," and she cackled. "But the robbers +had the best av intintions when they came to me," and she related +at length her experience with the two who broke in when her Cow was +reported sold. She laughed over their enjoyment of the Lung Balm, and +briefly told how the big man was sulky and the short, broad one was +funny. Their black beards, the "big wan" with his wounded head, his +left-handedness and his accidental exposure of the three fingers of +the right hand, all were fully talked over. + +"When was it, Granny?" + +"Och, shure an' it wuz about three years apast." + +Then after having had his lungs treated, old Caleb left Granny and set +out to do some very hard thinking. + +There had been robberies all around for the last four years; There was +no clue but this: They were all of the same character; nothing but +cash was taken, and the burglars seemed to have inside knowledge of +the neighbourhood, and timed all their visits to happen just after the +householder had come into possession of a roll of bills. + +As soon as Caleb turned in at the de Neuville gate, Yan, acting on a +belated thought, said: + +"Boys, you go on to camp; I'll be after you in five minutes." He wanted +to draw those tracks in the mud and try to trail that man, so went +back to the grave. + +He studied the marks most carefully and by opening out the book he was +able to draw the boot tracks life-size, noting that each had three +rows of small hobnails on the heel, apparently put in at home because +so irregular, while the sole of the left was worn into a hole. Then he +studied the hand tracks, selected the clearest, and was drawing the +right hand when something odd caught his attention. + +Yes! It appeared in all the impressions of that hand--the middle +finger was gone. + +[Illustration: The three-fingered hand-print] + +Yan followed the track on the road a little way, but at the corner it +turned southward and was lost in the grass. + +As he was going back to camp he overtook Caleb also returning. + +"Mr. Clark," he said. "I went back to sketch those tracks, and do you +know--that man had only three fingers on his right hand?" + +"Consarn me!" said Caleb. "Are you sure?" + +"Come and see for yourself." + +Yes! It surely was true, and Caleb on the road back said, "Yan, don't +say a word of this to the others just now." + +The old Trapper went to the Pogue house at once. He found the tracks +repeated in the dust near the door, but they certainly were not made +by Dick. On a line was a pair of muddy trousers drying. + +From this night Yan went up and Guy went down in the old man's +opinion, for he spoke his own mind that day when he gave first place +to grit. He invited Yan to come to his shanty to see a pair of +snow-shoes he was making. The invitation was vague and general, so the +whole Tribe accepted. Yan had not been there since his first visit. +The first part of their call was as before. In answer to their knock +there was a loud baying from the Hound, then a voice ordering him +back. Caleb opened the door, but now said "Step in." If he was +displeased with the others coming he kept it to himself. While Yan +was looking at the snow-shoes Guy discovered something much more +interesting on the old man's bunk; that was the white revolver, now +cleaned up and in perfect order. Caleb's delight at its recovery, +though not very apparent, was boundless. He had not been able to buy +himself another, and this was as warmly welcomed back as though a +long-lost only child. + +"Say, Caleb, let's try a shot. I bet I kin beat the hull gang," +exclaimed Sapwood. + +Caleb got some cartridges and pointed to a white blaze on a stump +forty yards away. Guy had three or four shots and Yan had the same +without hitting the stump. Then Caleb said, "Lemme show you." + +His big rugged hand seemed to swallow up the little gun-stock. His +long knobbed finger fitted around the lock in a strange but familiar +way. Caleb was a bent-arm shot, and the short barrel looked like his +own forefinger pointing at the target as he pumped away six times in +quick succession. All went into the blaze and two into the charcoal +spot that marked the centre. + +"By George! Look at that for shooting!" and the boys were loud in +their praise. + +"Well, twenty year ago I used to be a pretty good shot," Caleb +proceeded to explain with an air of unnecessary humility and a very +genial expression on his face. "But that's dead easy. I'll show you +some real tricks." + +Twenty-five feet away he set up three cartridges in a row, their caps +toward him, and exploded them in succession with three rapid shots. +Then he put the revolver in the side pocket of his coat, and +recklessly firing it without drawing, much less sighting or even +showing it, he peppered a white blaze at twenty yards. Finally he +looked around for an old fruit tin. Then he cocked the revolver, +laid it across his right hand next the thumb and the tin across the +fingers. He then threw them both in the air with a jerk that sent the +revolver up ten feet and the tin twenty. As the revolver came down he +seized it and shot a hole through the tin before it could reach the +ground. + +The boys were simply dumbfounded. They had used up all their +exclamations on the first simple target trial. + +Caleb stepped into the shanty to get a cleaning-rag for his darling, +and Sam burst out: + +"Well, now I know he never shot at Da, for if he did he'd 'a' got him +sure." + +It was not meant for Caleb's ears, but it reached him, and the old +Trapper came to the door at once with a long, expressive "H-m-m-mrr." + +Thus was broken the dam of silent scorn, for it was the first time +Caleb had addressed himself to Sam. The flood had forced the barrier, +but it still left plenty of stuff in the channel to be washed away by +time and wear, and it was long before he talked to Sam as freely as to +the others, but still in time he learned. + +There was an air of geniality on all now, and Yan took advantage of +this to ask for something he had long kept in mind. + +"Mr. Clark, will you take us out for a Coon hunt? We know where there +are lots of Coons that feed in a corn patch up the creek." + +If Yan had asked this a month ago he would have got a contemptuous +refusal. Before the visit to Carney's grave it might have been, "Oh, I +dunno--I ain't got time," but he was on the right side of Caleb now, +and the answer was: + +"Well, yes! Don't mind if I do, first night it's coolish, so the Dog +kin run." + +[Illustration: Raccoon in tree] + + + + +XXI + +The Triumph Of Guy + + +The boys had hunted the Woodchuck quite regularly since first meeting +it. Their programme was much the same--each morning about nine or ten +they would sneak out to the clover field. It was usually Guy who first +discovered the old Grizzly, then all would fire a harmless shot, the +Woodchuck would scramble into his den and the incident be closed for +the day. This became as much a part of the day's routine as getting +breakfast, and much more so than the washing of the dishes. Once or +twice the old Grizzly had narrow escapes, but so far he was none the +worse, rather the better, being wiser. The boys, on the other +hand, gained nothing, with the possible exception of Guy. Always +quick-sighted, his little washed-out optics developed a marvellous +keenness. At first it was as often Yan or Sam who saw the old Grizzly, +but later it was always Guy. + +One morning Sam approached the game from one point, Guy and Yan from +another some yards away. "No Woodchuck!" was the first opinion, but +suddenly Guy called "I see him." There in a little hollow fully sixty +yards from his den, and nearly a hundred from the boys, concealed in a +bunch of clover, Guy saw a patch of gray fur hardly two inches square. +"That's him, sure." + +Yan could not see it at all. Sam saw but doubted. An instant later +the Woodchuck (for it was he) stood up on his hind legs, raised his +chestnut breast above the clover, and settled all doubt. + +"By George!" exclaimed Yan in admiration. "_That is great_. You +have the most wonderful eyes I ever did see. Your name ought to be +'Hawkeye'--that should be your name." + +"All right," shrilled out Guy enthusiastically. "Will you--will +you, Sam, will you call me Hawkeye? I think you ought to," he added +pleadingly. + +"I think so, Sam," said the Second Chief. "He's turned out great +stuff, an' it's regular Injun." + +"We'll have to call a Council and settle that. Now let's to business." + +"Say, Sapwood, you're so smart, couldn't you go round through the +woods to your side and crawl through the clover so as get between the +old Grizzly and his den?" suggested the Head Chief. + +"I bet I can, an' I'll bet a dollar--" + +"Here, now," said Yan, "Injuns don't have dollars." + +"Well, I'll bet my scalp--my black scalp, I mean--against Sam's that I +kill the old Grizzly first." + +"Oh, let me do it first--you do it second," said Sam imploringly. + +"Errr--yer scared of yer scalp." + +"I'll go you," said Sam. + +Each of the boys had a piece of black horsehair that he called his +scalp. It was tied with a string to the top of his head--and this was +what Guy wished to wager. + +Yan now interfered: "Quit your squabbling, you Great War Chiefs, an' +'tend to business. If Woodpecker kills old Grizzly he takes Sapwood's +scalp; if Sappy kills him he takes the Woodpecker's scalp, an' the +winner gets a grand feather, too." + +Sam and Yan waited impatiently in the woods while Guy sneaked around. +The Woodchuck seemed unusually bold this day. He wandered far from his +den and got out of sight in hollows at times. The boys saw Guy crawl +through the fence, though the Woodchuck did not. The fact was, that he +had always had the enemy approach him from the other side, and was not +watching eastward. + +Guy, flat on his breast, worked his way through the clover. He crawled +about thirty yards and now was between the Woodchuck and his den. +Still old Grizzly kept on stuffing himself with clover and watching +toward the Raften woods. The boys became intensely excited. Guy could +see them, but not the Woodchuck. They pointed and gesticulated. Guy +thought that meant "Now shoot." He got up cautiously. The Woodchuck +saw him and bounded straight for its den--that is, toward Guy. Guy +fired wildly. The arrow went ten feet over the Grizzly's head, and, +that "huge, shaking mass of fur" bounding straight at him, struck +terror to his soul. He backed up hastily, not knowing where to run. He +was close to the den. + +The Woodchuck chattered his teeth and plunged to get by the boy, each +as scared as could be. Guy gave a leap of terror and fell heavily just +as the Woodchuck would have passed under him and home. But the boy +weighed nearly 100 pounds, and all that weight came with crushing +force on old Grizzly, knocking the breath out of his body. Guy +scrambled to his feet to run for his life, but he saw the Woodchuck +lying squirming, and plucked up courage enough to give him a couple +of kicks on the nose that settled him. A loud yell from the other two +boys was the first thing that assured Guy of his victory. They came +running over and found him standing like the hunter in an amateur +photograph, holding his bow in one hand and the big Woodchuck by the +tail in the other. + +[Illustration: The hunter] + +"Now, I guess you fellers will come to me to larn you how to kill +Woodchucks. Ain't he an old socker? I bet he weighs fifty pounds--yes, +near sixty." (It weighed about ten pounds.) + +"Good boy! Bully boy! Hooray for the Third War Chief! Hooray for Chief +Sapwood!" and Guy had no cause to complain of lack of appreciation on +the part of the others. + +He swelled out his chest and looked proud and haughty. "Wished I knew +where there was some more Woodchucks," he said. "_I_ know how to +get them, if the rest don't." + +"Well, that should count for a _grand coup_, Sappy." + +[Illustration: "Guy gave a leap of terror and fell."] + +"You tole me you wuz goin' to call me 'Hawkeye' after this morning." + +"We'll have to have a Grand Council to fix that up," replied the Head +Chief. + +"All right; let's have it this afternoon, will you?" + +"All right." + +"'Bout four o'clock?" + +"Why, yes; any time." + +"And you'll fix me up as 'Hawkeye,' and give me a dandy Eagle feather +for killing the Woodchuck, at four o'clock?" + +"Yes, sure, only, why do you want it at four o'clock?" + +But Guy seemed not to hear, and right away after dinner he +disappeared. + +"He's dodging the dishwashing again," suggested the Woodpecker. + +"No, he isn't," said the Second Chief. "I believe he's going to bring +his folks to see him in his triumph." + +"That's so. Let's chip right in and make it an everlasting old +blowout--kind of a new date in history. You'll hear me lie like sixty +to help him out." + +"Good enough. I'm with you. You go and get your folks. I'll go after +old Caleb, and we'll fix it up to call him 'Hawkeye' and give him his +_grand coup_ feather all at once." + +"'Feard my folks and Caleb wouldn't mix," replied Sam, "but I believe +for a splurge like this Guy'd ruther have my folks. You see, Da has +the mortgage on their place." + +So it was agreed Sam was to go for his mother, while Yan was to +prepare the Eagle feather and skin the Woodchuck. + +It was not "as big as a bear," but it was a very large Woodchuck, and +Yan was as much elated over the victory as any of them. He still had +an hour or more before four o'clock, and eager to make Guy's triumph +as Indian as possible, he cut off all the Woodchuck's claws, then +strung them on a string, with a peeled and pithed Elder twig an inch +long between each two. Some of the claws were very, very small, but +the intention was there to make a Grizzly-claw necklace. + +Guy made for home as fast as he could go. His father hailed him as he +neared the garden and evidently had plans of servitude, but Guy +darted into the dining-room-living-room-bedroom-kitchen-room, which +constituted nine-tenths of the house. + +"Oh, Maw, you just ought to seen me; you just want to come this +afternoon--I'm the Jim Dandy of the hull Tribe, an they're going to +make me Head Chief. I killed that whaling old Woodchuck that pooty +nigh killed Paw. They couldn't do a thing without me--them fellers in +camp. They tried an' tried more'n a thousand times to get that old +Woodchuck--yes, I bet they tried a million times, an' I just waited +till they was tired and give up, then I says, 'Now, I'll show you +how.' First I had to point him out. Them fellers is no good to see +things. Then I says, 'Now, Sam and Yan, you fellers stay here, an' +just to show how easy it is when you know how, I'll leave all my +bosenarrers behind an' go with nothing.' Wall, there they stood an' +watched me, an' I s-n-e-a-k-e-d round the fence an' c-r-a-w-l-e-d in +the clover just like an Injun till I got between him an' his hole, and +then I hollers and he come a-snortin' an' a-chatterin' his teeth at +me to chaw me up, for he seen I had no stick nor nothin', an' I never +turned a hair; I kep' cool an' waited till jest as he was going to +jump for my throat, then I turned and gave him one kick on the snoot +that sent him fifty feet in the air, an' when he come down he was +deader'n Kilsey's hen when she was stuffed with onions. Oh, Maw, I'm +just the bully boy; they can't do nothin' in camp 'thout me. I had to +larn 'em to hunt Deer an' see things--an'--an'--an'--lots o' things, +so they are goin' to make me Head Chief of the hull Tribe, an' call +me 'Hawkeye,' too; that's the way the Injuns does. It's to be at four +o'clock this afternoon, an' you got to come." + +Burns scoffed at the whole thing and told Guy to get to work at the +potatoes, and if he left down the bars so that the Pig got out he'd +skin him alive; he would have no such fooling round his place. But Mrs +Burns calmly informed him that _she_ was going. It was to her +much like going to see a university degree conferred on her boy. + +Since Burns would not assist, the difficulty of the children now +arose. This, however, was soon settled. They should go along. It was +two hours' toil for the mother to turn the four brown-limbed, nearly +naked, dirty, happy towsle-tops into four little martyrs, befrocked, +beribboned, becombed and be-booted. Then they all straggled across the +field, Mrs. Burns carrying the baby in one arm and a pot of jam in +the other. Guy ran ahead to show the way, and four-year-old, +three-year-old and two-year-old, hand in hand, formed a diagonal line +in the wake of the mother. + +They were just a little surprised on getting to camp to find Mrs. +Raften and Minnie there in holiday clothes. Marget's first feeling was +resentment, but her second thought was a pleasant one. That "stuck-up" +woman, the enemy's wife, should see her boy's triumph, and Mrs. Burns +at once seized on the chance to play society cat. + +"How do ye do, Mrs. Raften; hope you're well," she said with a tinge +of malicious pleasure and a grand attempt at assuming the leadership. + +"Quite well, thank you. We came down to see how the boys were getting +on in camp." + +"They've got on very nicely _sense my boy j'ined them_," retorted +Mrs. Burns, still fencing. + +"So I understand; the other two have become very fond of him," +returned Mrs. Raften, seeking to disarm her enemy. + +This speech had its effect. Mrs. Burns aimed only to forestall the +foe, but finding to her surprise that the enemy's wife was quite +gentle, a truce was made, and by the time Mrs. Raften had petted and +praised the four tow-tops and lauded Guy to the utmost the air of +latent battle was replaced by one of cordiality. + +The boys now had everything ready for the grand ceremony. On the +Calfskin rug at one end was the Council; Guy, seated on the skin of +the Woodchuck and nearly hiding it from view, Sam on his left hand +and Yan with the drum, on his right. In the middle the Council fire +blazed. To give air, the teepee cover was raised on the shady side and +the circle of visitors was partly in the teepee and partly out. + +The Great War Chief first lighted the peace pipe, puffed for a minute, +then blew off the four smokes to the four winds and handed it to the +Second and Third War Chiefs, who did the same. + +Little Beaver gave three thumps on the drum for silence, and the Great +Woodpecker rose up: + +"Big Chiefs, Little Chiefs, Braves, Warriors, Councillors, Squaws, +and Papooses of the Sanger Indians: When our Tribe was at war with +them--them--them--other Injuns--them Birchbarks, we took prisoner one +of their warriors and tortured him to death two or three times, and he +showed such unusual stuff that we took him into our Tribe--" + +Loud cries of "How--How--How," led by Yan. + +"We gave a sun-dance for his benefit, but he didn't brown--seemed too +green--so we called him Sapwood. From that time he has fought his way +up from the ranks and got to be Third War Chief--" + +"How--How--How." + +"The other day the hull Tribe j'ined to attack an' capture a big +Grizzly and was licked bad, when the War Chief Sapwood came to the +rescue an' settled the owld baste with one kick on the snoot. Deeds +like this is touching. A feller that kin kick like that didn't orter +be called Sapwood nor Saphead nor Sapanything. No, sirree! It ain't +right. He's the littlest Warrior among the War Chiefs, but he kin see +farder an' do it oftener an' better than his betters. He kin see round +a corner or through a tree. 'Cept maybe at night, he's the swell seer +of the outfit, an' the Council has voted to call him 'Hawkeye.'" + +"How--How--How--How--How--" + +Here Little Beaver handed the Head War Chief a flat white stick on +which was written in large letters "Sapwood." + +"Here's the name he went by before he was great an' famous, an' this +is the last of it." The Chief put the stick in the fire, saying, "Now +let us see if you're too green to burn." Little Beaver then handed +Woodpecker a fine Eagle feather, red-tufted, and bearing in outline +a man with a Hawk's head and an arrow from his eye. "This here's a +swagger Eagle feather for the brave deed he done, and tells about him +being Hawkeye, too" (the feather was stuck in Guy's hair and the claw +necklace put about his neck amid loud cries of "How--How--" and thumps +of the drum), "and after this, any feller that calls him Sapwood has to +double up and give Hawkeye a free kick." + +There was a great chorus of "How--How." Guy tried hard to look +dignified and not grin, but it got beyond him. He was smiling right +across and half way round. His mother beamed with pride till her eyes +got moist and overflowed. + +Every one thought the ceremony was over, but Yan stood up and began: +"There is something that has been forgotten, Chiefs, Squaws and +Pappooses of the Sanger Nation: When we went out after this Grizzly I +was witness to a bargain between two of the War Chiefs. According to a +custom of our Tribe, they bet their scalps, each that he would be the +one to kill the Grizzly. The Head Chief Woodpecker was one and Hawkeye +was the other. Hawkeye, you can help yourself to Woodpecker's scalp." + +Sam had forgotten about this, but he bowed his head. Guy cut the +string, and holding up the scalp, he uttered a loud, horrible +war-whoop which every one helped with some sort of noise. It was the +crowning event. Mrs. Burns actually wept for joy to see her heroic boy +properly recognized at last. + +Then she went over to Sam and said, "Did you bring your folks here to +see my boy get praised?" + +Sam nodded and twinkled an eye. + +"Well, I don't care who ye are, Raften or no Raften, you got a good +heart, an' it's in the right place. I never did hold with them as says +'There ain't no good in a Raften.' I always hold there's some good in +every human. I know your Paw _did_ buy the mortgage on our place, +but I never did believe your Maw stole our Geese, _an' I never +will_, an' next time I hear them runnin' on the Raftens I'll jest +open out an' tell what I know." + +[Illustration: The picture on the Teepee Lining, to record Guy's +Exploit.] + + + + +XXII + +The Coon Hunt + + +Yan did not forget the proposed Coon hunt--in fact, he was most +impatient for it, and within two days the boys came to Caleb about +sundown and reminded him of his promise. It was a sultry night, but +Yan was sure it was just right for a Coon hunt, and his enthusiasm +carried all before it. Caleb was quietly amused at the "_cool +night_" selected, but reckoned it would be "better later." + +"Set down--set down, boys," he said, seeing them standing ready for an +immediate start. "There's no hurry. Coons won't be running for three +or four hours after sundown." + +So he sat and smoked, while Sam vainly tried to get acquainted with +old Turk; Yan made notes on some bird wings nailed to the wall, +and Guy got out the latest improved edition of his exploits in +Deer-hunting and Woodchuck killing, as well as enlarged on his plans +for gloriously routing any Coon they might encounter. + +By insisting that it would take an hour to get to the place, Yan +got them started at nine o'clock, Caleb, on a suggestion from Guy, +carrying a small axe. Keeping old Turk well in hand, they took the +highway, and for half an hour tramped on toward the "Corners." Led by +Sam, they climbed a fence crossed a potato field, and reached the corn +patch by the stream. + +"Go ahead, Turk. Sic him! Sic him! Sic him!" and the company sat in a +row on the fence to await developments. + +Turk was somewhat of a character. He hunted what he pleased and when +he pleased. His master could bring him on the Coon grounds, but he +couldn't make him hunt Coon nor anything else unless it suited his own +fancy. Caleb had warned the boys to be still, and they sat along the +fence in dead silence, awaiting the summons from the old Hound. He had +gone off beating and sniffing among the cornstalks. His steps sounded +very loud and his sniffs like puffs of steam. It was a time of tense +attention; but the Hound wandered, farther away, and even his noisy +steps were lost. + +They had sat for two long minutes, when a low yelp from a distant part +of the field, then a loud "_bow-wow"_ from the Hound, set Yan's +heart jumping. + +"Game afoot," said Sam in a low voice. + +"Bet I heered him first," piped Guy. + +Yan's first thought was to rush pell-mell after the Dog. He had often +read of the hunt following furiously the baying of the Hounds, but +Caleb restrained him. + +"Hold on, boy; plenty of time. Don't know yet what it is." + +For Turk, like most frontier Hounds, would run almost any trail--had +even been accused of running on his own--and it rested with those who +knew him best to discover from his peculiar style of tonguing just +what the game might be. But they waited long and patiently without +getting another bay from the Hound. Presently a rustling was heard and +Turk came up to his master and lay down at his feet. + +"Go ahead, Turk, put him up," but the Dog stirred not. "Go ahead," and +Caleb gave him a rap with a small stick. The Dog dodged away, but lay +down again, panting. + +"What was it, Mr. Clark?" demanded Yan. + +"Don't hardly know. Maybe he only spiked himself on a snag. But this +is sure; there's no Coons here to-night. There won't be after this. We +come too early, and it's too hot for the Dog, anyway." + +"We could cross the creek and go into Boyle's bush," suggested the +Woodpecker. "We're like to strike anything there. Larry de Neuville +swears he saw a Unicorn there the night he came back from Garney's +wake." + +"How can you tell the kind of game by the Dog's barking?" asked Yan. + +"H-m!" answered Caleb, as he put a fresh quid in his lantern jaw. "You +surely can if you know the country an' the game an' the Dog. Course, +no two Dogs is alike; you got to study your Dog, an' if he's good +he'll larn you lots about trailing." + +The brook was nearly dry now, so they crossed where they would. Then +feeling their way through the dark woods with eyes for the most part +closed, they groped toward Boyle's open field, then across it to the +heavy timber. Turk had left them at the brook, and, following its +course till he came to a pool, had had a bath. As they entered the +timber tract he joined them, dripping wet and ready for business. + +"Go ahead, Turk," and again all sat down to await the opinion of the +expert. + +It came quickly. The old Hound, after circling about in a way that +seemed to prove him independent of daylight, began to sniff loudly, +and gave a low whine. He followed a little farther, and now his tail +was heard to '_tap, tap, tap_' the brush as he went through a dry +thicket. + +"Hear that? He's got something this time," said Caleb in a low voice. +"Wait a little." + +The Hound was already working out a puzzle, and when at last he got +far enough to be sure, he gave a short bark. There was another +spell of sniffing, then another bark, then several little barks at +intervals, and at last a short bay; then the baying recommenced, but +was irregular and not full-chested. The sounds told that the Hound was +running in a circle about the forest, but at length ceased moving, +for all the barking was at one place. When the hunters got there +they found the Dog half-way in a hole under a stump, barking and +scratching. + +"Humph," said Caleb; "nothing but a Cottontail. Might 'a' knowed that +by the light scent an' the circling without treeing." + +So Turk was called off and the company groped through the inky woods +in quest of more adventures. + +"There's a kind of swampy pond down the lower end of the bush--a +likely place for Coons on a Frog-hunt," suggested the Woodpecker. + +So the Hound was again "turned on" near the pond. The dry woods were +poor for scent, but the damp margin of the marsh proved good, and Turk +became keenly interested and very sniffy. A preliminary "_Woof!_" +was followed by one or two yelps and then a full-chested +"_Boooow!"_ that left no doubt he had struck a hot trail at last. +Oh, what wonderfully thrilling horn-blasts those were! Yan for the +first time realized the power of the "full cry," whose praises are so +often sung. + +The hunters sat down to await the result, for, as Caleb pointed out, +there was "no saying where the critter might run." + +The Hound bayed his fullest, roundest notes at quick intervals, but +did not circle. The sound of his voice told them that the chase was +straight away, out of the woods, easterly across an open field, and at +a hot pace, with regular, full bellowing, unbroken by turn or doubt. + +"I believe he's after the old Callaghan Fox," said the Trapper. +"They've tried it together before now, an' there ain't anything but a +Fox will run so straight and fetch such a tune out of Turk." + +The baying finally was lost in the distance, probably a mile away, but +there was nothing for it but to wait. If Turk had been a full-bred and +trained Foxhound he would have stuck to that trail all night, but in +half an hour he returned, puffing and hot, to throw himself into the +shallow pond. + +"Everything scared away now," remarked Caleb. "We might try the other +side of the pond." Once or twice the dog became interested, but +decided that there was nothing in it, and returned to pant by his +master's feet. + +They had now travelled so far toward home that a very short cut across +fields would bring them into their own woods. + +The moon arose as they got there, and after their long groping in the +murky darkness this made the night seem very bright and clear. + +They had crossed the brook below Granny de Neuville's, and were +following the old timber trail that went near the stream, when Turk +stopped to sniff, ran back and forth two or three times, then stirred +the echoes with a full-toned bugle blast and led toward the water. + +"_Bow--bow--bow--bow_," he bawled for forty yards and came to a +stop. The baying was exactly the same that he gave on the Fox trail, +but the course of the animal was crooked, and now there was a break. + +They could hear the dog beating about close at hand and far away, but +silent so far as tongue was concerned. + +"What is it, Caleb?" said Sam with calm assurance, forgetting how +recent was their acquaintance. + +"Dunno," was the short reply. + +"'Tisn't a Fox, is it?" asked Yan. + +But a sudden renewal of "_Bow--bow--bow--_" from the Hound one +hundred yards away, at the fence, ended all discussion. The dog had +the hot trail again. The break had been along the line of a fence that +showed, as Caleb said, "It was a Coon, 'cept it might be some old +house Cat maybe; them was the only things that would run along top of +a fence in the night time." + +It was easy to follow now; the moonlight was good, and the baying of +the Hound was loud and regular. It led right down the creek, crossing +several pools and swamps. + +"That settles it," remarked the Trapper decisively. "Cats don't take +to the water. That's a Coon," and as they hurried they heard a sudden +change in the dog's note, no longer a deep rich '_B-o-o-w-w_.' It +became an outrageous clamour of mingled yelps, growls and barks. + +"Ha--heh. That means he's right on it. That is what he does when he +_sees_ the critter." + +But the "view halloo" was quickly dropped and the tonguing of the dog +was now in short, high-pitched yelps _at one place_. + +"Jest so! He's treed! That's a Coon, all right!" and Caleb led +straight for the place. + +The Hound was barking and leaping against a big Basswood, and Caleb's +comment was: "Hm, never knowed a Coon to do any other way--always gets +up the highest and tarnalest tree to climb in the hull bush. Now who's +the best climber here?" + +"Yan is," volunteered Sam. + +"Kin ye do it, Yan?" + +"I'll try." + +"Guess we'll make a fire first and see if we can't see him," said the +Woodpecker. + +"If it was a Woodchuck I'd soon get him for you," chimed in Hawkeye, +but no one heeded. + +Sam and Yan gathered stuff and soon had a flood of flickering red +light on all the surrounding trees. They scanned the big Basswood +without getting sight of their quarry. Caleb took a torch and found on +the bark some fresh mud. By going back on the trail to where it had +crossed the brook they found the footprint--undoubtedly that of a +large Coon. + +"Reckon he's in some hollow; he's surely up that tree, and Basswood's +are always hollow." + +Yan now looked at the large trunk in doubt as to whether he could +manage it. + +Caleb remarked his perplexity and said: "Yes; that's so. You ain't +fifteen foot spread across the wings, are you? But hold on--" + +He walked to a tall thin tree near at hand, cut it through with the +axe in a few minutes, and threw it so as to rest against the lowest +branch of the big Basswood. Up this Yan easily swarmed, carrying a +stout Elm stick tied behind. When he got to the great Basswood he felt +lost in the green mass, but the boys below carried torches so as to +shed light on each part in turn. At first Yan found neither hole in +the trunk nor Coon, but after long search in the upper branches he saw +a great ball of fur on a high crotch and in it two glowing eyes that +gave him a thrill. He yelled: "Here he is! Look out below." He climbed +up nearer and tried to push the Coon off, but it braced itself firmly +and defied him until he climbed above it, when it leaped and scrambled +to a lower branch. + +Yan followed it, while his companions below got greatly excited, as +they could see nothing, and only judged by the growling and snarling +that Yan and the Coon were fighting. After another passage at arms +the Coon left the second crotch and scrambled down the trunk till it +reached the leaning sapling, and there perched, glaring at the hunters +below. The old Hound raised a howl when he saw the quarry, and Caleb, +stepping to one side, drew his revolver and fired. The Coon fell dead +into their midst. Turk sprang to do battle, but he was not needed, and +Caleb fondly and proudly wiped the old white pistol as though it alone +were to be thanked for the clever shot. + +Yan came down quickly, though he found it harder to get down than up. +He hurried excitedly into the ring and stroked the Coon with a mixture +of feelings--admiring its fur--sorry, after all, that it was killed, +and triumphant that he had led the way. _It was his Coon_, and +all admitted that. Sam "hefted" it by one leg and said, "Weighs thirty +pounds, I bet." + +Guy said: "Pooh! Tain't half as big as that there big Woodchuck I +killed, an' you never would have got him if I hadn't thought of the +axe." + +Yan thought it would weigh thirty-five pounds. Caleb guessed it at +twenty-five (and afterward they found out that it barely weighed +eighteen). While they were thus talking the Dog broke into an angry +barking such as he gave for strangers--his "human voice," Caleb called +it--and at once there stepped into the circle William Raften. He had +seen the lights in the woods, and, dreading a fire at this dry season, +had dressed and come out. + +"Hello, Da; why ain't you in bed, where you ought to be?" + +Raften took no notice of his son, but said sneeringly to Caleb: "Ye +ain't out trying to get another shot at me, air ye?" 'Tain't worth +your while; I hain't got no cash on me to-night." + +"Now see here, Da," said Sam, interrupting before Caleb could answer, +"you don't play fair. I know, an' you ought to know, that's all rot +about Caleb shooting at you. If he had, he'd 'a' got you sure. I've +seen him shoot." + +"Not when he was drunk." + +"Last time I was drunk we was in it together," said Caleb fiercely, +finding his voice. + +"Purty good for a man as swore he had no revolver," and Raften pointed +to Caleb's weapon. "I seen you with that ten years ago. An' sure +I'm not scairt of you an' yer revolver," said Raften, seeing Caleb +fingering his white pet; "an' I tell ye this. I won't have ye and yer +Sheep-killing cur ramatacking through my woods an' making fires this +dry saison." + +"D---- you, Raften, I've stood all I'm goin' to stand from you." The +revolver was out in a flash, and doubtless Caleb would have lived up +to his reputation, but Sam, springing to push his father back, came +between, and Yan clung to Caleb's revolver arm, while Guy got safely +behind a tree. + +"Get out o' the way, you kids!" snarled Caleb. + +"By all manes," said Raften scoffingly; "now that he's got me +unarrumed again. You dhirty coward! Get out av the way, bhoys, an +Oi'll settle him," for Raften was incapable of fear, and the boys +would have been thrust aside and trouble follow, but that Raften as he +left the house had called his two hired men to follow and help fight +the fire, and now they came on the scene. One of them was quite +friendly with Caleb, the other neutral, and they succeeded in stopping +hostilities for a time, while Sam exploded: + +"Now see here, Da, 'twould just 'a' served you right if you'd got a +hole through you. You make me sick, running on Caleb. He didn't make +that fire; 'twas me an' Yan, an' we'll put it out safe enough. You +skinned Caleb an' he never done you no harm. You run on him just as +Granny de Neuville done on you after she grabbed your groceries. You +ought to be ashamed of yourself. Tain't square, an' 'tain't being a +man. When you can't prove nothin' you ought to shut up." + +Raften was somewhat taken aback by this outburst, especially as he +found all the company against him. He had often laughed at Granny de +Neuville's active hatred against him when he had done her nothing but +good. It never occurred to him that he was acting a similar part. Most +men would have been furious at the disrespectful manner of their son, +but Raften was as insensitive as he was uncowardly. His first shock +of astonishment over, his only thought of Sam was, "Hain't he got a +cheek! My! but he talks like a lawyer, an' he sasses right back like a +fightin' man; belave I'll make him study law instid of tooth-pullin'." + +The storm was over, for Caleb's wrath was of the short and fierce +kind, and Raften, turning away in moral defeat, growled: "See that ye +put that fire out safe. Ye ought all to be in yer beds an' aslape, +like dacint folks." + +"Well, ain't you dacint?" retorted Sam. + +Raften turned away, heeding neither that nor Guy's shrill attempt +to interpolate some details of his own importance in this present +hunt--"Ef it hadn't been for me they wouldn't had no axe along, Mr. +Raften"--but William had disappeared. + +The boys put out the fire carefully and made somewhat silently for +camp. Sam and Yan carried the Coon between them on a stick, and before +they reached the teepee they agreed that the carcass weighed at least +eighty pounds. + +Caleb left them, and they all turned in at once and slept the sleep of +the tired camper. + + + + +XXIII + +The Banshee's Wail and the Huge Night Prowler + + +Next day while working on the Coon-skin Sam and Yan discussed +thoroughly the unpleasant incident of the night before, but they +decided that it would be unwise to speak of it to Caleb unless he +should bring up the subject, and Guy was duly cautioned. + +That morning Yan went to the mud albums on one of his regular rounds +and again found, first that curious hoof-mark that had puzzled +him before, and down by the pond album the track of a very large +bird--much like a Turkey track, indeed. He brought Caleb to see them. +The Trapper said that one was probably the track of a Blue Crane +(Heron), and the other, "Well, I don't hardly know; but it looks to me +mighty like the track of a big Buck--only there ain't any short of the +Long Swamp, and that's ten miles at least. Of course, _when there's +only out it ain't a track_; it's an accident." + +"Yes; but I've found lots of them--a trail every time, but not quite +enough to follow." + +That night after dark, when he was coming to camp with the product of +a "massacree," Yan heard a peculiar squawking, guttural sound that +rose from the edge of the pond and increased in strength, drawing +nearer, till it was a hideous and terrifying uproar. It was exactly +the sound that Guy had provoked on that first night when he came and +tried to frighten the camp. It passed overhead, and Yan saw for a +moment the form of a large slow-flying bird. + +Next day it was Yan's turn to cook. At sunrise, as he went for water, +he saw a large Blue Heron rise from the edge of the pond and fly on +heavy pinions away over the tree-tops. It was a thrilling sight. The +boy stood gazing after it, absolutely rapt with delight, and when it +was gone he went to the place where it rose and found plenty of large +tracks just like the one he had sketched. Unquestionably it was the +same bird as on the night before, and the mystery of the Wolf with the +sore throat was solved. This explanation seemed quite satisfactory to +everybody but Guy. He had always maintained stoutly that the woods +were full of Bears right after sundown. Where they went at other times +was a mystery, but he "reckoned he hadn't yet run across the bird that +could scare him--no, nor the beast, nuther." + +Caleb agreed that the grating cry must be that of the Blue Crane, but +the screech and wail in the tree-tops at night he could shed no light +on. + +There were many other voices of the night that became more or less +familiar. Some of them were evidently birds; one was the familiar +Song-Sparrow, and high over the tree-tops from the gloaming sky they +often heard a prolonged sweet song. It was not till years afterward +that Yan found out this to be the night-song of the Oven-bird, but he +was able to tell them at once the cause of the startling outcry that +happened one evening an hour after sundown. + +The Woodpecker was outside, the other two inside the teepee. A +peculiar sound fell on his ear. It kept on--a succession of long +whines, and getting stronger. As it gave no sign of ending, Sam called +the other boys. They stood in a row there and heard this peculiar +"_whine, whine, whine_" develop into a loud, harsh "_whow, +whow, whow_." + +"It must be some new Heron cry," Yan whispered. + +But the sound kept on increasing till it most resembled the yowling +of a very strong-voiced Cat, and still grew till each separate +"_meow_" might have been the yell of a Panther. Then at its +highest and loudest there was a prolonged "_meow"_ and silence, +followed finally by the sweet chant of the Song-sparrow. + +A great light dawned on Little Beaver. Now he remembered that voice in +Glenyan so long ago, and told the others with an air of certainty: + +"Boys, that's the yelling of a Lynx," and the next day Caleb said that +Yan was right. + +Some days later they learned that another lamb had been taken from the +Raften flock that night. + +In the morning Yan took down the tom-tom for a little music and found +it flat and soft. + +"Hallo," said he; "going to rain." + +Caleb looked up at him with an amused expression. "You're a reg'lar +Injun. It's surely an Injun trick that. When the tom-tom won't sing +without being warmed at the fire they allus says 'rain before night.'" + +The Trapper stayed late that evening. It had been cloudy all the +afternoon, and at sundown it began to rain, so he was invited to +supper. The shower grew heavier instead of ending. Caleb went out and +dug a trench all round the teepee to catch the rain, then a leader to +take it away. After supper they sat around the campfire in the teepee; +the wind arose and the rain beat down. Yan had to go out and swing the +smoke poles, and again his ear was greeted with _the screech_. He +brought in an armful of wood and made the inside of the teepee a blaze +of cheerful light. A high wind now came in gusts, so that the canvas +flopped unpleasantly on the poles. + +"Where's your anchor rope?" asked the Trapper. + +Sam produced the loose end; the other was fastened properly to the +poles above. It had never been used, for so far the weather had been +fine; but now Caleb sunk a heavy stake, lashed the anchor rope to that, +then went out and drove all the pegs a little deeper, and the Tribe +felt safe from any ordinary storm. + +There was nothing to attract the old Trapper to his own shanty. His +heirs had begun to forget that he needed food, and what little they +did send was of vilest quality. The old man was as fond of human +society as any one, and was easily persuaded now to stay all night, +"if you can stand Guy for a bedfeller." So Caleb and Turk settled down +for a comfortable evening within, while the storm raged without. + +"Say, don't you touch that canvas, Guy; you'll make it leak." + +"What, me? Oh, pshaw! How can it leak for a little thing like that?" +and Guy slapped it again in bravado. + +"All right, it's on your side of the bed," and sure enough, within two +minutes a little stream of water was trickling from the place he had +rubbed, while elsewhere the canvas turned every drop. + +This is well known to all who have camped under canvas during a storm, +and is more easily remembered than explained. + +The smoke hung heavy in the top of the teepee and kept crowding down +until it became unpleasant. + +"Lift the teepee cover on the windward side, Yan. There, that's +it--but hold on," as a great gust came in, driving the smoke and ashes +around in whirlwinds. "You had ought to have a lining. Give me that +canvas: that'll do." Taking great care not to touch the teepee cover, +Caleb fastened the lining across three pole spaces so that the opening +under the canvas was behind it. This turned the draught from their +backs and, sending it over their heads, quickly cleared the teepee of +smoke as well as kept off what little rain entered by the smoke hole. + +"It's on them linings the Injuns paint their records and adventures. +They mostly puts their totems on the outside an' their records on the +lining." + +"Bully," said Sam; "now there's a job for you. Little Beaver; by the +time you get our adventures on the inside and our totems on the out I +tell you we'll be living in splendour." + +"I think," answered Yan indirectly, "we ought to take Mr. Clark into +the Tribe. Will you be our Medicine Man?" Caleb chuckled in a quiet +way, apparently consenting. "Now I have four totems to paint on the +outside," and this was the beginning of the teepee painting that Yan +carried out with yellow clay, blue clay dried to a white, yellow clay +burned to red, and charcoal, all ground in Coon grease and Pine gum, +to be properly Indian. He could easily have gotten bright colours +in oil paint, but scorned such White-man's truck, and doubtless the +general effect was all the better for it. + +"Say, Caleb," piped Guy, "tell us about the Injuns--about their +bravery. Bravery is what _I_ like," he added with emphasis, +conscious of being now on his own special ground. "Why, I mind the +time that old Woodchuck was coming roaring at me--I bet some fellers +would just 'a' been so scared--" + +"_Hssh!_" said Sam. + +Caleb smoked in silence. The rain pattered on the teepee without; the +wind heaved the cover. They all sat silently. Then sounded loud +and clear a terrifying "_scrrrrrr--oouwurr_." The boys were +startled--would have been terrified had they been outside or alone. + +"That's it--that's the Banshee," whispered Sam. + +Caleb looked up sharply. + +"What is it?" queried Yan. "We've heard it a dozen times, at least." + +Caleb shook his head, made no reply, but turned to his Dog. Turk was +lying on his side by the fire, and at this piercing screech he had +merely lifted his head, looked backward over his shoulder, turned his +big sad eyes on his master, then laid down again. + +"Turk don't take no stock in it." + +"Dogs never hear a Banshee," objected Sam, "no more than they can see +a ghost; anyway, that's what Granny de Neuville says." So the Dog's +negative testimony was the reverse of comforting. + +"Hawkeye," said the Woodpecker, "you're the bravest one of the crowd. +Don't you want to go out and try a shot at the Banshee? I'll lend you +my Witch-hazel arrow. We'll give you a _grand coup_ feather if +you hit him. Go ahead, now--you know bravery is what _you_ like." + +"Yer nothin' but a passel o' blame dumb fools," was the answer, "an' I +wouldn't be bothered talking to ye. Caleb, tell us something about the +Indians." + +"What the Injuns love is bravery," said the Medicine Man with a +twinkle in his eye, and everybody but Guy laughed, not very loudly, +for each was restrained by the thought that _he_ would rather not +be called upon to show his bravery to-night. + +"I'm going to bed," said Hawkeye with unnecessary energy. + +"Don't forget to roost under the waterspout you started when you got +funny," remarked the Woodpecker. + +Yan soon followed Guy's example, and Sam, who had already learned to +smoke, sat up with Caleb. Not a word passed between them until after +Guy's snore and Yan's regular puffs told of sound sleep, when Sam, +taking advantage of a long-awaited chance, opened out rather abruptly: + +"Say, Caleb, I ain't going to side with no man against Da, but I know +him just about as well as he knows me. Da's all right; he's plumb and +square, and way down deep he's got an awful kind heart; it's pretty +deep, I grant you, but it's there, O.K. The things he does on the +quiet to help folks is done on the quiet and ain't noticed. The things +he does to beat folks--an' he does do plenty--is talked all over +creation. But I know he has a wrong notion of you, just as you have of +him, and it's got to be set right." + +Sam's good sense was always evident, and now, when he laid aside his +buffoonery, his voice and manner were very impressive--more like those +of a grown man than of a fifteen-year-old boy. + +Caleb simply grunted and went on smoking, so Sam continued, "I want to +hear your story, then Ma an' me'll soon fix Da." + +The mention of "Ma" was a happy stroke. Caleb had known her from youth +as a kind-hearted girl. She was all gentleness and obedience to her +husband except in matters of what she considered right and wrong, and +here she was immovable. She had always believed in Caleb, even after +the row, and had not hesitated to make known her belief. + +"There ain't much to tell," replied Caleb bitterly. "He done me on +that Horse-trade, an' crowded me on my note so I had to pay it off +with oats at sixty cents, then he turned round and sold them within +half an hour for seventy-five cents. We had words right there, an' I +believe I did say I'd fix him for it. I left Downey's Dump early that +day. He had about $300 in his pocket--$300 of my money--the last I had +in the world. He was too late to bank it, so was taking it home, when +he was fired at in going through the 'green bush'. My tobacco pouch +and some letters addressed to me was found there in the morning. +Course he blamed me, but I didn't have any shootin'-iron then; my +revolver, the white one, was stole from me a week before--along with +them same letters, I expect. I consider they was put there to lay the +blame on me, an' it was a little overdone, most folks would think. +Well, then your Da set Dick Pogue on me, an' I lost my farm--that's +all." + +Sam smoked gravely for awhile, then continued: + +"That's true about the note an' the oats an' the Horse-trade--just +what Da would do; that's all in the game: but you're all wrong about +Dick Pogue--that's too dirty for Da." + +"_You_ may think so, but _I don't_." + +Sam made no answer, but after a minute laid his hand on Turk, who +responded with a low growl. This made Caleb continue: "Down on me, +down on my Dog. Pogue says he kills Sheep 'an' every one is ready to +believe it. I never knowed a Hound turn Sheep-killer, an' I never +knowed a Sheep-killer kill at home, an' I never knowed a Sheep-killer +content with one each night, an' I never knowed a Sheep-killer leave +no tracks, an' Sheep was killed again and again when Turk was locked +up in the shanty with me." + +"Well, whose Dog is it does it?" + +"I don't know as it's any Dog, for part of the Sheep was eat each +time, they say, though I never seen one o' them that was killed or I +could tell. It's more likely a Fox or a Lynx than a Dog." + +There was a long silence, then outside again the hair-lifting screech +to which the Dog paid no heed, although the Trapper and the boy were +evidently startled and scared. + +They made up a blazing fire and turned in silently for the night. + +The rain came down steadily, and the wind swept by in gusts. It was +the Banshee's hour, and two or three times, as they were dropping off, +that fearful, quavering human wail, "like a woman in distress," came +from the woods to set their hearts a-jumping, not Caleb and Sam only, +but all four. + +In the diary which Yan kept of those times each day was named after +its event; there was Deer day, Skunk-and-Cat day, Blue Crane day, and +this was noted down as the night of the Banshee's wailing. + +Caleb was up and had breakfast ready before the others were fully +awake. They had carefully kept and cleaned the Coon meat, and Caleb +made of it a "prairie pie," in which bacon, potatoes, bread, one small +onion and various scraps of food were made important. This, warmed +up for breakfast and washed down with coffee, made a royal meal, and +feasting they forgot the fears of the night. + +The rain was over, but the wind kept on. Great blockish clouds were +tumbling across the upper sky Yan went out to look for tracks. He +found none but those of raindrops. + +The day was spent chiefly about camp, making arrows and painting the +teepee. + +Again Caleb was satisfied to sleep in the camp. The Banshee called +once that night, and again Turk seemed not to hear, but half an hour +later there was a different and much lower sound outside, a light, +nasal "_wow_." The boys scarcely heard it, but Turk sprang up +with bristling hair, growling, and forcing his way out under the door, +he ran, loudly barking, into the woods. + +"He's after something now, all right," said his master; "and now he's +treed it," as the Dog began his high-pitched yelps. + +"Good old Dog; he's treed the Banshee," and Yan rushed out into +the darkness. The others followed, and they found Turk barking and +scratching at a big leaning Beech, but could get no hint of what the +creature up it might be like. + +"How does he usually bark for a Banshee?" asked the Woodpecker, but +got no satisfaction, and wondering why Turk should bother himself so +mightily over a little squeal and never hear that awful scream, they +retired to camp. + +Next morning in the mud not far from the teepee Yan found the track of +a common Cat, and shrewdly guessed that this was the prowler that had +been heard and treed by the Dog; probably it was his old friend of the +Skunk fight. The wind was still high, and as Yan pored over the tracks +he heard for the first time in broad daylight the appalling screech. +It certainly was _loud_, though less dreadful than at night, and +peering up Yan saw _two large limbs that crossed and rubbed each +other, when the right puff of wind came_. This was the Banshee that +did the wailing that had scared them all--_all but the Dog_. His +keener senses, unspoiled by superstition, had rightly judged the awful +sound as the harmless scraping of two limbs in the high wind, but the +lower, softer noise made by the prowling Cat he had just as truly +placed and keenly followed up. + +Guy was the only one not convinced. He clung to his theory of Bears. + +Late in the night the two Chiefs were awakened by Guy. "Say, Sam--Sam. +Yan--Yan--Yan--Yan, get up; that big Bear is 'round again. I told you +there was a Bear, an' you wouldn't believe me." + +There was a loud champing sound outside, and occasionally growls or +grumbling. + +"There's surely something there, Sam. I wish Turk and Caleb were here +now." + +The boys opened the door a little and peered out. There, looming up in +the dim starlight, was a huge black animal, picking up scraps of meat +and digging up the tins that were buried in the garbage hole. All +doubts were dispelled. Guy had another triumph, and he would have +expressed his feelings to the full but for fear of the monster +outside. + +"What had we better do?" + +"Better not shoot him with arrows. That'll only rile him. Guy, you +blow up the coals and get a blaze." + +All was intense excitement now, "Oh, why haven't we got a gun!" + +"Say, Sam, while Sap--I mean Hawkeye--makes a blaze, let's you and me +shoot with blunt arrows, if the Bear comes toward the teepee." So they +arranged themselves, Guy puttering in terror at the fire and begging +them not to shoot. + +"What's the good o' riling him? It--it--it's croo-oo-el." + +Sam and Yan stood with bows ready and arrows nocked. + +Guy was making a failure of the fire, and the Bear began nosing +nearer, champing his teeth and grunting. Now the boys could see the +great ears as the monster threw up its head. + +"Let's shoot before he gets any nearer." At this Guy promptly +abandoned further attempts to make a fire and scrambled up on a cross +stick that was high in the teepee for hanging the pot. He broke out +into tears when he saw Sam and Yan actually drawing their bows. + +"He'll come in and eat us, he will." + +But the Bear was coming anyway, and having the two tomahawks ready, +the boys let fly. At once the Bear wheeled and ran off, uttering the +loud, unmistakable squeal of an old Pig--Burns's own Pig--for young +Burns had again forgotten to put up the bars that crossed his trail +from the homestead to the camp. + +Guy came down quickly to join in the laugh. "I tole you fellers not to +shoot. I just believed it was our old Hog, an' I couldn't help crying +when I thought how mad Paw'd be when he found out." + +"I s'pose you got up on that cross pole to see if Paw was coming, +didn't you?" + +"No; he got up there to show how brave he was." + +This was the huge night prowler that Guy had seen, and in the morning +one more mystery was explained, for careful examination of Yan's diary +of the big Buck's track showed that it was nothing more than the track +of Burns's old Hog. Why had Caleb and Raften both been mistaken? +First, because it was a long time since they had seen a Buck track, +and second, because this Pig happened to have a very unpiggy foot--one +as much like that of a Buck as of a Hog. + + + + +XXIV + +Hawkeye Claims Another Grand Coup + + +"_Wa wa wa wa wa! Wa wa wa wa wa! Wa wa wa wa wa!_" Three times it +echoed through the woods--a loud, triumphant cry. + +"That's Hawkeye with a big story of bravery; let's hide." + +So Sam and Yan scrambled quickly into the teepee, hid behind the +lining and watched through an "arrow hole." Guy came proudly stepping, +chin in air, uttering his war-whoop at intervals as he drew near, and +carrying his coat bundled up under one arm. + +"_Coup! Grand coup! Wa wa wa wa!_" he yelled again and again, but +looked simple and foolish when he found the camp apparently deserted. + +So he ceased his yells and, walking deliberately into the teepee, +pulled out the sugar box and was stuffing a handful into his mouth +when the other two Chiefs let off their wildest howls and, leaping +from their concealment, chased him into the woods--not far, for Yan +laughed too much, and Sam had on but one boot. + +This was their re-gathering after a new search for adventures. Early +in the morning, as he wiped off the breakfast knives by sticking them +into the sod, the Second War Chief had suggested: "Say, boys, in old +days Warriors would sometimes set out in different directions in +search of adventure, then agree to meet at a given time. Let's do that +to-day and see what we run across." + +"Get your straws," was Woodpecker's reply, as he returned from putting +the scraps on the Wakan Rock. + +"No you don't," put in Hawkeye hastily; "at least, not unless you let +me hold the straws. I know you'll fix it so I'll have to go home." + +"All right. You can hold the three straws; long one is +Woodpecker--that's his head with a bit of red flannel to prevent +mistakes; the middle-sized thin one is me; and the short fat one is +you. Now let them drop. Sudden death and no try over." + +The straws fell, and the two boys gave a yell as Hawkeye's fate +pointed straight to the Burns homestead. + +"Oh, get out; that's no good. We'll take the other end," he said +angrily, and persisted in going the opposite way. + +"Now we all got to go straight till we find something, and meet here +again when that streak of sunlight gets around in the teepee to that +pole." + +As the sunstreak, which was their Indian clock, travelled just about +one pole for two hours, this gave about four hours for adventures. + +Sam and Yan had been back some minutes, and now Guy, having recovered +his composure, bothered not to wipe the stolen sugar from his lips, +but broke out eagerly: + +"Say, fellers, I bet I'm the bully boy. I bet you I--" + +"Silence!" roared Woodpecker. "You come last." + +"All right; I don't care. I bet I win over all of you. I bet a million +dollars I do." + +"Go ahead, Chief Woodpecker-settin'-on-the-edge." + +So Sam began: + +"I pulls on my boots" [he went barefooted half the time]. "Oh, I tell +you I know when to wear my boots--an' I set out following my straw +line straight out. I don't take no back track. _I'm_ not scared +of the front trail," and he turned his little slit eyes sadly on Guy, +"and I kep' right on, and when I came to the dry bed of the creek it +didn't turn _me_; no, not a dozen rods; and I kept right till I +came to a Wasp's nest, and I turned and went round that coz it's +cruel to go blundering into a nest of a lot of poor innocent little +Wasps--and I kep' on, till I heard a low growl, and I looked up and +didn't see a thing. Then the growling got louder, and I seen it was a +hungry Chipmunk roaring at me and jest getting ready to spring. Then +when I got out my bonearrer he says to me, he says, as bold as brass +'Is your name Woodpecker?' Now that scared me, and so I told a lie--my +very first. I says, says I. 'No,' says I. 'I'm Hawkeye.' Well, you +should 'a seen him. He just turned pale; every stripe on his back +faded _when I said that name_, and he made for a hollow log and +got in. Now I was mad, and tried to get him out, but when I'd run to +one end he'd run to the other, so we ran up and down till I had a +deep-worn trail alongside the log, an' he had a deep-worn trail inside +the log, an' I was figgerin' to have him wear it right through at the +bottom so the log'd open, but all of a sudden I says, 'I know what to +do for you.' I took off my boot and stuffs the leg into one end of the +log. Then I rattles a stick at the other end and I heard him run into +the boot. Then I squeezes in the leg and ties a string around it an' +brings him home, me wearing one boot and the Chipmunk the other, and +there he is in it now," and Sam curled up his free bunch of toes in +graphic comment and added: "Humph! I s'pose you fellers thought I +didn't know what I was about when I drawed on my long boots this +morning." + +"Well, I just want to see that Chipmunk an' maybe I'll believe you." + +"In there hunting for a loose patch," and Sam held up the boot. + +"Let's turn him out," suggested the Second Chief. + +So the string was cut and the Chipmunk scrambled out and away to a +safer refuge. + +"Now, sonny," said Sam, as it disappeared, "don't tell your folks what +happened you or they'll swat you for a liar." + +"Oh, shucks! That's no adventure. Why, I--" + +"Hold on, Hawkeye; Little Beaver next." + +"Well, I don't care. I bet I--" + +Sam grabbed his knife and interrupted: "Do you know what Callahan's +spring lamb did when it saw the old man gathering mint? Go ahead, +Little Beaver." + +"I hadn't much of an adventure, but I went straight through the woods +where my straw pointed and ran into a big dead stub. It was too old +and rotten for Birds to use now, as well as too late in the season, so +I got a pole and pushed it over, and I found the whole history of a +tenement in that stub. First of all, a Flicker had come years ago +and dug put a fine big nesting-place, and used it maybe two or three +times. When he was through, or maybe between seasons, the Chickadees +made a winter den of it, for there were some Chickadee tail-feathers +in the bottom. Next a Purple Blackbird came and used the hole, piling +up a lot of roots with mud on them. Next year it seems it came again +and made another nest on top of the last; then that winter the +Chickadees again used it for a cubby-hole, for there were some more +Chickadee feathers. Next year a Blue Jay found it out and nested +there. I found some of her egg-shells among the soft stuff of the +nest. Then I suppose a year after a pair of Sparrow-hawks happened on +the place, found it suited them, and made their nest in it and hatched +a brood of little Sparrow-hawks. Well, one day this bold robber +brought home to his little ones a Shrew." + +"What's that?" + +"Oh, a little thing like a Mouse, only it isn't a Mouse at all; it is +second cousin to a Mole." + +"I allus thought a Mole _was_ a Mouse specie," remarked Hawkeye, +not satisfied with Yan's distinction. + +"Oh, you!" interrupted Sam. "You'll try to make out the Burnses is +some kin to the Raftens next." + +"I bet I won't!" and for once Guy got even. + +"Well," Yan continued, "it so happened--about the first time in about +a million years--the little Hawks were not hungry just then. The Shrew +wasn't gobbled up at once, and though wounded, it set to work to +escape as soon as it was free of the old one's claws. First it hid +under the little ones, then it began to burrow down through the +feather-bed of the Sparrow-hawk's nest, then through the Blue Jay's +nest, then through the soft stuff of the Blackbird's nest and among +the old truck left by the Chickadees till it struck the hard mud +floor of the Blackbird's nest, and through that it could not dig. Its +strength gave out now, and it died there and lay hidden in the lowest +nest of the house, till years after I came by and broke open the old +stub and made it tell me a sad and mournful story--that--maybe--never +happened at all. But there's the drawing I made of it at the place, +showing all the nests just as I found them, and there's the dried up +body of the little Shrew." + +Sam listened with intense interest, but Guy was at no pains to conceal +his contempt. "Oh, pshaw! That's no adventure--just a whole lot of +'s'posens' without a blame thing doing. Now I'll tell you what I done. +I--" + +"Now, Hawkeye," Sam put in, "please don't be rough about it. Leave out +the awful things: I ain't well to-day. You keep back the scary parts +till to-morrow." + +"I tell you I left here and went straight as a die, an' I seen a +Woodchuck, but he wasn't in line, so I says: 'No, some other day. I +kin get you _easy_ any time.' Then I seen a Hawk going off with +a Chicken, but that was off my beat, an' I found lots o' old stumps +an' hundreds o' Chipmunks an' wouldn't be bothered with them. Then I +come to a farmhouse an'--an' I went around that so's not to scare the +Dog, an' I went pretty near as far as Downey's Dump--yes, a little +a-past it--only to one side--when up jumps a Partridge as big as a +Turkey, an' a hull gang of young ones--about thirty or forty. I bet I +seen them forty rod away, an' they all flew, but one that lighted on +a tree as far as--oh, 'cross that field, anyway. I bet you fellers +wouldn't 'a' seen it at all. Well, I jest hauled off as ca'm as ca'm +an' let him have it. I aimed straight for his eye--an' that's where I +hit him. _Now who gets a grand coup, for there he is_!" Hawkeye +unrolled his coat and turned out a bobtailed young Robin in the +speckled plumage, shot through the body. + +"So that's your Partridge. I call that a young Robin," said the First +Chief with slow emphasis. "Rules is broke. Killed a Song-bird. Little +Beaver, arrest the criminal." + +But Hawkeye struggled with all the ferocity born of his recent +exploit, and had to be bound hand and foot while a full Council was +called to try the case. The angry protests weakened when he found how +serious the Councillors were. Finally he pleaded "guilty" and was +condemned to wear a black feather of disgrace and a white feather for +cowardice for three days, as well as wash the dishes for a week. They +would also have made him cook for that term, but that they had had +some unhappy experiences with some dishes of Guy's make. + +"Well, I won't do it, that's all," was the prisoner's defiant retort. +"I'll go home first." + +"And hoe the garden? Oh, yes; I think I see you." + +"Well, I won't do it. You better let me 'lone." + +"Little Beaver, what do they do when an Injun won't obey the Council?" + +"Strip him of his honours. Do you remember that stick we burned with +'Sapwood' on it?" + +"Good idee. We'll burn Hawkeye for a name and dig up the old one" + +"No, you won't, you dirty mean Skunks! Ye promised me you'd never call +me that again. I _am_ Hawkeye. I kin see farder'n--n--" and he +began to weep. + +"Well, will you obey the Council?" + +"Yes; but I won't wear no white feather--I'm _brave_, boohoo!" + +"All right. We'll leave that off; but you must do the other +punishments. + +"Will I still be Hawkeye?" + +"Yes." + +"All right. I'll do it." + + + + +XXV + +The Three-Fingered Tramp. + + +Broad-shouldered, beetle-browed, brutal and lazy was Bill Hennard, son +of a prosperous settler. He had inherited a fine farm, but he was +as lazy as he was strong, and had soon run through his property and +followed the usual course from laziness to crime. Bill had seen the +inside of more than one jail. He was widely known in the adjoining +township of Emolan; many petty thefts were traced to him, and it was +openly stated that but for the help of a rich and clever confederate +he would certainly be in the penitentiary. It was darkly hinted, +further, that this confederate was a well-to-do Sangerite who had many +farms and a wife and son and a little daughter, and his first name was +William, and his second name Ra---- "But never mind; and don't for the +world say I told you." Oh, it's easy to get rich--if you know how. Of +course, these rumours never reached the parties chiefly concerned. + +Hennard had left Downey's Dump the evening before, and avoiding the +roads, had struck through the woods, to visit his partner, with +important matters to arrange--very important for Hennard. He was much +fuddled when he left Downey's, the night was cloudy, and consequently +he had wandered round and round till he was completely lost. He slept +under a tree (a cold, miserable sleep it was), and in the sunless +morning he set out with little certainty to find his "pal." After +some time he stumbled on the trail that led him to the boys' camp. He +was now savage with hunger and annoyance, and reckless with bottle +assistance, for he carried a flask. No longer avoiding being seen, he +walked up to the teepee just as Little Beaver was frying meat for the +noonday meal he expected to eat alone. At the sound of footsteps Yan +turned, supposing that one of his companions had come back, but there +instead was a big, rough-looking tramp. + +[Illustration: "Well, sonny, cookin' dinner?"] + +"Well, sonny, cookin' dinner? I'll be glad to j'ine ye," he said with +an unpleasant and fawning smile. + +His manner was as repulsive as it could be, though he kept the form of +politeness. + +"Where's your folks, sonny?" + +"Haven't any--here," replied Yan, in some fear, remembering now the +tramps of Glenyan. + +"H-m--all alone--camped all alone, are ye?" + +"The other fellers are away till the afternoon." + +"Wall, how nice. Glad to know it. I'll trouble you to hand me that +stick," and now the tramp's manner changed from fawning to command, as +he pointed to Yan's bow hanging unstrung. + +"That's my bow!" replied Yan, in fear and indignation. + +"I won't tell ye a second time--hand me that stick, or I'll +spifflicate ye." + +Yan stood still. The desperado strode forward, seized the bow, and +gave him two or three blows on the back and legs. + +"Now, you young Pup, get me my dinner, and be quick about it, or I'll +break yer useless neck." + +Yan now realized that he had fallen into the power of the worst enemy +of the harmless camper, and saw too late the folly of neglecting +Raften's advice to have a big Dog in camp. He glanced around and would +have run, but the tramp was too quick for him and grabbed him by the +collar. "Oh, no you don't; hold on, sonny. I'll fix you so you'll do +as you're told." He cut the bowstring from its place, and violently +throwing Yan down, he tied his feet so that they had about eighteen +inches' play. + +"Now rush around and get my dinner; I'm hungry. An' don't you spile it +in the cooking or I'll use the gad on you; an' if you holler or cut +that cord I'll kill ye. See that?" and he got out an ugly-looking +knife. + +Tears of fear and pain ran down Yan's face as he limped about to obey +the brute's orders. + +"Here, you move a little faster!" and the tramp turned from poking the +fire with the bow to give another sounding blow. If he had looked down +the trail he would have seen a small tow-topped figure that turned and +scurried away at the sound. + +Yan was trained to bear punishment, but the tyrant seemed careless of +even his life. + +"Are you going to kill me?" he burst out, after another attack for +stumbling in his shackles. + +"Don't know but I will when I've got through with ye," replied the +desperado with brutal coolness. "I'll take some more o' that meat--an' +don't you let it burn, neither. Where's the sugar for the coffee? I'll +get a bigger club if ye don't look spry," and so the tramp was served +with his meal. "Now bring me some tobaccer." + +Yan hobbled into the teepee and reached down Sam's tobacco bag. + +"Here, what's that box? Bring that out here," and the tramp pointed to +the box in which they kept some spare clothes. Yan obeyed in fear and +trembling. "Open it." + +"I can't. It's locked, and Sam has the key." + +"He has, has he? Well, I have a key that will open it," and so he +smashed the lid with the axe; then he went through the pockets, got +Yan's old silver watch and chain, and in Sam's trousers pocket he got +two dollars. + +"Ha! That's just what I want, sonny," and the tramp put them in his +own pockets. "'Pears to me the fire needs a little wood," he remarked, +as his eye fell on Yan's quiverful of arrows, and he gave that a kick +that sent many of them into the blaze. + +"Now, sonny, don't look at me quite so hard, like you was taking +notes, or I may have to cut your throat and put you in the swamp hole +to keep ye from telling tales." + +Yan was truly in terror of his life now. + +"Bring me the whetstone," the tyrant growled, "an' some more coffee." +Yan did so. The tramp began whetting his long knife, and Yan saw +two things that stuck in his memory: first, the knife, which was of +hunting pattern, had a brass Deer on the handle; second, the hand that +grasped it had only three fingers. + +"What's that other box in there?" + +"That's--that's--only our food box." + +"You lie to me, will ye?" and again the stick descended. "Haul it +out." + +"I can't." + +"Haul it out or I'll choke ye." + +Yan tried, but it was too heavy. + +"Get out, you useless Pup!" and the tramp walked into the teepee and +gave Yan a push that sent him headlong out on the ground. + +The boy was badly bruised, but saw his only chance. The big knife was +there. He seized it, cut the cord on his legs, flung the knife afar +in the swamp and ran like a Deer. The tramp rushed out of the teepee +yelling and cursing. Yan might have gotten away had he been in good +shape, but the tramp's cruelty really had crippled him, and the brute +was rapidly overtaking him. As he sped down the handiest, the south +trail, he sighted in the trees ahead a familiar figure, and yelling +with all his remaining strength, "Caleb! Caleb!! Caleb Clark!!!" he +fell swooning in the grass. + +There is no mistaking the voice of dire distress. Caleb hurried up, +and with one impulse he and the tramp grappled in deadly struggle. +Turk was not with his master, and the tramp had lost his knife, so it +was a hand-to-hand conflict. A few clinches, a few heavy blows, and +it was easy to see who must win. Caleb was old and slight. The tramp, +strong, heavy-built, and just drunk enough to be dangerous, was too +much for him, and after a couple of rounds the Trapper fell writhing +with a foul blow. The tramp felt again for his knife, swore savagely, +looked around for a club, found only a big stone, and would have done +no one knows what, when there was a yell from behind, another big man +crashed down the trail, and the tramp faced William Raften, puffing +and panting, with Guy close behind. The stone meant for Caleb he +hurled at William, who dodged it, and now there was an even fight. Had +the tramp had his knife it might have gone hard with Raften, but fist +to fist the farmer had the odds. His old-time science turned the +day, and the desperado went down with a crusher "straight from the +shoulder." + +It seemed a veritable battle-field--three on the ground and Raften, +red-faced and puffing, but sturdy and fearless, standing in utter +perplexity. + +"Phwhat the divil does it all mane?" + +"I'll tell you, Mr. Raften," chirped in Guy, as he stole from his safe +shelter. + +"Oh, ye're here, are ye, Guy? Go and git a rope at camp--quick now," +as the tramp began to move. + +As soon as the rope came Raften tied the fellow's arms safely. + +"'Pears to me Oi've sane that hand befoore," remarked Raften, as the +three fingers caught his eye. + +Yan was now sitting up, gazing about in a dazed way. Raften went over +to his old partner and said: "Caleb, air ye hurrt? It's me--it's Bill +Raften. Air ye hurrt?" + +Caleb rolled his eyes and looked around. + +Yan came over now and knelt down. "Are you hurt, Mr. Clark?" + +He shook his head and pointed to his chest. + +"He's got his wind knocked out," Raften explained; "he'll be all right +in a minute or two. Guy, bring some wather." + +Yan told his story and Guy supplied an important chapter. He had +returned earlier than expected, and was near to camp, when he heard +the tramp beating Yan. His first impulse to run home to his puny +father was replaced with the wiser one to go for brawny Mr. Raften. + +The tramp was now sitting up and grumbling savagely. + +"Now, me foine feller," said William. "We'll take ye back to camp for +a little visit before we take ye to the 'Pen.' A year in the cooler +will do ye moore good, Oi'm thinkin', than anny other tratement. Here, +Guy, you take the end av the rope and fetch the feller to camp, while +I help Caleb." + +Guy was in his glory. The tramp was forced to go ahead; Guy followed, +jerking the rope and playing Horse, shouting, "Ch'--ch'--ch'--get +up, Horsey," while William helped old Caleb with a gentleness that +recalled a time long ago when Caleb had so helped him after a falling +tree had nearly killed him in the woods. + +At camp they found Sam. He was greatly astonished at the procession, +for he knew nothing of the day's events, and fearfully disappointed he +was on learning what he had missed. + +Caleb still looked white and sick when they got him to the fire, and +Raften said, "Sam, go home and get your mother to give you a little +brandy." + +"You don't need to go so far," said Yan, "for that fellow has a bottle +in his pocket." + +"I wouldn't touch a dhrap of annything he has, let alone give it to a +_sick friend_," was William's reply. + +So Sam went for the brandy and was back with it in half an hour. + +"Here now, Caleb," said William, "drink that now an' ye'll feel +better," and as he offered the cup he felt a little reviving glow of +sympathy for his former comrade. + +When Sam went home that morning it was with a very clear purpose. +He had gone straight to his mother and told all he knew about the +revolver and the misunderstanding with Caleb, and they two had had a +long, unsatisfactory interview with the father. Raften was brutal and +outspoken as usual. Mrs. Raften was calm and clear-witted. Sam was +shrewd. The result was a complete defeat for William--a defeat that he +would not acknowledge; and Sam came back to camp disappointed for the +time being, but now to witness the very thing he had been striving +for--his father and the Trapper reconciled; deadly enemies two hours +ago, but now made friends through a fight. Though overpowered in +argument, Raften's rancour was not abated, but rather increased toward +the man he had evidently misused, until the balance was turned by the +chance of his helping that man in a time of direst straits. + + + + +XXVI + +WINNING BACK THE FARM + + +Oh, the magic of the campfire! No unkind feeling long withstands its +glow. For men to meet at the same campfire is to come closer, to have +better understanding of each other, and to lay the foundations of +lasting friendship. "He and I camped together once!" is enough to +explain all cordiality between the men most wide apart, and Woodcraft +days are days of memories happy, bright and lifelong. + +To sit at the same camp fireside has always been a sacred bond, and +the scene of twenty years before was now renewed in the Raften woods, +thanks to that campfire lit a month before--the sacred fire. How well +it had been named! William and Caleb were camped together in good +fellowship again, marred though it was with awkwardness as yet, but +still good fellowship. + +Raften was a magistrate. He sent Sam with an order to the constable +to come for the prisoner. Yan went to the house for provisions and to +bring Mrs. Raften, and Guy went home with an astonishing account of +his latest glorious doings. The tramp desperado was securely fastened +to a tree; Caleb was in the teepee lying down. Raften went in for a +few minutes, and when he came out the tramp was gone. His bonds were +cut, not slipped. How could he nave gotten away without help? + +"Never mind," said Raften. "That three-fingered hand is aisy to +follow. Caleb, ain't that Bill Hennard?" + +"I reckon." + +The men had a long talk. Caleb told of the loss of his revolver--he +was still living in the house with the Pogues then--and of its +recovery. They both remembered that Hennard was close by at the time +of the quarrel over the Horse-trade. There was much that explained +itself and much of mystery that remained. + +But one thing was clear. Caleb had been tricked out of everything he +had in the world, for it was just a question of days now before Pogue +would, in spite of Saryann, throw off all pretense and order Caleb +from the place to shift for himself. + +Raften sat a long time thinking, then said: + +"Caleb, you do exactly as Oi tell ye and ye'll get yer farrum back. +First, Oi'll lend ye wan thousand dollars for wan week." + +_A thousand dollars!!!_ Caleb's eyes opened, and what was next he +did not then learn, for the boys came back and interrupted, but later +the old Trapper was fully instructed. + +When Mrs. Raften heard of it she was thunderstruck. A thousand dollars +in Sanger was like one hundred thousand dollars in a big city. It was +untold wealth, and Mrs. Raften fairly gasped. + +"A thousand dollars, William! Why! isn't that a heavy strain to put on +the honesty of a man who thinks still that he has some claim on you? +Is it safe to risk it?" + +"Pooh!" said William. "Oi'm no money-lender, nor spring gosling +nayther. Thayer's the money Oi'll lend him," and Raften produced a +roll of counterfeit bills that he as magistrate had happened to have +in temporary custody. "Thayer's maybe five hundred or six hundred +dollars, but it's near enough." + +Caleb, however, was allowed to think it real money, and fully +prepared, he called at his own--the Pogue house--the next day, +knocked, and walked in. + +"Good morning, father," said Saryann, for she had some decency and +kindness. + +"What do you want here?" said Dick savagely; "bad enough to have you +on the place, without forcing yerself on us day and night." + +"Hush now, Dick; you forget--" + +"Forget--I don't forget nothin'," retorted Dick, interrupting his +wife. "He had to help with the chores an' work, an' he don't do a +thing and expects to live on me." + +"Oh, well, you won't have me long to bother you," said Caleb sadly, +as he tottered to a chair. His face was white and he looked sick and +shaky. + +"What's the matter, father?" + +"Oh, I'm pretty bad. I won't last much longer You'll be quit o' me +before many days." + +"Big loss!" grumbled Dick. + +"I--I give you my farm an' everything I had--" + +"Oh, shut up. I'm sick of hearing about it." + +"At least--'most--everything. I--I--I--didn't say nothing about a +little wad o'--o'--bills I had stored away. I--I--" and the old man +trembled violently--"I'm so cold." + +"Dick, do make a fire," said his wife. + +"I won't do no sich fool trick. It's roastin' hot now." + +"'Tain't much," went on the trembling old man, "only fif--fif--teen +hundred--dollars. I got it here now," and he drew out the roll of +greenbacks. + +_FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS!_ Twice as much as the whole farm and +stock were worth! Dick's eyes fairly popped out, and Caleb was careful +to show also the handle of the white revolver. + +"Why, father," exclaimed Saryann, "you are ill: Let me go get you some +brandy. Dick, make a fire. Father is cold as ice." + +"Yes--please--fire--I'm all of--a--tremble--with--cold." + +Dick rushed around now and soon the big fire place was filled with +blaze and the room unpleasantly warm. + +"Here, father, have some brandy and water," said Dick, in a very +different tone. "Would you like a little quinine?" + +"No, no--I'm better now; but I was saying--I only got a few days to +live, an' having no legal kin--this here wad'd go to the gover'ment, +but I spoke to the lawyer, an' all I need do--is--add--a word to the +deed o' gift--for the farm--to include this--an' it's very right you +should have it, too." Old Caleb shook from head to foot and coughed +terribly. + +"Oh, father, let me send for the doctor," pleaded Saryann, and Dick +added feebly, "Yes, father, let me go for the doctor." + +"No, no; never mind. It don't matter. I'll be better off soon. Have +you the deed o' gift here?" + +"Oh, yes, Dick has it in his chest." Dick ran to get the deed, for +these were the days before registration in Canada; possession of the +deed was possession of the farm, and to lose the deed was to lose the +land. + +The old man tremblingly fumbled over the money, seeming to count +it--"Yes--just--fif-teen hun'erd," as Dick came clumping down the +ladder with the deed. + +"Have you got a--pen--and ink--" + +Dick went for the dried-up ink bottle while Saryann hunted for +_the_ pen. Caleb's hand trembled violently as he took the +parchment, glanced carefully over it--yes, this was it--the thing that +had made him a despised pauper. He glanced around quickly. Dick and +Saryann were at the other end of the room. He rose, took one step +forward and stuffed the deed into the blazing fire. Holding his +revolver in his right hand and the poker in the left, he stood erect +and firm, all sign of weakness gone; his eyes were ablaze, and with +voice of stern command he hissed "_Stand back!_" And pointed the +pistol as he saw Dick rushing to rescue the deed. In a few seconds it +was wholly consumed, and with that, as all knew, the last claim of the +Pogues on the property, for Caleb's own possessory was safe in a vault +at Downey's. + +"Now," thundered Caleb, "you dirty paupers, get out of my house! Get +off my land, and don't you dare touch a thing belonging to me." + +He raised his voice in a long "halloo" and rapped three times on the +table. Steps were heard outside. Then in came Raften with two men. + +"Magistrate Raften, clear my house of them interlopers, if ye please." + +Caleb gave them a few minutes to gather up their own clothes, then +they set out on foot for Downey's, wild with helpless rage, penniless +wanderers in the world, as they had meant to leave old Caleb. + +Now he was in possession of his own again, once more comfortably +"fixed." After the men had had their rough congratulations and +uproarious laughter over the success of the trick, Raften led up to +the question of money, then left a blank, wondering what Caleb would +do. The good old soul pulled out the wad. + +"There it is, Bill. I hain't even counted it, and a thousand times +obliged. If ever you need a friend, call on me." + +Raften chuckled, counted the greenbacks and said "All right!" and to +this day Caleb doesn't know that the fortune he held in his hand that +day was nothing but a lot of worthless paper. + +A week later, as the old Trapper sat alone getting his evening meal, +there was a light rap at the door. + +"Come in." + +A woman entered. Turk had sprung up growling, but now wagged his tail, +and when she lifted a veil Caleb recognized Saryann. + +"What do you want?" he demanded savagely. + +"'Twasn't my doing, father; you know it wasn't; and now he's left me +for good." She told him her sorrowful story briefly. Dick had not +courted Saryann, but the farm, and now that that was gone he had no +further use for her. He had been leading a bad life, "far worse than +any one knew," and now he had plainly told her he was done with her. + +Caleb's hot anger never lasted more than five minutes. He must have +felt that her story was true, for the order of former days was +reestablished, and with Saryann for housekeeper the old man had a +comfortable home to the end of his days. + +Pogue disappeared; folks say he went to the States. The three-fingered +tramp never turned up again, and about this time the serious robberies +in the region ceased. Three years afterward they learned that two +burglars had been shot while escaping from an American penitentiary. +One of them was undoubtedly Dick Pogue, and the other was described as +a big dark man with three fingers on the right hand. + + + + +XXVII + +THE RIVAL TRIBE + + +The winning back of the farm, according to Sanger custom must be +celebrated in a "sociable" that took the particular form of a grand +house-warming, in which the Raftens, Burnses and Boyles were fully +represented, as Char-less was Caleb's fast friend. The Injun band +was very prominent, for Caleb saw that it was entirely owing to the +meetings at the camp that the glad event had come about. + +Caleb acted as go-between for Char-less Boyle and William Raften, +and their feud was forgotten--for the time at least--as they related +stories of their early hunting days, to the delight of Yan and the +Tribe. There were four other boys there whom Little Beaver met for the +first time. They were Wesley Boyle, a dark-skinned, low-browed, active +boy of Sam's age; his brother Peter, about twelve, fair, fat and +freckled, and with a marvellous squint; and their cousin Char-less +Boyle, Jr., good-natured, giggly, and of spongy character; also Cyrus +Digby, a smart city boy, who was visiting "the folks," and who usually +appeared in white cuffs and very high stand-up collar. These boys were +greatly interested in the Sanger Indian camp, and one outcome of the +meeting at Caleb's was the formation of another Tribe of Indians, +composed of the three Boyle boys and their town friend. + +Since most of these were Boyles and the hunting-ground was the Boyles +woods about that marshy pond, and especially because they had read of +a band of Indians named Boilers or Stoneboilers (Assineboines), they +called themselves the "Boilers." Wesley was the natural leader. He was +alert as well as strong, and eager to do things, so made a fine Chief. +His hooked nose and black hair and eyes won for him the appropriate +name of "Blackhawk." The city boy being a noisy "show-off," who did +little work, was called "Bluejay" Peter Boyle was "Peetweet," and +Char-less, from his peculiar snickering and showing two large front +teeth, was called "Red-squirrel." + +They made their camp as much as possible like that of the Sangers, and +adopted their customs; but a deadly rivalry sprang up between them +from the first. The Sangers felt that they were old and experienced +Woodcrafters. The Boilers thought they knew as much and more, and they +outnumbered the Sangers. Active rivalry led to open hostilities. There +was a general battle with fists and mud; that proved a draw. Then a +duel between leaders was arranged, and Blackhawk won the fight and +the Woodpecker's scalp. The Boilers were wild with enthusiasm. They +proposed to take the whole Sanger camp, but in a hand-to-hand fight +of both tribes it was another draw. Guy, however, scored a glorious +triumph over Char-less and secured his scalp at the moment of victory. + +Now Little Beaver sent a challenge to Blackhawk. It was scornfully +accepted. Again the Boiler Chief was victor and won another scalp, +while Little Beaver got a black eye and a bad licking, but the enemy +retired. + +Yan had always been considered a timid boy at Bonnerton, but that was +largely the result of his repressive home training. Sanger was working +great changes. To be treated with respect by the head of the house was +a new and delightful experience. It developed his self-respect. His +wood life was making him wonderfully self-reliant, and improved health +helped his courage, so next day, when the enemy appeared in full +force, every one was surprised when Yan again challenged Blackhawk. It +really cost him a desperate and mighty effort to do so, for it is one +thing to challenge a boy that you think you can "lick" and another to +challenge one the very day after he has licked you. Indeed, if the +truth were known, Yan did it in fear and trembling, and therein lay +the courage--in going ahead when fear said "Go back." + +It is quite certain that a year before he would not have ventured in +such a fight, and he only did it now because he had realized that +Blackhawk was left-handed, and a plan to turn this to account had +suggested itself. Every one was much surprised at the challenge, +but much more so when, to the joy of his tribe, Little Beaver won a +brilliant victory. + +Inspired by this, they drove the Boilers from the field, scored a +grand triumph, and Sam and Yan each captured a scalp. + +The Sangers held a Council and scalp-dance in celebration that night +around an outdoor fire. The Medicine Man was sent for to be in it. + +After the dance, Chief Beaver, his face painted to hide his black +eye, made a speech. He claimed that the Boilers would surely look for +reinforcements and attempt a new attack, and that, therefore, the +Sangers should try to add to their number, too. + +"I kin lick Char-less any time," piped in Guy proudly, and swung the +scalp he had won. + +But the Medicine Man said: "If I were you boys I'd fix up a peace. Now +you've won you ought to ask them to a big pow-wow." + +These were the events that led to the friendly meeting of the two +Tribes in full war-paint. + +Chief Woodpecker first addressed them: "Say, fellers--Brother Chiefs, +I mean--this yere quar'lin' don't pay. We kin have more fun working +together. Let's be friends an' join in one Tribe. There's more fun +when there's a crowd." + +"All right," said Blackhawk; "but we'll call the tribe the 'Boilers,' +coz we have the majority, and leave me Head Chief." + +"You are wrong about that. Our Medicine Men makes us even number +and more than even weight. We've got the best camp--have the +swimming-pond, and we are the oldest Tribe, not to speak of the +success we had in a certain leetle business not long ago which the +youngest of us kin remember," and Guy grinned in appreciation of this +evident reference to his exploit. + +As a matter of fact, it was the swimming-pond that turned the day. The +Boilers voted to join the Sangers. Their holiday was only ten days, +the Sangers had got a week's extension, and all knew that they could +get most out of their time by going to the pond camp. The question of +a name was decided by Little Beaver. + +"Boiler Warriors," said he, "it is the custom of the Indians to have +the Tribes divided in clans. We are the Sanger clan. You are the +Boiler clan. But as we all live in Sanger we are all Sanger Indians." + +"Who's to be Head Chief?" + +Blackhawk had no notion of submitting to Woodpecker, whom he had +licked, nor would Woodpecker accept a Chief of the inferior tribe. +One suggested that Little Beaver be Chief, but out of loyalty to his +friend, the Woodpecker, Yan declined. + +"Better leave that for a few days till you get acquainted," was the +Medicine Man's wise suggestion. + +That day and the next were spent in camp. The Boilers had their teepee +to make and beds to prepare. The Sangers merrily helped, making a +"bee" of it. + +Bow and arrow making were next to do. Little Beaver had not fully +replaced his own destroyed by the robber. A hunt of the Burlap Deer +was a pleasant variation of the second day, though there were but two +bows for all, and the Boilers began to realize that they were really +far behind the Sangers in knowledge of Woodcraft. + +At swimming Blackhawk was easily first. Of course, this greatly +increased his general interest in the swimming-pond, and he chiefly +was responsible for the making of a canoe later on. + +The days went on right merrily--oh, so fast! Little Beaver showed all +the things of interest in his kingdom. How happy he was in showing +them--playing experienced guide as he used to dream it! Peetweet took +a keen interest; so did the city boy. Char-less took a little interest +in it all, helped a little, was generally a little in everything, and +giggled a good deal. Hawkeye was disposed to bully Char-less, since he +found him quite lickable. His tone was high and haughty when he spoke +to him--not at all like his whining when addressing the others. He +volunteered to discipline Char-less if he should ill-treat any of the +others, and was about to administer grievous personal punishment for +some trifling offense, when Blackhawk gave him a warning that had good +effect. + +Yan's note-book was fully discussed and his drawings greatly admired. +He set to work at once with friendly enthusiasm to paint the Boilers' +teepee. Not having any adventures that seemed important, except, +perhaps, Blackhawk's defeat of Woodpecker and Little Beaver, subjects +that did not interest the artist, the outside decorations were the +totem of the clan and its members. + + + + +XXVIII + +White-Man's Woodcraft + + +Blackhawk was the introducer of a new game which he called "judging." + +"How far is it from here to that tree?" he would ask, and when each +had written down his guess they would measure, and usually it was +Woodpecker or Blackhawk that came nearest to the truth. Guy still held +the leadership "for far sight," for which reason he suggested that +game whenever a change of amusement was wanted. + +Yan, following up Blackhawk's suggestion, brought in the new game of +"White-man's Woodcraft." + +"Can you," asked he, "tell a Dog's height by its track?" + +"No; nor you nor any one else," was the somewhat scornful reply. + +"Oh, yes, I can. Take the length in inches of his forefoot track, +multiply it by 8, and that gives his height at the shoulder. You try +it and you'll see. A little Dog has a 2-1/4-inch foot and stands about +18 inches, a Sheep Dog with a 3-inch track stands 24 inches, and a +Mastiff or any big Dog with a 4-inch track gives 30 to 32 inches." + +"You mean every Dog is 8 feet high?" drawled Sam, doubtfully, but Yan +went on. "And you can tell his weight, too, by the track. You multiply +the width of his forefoot in inches by the length, and multiply that +by 5, and that gives pretty near his weight in pounds. I tried old +Cap. His foot is 3-1/2 by 3; that equals 10-1/2, multiplied by 5 +equals 52-1/2 pounds: just about right." + +"I'll bet I seen a Dog at the show that that wouldn't work on," +drawled Sam. "He was as long as my two arms, he had feet as big as a +young Bear, an' he wasn't any higher than a brick. He was jest about +the build of a Caterpiller, only he didn't have but four legs at the +far ends. They was so far apart he couldn't keep step. He looked like +he was raised under a bureau. I think when they was cutting down so on +his legs they might have give him more of them; a row in the middle +would 'a' been 'bout right." + +"Yes, I know him. That's a Dachshund. But you can't reckon on freaks; +nothing but straight Dog. It works on wild animals, too--that is, on +Wolves and Foxes and maybe other things," then changing the subject +Beaver continued: + +"Can you tell the height of a tree by its shadow?" + +"Never thought of that. How do you do it?" + +"Wait till your own shadow is the same length as yourself--that is, +about eight in the morning or four in the afternoon--then measure the +tree's shadow. That gives its length." + +"You'd have to wait all day to work that, and you can't do it at all +in the woods or on a dull day," objected Blackhawk. "I'd rather do it +by guess." + +"I'll bet my scalp against yours I can tell the height of that +tree right now without climbing it, and get closer than you can by +guessing," said Little Beaver. + +"No, I won't bet scalps on that--but I'll bet who's to wash the +dishes." + +"All right. To the top of that tree, how much is it?" + +"Better not take the top, 'cause we can't get there to measure it, but +say that knot," was the rejoinder. "Here, Woodpecker, you be judge." + +"No, I want to be in this guessing. The loser takes the next turn of +dishwashing for each of the others." + +So Blackhawk studied the knot carefully and wrote down his +guess--Thirty-eight feet. + +Sam said, "Blackhawk! Ground's kind of uneven. I'd like to know the +exact spot under the tree that you'd measure to. Will you mark it with +a peg?" + +So Blackhawk went over and put in a white peg, at the same time +unwittingly giving Woodpecker what he wanted--a gauge, for he knew +Blackhawk was something more than five feet high; judging then as he +stood there Sam wrote down Thirty-five feet. + +Now it was Yan's turn to do it by "White-man's Woodcraft," as he +called it. He cut a pole exactly ten feet long, and choosing the +smoothest ground, he walked about twenty yards from the tree, propped +the pole upright, then lay down so that his eye was level with the +tree base and in line with the top of the pole and the knot on the +tree. A peg marked the spot. + +Now he measured from this "eye peg" to the foot of the pole; it was 31 +feet. Then from the eye peg to the peg under the tree; it was 87 feet. +Since the 10-foot pole met the line at 31 feet, then 31 is to 10 as 87 +is to the tree--or 28 feet. Now one of the boys climbed and measured +the height of the knot. It was 29 feet, and Yan had an easy victory. + +"Here, you close guessers, do you want another try, and I'll give you +odds this time, if you come within ten feet you'll win. I want only +two feet to come and go on." + +"All right. Pick your trees." + +"'Tisn't a tree this time, but the distance across that pond, from +this peg (H, in diagram) to that little Hemlock (D). You put down your +guesses and I'll show you another trick." + +Sam studied it carefully and wrote Forty feet. Wes put down +Forty-five. + +"Here, I want to be in this. I'll show you fellers how," exclaimed Guy +in his usual scornful manner, and wrote down Fifty feet. + +"Let's all try it for scalps," said Char-less, but this was ruled +too unimportant for scalps, and again the penalty of failure was +dishwashing, so the other boys came and put down their guesses close +to that of their Chief--Forty-four, Forty-six and Forty-nine feet. + +"Now we'll find out exactly," and Little Beaver, with an air of calm +superiority, took three straight poles of exactly the same length and +pegged them together in a triangle, leaving the pegs sticking up. He +placed this triangle on the bank at _A B C_, sighting the line +_A B_ for the little Hemlock _D_, and put three pegs in the +ground exactly under the three pegs where the triangle was; moved the +triangle to _E F G_ and placed it so that _F G_ should line +with _A C_ and _E G_ with _D_. Now _A G D_ also must be an equilateral +triangle; therefore, according to arithmetic, the line _D H_ must be +seven-eighths of _A G. A G_ was easily measured--70 feet. Seven-eighths +of 70 equals 61-1/4 feet. The width of the pond--they measured it with +tape line--was found to be 60 feet, so Yan was nearest, but Guy claimed +that 50 feet was within 10 feet of it, which was allowed. Thus there +were two winners--two who escaped dishwashing; and Hawkeye's bragging +became insufferable. He never again got so close in a guess, but no +number of failures could daunt him after such a success. + +Sam was interested in the White-man's Woodcraft chiefly on Yan's +account, but Blackhawk was evidently impressed with the study itself, +and said: + +"Little Beaver, I'll give you one more to do. Can you measure how far +apart those two trees are on that bank, without crossing?" + +"Yes," said Yan; "easily." So he cut three poles 6, 8 and 10 feet long +and pegged them together in a triangle (in diagram). "Now," said he, +"_A B C_ is a right angle; it must be, when the legs of the +triangle are 6, 8 and 10; that's a law." + +He placed this on the shore, the side _A B_ pointing to the inner +side of the first tree, and the side _B C_ as nearly as possible +parallel with the line between the two trees. Then he put in a stake +at _B_, another at _C_, and continued this line toward _K_. Now he +slid his triangle along this till the side _G F_ pointed to _E_, and +the side _H G_ in line with _C B_. The distance from _D_ to _E_, of +course, is equal to _B G_, which can be measured, and again the tape +line showed Yan to be nearly right. + +This White-man's Woodcraft was easy for him, and he volunteered to +teach the other Indians, but they thought it looked "too much like +school." They voted him a _coup_ on finding how well he could do +it. But when Raften heard of it he exclaimed in wonder and admiration, +"My, but that's mightiful!" and would not be satisfied till the +_coup_ was made a _grand coup_. + +"Say, Beaver," said Woodpecker sadly, harking back, "if a Dog's front +foot is 3-1/2 inches long and 3 inches wide, what colour is the end of +his tail?" + +"White," was the prompt reply; "'cause a Dog with feet that size and +shape is most likely to be a yaller Dog, and a yaller Dog always has +some white hairs in the end of his tail." + +"Well, this 'un hadn't, 'cause his tail was cut off in the days of his +youth!" + + + + +XXIX + +The Long Swamp + + +The union of the tribes, however, was far from complete. Blackhawk was +inclined to be turbulent. He was heavier than Beaver. He could not +understand how that slighter, younger boy could throw him, and he +wished to try again. Now Yan was growing stronger every day. He was +quick and of very wiry build. In the first battle, which was entirely +fisty, he was worsted; on the try-over, which cost him such an effort, +he had arranged "a rough-and-tumble," as they called it, and had +won chiefly by working his only trick. But now Blackhawk was not +satisfied, and while he did not care to offer another deadly +challenge, by way of a feeler he offered, some days after the peace, +to try a friendly throw for scalps. + +"Fists left out!" Just what Beaver wanted, and the biggest boy was +sent flying. "If any other Boiler would like to try I'd be pleased +to oblige him," said Yan, just a little puffed up, as he held up the +second scalp he had won from Blackhawk. + +Much to his surprise, Bluejay, the city boy, accepted, and he was +still more surprised when the city boy sent _him_ down in the +dust. + +"Best out of three!" shouted Woodpecker quickly, in the interest of +his friend, taking advantage of an unwritten law that when it is not +stated to be in one try, usually called "sudden death," it is "best +two out of three" that counts. + +Yan knew now that he had found a worthy foe. He dodged, waiting for an +opening--gripped--locked--and had him on the hip, he thought, but the +city boy squirmed in time, yielding instead of resisting, and both +went down tight-gripped. For a minute it was doubtful. + +"Go it, Yan." + +"Give it to him, Bluejay." + +But Yan quickly threw out one leg, got a little purchase, and turned +the city boy on his back. + +"Hooray for Little Beaver!" + +"One try more! So far even!" cried Blackhawk. + +They closed again, but Yan was more than ever careful. The city boy +was puffing hard. The real trial was over and Cy went down quite +easily. + +"Three cheers for Little Beaver!" A fourth scalp was added to his +collection, and Sam patted him on the back, while Bluejay got out a +pocket mirror and comb and put his hair straight. + +But this did not help out in the matter of leadership, and when the +Medicine Man heard of the continued deadlock he said: + +"Boys, you know when there is a doubt about who is to lead the only +way is for all Chiefs to resign and have a new election." The boys +acted on this suggestion but found another deadlock. Little Beaver +refused to be put up. Woodpecker got three votes, Blackhawk four, and +Guy one (his own), and the Sangers refused to stand by the decision. + +"Let's wait till after the 'hard trip'--that will show who is the real +Chief--then have a new election," suggested Little Beaver, with an eye +to Woodpecker's interest, for this hard trip was one that had been +promised them by Caleb--a three-days' expedition in the Long Swamp. + +This swamp was a wild tract, ten miles by thirty, that lay a dozen +miles north of Sanger. It was swampy only in parts, but the dry places +were mere rocky ridges, like islands in the bogs. The land on these +was worthless and the timber had been ruined by fire, so Long Swamp +continued an uninhabited wilderness. + +There was said to be a few Deer on the hardwood ridges. Bears and Lynx +were occasionally seen, and Wolves had been heard in recent winters. +Of course there were Foxes, Grouse and Northern Hare. The streams were +more or less choked with logs, but were known to harbour a few Beavers +and an occasional Otter. There were no roads for summer use, only +long, dim openings across the bogs, known as winter trails and timber +roads. This was the region that the boys proposed to visit under +Caleb's guidance. + +Thus at last they were really going on an "Indian trip"--to explore +the great unknown, with every probability of adventure. + +At dawn Yan tapped the tom-tom. It sang a high and vibrant note, in +guarantee of a sunny day. + +They left camp at seven in the morning, and after three hours' tramp +they got to the first part of the wilderness, a great tract of rocky +land, disfigured with blackened trees and stumps, but green in places +with groves of young Poplars or quaking Aspen. + +The Indians were very ready to camp now, but the Medicine Man said, +"No; better keep on till we find water." In another mile they reached +the first stretch of level Tamarack bog and a welcome halt for lunch +was called. "Camp!" shouted the leader, and the Indians ran each to do +his part. Sam got wood for the fire and Blackhawk went to seek water, +and with him was Blue jay, conspicuous in a high linen collar and +broad cuffs, for Caleb unfortunately had admitted that he once saw an +Indian Chief in high hat and stand-up collar. + +Beaver was just a little disappointed to see the Medicine Man light +the fire with a match. He wanted it all in truly Indian style, but the +Trapper remarked, "Jest as well to have some tinder and a thong along +when you're in the woods, but matches is handier than rubbing-sticks." + +Blackhawk and Bluejay returned with two pails of dirty, tepid, swampy +water. + +"Why, that's all there is!" was their defense. + +"Yan, you go and show them how to get good water," said Caleb, so +the Second Sanger Chief, remembering his training, took the axe and +quickly made a wooden digger, then went to the edge of the swamp, and +on the land twenty feet from the bog he began to dig a hole in the +sandy loam. He made it two feet across and sunk it down three feet. +The roily water kept oozing in all around, and Bluejay was scornful. +"Well, I'd rather have what we got." Beaver dug on till there was a +foot of dirty water in the hole. Then he took a pail and bailed it all +out as fast as possible, left it to fill, bailed it out a second time, +and ten minutes later cautiously dipped out with a cup a full pail of +crystal-clear cold water, and thus the Boilers learned how to make an +Indian well and get clear water out of a dirty puddle. + +After their simple meal of tea, bread and meat Caleb told his plan. +"You never get the same good of a trip if you jest wander off; better +have a plan--something to do; and do it without a guide if ye want +adventures. Now eight is too many to travel together; you'd scare +everything with racket and never see a livin' thing. Better divide in +parties. I'll stay in camp and get things ready for the night." + +Thus the leaders, Sam and Yan, soon found themselves paired with +Guy and Peetweet. Wes felt bound to take care of his little cousin +Char-less. + +Bluejay, finding himself the odd man, decided to stay with Caleb, +especially as the swamp evidently was without proper footpaths. + +"Now," said Caleb, "northwest of here there is a river called the +Beaver, that runs into Black River. I want one of you to locate that. +It's thirty or forty feet wide and easy to know, for it's the only big +stream in the swamp. Right north there is an open stretch of plain, +with a little spring creek, where there's a band of Injuns camped. +Somewhere northeast they say there's a tract of Pine bush not burned +off, and there is some Deer there. None of the places is ten miles +away except, maybe, the Injuns' camp. I want ye to go scoutin' and +report. You kin draw straws to say who goes where." + +So the straws were marked and drawn. Yan drew the timber hunt. He +would rather have had the one after the Indians. Sam had to seek the +river, and Wesley the Indian camp. Caleb gave each of them a few +matches and this parting word: + +"I'll stay here till you come back. I'll keep up a fire, and toward +sundown I'll make a smoke with rotten wood and grass so you kin find +your way back. Remember, steer by the sun; keep your main lines of +travel; don't try to remember trees and mudholes; and if you get lost, +you make _two smokes_ well apart and stay right there and holler +every once in awhile; some one will be sure to come." + +So about eleven o'clock the boys set out eagerly. As they were going +Blackhawk called to the others, "First to carry out his job wins a +_grand coup_!" + +"Let the three leaders stake their scalps," said the Woodpecker. + +"All right. First winner home gets a scalp from each of the others and +saves his own." + +"Say, boys, you better take along; your hull outfit, some grub an' +your blankets," was the Medicine Man's last suggestion. "You may have +to stay out all night." + +Yan would rather have had Sam along, but that couldn't be, and +Peetweet proved a good fellow, though rather slow. They soon left the +high ground and came to the bog--flat and seemingly endless and with a +few tall Tamaracks. There were some Cedar-birds catching Flies on +the tall tree-tops, and a single Flycatcher was calling out: +"_Whoit--whoit--whoit!_" Yan did not know until long after that +it was the Olive-side. A Sparrow-hawk sailed over, and later a Bald +Eagle with a Sparrow-hawk in hot and noisy pursuit. But the most +curious thing was the surface of the bog. The spongy stretch of moss +among the scattering Tamaracks was dotted with great masses of Pitcher +Plant, and half concealed by the curious leaves were thousands of +Droseræ, or fly-eating plants, with their traps set to secure their +prey. + +The bog was wonderful, but very bad walking. The boys sank knee-deep +in the soft moss, and as they went farther, steering only by the sun, +they found the moss sank till their feet reached the water below and +they were speedily wet to the knees. Yan cut for each a long pole to +carry in the hand; in case the bog gave way this would save them from +sinking. After two miles of this Peetweet wanted to go back, but was +scornfully suppressed by Little Beaver. + +Shortly afterward they came to a sluggish little stream in the bog +with a peculiar red-and-yellow scum along its banks. It was deep and +soft-bottomed. Yan tried it with the pole--did not dare to wade, so +they walked along its course till they found a small tree lying from +bank to bank, then crossed on this. Half a mile farther on the bog got +dryer, and a mass of green ahead marked one of the islands of high +land. Over this they passed quickly, keeping the northwest course. +They now had a succession of small bogs and large islands. The sun was +hot here and Peetweet was getting tired. He was thirsty, too, and +persisted in drinking the swamp water whenever he found a hole. + +"Say, Peetweet, you'll suffer for that if you don't quit; that water +isn't fit to drink unless you boil it." + +But Peetweet complained of burning thirst and drank recklessly. After +two hours' tramp he was very tired and wanted to turn back. Yan sought +a dry island and then gathered sticks for a fire, but found all +the matches they had were soaking wet with wading through the bog. +Peetweet was much upset by this, not on account of fire now, but in +case they should be out all night. + +"You wait and see what an Indian does," said Little Beaver. He sought +for a dried Balsam Fir, cut the rubbing-sticks, made a bow of a +slightly bent branch, and soon had a blazing fire, to Peter's utter +amazement, for he had never seen the trick of making a fire by +rubbing-sticks. + +After drinking some tea and eating a little, Pete felt more +encouraged. + +"We have travelled more than six miles now, I reckon," said the Chief; +"an hour longer and we shall be in sight of the forest if there is +one," and Yan led off across swamps more or less open and islands of +burned timber. + +Pete began to be appalled by the distance they were putting between +them and their friends. "What if we should get lost? They never could +find us." + +"We won't get lost," said Yan in some impatience; "and if we did, what +of it? We have only to keep on straight north or south for four or +five hours and we reach some kind of a settlement." + +After an hour's tramp northeast they came to an island with a tall +tree that had branches right to the ground. Yan climbed up. A vast +extent of country lay all about him--open flat bogs and timber +islands, and on far ahead was a long, dark mass of solid +ever-green--surely the forest he sought. Between him and it he saw +water sparkling. + +"Oh, Pete, you ought to be up here," he shouted joyfully; "it's worth +the climb to see this view." + +"I'd rather see our own back-yard," grumbled Pete. + +Yan came down, his face aglow with pleasure, and exclaimed: "It's +close to, now! I saw the Pine woods. Just off there." + +"How far?" + +"Oh, a couple of miles, at most." + +"That's what you have been saying all along." + +"Well, I saw it this time; and there is water out there. I saw that, +too." + +He tramped on, and in half an hour they came to the water, a deep, +clear, slow stream, fringed with scrub willows, covered with +lily-pads, and following the middle of a broad, boggy flat. Yan had +looked for a pond, and was puzzled by the stream. Then it struck him. +"Caleb said there was only one big stream through this swamp. This +must be it. This is Beaver River." + +The stream was barely forty feet across, but it was clearly out of the +question to find a pole for a bridge, so Yan stripped off, put all his +things in a bundle, and throwing them over, swam after them. Pete had +to come now or be left. + +As they were dressing on the northern side there was a sudden loud +"_Bang--swish_!" A torrent of water was thrown in the air, with +lily-pads broken from their mooring, the water pattered down, the +wavelets settled, and the boys stood in astonishment to see what +strange animal had made this disturbance; but nothing more of it was +seen, and the mystery remained unsolved. + +Then Yan heard a familiar "_Quack!_" down the stream. He took his +bow and arrow, while Pete sat gloomily on a hummock. As soon as he +peered through the rushes in a little bay he saw three Mallard close +at hand. He waited till two were in line, then fired, killing one +instantly, and the others flew away. The breeze wafted it within reach +of a stick, and he seized it and returned in triumph to Pete, but +found him ready to cry. "I want to go home!" he said miserably. The +sight of the Mallard cheered him a little, and Yan said: "Come now, +Pete, don't spoil everything, there's a good fellow. Brace up, and if +I don't show you the Pine woods in twenty minutes I'll turn and take +you home." + +As soon as they got to the next island they saw the Pine wood--a solid +green bank not half a mile away, and the boys gave a little cheer, and +felt, no doubt, as Mungo Park did when first he sighted the Niger. In +fifteen minutes they were walking in its dry and delightful aisles. + +"Now we've won," said Yan, "whatever the others do, and all that +remains is to get back." + +"I'm awfully tired," said Pete; "let's rest awhile." + +Yan looked at his watch. "It's four o'clock. I think we'd better camp +for the night." + +"Oh, no; I want to go home. It looks like rain." + +It certainly did, but Yan replied, "Well, let's eat first." He delayed +as much as possible so as to compel the making of a camp, and the rain +came unexpectedly, before he even had a fire. Yet to his own delight +and Peter's astonishment he quickly made a rubbing-stick fire, and +they hung up their wet clothes about it. Then he dug an Indian well +and took lots of time in the preparation, so it was six o'clock before +they began to eat, and seven when finished--evidently too late to move +out even though the rain seemed to be over. So Yan collected firewood, +made a bed of Fir boughs and a windbreak of bushes and bark. The +weather was warm, and with the fire and two blankets they passed a +comfortable night. They heard their old friend the Horned Owl, a Fox +barked his querulous "_Yap-yurr!_" close at hand, and once or +twice they were awakened by rustling footsteps in the leaves, but +slept fairly well. + +At dawn Yan was up. He made a fire and heated some water for tea. They +had very little bread left, but the Mallard was untouched. + +Yan cleaned it, rolled it in wet clay, hid it in the ashes and covered +it with glowing coals. This is an Indian method of cooking, but Yan +had not fully mastered it. In half an hour he opened his clay pie and +found the Duck burned on one side and very raw on the other. Part of +it was good, however, so he called his companion to breakfast. Pete +sat up white-faced and miserable, evidently a sick boy. Not only had +he caught cold, but he was upset by the swamp water he had taken. He +was paying the penalty of his indiscretion. He ate a little and drank +some tea, then felt better, but clearly was unable to travel that day. +Now for the first time Yan felt a qualm of fear. Separated by a dozen +miles of swamp from all help, what could he do with a sick boy? He +barked a small dead tree with a knife, then on the smooth surface +wrote with a pencil, "Yan Yeoman and Pete Boyle camped here August 10, +18--" + +He made Pete comfortable by the fire, and, looking for tracks, he +found that during the night two Deer had come nearly into the camp; +then he climbed a high tree and scanned the southern horizon for a +smoke sign. He saw none there, but to the northwest, beyond some +shining yellow hills, he discovered a level plain dotted over with +black Fir clumps; from one of these smoke went up, and near it were +two or three white things like teepees. + +Yan hurried down to tell Pete the good news, but when he confessed +that it was two miles farther from home Pete had no notion of going +to the Indian camp; so Yan made a smoke fire, and knife-blazing the +saplings on two sides as he went, he set out alone for the Indian +camp. Getting there in half an hour, he found two log shanties and +three teepees. As he came near he had to use a stick to keep off the +numerous Dogs. The Indians proved shy, as usual, to White visitors. +Yan made some signs that he had learned from Caleb. Pointing to +himself, he held up two fingers--meaning that he was two. Then he +pointed to the Pine woods and made sign of the other lying down, and +added the hungry sign by pressing in his stomach with the edges of the +hands, meaning "I am cut in two here." The Chief Indian offered him +a Deer-tongue, but did not take further interest. Yan received it +thankfully, made a hasty sketch of the camp, and returned to find Pete +much better, but thoroughly alarmed at being so long alone. He was +able and anxious now to go back. Yan led off, carrying all the things +of the outfit, and his comrade followed slowly and peevishly. When +they came to the river, Pete held back in fear, believing that the +loud noise they had heard was made by some monster of the deep, who +would seize them. + +Yan was certain it could be only an explosion of swamp gas, and forced +Pete to swim across by setting the example. What the cause really was +they never learned. + +They travelled very fast now for a time. Pete was helped by the +knowledge that he was really going home. A hasty lunch of Deer-tongue +delayed them but little. At three they sighted Caleb's smoke signal, +and at four they burst into camp with yells of triumph. + +Caleb fired off his revolver, and Turk bayed his basso profundo +full-cry Fox salute. All the others had come back the night before. + +Sam said he had "gone ten mile and never got a sight of that blamed +river." Guy swore they had gone forty miles, and didn't believe there +was any such river. + +"What kind o' country did you see?" + +"Nothin' but burned land and rocks." + +"H-m, you went too far west--was runnin' parallel with Beaver River." + +"Now, Blackhawk, give an account of yourself to Little Beaver," said +Woodpecker. "Did you two win out?" + +"Well," replied the Boiler Chief, "if Hawkeye travelled forty miles, +we must have gone sixty. We pointed straight north for three hours and +never saw a thing but bogs and islands of burned timber--never a sign +of a plain or of Indians. I don't believe there are any." + +"Did you see any sandhills?" asked Little Beaver. + +"No." + +"Then you didn't get within miles of it." + +Now he told his own story, backed by Pete, and he was kind enough to +leave out all about Peetweet's whimpering. His comrade responded +to this by giving a glowing account of Yan's Woodcraft, especially +dwelling on the feat of the rubbing-stick fire in the rain, and when +they finished Caleb said: + +"Yan, you won, and you more than won, for you found the green timber +you went after, you found the river Sam went after, an' the Injuns +Wesley went after. Sam and Wesley, hand over your scalps." + + + + +XXX + +A New Kind of Coon + + +A merry meal now followed, chaffing and jokes passed several hours +away, but the boys were rested and restless by nine o'clock and eager +for more adventures. + +"Aren't there any Coons 'round here, Mr. Clark?" + +"Oh, I reckon so. Y-e-s! Down a piece in the hardwood bush near Widdy +Biddy Baggs's place there's lots o' likely Cooning ground." + +That was enough to stir them all, for the place was near at hand. +Peetweet alone was for staying in camp, but when told that he might +stay and keep house by himself he made up his mind to get all the fun +he could. The night was hot and moonless, Mosquitoes abundant, and +in trampling and scrambling through the gloomy woods the hunters had +plenty of small troubles, but they did not mind that so long as Turk +was willing to do his part. Once or twice he showed signs of interest +in the trail, but soon decided against it. + +Thus they worked toward the Widdy Baggs's till they came to a dry +brook bed. Turk began at once to travel up this, while Caleb tried +to make him go down. But the Dog recognized no superior officer when +hunting. After leading his impatient army a quarter of a mile away +from the really promising heavy timber, Turk discovered what _he_ +was after, and that was a little muddy puddle. In this he calmly lay +down, puffing, panting and lapping with energy, and his humble human +followers had nothing to do but sit on a log and impatiently await +his lordship's pleasure. Fifteen minutes went by, and Turk was still +enjoying himself, when Sam ventured at last: + +"'Pears to me if I owned a Dog I'd own him." + +"There's no use crowdin' him," was the answer. "He's runnin' this +hunt, an' he knows it. A Dog without a mind of his own is no 'count." + +So when Turk had puffed like a Porpoise, grunted and wallowed like +a Hog, to his heart's content and to the envy of the eight who sat +sweltering and impatient, he arose, all dribbling ooze, probably to +seek a new wallowing place, when his nose discovered something on the +bank that had far more effect than all the coaxings and threats of the +"waiting line," and he gave a short bark that was a note of joy for +the boys. They were all attention now, as the old Hound sniffed it +out, and in a few moments stirred the echoes with an opening blast of +his deepest strain. + +"Turk's struck it rich!" opined Caleb. + +The old Dog's bawling was strong now, but not very regular, showing +that the hunted animal's course was crooked. Then there was a long +break in it, showing possibly that the creature had run a fence or +swung from one tree to another. + +"That's a Coon," said Yan eagerly, for he had not forgotten any detail +of the other lesson. + +Caleb made no reply. + +The Hound tongued a long way off, but came back to the pond and had +one or two checks. + +"It's a great running for a Coon," Yan remarked, at length in doubt. +Then to Caleb, "What do you think?" + +Caleb answered slowly: "I dunno what to think. It runs too far for a +Coon, an' 'tain't treed yet; an' I kin tell by the Dog's voice he's +mad. If you was near him now you'd see all his back hair stannin' up." + +Another circle was announced by the Dog's baying, and then the long, +continuous, high-pitched yelping told that the game was treed at last. + +"Well, that puts Fox and Skunk out of it," said the Trapper, "but it +certainly don't act like a Coon on the ground." + +"First there gets the Coon!" shouted Blackhawk, and the boys skurried +through the dark woods, getting many a scratch and fall. As it was, +Yan and Wesley arrived together and touched the tree at the same +moment. The rest came straggling up, with Char-less last and Guy a +little ahead of him. Guy wanted to relate the full particulars of his +latest glorious victory over Char-less, but all attention was now on +old Turk, who was barking savagely up the tree. + +"Don't unnerstan' it at all, at all," said Caleb. "Coony kind o' tree, +but Dog don't act Coony." + +"Let's have a fire," said the Woodpecker, and the two crowds of boys +began each a fire and strove hard to get theirs first ablaze. + +The firelight reached far up into the night, and once or twice the +hunters thought they saw the shining eyes of the Coon. + +"Now who's to climb?" asked the Medicine Man. + +"I will, I will," etc., seven times repeated; even Guy and Char-less +chimed in. + +"You're mighty keen hunters, but I want you to know I can't tell what +it is that's up that tree. It may be a powerful big Coon, but seems to +me the Dog acts a little like it was a Cat, and 'tain't so long since +there was Painter in this county. The fact of him treeing for Turk +don't prove that he's afraid of a Dog; lots of animals does that +'cause they don't want to be bothered with his noise. If it's a Cat, +him as climbs is liable to get his face scratched. Judging by the +actions of the Dog, _I think it's something dangerous_. Now who +wants the job?" + +For awhile no one spoke. Then Yan, "I'll go if you'll lend me the +revolver." + +"So would I," said Wesley quickly. + +"Well, now, we'll draw straws"--and Yan won. Caleb felled a thin tree +against the big one and Yan climbed as he had done once before. + +There was an absence of the joking and chaffing that all had kept +up when on the other occasion Yan went after the Coon. There was a +tension that held them still and reached the climber to thrill him +with a weird sense of venturing into black darkness to face a fearful +and mysterious danger. The feeling increased as he climbed from the +leaning tree to the great trunk of the Basswood, to lose sight of his +comrades in the wilderness of broad leaves and twisted tree-arms. +The dancing firelight sent shadow-blots and light-spots in a dozen +directions with fantastic effect. Some of the feelings of the night at +Garney's grave came back to him, but this time with the knowledge of +real danger. A little higher and he was out of sight of his friends +below. The danger began to appal him; he wanted to go back, and to +justify the retreat he tried to call out, "No Coon here!" but his +voice failed him, and, as he clung to the branch, he remembered +Caleb's words, "There's nothing ahead of grit, an' grit ain't so much +not bein' scairt as it is goin' straight ahead when you _are_ +scairt." No; he would go on, come what would. + +"Find anything?" drawled a cheery voice below, just at the right time. + +Yan did not pause to answer, but continued to climb into the gloom. +Then he thought he heard a Coon snarl above him. He swung to a higher +branch and shouted, "Coon here, all right!" but the moment he did so +a rattling growl sounded close to him, and looking down he saw a huge +grey beast spring to a large branch between him and the ground, then +come climbing savagely toward him. As it leaped to a still nearer +place Yan got a dim view of a curious four-cornered face, shaggy +and striped, like the one he saw so long ago in Glenyan--it was an +enormous _Lynx_. + +Yan got such a shock that he nearly lost his hold, but quickly +recovering, he braced himself in a crotch, and got out the revolver +just as the Lynx with a fierce snarl leaped to a side branch that +brought it nearly on a level with him. He nervously cocked the pistol, +and scarcely attempting to sight in the darkness, he fired and missed. +The Lynx recoiled a little and crouched at the report. The boys below +raised a shout and Turk outdid them all in racket. + +"A Lynx!" shouted Yan, and his voice betrayed his struggle with fear. + +"Look out!" Caleb called. "You better not let him get too close." + +The Lynx was growling ferociously. Yan put forth all his will-power to +control his trembling hand, took more deliberate aim, and fired. The +fierce beast was struck, but leaped wildly at the boy. He threw up his +arm and it buried its teeth in his flesh, while Yan clung desperately +to the tree with the other arm. In a moment he knew he would be +dragged off and thrown to the ground, yet felt less fear now than he +had before. He clutched for the revolver with the left hand, but it +found only the fur of the Lynx, and the revolver dropped from his +grasp. Now he was indeed without hope, and dark fear fell on him. But +the beast was severely wounded. Its hind quarters were growing heavy. +It loosed its hold of Yan and struggled to get on the limb. A kick from +his right foot upset its balance; it slipped from the tree and flopped +to the ground below, wounded, but full of fight. Turk rushed at it, but +got a blow from its armed paw that sent him off howling. + +[Illustration: "He nervously fired and missed."] + +A surge of reaction came over Yan. He might have fainted, but again he +remembered the Trapper's words, "Bravery is keeping on even when you +_are_ skairt." He pulled himself together and very cautiously +worked his way back to the leaning tree. Hearing strange sounds, +yells, growls, sounds of conflict down below, expecting every moment +to hear the Lynx scramble up the trunk again, to finish him, dimly +hearing but not comprehending the shouts, he rested once at the +leaning tree and breathed freely. + +"Hurry up, Yan, with that revolver," shouted Blackhawk. + +"I dropped it long ago." + +"Where is it?" + +Yan slid down the sapling without making reply. The Lynx had gone, +but not far. It would have got away, but Turk kept running around and +bothering it so it could not even climb a tree, and the noise they +made in the thicket was easy to follow. + +"Where's the revolver?" shouted Caleb, with unusual excitement. + +"I dropped it in the fight." + +"I know. I heard it fall in the bushes," and Sam soon found it. + +Caleb seized it, but Yan said feebly, "Let me! Let me! It's my fight!" + +Caleb surrendered the pistol, said "Look out for the Dog!" and Yan +crawled through the bushes till that dark moving form was seen again. +Another shot and another. The sound of combat died away, and the +Indians raised a yell of triumph--all but Little Beaver. A giddiness +came over him; he trembled and reeled, and sank down on a root. Caleb +and Sam came up quickly. + +"What's the matter, Yan?" + +"I'm sick--I----" + +Caleb took his arm. It was wet. A match was struck. + +"Hallo, you're bleeding." + +"Yes, he had me--he caught me up the tree. I--I--thought I was a +goner." + +All interest was now turned from the dead Lynx to the wounded boy. + +"Let's get him to the water." + +"Guess the camp well is the nearest." + +Caleb and Sam took care of Yan, while the others brought the Lynx. +Yan grew better as they moved slowly homeward. He told all about the +attack of the Lynx. + +"Gosh! I'd 'a' been scared out o' my wits," said Sam. + +"Guess I would, too," added Caleb, to the surprise of the Tribe; "up +there, helpless, with a wounded Lynx--I tell you!" + +"Well, I _was_ scared--just as scared as I could be," admitted +Yan. + +At camp a blazing fire gave its lurid light. Cold water was handy and +Yan's bleeding arm was laid bare. He was shocked and yet secretly +delighted to see what a mauling he had got, for his shirt sleeve was +soaked with blood, and the wondering words of his friends was sweetest +music to his ears. + +Caleb and the city boy dressed his wounds, and when washed they did +not look so very dreadful. + +They were too much excited to sleep for an hour at least, and as they +sat about the fire--that they did not need but would not dream of +doing without--Yan found no lack of enthusiasm in the circle, and +blushed with pleasure to be the hero of the camp. Guy didn't see +anything to make so much fuss about, but Caleb said, "I knowed it; I +always knowed you was the stuff, after the night you went to Garney's +grave." + + + + +XXXI + +On the Old Camp Ground + + +It was threatening to rain again in the morning and the Indians +expected to tramp home heavy laden in the wet. But their Medicine Man +had a surprise in store. "I found an old friend not far from here and +fixed it up with him to take us all home in his wagon." They walked +out to the edge of the rough land and found a farm wagon with two +horses and a driver. They got in, and in little less than a hour were +safely back to the dear old camp by the pond. + +The rain was over now, and as Caleb left for his own home he said: + +"Say, boys, how about that election for Head Chief? I reckon it's due +now. Suppose you wait till to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock an' +I'll show you how to do it." + +That night Yan and his friend were alone in their teepee. His arm was +bound up, and proud he was of those bandages and delighted with the +trifling red spots that appeared yet on the last layer; but he was not +in pain, nor, indeed, the worse for the adventure, for, thanks to his +thick shirt, there was no poisoning. He slept as usual till long after +midnight, then awoke in bed with a peculiar feeling of well-being and +clearness of mind. He had no bodily sense; he seemed floating alone, +not in the teepee nor in the woods, but in the world--not dreaming, +but wide awake--more awake than ever in his life before, for all his +life came clearly into view as never before: his stern, religious +training; his father, refined and well-meaning, but blind, compelling +him to embark in a profession to which he was little inclined, and to +give up the one thing next his heart--his Woodcraft lore. + +Then Raften stepped into view, loud-voiced, externally coarse, but +blessed with a good heart and a sound head. The farmer suffered sadly +in contrast with the father, and yet Yan had to suppress the wish that +Raften were his father. What had they in common? Nothing; and yet +Raften had given him two of the dearest things in life. He, the +head of the house, a man of force and success, had treated Yan with +respect. Yan was enough like his own father to glory in the unwonted +taste; and like that other rugged stranger long ago in Glenyan, Raften +had also given him sympathy. Instead of considering his Woodcraft +pursuits mere trifling, the farmer had furthered them, and even joined +to follow for a time. The thought of Bonnerton came back. Yan knew he +must return in a year at most; he knew that his dearest ambition of a +college course in zoology was never to be realized, for his father +had told him he must go as errand boy at the first opening. Again his +rebellious spirit was stirred, to what purpose he did not know. He +would rather stay here on the farm with the Raftens. But his early +Scriptural training was not without effect. "Honour thy father and +thy mother" was of lasting force. He felt it to be a binding duty. He +could not rebel if he would. No, he would obey; and in that resolution +new light came. In taking him from college and sending him to the farm +his father had apparently cut off his hope of studies next his heart. +Instead of suffering loss by this obedience, he had come to the +largest opportunity of his life. + +Yes! He would go back--be errand boy or anything to make a living, but +in his hours of freedom he would keep a little kingdom of his own. The +road to it might lie through the cellar of a grocer's shop, but he +would not flinch. He would strive and struggle as a naturalist. When +he had won the insight he was seeking, the position he sought would +follow, for every event in the woodland life had shown him--had shown +them all, that his was the kingdom of the Birds and Beasts and the +power to comprehend them. + +And he seemed to float, happy in the fading of all doubt, glad in +the sense of victory. There was a noise outside. The teepee door was +forced gently; a large animal entered. At another time Yan might +have been alarmed, but the uplift of his vision was on him still. He +watched it with curious unalarm. It gently came to his bed, licked his +hand and laid down beside him. It was old Turk, and this was the first +time he had heeded any of them but Caleb. + +[Illustration: Old Turk] + + + + +XXXII + +The New War Chief + + +Caleb had been very busy all the day before doing no one knew what, +and Saryann was busy, too. She had been very busy for long, but now +she was bustling. Then, it seems, Caleb had gone to Mrs. Raften, and +she was very busy, and Guy made a flying visit to Mrs. Burns, and +she had become busy. Thus they turned the whole neighbourhood into a +"bee." + +For this was Sanger, where small gatherings held the same place as the +club, theatre and newspaper do in the lives of city folk. No matter +what the occasion, a christening, wedding or funeral, a logging, a +threshing, a home-coming or a parting, the finishing of a new house +or the buying of a new harness or fanning-mill, any one of these was +ample grounds for one of their "talking bees"; so it was easy to set +the wheels a-running. + +At three o'clock three processions might have been seen wending +through the woods. One was from Burns's, including the whole family; +one from Raften's, comprising the family and the hired men; one from +Caleb's, made up of Saryann and many of the Boyles. All brought +baskets. + +They were seated in a circle on the pleasant grassy bank of the +pond. Caleb and Sam took charge of the ceremonies. First, there were +foot-races, in which Yan won in spite of his wounded arm, the city boy +making a good second; then target-shooting and "Deer-hunting," that +Yan could not take part in. It was not in the programme, but Raften +insisted on seeing Yan measure the height of a knot in a tree without +going to it, and grinned with delight when he found it was accurate. + +"Luk at that for eddication, Sam!" he roared. "When will ye be able to +do the like? Arrah, but ye're good stuff, Yan, an' I've got something +here'll plase ye." + +Raften now pulled out his purse and as magistrate paid over with +evident joy the $5 bounty due for killing the Lynx. Then he added: +"An' if it turns out as ye all claim" [and it did] "that this yer +beast is the Sheep-killer instid av old Turk, I'll add that other +tin." + +Thus Yan came into the largest sum be had ever owned in his life. + +Then the Indians went into their teepees. Caleb set up a stake in the +ground and on that a new shield of wood covered with rawhide; over the +rawhide was lightly fastened a piece of sacking. + +The guests were in a circle around this; at one side were some +skins--Yan's Lynx and Coon--and the two stuffed Owls. + +Then the drum was heard, "Túm-tum--túm-tum--túm-tum--túm-tum----" +There was a volley of war-whoops, and out of the teepees dashed the +Sanger Indians in full war paint. + + "Ki ki--ki yi--ki yi yi yi + Ki yi--ki yi--ki yi yi yi!" + +They danced in exact time to the two-measure of the drum that was +pounded by Blackhawk. Three times round the central post with the +shield they danced, then the drum stopped, and they joined in a grand +final war-whoop and squatted in a circle within that of the guests. + +The Great Woodpecker now arose--his mother had to be told who it +was--and made a characteristic speech: + +"Big Chiefs, Little Chiefs, and Squapooses of the Sanger Indians: A +number of things has happened to rob this yer nation of its noble Head +Chief; they kin never again expect to have his equal, but this yer +assembly is for to pick out a new one. We had a kind of whack at it +the other day, but couldn't agree. Since then we had a hard trip, and +things has cleared up some, same as puttin' Kittens in a pond will +tell which one is the swimmer, an' we're here to-day to settle it." + +Loud cries of "How--how--how--how--" while Blackhawk pounded the drum +vigorously. + +"O' course different ones has different gifts. Now who in all this +Tribe is the best runner? That's Little Beaver." + +("How--how--how--how--how--" and drum.) + +"That's my drum, Ma!" said Guy aside, forgetting to applaud. + +"Who is the best trailer and climber? Little Beaver, again, I reckon." + +("How--how--how--how--" and drum.) + +("He can't see worth a cent!" whispered Guy to his mother.) + +"Who was it won the trial of grit at Garney's grave? Why, it was +Little Beaver." + +("An' got pretty badly scared doin' it!" was Guy's aside.) + +"But who was it shot the Cat-Owl plumb in the heart, an' fit the Lynx +hand to hand, not to speak of the Coon? Little Beaver every time." + +("He never killed a Woodchuck in his life, Ma!") + +"Then, again, which of us can lay all the others on his back? Little +Beaver, I s'pose." + +("Well, I can lick Char-less, any time," was Guy's aside.) + +"Which of us has most _grand coups_ and scalps?" + +"Ye're forgittin' his eddication," put in Raften to be scornfully +ignored; even Little Beaver resented this as un-Indian. + +"Which has most scalps?" Sam repeated with sternness. "Here's a scalp +won in battle with the inimy," Woodpecker held it up, and the Medicine +Man fastened it on the edge of the shield that hung from the post. + +"Here is one tuk from the Head Chief of the hostiles," and Caleb +fastened that to the shield. "Here is another tuk from the Second +Chief of the hostiles," and Caleb placed it. "Here is one tuk from the +Great Head War Chief of the Sangers, and here is one from the Head +Chief of the Boilers, and another tuk in battle. Six scalps from six +famous warriors. This yere is the record for the whole Tribe, an' +Little Beaver done it; besides which, he draws pictures, writes +poethry and cooks purty good, an' I say Little Beaver is the one for +Chief! What says the rest?" and with one voice they shouted, "Hoorah +for Little Beaver!" + +"How--how--how--how--how--_thump, thump, thump, thump_." + +"Any feller anything to say agin it?" + +"I eh--" Guy began. + +--"has got to lick the Chief," Sam continued, and Guy did not complete +his objection, though he whispered to his mother, "If it was Char-less +I bet I'd show him." + +[Illustration: The shield] + +Caleb now pulled the cover off the shield that he fastened the scalps +to, and it showed the white Buffalo of the Sangers with a Little +Beaver above it. Then he opened a bundle lying near and produced a +gorgeous war-shirt of buff leather, a pair of leggins and moccasins, +all fringed, beaded and painted, made by Saryann under Caleb's +guidance. They were quickly put on the new Chief; his war bonnet, +splendid with the plumes of his recent exploits, was all ready; and +proud and happy in his new-found honours, not least of which were his +wounds, he stepped forward. + +[Illustration: Little Beaver, the New War Chief] + +Caleb viewed him with paternal pride and said: "I knowed ye was the +stuff the night ye went to Garney's grave, an' I knowed it again when +ye crossed the Big Swamp. Yan, ye could travel anywhere that man could +go," and in that sentence the boy's happiness was complete. He surely +was a Woodcrafter now. He stammered in a vain attempt to say something +appropriate, till Sam relieved him by: "Three cheers for the Head War +Chief!" and when the racket was over the women opened their baskets +and spread the picnic feast. Raften, who had been much gratified by +his son's flow of speech, recorded a new vow to make him study law, +but took advantage of the first gap in the chatter to say: + +"Bhise, ye'r two weeks' holiday with wan week extension was up at noon +to-day. In wan hour an' a half the Pigs is fed." + + * * * * * + + + + +INDEX + + +Arapahoes +Arrows-- + How to make + Individuality of +Arrow-wood + Illustration of +Ash-- + White + Illustration of + Black + +Bagg's, Widdy, place +Bald Eagle +Bald-Eagle-Settin'-on-a-Rock-with-his-Tail-Hangin'-over-the-Edge +Balsam +Balsam-fir +Balsam bark, used for tanning + Boughs for bed + Wood for rubbing-sticks + Illustration of +Banshee +Basswood + Usually hollow + Leaf illustration +Beavering +Bear hunt +Beaver River +Beech + Illustration of + Blue, illustration of +Biddy +Birch-- + White + Black + Canoe + Dishes + Mahogany + Sweet + Black +Illustration of +Blackbirds, Red-winged +Blackbird, purple (Jack) +Black Cherry + Lung balm + As a remedy +Blaze-- + Special + Road +Blood Robin +Blood Root +Bloody-Thundercloud-in-the-Afternoon +Bluebird +Blue-bottle Flies + Plague +Blue Cohosh +Blue Crane (Heron) +Blue-jay +Bobolink +Boilers +Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) +Bow-- + How to make + Bowstring +Bow-drill Yan makes + How to light a fire with +Boyle Char-less +Burns, Guy + Is captured by Yan and Sam + Becomes a member of the tribe + His stuffed Deer + His test of courage + Kills the Woodchuck + Name changed to Hawkeye +Butterfly, black +Butternuts-- + Used for dyeing + +Caleb Clark + His description of a teepee + His Indian adventures + Makes Indian war bonnet + His standard of a good shot + He tells Yan how to find his way in the woods + Shows the boys how to skin a horse + and how to tan skin + How to make moccasins + His opinion of hunters and hunting + His marksmanship + Encounter with Mr. Raften on the coon hunt + Story of his quarrel with Mr. Raften + Encounter with Bill Hennard + Gets possession of his farm +Calfskins, sold by boys + Used as drum-heads + Tanning of +Cardinal flowers +Cat + Fight with Skunk + Adopts young Squirrels + Is caught in the ketch-alive +Catnip-- + Tea + How it cured the Cat +Cedar, +Cedar-birds +Char-less (Red-squirrel) +Chenopodium +Chipmunk + Sam's Chipmunk capture +Chickadee, cock +Choke-cherry +Clam shells +Cohosh +Connor, Kitty +Coon-- + Hairs + Hunt + Tracks +Cottonwood root + Indians use to light fires +Council, the Grand +Coup, Grand +Cow-bird +Crawfish +Creeper +Crow-- + Split tongue + Common, tracks of +Cuckoo, black-billed +Cypripedium + +Dachshund +Daddy Longlegs and the cows +Dam-- + The boys build +Dandelion roots + Coffee +Deer-- + Guy's stuffed + Shooting game +De Neuville, Granny + Mr. Raften buys her Pigs + Her love of flowers and birds + She prescribes for Sam's leg + Her herb lore + Her visit from the robbers +Dew-cloth +Digby, Cyrus, (Blue-jay) +Dipper +Dog-- + How to tell height by track +Dogans +Downey's Dump +Droseræ (Fly-eating plants) +Ducks, flock of +Dyeing-- + With Butternuts + With Hemlock + With Goldthread + With Goldenrod + With Berries + With Pokeweed + With Elder shoots + With Oak chips + With Hickory bark + With Birch + With Dogwood + With Indigo herb + +Eagle Feathers + As worn by Indian Warriors +Elderberry-shoot, used for pipestem +Ellis, Bud, is cured by Lung Balm +Elm-- + Slippery + Swamp + Bark for teepees +Emmy Grants +Eupatorium perfoliatum (Boneset) + +Fire-- + How to light without matches + Right woods to use + Signal +Flicker + Illustration of nest +Flying-squirrel +Fox-- + His Rabbit hunt + Callaghan +Frogs + +Galium +Garney, Bill, grave of +Ginseng +Goldenrod-- + Used for dyeing + Usually points north +Golden Seal (Hydrastis Canadensis) +Goldthread +Graybird +Grip, the Dog +Gyascutus + +Hawk-- + Sharpshin + Fight with King-bird + Chicken + Red-shouldered + Sparrow +Hearne, Samuel +Hemlock, bark + Tree + Used for tanning +Henbane +Hennard, Bill +Herb-lore, Biddy's + Granny's +Heron (Blue Crane) +"Highbelier" +Hornet, blue +Horse, how to skin +Horse-hair-- + Turns to a snake +Humming-bird +Hydrastis Canadensis (Golden Seal) +Hyla pickeringii (Frog) + +Indian-- + Sense of smell + Teepees + Head-dresses + Telegram of good luck + Meaning of Eagle feathers + War bonnet + Ability to foretell storms + Games + Tests of eyes + Well + Drum + Smoke signs + Trail signs + Method of tanning skins + Paints + +Indian cucumber +Indian cup +Indian squaw-- + Yan's story of +Indian turnips +Indigo herb +Injun tobacco +Ironwood + +Jack-in-the-Pulpit +Jewel-flower +Jewelweed + +Ketchalive, how to make a +Kingbird + Fight with Hawk +Kingfishers +Kingroot + +Lancewood +Larry, how he made brooms +Lavender tea +Leatherwood +Lindera Benzoin (Spicebush) +Little Beaver +Lizard, Whistling +Lobelia +Long Swamp, trip to +Loon +Lung Balm +Lynx-- + Yan meets + Is killed in Long Swamp + +Mallard Duck +Mandrakes +Maple +Martins, Sand +"Massacrees" +May Apple +Mink-- + Kills Muskrat + How to catch +Minnie, makes peace between Yan and Sam +Minnow +Moccasin-- + How to make +Mosquitoes, how to keep out of teepee +Mouse, Field +Mud albums +Muskrat-- + Killed by Mink + Burrows hole in dam +Mussel shells + +Needles, made of Catfish bones +Niagara, Yan visits +North Star + +Oak, pick to make holes for sewing bark +Ojibwa +O'Leary, Phil +Osage orange +Oven bird +Owl, Stuffed + Hoot + Screech + Horned + Cat + Horned Owls, killed by Yan and Sam + How to stuff + +Parlour, the Raftens' +Partridge head for Mink bait +Peeper +Pelopæus, Mud-wasp +Peter (Peetweet) +Pine +Pine Grosbeak +Pipsissewa +Pleiades +Pleurisy root +Pogue, Dick +Pokeweed +Prattisons +Prayer-sticks + +Rabbit, how he escaped the Fox +Rad-- + Unkindness to Yan + Goes Lynx-hunting with Yan +Raften, Bud +Raften, Mrs., + kindness to Yan +Raften, Wm., + His characteristics + Helps the boys make their bed in teepee + Makes friends with Caleb and helps him out of his trouble +Rail + Sora rails +Red Squirrels + Nest robbed by boys +Robin-- + Guy kills + +Sam-- + His collection of birds' eggs + He visits Granny de Neuville + His skill with the axe +Sander-- + Taxidermist's shop + Exhibit of birds +Sage-brush root, Indians use to light fires +Sandals, worn when Dear-hunting +Sanger-- + Account of settlers + Custom of framing coffin-plates +Santees (Sioux) +Sassafras +Scarlet Tanager +Sees Yan again at Granny de Neuville's +Sharp-shin +Shells-- + Mussel + Clam +Shore-lark +Meadow-lark, pursued by Hawk +Shrew, Yan finds body of +Si Lee + Teaches the boys how to stuff Horned Owls +Skunk, fight with Cat +Skunk Cabbage +Skunk-root +Smoke, signs used by Indians +Snake, dies at sundown +Snipe, Teetering (Tipup) +"Sorry-plant" +Sparrow-- + Vesper + Song +Sparrow-hawk +Spear-mint +Spicewood (Lindera Benzoin) +Spider, kill a spider to make it rain +Squaw berries +Stramonium +Superstitious sayings, Biddy's +Swallows, shooting + Keep off lightning + +Taxidermy, Si Lee gives a lesson in +Teepee-- + Is begun + Does not prove satisfactory, smokes + Is blown down + Caleb Clark's description + Second teepee is begun + Storm-cap + How to place poles and ropes + Should face east + How to secure in a storm +Toads, give warts +Trails-- + Paper + Corn + Signs of +Trees, points of compass indicated by + How to tell height by shadow + How to measure distance between trees +Tree-frog +Turkey feathers for arrows +Turtle, mud +Tutnee + +Umbil, or "Sterrick-root" + +Veery +Vireo, Red-eyed + +Wakan Rock +War bonnets +Wasp, mud +Wesley (Blackhawk) +Whangerdoodle +Whippoorwill +White-man's Foot +White Oak pins for teepee +Whooping Crane +Willow, withes for tying teepee poles +Wind, how to tell direction of +Wintergreen +Witch-hazel-- + Will find water + Granny de Neuville's medicine +Woodchuck-- + Sam's story + Guy kills the old Woodchuck +Wood-duck +Wood-mouse +Wood-peewee +Woodpecker, Red-headed +Worm, measuring +Wormweed + +Yan-- + Homelife + His attempts to buy Owl + Love for spring + How he made the last dime for his first nature book + His meeting with the unknown naturalist + Discovery of Glenyan + Building of the shanty + Imitation of Indians + Makes a drawing of a Hawk + Identifies Coon-hairs + Is made ill by chewing leaves of strange plant + His list of trees + Tries to kill Wood-mouse + Makes a pipe and learns to smoke + Is punished for caricaturing his teacher + Finds his shanty destroyed by tramps + His illness + Begins to recover and visits Glenyan + His adventure with a Lynx + Takes Rad hunting + Is reproved by his mother for killing the Shore-lark + He goes to Sanger + His duties + He sees Sam's treasures + He and Sam begin the teepee + They light a fire in the teepee + Which smokes them out + They find the teepee blown down + Their visit to Granny de Neuville + Yan sees Biddy again + They visit Caleb Clark + They begin their second teepee + The canvas is sewn by Si Lee + Caleb teaches them to light a fire without matches + First fire in new teepee + They make bows and arrows; practice with them + They build a dam + Yan's story of the Indian squaw + He visits the Sanger Witch again + Takes dinner with her + They capture Guy Burns; admit him into the Tribe + Yan fights Sam and Guy + Comes to the assistance of the school trustees + Goes with Sam to live in the teepee for two weeks + Their first night in the woods + They are joined by Guy + Their foraging trip + Their Deer-shooting game + Their visit from Caleb + They sun their blankets + How they kept off Mosquitoes + They clean their camp + Carry their remnants of food to Wakan Rock + Dig an Indian well + Make an Indian drum + Yan sees fight between Cat and Skunk + They destroy a Red-squirrel's nest + He learns to build signal fire + Caleb tells him how to find his way in the woods + The boys learn how to tan skins + And how to make moccasins + Makes a ketchalive + Their visit from Mr. Raften + Yan's story of the Boy-that-wanted-to-know + The trip to Downey's Dump + They kill two Horned Owls + Si Lee gives them a lesson in taxidermy + Yan's test of grit + He draws the tracks near Bill Garney's grave + The Grand Council + The Coon-hunt + The Bear-hunt + Yan finds a Shrew + Is ill-treated by Bill Hennard + Trouble with the Boilers + He wins the fight with Blackhawk + The Boilers join the Sangers + Yan beats the city boy in wrestling-match + They start on hard trip + Yan and Pete make an exploring trip + Yan finds the Indian village + His fight with the Lynx + Receives bounty for killing lynx + Is made War Chief +Yan's Mother-- + Her morbidly religious nature + She reproves Yan for killing Shore-lark +Yellow Warbler +Yew-- + Spanish + Oregon + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO LITTLE SAVAGES*** + + +******* This file should be named 13499-8.txt or 13499-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/4/9/13499 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Two Little Savages</p> +<p>Author: Ernest Thompson Seton</p> +<p>Release Date: September 19, 2004 [eBook #13499]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO LITTLE SAVAGES***</p> +<br /> +<br /> +<h4>E-text prepared by Curtis Weyant, Lesley Halamek,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h4> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr class="pg" /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<h1><i><span class="emph">T</span>WO <span class="emph">L</span>ITTLE <span class="emph">S</span>AVAGES</i></h1> + + +<h3><i>Being the</i> ADVENTURES <i>of Two</i> BOYS<br /> + +<i>Who Lived as </i>INDIANS<i> and</i> <img src="images/title2a.gif" width="40" height="18" alt="Teepees" border="0" /><br /> + +<img src="images/title1a.gif" width="100" height="35" alt="Indian Tableau" border="0" /><i>What They</i> LEARNED.<br /><br /> + +WITH OVER THREE HUNDRED DRAWINGS</h3> +<p class="center"> + <img src="images/sketch001.gif" width="316" height="233" alt="Because I have known the torment of thirst I would dig a well where others may drink. - E.T.S." border="0" /> + </p> + +<h4><i>Written & Illustrated</i><br /> + +By</h4> + +<h2><i><span class="emph">E</span>RNEST <span class="emph">T</span>HOMPSON <span class="emph">S</span>ETON</i></h2> + +<h4>AUTHOR of <i>Wild Animals I have Known</i>, <i>Lives of the Hunted</i>,<br /> + +<i>Biography of a GRIZZLY</i>, <i>Trail of the SANDHILL STAG</i>, etcetera,<br /> + +& NATURALIST to the Government of MANITOBA.</h4> + +<h4>1917</h4> + + + <hr class="full" /> + + + +<h3>Preface</h3> + +<h4> +Because I have known the torment of thirst I would<br /> +dig a well where others may drink.<br /> + + + E.T.S.</h4> + + + <hr class="medium" /> +<h5> +In this Book the designs for Title-page, Jackets,<br /> +and general make-up were done by<br /> +Grace Gallatin Seton.</h5> + + <hr class="full" /> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>The Chapters</h3> + +<h3><a href="#I">Part I</a></h3> + +<h3>Glenyan & Yan</h3> +<table width="80%" align="center" border="0" summary="Part I Contents"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td width="7%" valign="top"> +<br /> +I.<br /> +II.<br /> +III.<br /> +IV.<br /> +V.<br /> +VI.<br /> +VII.<br /> +VIII.<br /> +IX.<br /> +X.<br /> +XI.<br /> +XII.<br /> +XIII.<br /> +XIV.<br /> </td> + <td width="70%" valign="top"><br /> +<a href="#1I">Glimmerings</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#1II">Spring </a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#1III">His Adjoining Brothers</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#1IV">The Book</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#1V">The Collarless Stranger</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#1VI">Glenyan</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#1VII">The Shanty</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#1VIII">The Beginnings of Woodlore</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#1IX">Tracks</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#1X">Biddy's Contribution</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#1XI">Lung Balm</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#1XII">A Crisis</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#1XIII">The Lynx</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#1XIV">Froth</a> . . .<br /></td> +<td width="5%" valign="top"> +Page<br /> + 19<br /> + 26<br /> + 28<br /> + 32<br /> + 38<br /> + 46<br /> + 50<br /> + 56<br /> + 66<br /> + 71<br /> + 76<br /> + 82<br /> + 88<br /> + 95<br /></td> + <td width="5%"> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /><br /> +<h3>The Chapters</h3> + +<h3><a href="#II">Part II</a></h3> + +<h3>Sanger & Sam</h3> +<table width="80%" align="center" border="0" summary="Part II Contents"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td width="7%" valign="top"> +<br /> +I.<br /> +II.<br /> +III.<br /> +IV.<br /> +V.<br /> +VI.<br /> +VII.<br /> +VIII.<br /> +IX. <br /> +X.<br /> +XI.<br /> +XII.<br /> +XIII.<br /> +XIV.<br /> +XV.<br /> + </td> + <td width="70%" valign="top"><br /> + <a href="#2I">The New Home</a>. . .<br /> + <a href="#2II">Sam</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2III">The Wigwam</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2IV">The Sanger Witch</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2V">Caleb</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2VI">The Making of the Teepee</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2VII">The Calm Evening</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2VIII">The Sacred Fire</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2IX">The Bows and Arrows</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2X">The Dam</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2XI">Yan and the Witch</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2XII">Dinner with the Witch</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2XIII">The Hostile Spy</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2XIV">The Quarrel</a> . . .<br /> + <a href="#2XV">The Peace of Minnie</a> . . .<br /></td> +<td width="5%" valign="top"> +Page<br /> + 103<br /> + 111<br /> + 117<br /> + 131<br /> + 141<br /> + 151<br /> + 157<br /> + 167<br /> + 176<br /> + 188<br /> + 199<br /> + 212<br /> + 218<br /> + 232<br /> + 241<br /></td> + <td width="5%"> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /><br /> +<h3>The Chapters</h3> + +<h3>Part III</h3> + +<h3>In the Woods</h3> +<table width="80%" align="center" border="0" summary="Part 3 Contents"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td width="7%" valign="top"> +<br /> +I.<br /> +II.<br /> +III.<br /> +IV.<br /> +V.<br /> +VI.<br /> +VII.<br /> +VIII.<br /> +IX. <br /> +X.<br /> +XI.<br /> +XII.<br /> +XIII.<br /> +XIV.<br /> +XV.<br /> +XVI.<br /> +XVII.<br /> +XVIII.<br /> +XIX.<br /> +XX.<br /> +XXI.<br /> +XXII.<br /> +XXIII.<br /> +XXIV.<br /> +XXV.<br /> +XXVI.<br /> +XXVII.<br /> +XXVIII.<br /> +XXIX.<br /> +XXX.<br /> +XXXI.<br /> +XXXII.<br /> +</td> + <td width="70%" valign="top"><br /> +<a href="#3I">Really in the Woods</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3II">The First Night and Morning</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3III">A Crippled Warrior and the Mud-Albums</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3IV">A "Massacree" of Palefaces</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3V">The Deer Hunt</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3VI">War Bonnet, Teepee and Coups</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3VII">Campercraft</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3VIII">The Indian Drum</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#3IX">The Cat and the Skunk</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3X">The Adventures of a Squirrel family</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XI">How to See the Woodfolk</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XII">Indian Signs and Getting Lost</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XIII">Tanning Skins and Making Moccasins</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XIV">Caleb's Philosophy</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XV">A Visit from Raften</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XVI">How Yan Knew the Ducks Afar</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XVII">Sam's Woodcraft Exploit</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XVIII">The Owls and the Night-School</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XIX">The Trial of Grit</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XX">The White Revolver</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XXI">The Triumph of Guy</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XXII">The Coon Hunt</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XXIII">The Banshee's Wail and the Huge Night Prowler</a> <br /> +<a href="#3XXIV">Hawkeye Claims Another Grand Coup</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XXV">The Three-fingered Tramp</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#3XXVI">Winning Back the farm</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#3XXVII">The Rival Tribe</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#3XXVIII">White Man's Woodcraft</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#3XXIX">The Long Swamp</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#3XXX">A New Kind of Coon</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#3XXXI">On the Old Camp Ground</a> . . . <br /> +<a href="#3XXXII">The New War Chief</a> . . . <br /> +</td> +<td width="5%" valign="top"> +Page<br /> + 251<br /> + 262<br /> + 270<br /> + 282<br /> + 288<br /> + 299<br /> + 314<br /> + 320<br /> + 327<br /> + 337<br /> + 344<br /> + 355<br /> + 364<br /> + 373<br /> + 379<br /> + 385<br /> + 394<br /> + 399<br /> + 411<br /> + 421<br /> + 429<br /> + 443<br /> + 456<br /> + 470<br /> + 478<br /> + 489<br /> + 496<br /> + 502<br /> + 508<br /> + 523<br /> + 534<br /> + 537<br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /><br /> + + +<h3>Illustrations</h3> +<h3>List of Full Pages</h3> + +<h3>Part I</h3> +<table width="80%" align="center" border="0" summary="Part I - List of Full Pages"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td width="7%" valign="top"> + + <br /> +1.<br /> +2.<br /> +3.<br /> +4.<br /> +5.<br /> +6.<br /> + </td> + <td width="70%" valign="top"><br /> +<a href="#22">"Gazing spellbound in that window"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#36">"He already knew the Downy Woodpecker"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#59">"Yan's Toilet"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#67">"The Coon Track"</a> . . .<br /> +"There in his dear cabin were three tramps" . . .<br /> +<a href="#91">"It surely was a Lynx"</a> . . .<br /> + + + </td> +<td width="5%" valign="top"> +Page<br /> + 22<br /> + 36<br /> + 59<br /> + 67<br /> + 85<br /> + 91<br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> +</tr> +</table> + +<br /><br /> +<h3>Part II</h3> +<table width="80%" align="center" border="0" summary="Part II - List of Full Pages"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td width="7%" valign="top"><br /> + 7.<br /> + 8.<br /> + 9.<br /> + 10.<br /> + 11.<br /> + 12.<br /> + 13.<br /> + 14.<br /> + 15.<br /> + 16.<br /> + </td> + <td width="70%" valign="top"><br /> +<a href="#127">"The wigwam was a failure"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#143">"Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#147">Pattern for Teepee</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#153">Pattern of Thunder Bull's Teepee and of Black Bull's Teepee</a><br /> +<a href="#159">"'Clicker-a-clicker!' he shrieked . . . and down like a dart"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#174">Rubbing-sticks for fire-making</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#183">The Archery Outfit</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#193">"The dam was a great success"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#223">"Ugh! Heap sassy"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#239">"There stood Raften, spectator of the whole affair"</a> . . .<br /> + </td> +<td width="5%" valign="top">Page + 127<br /> + 143<br /> + 147<br /> + 152<br /> + 159<br /> + 174<br /> + 183<br /> + 193<br /> + 223<br /> + 239<br /> + + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<br /><br /> + +<h3>Part III</h3> +<table width="80%" align="center" border="0" summary="Part III - List of Full Pages"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td width="7%" valign="top"><br /> +17.<br /> +18.<br /> +19.<br /> +20.<br /> +21.<br /> +22.<br /> +23.<br /> +24.<br /> +25.<br /> +26.<br /> +27.<br /> +28.<br /> +29.<br /> + + </td> + <td width="70%" valign="top"><br /> +<a href="#259">"If ye kill any Song-birds, I'll use the rawhoide on ye"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#266">"Where's the axe?"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#271">"He soon appeared, waving a branch"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#301">The War Bonnet</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#333">"The old Cat raged and tore"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#357">Indian Signs</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#361">"The Two Smokes"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#387">The Fish and River Ducks</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#391">The Sea Ducks</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#405">Owl-stuffing plate</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#433">"Guy gave a leap of terror and fell"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#480">"Well, sonny, cookin' dinner?"</a> . . .<br /> +<a href="#530">"He nervously fired and missed"</a> . . .<br /> + + </td> +<td width="5%" valign="top">Page + 259<br /> + 266<br /> + 271<br /> + 301<br /> + 333<br /> + 357<br /> + 361<br /> + 387<br /> + 391<br /> + 405<br /> + 433<br /> + 480<br /> + 529<br /> + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /><br /><br /> + + + <hr class="full" /> +<br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="19">19</a></span> +<h2>Two Little <a name="I">Savages</a></h2> + +<h3><a name="1I">I</a></h3> + +<h3>Glimmerings</h3> + +<p> +<img src="images/sketch003e.gif" align="left" width="100" height="107" hspace="10" alt="Y" border="0" /> +<br />AN was much like other twelve-year-old boys in having a keen interest +in Indians and in wild life, but he differed from most in this, that he +never got over it. Indeed, as he grew older, he found a yet keener +pleasure in storing up the little bits of woodcraft and Indian lore +that pleased him as a boy.</p> +<p> +His father was in poor circumstances. He was an +upright man of refined tastes, but indolent—a failure +in business, easy with the world and stern with his +family. He had never taken an interest in his son's +wildwood pursuits; and when he got the idea that +they might interfere with the boy's education, he +forbade them altogether.</p> +<p> +There was certainly no reason to accuse Yan of +neglecting school. He was the head boy of his +class, although there were many in it older than +<span class="left"><a name="20">20</a></span> +himself. He was fond of books in general, but those +that dealt with Natural Science and Indian craft +were very close to his heart. Not that he had many—there +were very few in those days, and the Public +Library had but a poor representation of these. +"Lloyd's Scandinavian Sports," "Gray's Botany" +and one or two Fenimore Cooper novels, these were +all, and Yan was devoted to them. He was a timid, +obedient boy in most things, but the unwise command +to give up what was his nature merely made him a +disobedient boy—turned a good boy into a bad one. +He was too much in terror of his father to disobey +openly, but he used to sneak away at all opportunities +to the fields and woods, and at each new bird or +plant he found he had an exquisite thrill of mingled +pleasure and pain—the pain because he had no name +for it or means of learning its nature.</p> + +<img src="images/sketch004a.gif" width="121" height="203" alt="The Stuffed Bear" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +The intense interest in animals was his master +passion, and thanks to this, his course to and from +school was a very crooked one, involving many +crossings of the street, because thereby he could pass +first a saloon in whose window was a champagne +advertising chromo that portrayed two Terriers +chasing a Rat; next, directly opposite this, was a +tobacconist's, in the window of which was a beautiful +effigy of an Elephant, laden with tobacco. By going +a little farther out of his way, there was a game store +where he might see some Ducks, and was sure, at +least, of a stuffed Deer's head; and beyond that was +a furrier shop, with an astonishing stuffed Bear.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="23">23</a></span> +<p> +At another point he could see a livery stable Dog +that was said to have killed a Coon, and at yet +another place on Jervie Street was a cottage with +a high veranda, under which, he was told, a chained +Bear had once been kept. He never saw the Bear. +It had been gone for years, but he found pleasure +in passing the place. At the corner of Pemberton +and Grand streets, according to a schoolboy tradition, +a Skunk had been killed years ago and could still +be smelled on damp nights. He always stopped, if +passing near on a wet night, and sniffed and enjoyed +that Skunk smell. The fact that it ultimately +turned out to be a leakage of sewer gas could never +rob him of the pleasure he originally found in it.</p> +<p> +Yan had no good excuse for these weaknesses, and +he blushed for shame when his elder brother talked +"common sense" to him about his follies. He only +knew that such things fascinated him.</p> +<p> +But the crowning glory was a taxidermist's shop +kept on Main Street by a man named Sander. Yan +spent, all told, many weeks gazing spellbound, with +his nose flat white against that window. It contained +some Fox and Cat heads grinning ferociously, +and about fifty birds beautifully displayed. Nature +might have got some valuable hints in that window +on showing plumage to the very best advantage. Each +bird seemed more wonderful than the last.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="22">22</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus01a.jpg" width="525" height="883" alt="Gazing spellbound in that window" border="0" /></p> +<p> +There were perhaps fifty of them on view, and +of these, twelve had labels, as they had formed part +of an exhibit at the Annual County Fair. These +<span class="left"><a name="24">24</a></span> +labels were precious truths to him, and the birds:</p> +<table summary="bird labels"> +<tr> + <td width="20%"> </td> + <td class="list" width="30%" valign="top"> +Osprey<br /> +Kingfisher<br /> +Bluejay<br /> +Rosebreasted Grosbeak<br /> +Woodthrush<br /> +Scarlet Tanager<br /> + </td> + <td class="list" width="30%" valign="top"> +Partridge or Ruffed Grouse<br /> +Bittern<br /> +Highholder<br /> +Sawwhet Owl<br /> +Oriole<br /> +* * * * * * *<br /> + </td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<p> +were, with their names, deeply impressed on his memory +and added to his woodlore, though not altogether +without a mixture of error. For the alleged Woodthrush +was not a Woodthrush at all, but turned out +to be a Hermit Thrush. The last bird of the list +was a long-tailed, brownish bird with white breast. +<img src="images/sketch005.gif" width="56" height="489" alt="The Label" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +The label was placed so that Yan could not read it +from outside, and one of his daily occupations +was to see if the label had been turned so that he +could read it. But it never was, so he never learned +the bird's name.</p> + +<p> +After passing this for a year or more, he formed +a desperate plan. It was nothing less than to <i>go +inside</i>. It took him some months to screw up +courage, for he was shy and timid, but oh! he was +so hungry for it. Most likely if he had gone in openly +and asked leave, he would have been allowed to see +everything; but he dared not. His home training +was all of the crushing kind. He picked on the most +curious of the small birds in the window—a Sawwhet +Owl then grit his teeth and walked in. How +frightfully the cowbell on the door did clang! Then +there succeeded a still more appalling silence, then +<span class="left"><a name="25">25</a></span> +a step and the great man himself came.</p> +<p> +"How—how—how much is that Owl?"</p> +<p> +"Two dollars."</p> + +<p> +Yan's courage broke down now. He fled. If +he had been told ten cents, it would have been +utterly beyond reach. He scarcely heard what the +man said. He hurried out with a vague feeling that +he had been in heaven but was not good enough to +stay there. He saw nothing of the wonderful things +around him.</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="26">26</a></span> +<h3><a name="1II">II</a></h3> + +<h3>Spring</h3> + +<p> +Yan, though not strong, revelled in deeds of +brawn. He would rather have been Samson +than Moses—Hercules than Apollo. All his +tastes inclined him to wild life. Each year when the +spring came, he felt the inborn impulse to up and +away. He was stirred through and through when +the first Crow, in early March, came barking over-head. +But it fairly boiled in his blood when the +Wild Geese, in long, double, arrow-headed procession, +went clanging northward. He longed to go with +them. Whenever a new bird or beast appeared, he +had a singular prickling feeling up his spine and his +back as though he had a mane that was standing +up. This feeling strengthened with his strength.</p> +<p> +All of his schoolmates used to say that they "liked" +the spring, some of the girls would even say that they +"dearly loved" the spring, but they could not +understand the madness that blazed in Yan's eyes +when springtime really came—the flush of cheek—the +shortening breath—the restless craving for +action—the chafing with flashes of rebellion at school +restraints—the overflow of nervous energy—the +bloodthirst in his blood—the hankering to run—to +run to the north, when the springtime tokens bugled +<span class="left"><a name="27">27</a></span> +to his every sense.</p> +<p> +Then the wind and sky and ground were full of +thrill. There was clamour everywhere, but never a +word. There was stirring within and without. +There was incentive in the yelping of the Wild Geese; +but it was only tumult, for he could not understand +why he was so stirred. There were voices that he could +not hear—messages that he could not read; all was +confusion of tongues. He longed only to get away.</p> +<p> +"If only I could get away. If—if—Oh, God!" he +stammered in torment of inexpression, and then +would gasp and fling himself down on some bank, +and bite the twigs that chanced within reach and +tremble and wonder at himself.</p> +<p> +Only one thing kept him from some mad and +suicidal move—from joining some roving Indian band +up north, or gypsies nearer—and that was the strong +hand at home.</p> +<p class="indent"> +<img src="images/sketch006.gif" width="353" height="186" alt="Indian Spring Migration" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="28">28</a></span> +<h3><a name="1III">III</a></h3> + +<h3>His Adjoining Brothers</h3> + +<p> +Yan had many brothers, but only those next him +in age were important in his life. Rad was two +years older—a strong boy, who prided himself +on his "common sense." Though so much older, he +was Yan's inferior at school. He resented this, and +delighted in showing his muscular superiority at all +opportunities. He was inclined to be religious, and +was strictly proper in his life and speech. He never +was known to smoke a cigarette, tell a lie, or say +"gosh" or "darn." He was plucky and persevering, +but he was cold and hard, without a human fiber +or a drop of red blood in his make-up. Even as a +boy he bragged that he had no enthusiasms, that +he believed in common sense, that he called a spade +a spade, and would not use two words where one +would do. His intelligence was above the average, +but he was so anxious to be thought a person of +rare sagacity and smartness, unswayed by emotion, +that nothing was too heartless for him to do if it +seemed in line with his assumed character. He +was not especially selfish, and yet he pretended +to be so, simply that people should say of him significantly +and admiringly: "Isn't he keen? Doesn't he +<span class="left"><a name="29">29</a></span> +know how to take care of himself?" What little +human warmth there was in him died early, and +he succeeded only in making himself increasingly +detested as he grew up.</p> +<p> +His relations to Yan may be seen in one incident.</p> +<p> +Yan had been crawling about under the house in +the low wide cobwebby space between the floor +beams and the ground. The delightful sensation of +being on an exploring expedition led him farther +(and ultimately to a paternal thrashing for soiling +his clothes), till he discovered a hollow place near one +side, where he could nearly stand upright. He at +once formed one of his schemes—to make a secret, or +at least a private, workroom here. He knew that +if he were to ask permission he would be refused, +but if he and Rad together were to go it might +receive favourable consideration on account of Rad's +self-asserted reputation for common sense. For a +wonder, Rad was impressed with the scheme, but +was quite sure that they had "better not go together +to ask Father." He "could manage that part better +alone," and he did.</p> +<p> +Then they set to work. The first thing was to +deepen the hole from three feet to six feet everywhere, +and get rid of the earth by working it back under the +floor of the house. There were many days of labour +in this, and Yan stuck to it each day after returning +from school. There were always numerous reasons why +Rad could not share in the labour. When the ten by +fourteen-foot hole was made, boards to line and floor +<span class="left"><a name="30">30</a></span> +it were needed. Lumber was very cheap—inferior, +second-hand stuff was to be had for the asking—and +Yan found and carried boards enough to make +the workroom. Rad was an able carpenter and now +took charge of the construction. They worked +together evening after evening, Yan discussing all +manner of plans with warmth and enthusiasm—what +they would do in their workshop when finished—how +they might get a jig-saw in time and saw picture +frames, so as to make some money. Rad assented +with grunts or an occasional Scripture text—that +was his way. Each day he told Yan what to go on +with while he was absent.</p> +<p> +The walls were finished at length; a window placed +in one side; a door made and fitted with lock and key. +What joy! Yan glowed with pleasure and pride at +the triumphant completion of his scheme. He swept +up the floor for the finishing ceremony and sat down on +the bench for a grand gloat, when Rad said abruptly:</p> +<p> +"Going to lock up now." That sounded gratifyingly +important. Yan stepped outside. Rad locked +the door, put the key in his pocket, then turning, +he said with cold, brutal emphasis:</p> +<p> +"Now you keep out of my workshop from this on. +<i>You</i> have nothing to do with it. It's mine. I got +the permission to make it." All of which he could +prove, and did.</p> +<img src="images/sketch007.gif" width="112" height="201" alt="Alner" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> + +<hr class="medium" /> + +<p> + +Alner, the youngest, was eighteen months younger +than Yan, and about the same size, but the resemblance +stopped there. His chief aim in life was to +<span class="left"><a name="31">31</a></span> +be stylish. He once startled his mother by inserting +into his childish prayers the perfectly sincere request: +"Please, God, make me an awful swell, for Jesus +sake." Vanity was his foible, and laziness his sin.</p> +<p> +He could be flattered into anything that did not +involve effort. He fairly ached to be famous. He +was consuming with desire to be pointed out for +admiration as the great this, that or the other thing—it +did not matter to him what, as long as he could be +pointed out. But he never had the least idea of +working for it. At school he was a sad dunce. He +was three grades below Yan and at the bottom of +his grade. They set out for school each day together, +because that was a paternal ruling; but they rarely +reached there together. They had nothing in common. +Yan was full of warmth, enthusiasm, earnestness +and energy, but had a most passionate and ungovernable +temper. Little put him in a rage, but it was soon +over, and then an equally violent reaction set in, +and he was always anxious to beg forgiveness and +make friends again. Alner was of lazy good temper +and had a large sense of humour. His interests +were wholly in the playground. He had no sympathy +with Yan's Indian tastes—"Indians in nasty, shabby +clothes. Bah! Horrid!" he would scornfully say.</p> +<p> +These, then, were his adjoining brothers.</p> +<p> +What wonder that Yan was daily further from +them.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="32">32</a></span> +<h3><a name="1IV">IV</a></h3> + +<h3>The Book</h3> + +<p> +But the greatest event of Yan's then early life +now took place. His school readers told him +about Wilson and Audubon, the first and last +American naturalists. Yan wondered why no other +great prophet had arisen. But one day the papers +announced that at length he had appeared. A +work on the Birds of Canada, by ..., had come +at last, price one dollar.</p> +<p> +Money never before seemed so precious, necessary +and noble a thing. "Oh! if I only had a dollar." +He set to work to save and scrape. He won marbles +in game, swopped marbles for tops, tops for jack-knives +as the various games came around with +strange and rigid periodicity. The jack-knives in +turn were converted into rabbits, the rabbits into +cash of small denominations. He carried wood for +strange householders; he scraped and scraped and +saved the scrapings; and got, after some months, as +high as ninety cents. But there was a dread fatality +about that last dime. No one seemed to have any +<img src="images/sketch008.gif" alt="Converting marbles into tops, into jack-knives, into rabbits, into cash..." hspace="15" style="float: left" width="248" height="421" border="0" /> +more odd jobs; his commercial luck deserted him. +He was burnt up with craving for that book. None +of his people took interest enough in him to advance +the cash even at the ruinous interest (two or three +<span class="left"><a name="33">33</a></span> +times cent per cent) that he was willing to bind himself +for. Six weeks passed before he achieved that +last dime, and he never felt conscience-clear about +it afterward.</p> + +<p> +He and Alner had to cut the kitchen wood. Each +had his daily allotment, as well as other chores. +Yan's was always done faithfully, but the other +evaded his work in every way. He was a +notorious little fop. The paternal poverty did not +permit his toilet extravagance to soar above one +paper collar per week, but in his pocket he carried a +piece of ink eraser with which he was careful to keep +the paper collar up to standard. Yan cared nothing +about dress—indeed, was inclined to be slovenly. +So the eldest brother, meaning to turn Alner's weakness +to account, offered a prize of a twenty-five-cent +necktie of the winner's own choice to the one who did +his chores best for a month. For the first week +Alner and Yan kept even, then Alner wearied, in +spite of the dazzling prize. The pace was too hot. +Yan kept on his usual way and was duly awarded +the twenty-five cents to be spent on a necktie. But +in the store a bright thought came tempting him. +Fifteen cents was as much as any one should spend on +a necktie—that's sure; the other ten would get the +book. And thus the last dime was added to the pile. +Then, bursting with joy and with the pride of a +capitalist, he went to the book-shop and asked for +the coveted volume.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="34">34</a></span> +<p> +He was tense with long-pent feeling. He expected +to have the bookseller say that the price had gone +up to one thousand dollars, and that all were sold. +But he did not. He turned silently, drew the book +out of a pile of them, hesitated and said, "Green or +red cover?"</p> +<p> +"Green," said Yan, not yet believing. The book-man +looked inside, then laid it down, saying in a cold, +business tone, "Ninety cents."</p> +<p> +"Ninety cents," gasped Yan. Oh! if only he had +known the ways of booksellers or the workings of cash +discounts. For six weeks had he been barred this +happy land—had suffered starvation; he had misappropriated +funds, he had fractured his conscience +and all to raise that ten cents—that unnecessary dime.</p> +<p> +He read that book reverentially all the way home. +It did not give him what he wanted, but that doubtless +was his own fault. He pored over it, studied +it, loved it, never doubting that now he had the key +to all the wonders and mysteries of Nature. It was +five years before he fully found out that the text +was the most worthless trash ever foisted on a torpid +public. Nevertheless, the book held some useful +things; first, a list of the bird names; second, some +thirty vile travesties of Audubon and Wilson's bird +portraits.</p> +<p> +These were the birds thus maligned:</p> +<table summary="maligned birds"> +<tr> +<td width="15%"> </td> + <td class="list" width="30%" valign="top"> +Duck Hawk <br /> +Sparrow Hawk <br /> +White-headed Eagle<br /> +<span class="left"><a name="37">37</a></span> +Great Horned Owl<br /> +Snowy Owl<br /> +Red-headed Woodpecker<br /> +Golden-winged Woodpecker<br /> +Barn-swallow<br /> +Whip-poor-will<br /> +Night Hawk<br /> +Belted Kingfisher<br /> +Kingbird<br /> +Woodthrush<br /> +Catbird<br /> +White-bellied Nuthatch<br /> +Brown Creeper<br /> +Bohemian Chatterer<br /> +Great Northern Shrike<br /> +Shore Lark<br /> + </td> + <td class="list" width="30%" valign="top"> +Rose-breasted Grosbeak<br /> +Bobolink<br /> +Meadow Lark<br /> +Bluejay<br /> +Ruffed Grouse<br /> +Great Blue Heron<br /> +Bittern<br /> +Wilson's Snipe<br /> +Long-biller Curlew<br /> +Purple Gallinule<br /> +Canada Goose<br /> +Wood Duck<br /> +Hooded Merganser<br /> +Double-crested Cormorant<br /> +Arctic Tern<br /> +Great Northern Diver<br /> +Stormy Petrel<br /> +Arctic Puffin<br /> +Black Guillemot<br /> + </td> +</tr> +</table> +<span class="left"><a name="36">36</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus02a.jpg" width="525" height="770" alt="He already knew the Downy Woodpecker" border="0" /></p> +<p> +But badly as they were presented, the pictures +were yet information, and were entered in his +memory as lasting accessions to his store of truth +about the Wild Things.</p> +<p> +Of course, he already knew some few birds whose +names are familiar to every schoolboy: the Robin, +Bluebird, Kingbird, Wild Canary, Woodpecker, +Barn-swallow, Wren, Chickadee, Wild Pigeon, Humming-bird, +Pewee, so that his list was steadily +increased.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="38">38</a></span> +<h3><a name="1V">V</a></h3> + +<h3>The Collarless Stranger</h3> + +<img src="images/spotted_pipsissewa.gif" width="120" height="264" alt="Spotted Pipsissewa" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p class="indent1"> + Oh, sympathy! the noblest gift of God to man. The greatest bond<br /> +there is twixt man and man.<br /> + The strongest link in any friendship chain.<br /> + The single lasting hold in kinship's claim.<br /> + The only incorrosive strand in marriage bonds.<br /> + The blazing torch where genius lights her lamp.<br /> + The ten times noble base of noblest love.<br /> + More deep than love—more strong than hate—the biggest thing<br /> +in all the universe—the law of laws.<br /> + Grant but this greatest gift of God to man—this single link<br /> +concatenating grant, and all the rest are worthless or comprised.<br /> +</p> +<p> +Each year the ancient springtime madness came +more strongly on Yan. Each year he was less +inclined to resist it, and one glorious day of +late April in its twelfth return he had wandered northward +along to a little wood a couple of miles from +the town. It was full of unnamed flowers and voices +and mysteries. Every tree and thicket had a voice—a +long ditch full of water had many that called to +him. "<i>Peep-peep-peep</i>," they seemed to say in +invitation for him to come and see. He crawled +again and again to the ditch and watched and waited. +The loud whistle would sound only a few rods away, +"<i>Peep-peep-peep</i>," but ceased at each spot when he +came near—sometimes before him, sometimes behind, +<span class="left"><a name="39">39</a></span> +but never where he was. He searched through a +small pool with his hands, sifted out sticks and leaves, +but found nothing else. A farmer going by told +him it was only a "spring Peeper," whatever that was, +"some kind of a critter in the water."</p> +<p class="indent"> +<img src="images/sketch009.gif" width="278" height="71" alt="Lizard" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Under a log not far away Yan found a little Lizard +that tumbled out of sight into a hole. It was the only +living thing there, so he decided that the "Peeper" +must be a "Whistling Lizard." But he was determined +to see them when they were calling. How was +it that the ponds all around should be full of them +calling to him and playing hide and seek and yet defying +his most careful search? The voices ceased as +soon as he came near, to be gradually renewed in the +pools he had left. His presence was a husher. He +lay for a long time watching a pool, but none of the +voices began again in range of his eye. At length, +after realizing that they were avoiding him, he crawled +to a very noisy pond without showing himself, and +nearer and yet nearer until he was within three feet of +a loud peeper in the floating grass. He located the +spot within a few inches and yet could see nothing. +He was utterly baffled, and lay there puzzling over +it, when suddenly all the near Peepers stopped, and +Yan was startled by a footfall; and looking around, +he saw a man within a few feet, watching him.</p> +<p> +Yan reddened—a stranger was always an enemy; +he had a natural aversion to all such, and stared +awkwardly as though caught in crime.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="40">40</a></span> +<p> +The man, a curious looking middle-aged person, +was in shabby clothes and wore no collar. He had a +tin box strapped on his bent shoulders, and in his +hands was a long-handled net. His features, smothered +in a grizzly beard, were very prominent and +rugged. They gave evidence of intellectual force, +with some severity, but his gray-blue eyes had a +kindly look.</p> +<p> +He had on a common, unbecoming, hard felt hat, +and when he raised it to admit the pleasant breeze +Yan saw that the wearer had hair like his own—a +coarse, paleolithic mane, piled on his rugged brow, +like a mass of seaweed lodged on some storm-beaten +rock.</p> +<p> +"F'what are ye fynding, my lad?" said he in tones +whose gentleness was in no way obscured by a strong +Scottish tang.</p> +<p> +Still resenting somewhat the stranger's presence, +Yan said:</p> +<p> +"I'm not finding anything; I am only trying to +see what that Whistling Lizard is like."</p> +<p> +The stranger's eyes twinkled. "Forty years ago Ah +was laying by a pool just as Ah seen ye this morning, +looking and trying hard to read the riddle of the +spring Peeper. Ah lay there all day, aye, and mony +anither day, yes, it was nigh onto three years before +Ah found it oot. Ah'll be glad to save ye seeking +as long as Ah did, if that's yer mind. Ah'll show ye +the Peeper."</p> +<img src="images/sketch010.gif" width="89" height="104" align="right" alt="Frog: Spring Peeper" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +Then he raked carefully among the leaves near +<span class="left"><a name="41">41</a></span> +the ditch, and soon captured a tiny Frog, less than +an inch long.</p> +<p> +"Ther's your Whistling Lizard: he no a Lizard at +all, but a Froggie. Book men call him <i>Hyla pickeringii</i>, +an' a gude Scotchman he'd make, for ye see the St. +Andrew's cross on his wee back. Ye see the whistling +ones in the water put on'y their beaks oot an' is hard +to see. Then they sinks to the bottom when ye +come near. But you tak this'n home and treat him +well and ye'll see him blow out his throat as big as +himsel' an' whistle like a steam engine."</p> +<p> +Yan thawed out now. He told about the Lizard +he had seen.</p> +<p> +"That wasna a Lizard; Ah niver see thim aboot +here. It must a been a two-striped <i>Spelerpes</i>. A +<i>Spelerpes</i> is nigh kin to a Frog—a kind of dry-land +tadpole, while a Lizard is only a Snake with legs."</p> +<p> +This was light from heaven. All Yan's distrust +was gone. He warmed to the stranger. He plied +him with questions; he told of his getting the Bird +Book. Oh, how the stranger did snort at "that +driveling trash." Yan talked of his perplexities. +He got a full hearing and intelligent answers. His +mystery of the black ground-bird with a brown mate +was resolved into the Common Towhee. The +unknown wonderful voice in the spring morning, +sending out its "<i>cluck, cluck, cluck, clucker</i>," in the +distant woods, the large gray Woodpecker that bored +in some high stub and flew in a blaze of gold, and +the wonderful spotted bird with red head and yellow +wings and tail in the taxidermist's window, were all +<span class="left"><a name="42">42</a></span> +resolved into one and the same—the Flicker or +Golden-winged Woodpecker. The Hang-nest and the +Oriole became one. The unknown poisonous-looking +blue Hornet, that sat on the mud with palpitating +body, and the strange, invisible thing that made the +mud-nests inside old outbuildings and crammed +them with crippled Spiders, were both identified as +the Mud-wasp or <i>Pelopæus</i>.</p> +<img src="images/blackbutterfly1a.gif" width="130" height="90" alt="Black butterfly, Vanessa antiopa" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +A black Butterfly flew over, and Yan learned that +it was a Camberwell Beauty, or, scientifically, a +<i>Vanessa antiopa</i>, and that this one must have +hibernated to be seen so early in the spring, and +yet more, that this beautiful creature was the glorified +spirit of the common brown and black spiney +Caterpillar.</p> +<p> +The Wild Pigeons were flying high above them in +great flocks as they sat there, and Yan learned of +their great nesting places in the far South, and of +their wonderful but exact migrations without regard +to anything but food; their northward migration +to gather the winged nuts of the Slippery Elm in +Canada; their August flight to the rice-fields of +Carolina; their Mississippi Valley pilgrimage when +the acorns and beech-mast were falling ripe.</p> +<p> +What a rich, full morning that was. Everything +seemed to turn up for them. As they walked over +a piney hill, two large birds sprang from the ground +and whirred through the trees.</p> +<p> +"Ruffed Grouse or 'patridge', as the farmers call +<span class="left"><a name="43">43</a></span> +them. There's a pair lives nigh aboots here. They +come on this bank for the Wintergreen berries."</p> +<p> +And Yan was quick to pull and taste them. He +filled his pockets with the aromatic plant—berries +and all—and chewed it as he went. While they +walked, a faint, far drum-thump fell on their ears. +"What's that?" he exclaimed, ever on the alert. +The stranger listened and said: +<img src="images/sketch011.gif" alt="Flowering Dogwood" style="float: left" width="189" height="120" border="0" /> +</p> +<p><br /> +"That's the bird ye ha' just seen; that's the Cock +Partridge drumming for his mate."</p> +<p> +The Pewee of his early memories became the +Phoebe of books. That day his brookside singer +became the Song-sparrow; the brown triller, the +Veery Thrush. The Trilliums, white and red, the +Dogtooth Violet, the Spring-beauty, the Trailing +Arbutus—all for the first time got names and became +real friends, instead of elusive and beautiful, but +depressing mysteries.</p> +<p> +The stranger warmed, too, and his rugged features +glowed; he saw in Yan one minded like himself, tormented +with the knowledge-hunger, as in youth he +himself had been; and now it was a priceless privilege +to save the boy some of what he had suffered. His +gratitude to Yan grew fervid, and Yan—he took +in every word; nothing that he heard was forgotten. +He was in a dream, for he had found at last the +greatest thing on earth—sympathy—broad, intelligent, +comprehensive sympathy. +<img src="images/sketch012.gif" alt="Trailing Arbutus" width="200" height="137" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +</p><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p> +That spring morning was ever after like a new +epoch in Yan's mind—not his memory, that was a +thing of the past—but in his mind, his living +<span class="left"><a name="44">44</a></span> +present.</p> +<img src="images/sketch013.gif" width="138" height="257" alt="Spring Beauty" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +And the strongest, realest thing in it all was, not +the rugged stranger with his kind ways, not the new +birds and plants, but the smell of the Wintergreen.</p> +<p> +Smell's appeal to the memory is far better, stronger, +more real than that of any other sense. The Indians +know this; many of them, in time, find out the smell +that conjures up their happiest hours, and keep +it by them in the medicine bag. It is very real and +dear to them—that handful of Pine needles, that +lump of Rat-musk, or that piece of Spruce gum. +It adds the crown of happy memory to their reveries.</p> +<p> +And yet this belief is one of the first attacked by +silly White-men, who profess to enlighten the Red-man's +darkness. They, in their ignorance, denounce +it as absurd, while men of science know its simple +truth.</p> +<img src="images/sketch014.gif" width="130" height="374" alt="Purple Moccasin" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +Yan did not know that he had stumbled on a +secret of the Indian medicine bag. But ever afterward +that wonderful day was called back to him, +conjured up by his "medicine," this simple, natural +magic, the smell of the Wintergreen.</p> +<p> +He appreciated that morning more than he could +tell, and yet he did a characteristic foolish thing, +that put him in a wrong light and left him so in the +stranger's mind.</p> +<p> +It was past noon. They had long lingered; the +Stranger spoke of the many things he had at home; +then at length said he must be going. "Weel, +<span class="left"><a name="45">45</a></span> +good-by, laddie; Ah hope Ah'll see you again." He +held out his hand. Yan shook it warmly; but he +was dazed with thinking and with reaction; his +diffidence and timidity were strong; he never rose +to the stranger's veiled offer. He let him go without +even learning his name or address.</p> +<p> +When it was too late, Yan awoke to his blunder. +He haunted all those woods in hopes of chancing +on him there again, but he never did.</p> +<br /> + + + +<img src="images/sketch015.gif" alt="The Wild Geese" style="float: left" width="145" height="185" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="46">46</a></span> +<h3><a name="1VI">VI</a></h3> + +<h3>Glenyan</h3> +<p> +Oh! what a song the Wild Geese sang that year! +How their trumpet clang went thrilling in his +heart, to smite there new and hidden chords +that stirred and sang response. Was there ever a +nobler bird than that great black-necked Swan, that +sings not at his death, but in his flood of life, a song of +home and of peace—of stirring deeds and hunting in +far-off climes—of hungerings and food, and raging +thirsts to meet with cooling drink. A song of wind +and marching, a song of bursting green and grinding +ice—of Arctic secrets and of hidden ways. A song +of a long black marsh, a low red sky, and a sun that +never sets.</p> +<p> +An Indian jailed for theft bore bravely through +the winter, but when the springtime brought the +Gander-clang in the black night sky, he started, fell, +and had gone to his last, long, hunting home.</p> +<p> +<img src="images/sketch016.gif" width="112" height="174" alt="Tulip Tree Leaf" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +Who can tell why Jericho should fall at the trumpet +blast?</p> +<p> +Who can read or measure the power of the Honker-song?</p> + +<p> +Oh, what a song the Wild Geese sang that year! +And yet, was it a new song? No, the old, old song, +but Yan heard it with new ears. He was learning +<span class="left"><a name="47">47</a></span> +to read its message. He wandered on their +trailless track, as often as he could, northward, +ever northward, up the river from the town, and +up, seeking the loneliest ways and days. The river +turned to the east, but a small stream ran into +it from the north: up that Yan went through thickening +woods and walls that neared each other, on +and up until the walls closed to a crack, then +widened out into a little dale that was still full +<img src="images/sketch017.gif" width="88" height="127" alt="Leaf" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +of original forest trees. Hemlock, Pine, Birch and +Elm of the largest size abounded and spread over the +clear brook a continuous shade. Fox vines trailed in +the open places, the rarest wild-flowers flourished, +Red-squirrels chattered from the trees. In the mud +along the brook-side were tracks of Coon and Mink and +other strange fourfoots. And in the trees overhead, +the Veery, the Hermit-thrush, or even a Woodthrush + +sang his sweetly solemn strain, in that golden twilight +of the midday forest. Yan did not know them +all by name as yet, but he felt their vague charm and +mystery. It seemed such a far and lonely place, so +unspoiled by man, that Yan persuaded himself that +surely he was the first human being to stand there, +that it was his by right of discovery, and so he claimed +it and named it after its discoverer—Glenyan.</p> + +<p> +This place became the central thought in his life. +He went there at all opportunities, but never dared +to tell any one of his discovery. He longed for a +confidant sometimes, he hankered to meet the +<span class="left"><a name="48">48</a></span> +stranger and take him there, and still he feared that +the secret would get out. This was his little kingdom; +the Wild Geese had brought him here, as the Seagulls +had brought Columbus to a new world—where he +could lead, for brief spells, the woodland life that +<img src="images/sketch018a.gif" width="130" height="156" alt="Leaf" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +was his ideal. He was tender enough to weep over +the downfall of a lot of fine Elm trees in town, when +their field was sold for building purposes, and he +used to suffer a sort of hungry regret when old settlers +told how plentiful the Deer used to be. But now he +had a relief from these sorrows, for surely there was one +place where the great trees should stand and grow as +in the bright bygone; where the Coon, the Mink and +the Partridge should live and flourish forever. No, +indeed, no one else should know of it, for if the secret +got out, at least hosts of visitors would come and +Glenyan be defiled. No, better that the secret +<img src="images/sketch019.gif" width="131" height="267" alt="Basswood leaf" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +should "die with him," he said. What that meant +he did not really know, but he had read the phrase +somewhere and he liked the sound of it. Possibly +he would reveal it on his deathbed.</p> +<p> +Yes, that was the proper thing, and he pictured a +harrowing scene of weeping relatives around, himself +as central figure, all ceasing their wailing and gasping +with wonder as he made known the mighty secret of +his life—delicious! it was almost worth dying for.</p> +<p> +So he kept the place to himself and loved it more +and more. He would look out through the thick +Hemlock tops, the blots of Basswood green or the +criss-cross Butternut leafage and say: "My own, my +own." Or down by some pool in the limpid stream +<span class="left"><a name="49">49</a></span> +he would sit and watch the arrowy Shiners and say: +"You are mine, all; you are mine. You shall never +be harmed or driven away."</p> +<p> +A spring came from the hillside by a green lawn, +and here Yan would eat his sandwiches varied with +nuts and berries that he did not like, but ate only +because he was a wildman, and would look lovingly +up the shady brookland stretches and down to the +narrow entrance of the glen, and say and think and +feel. "This is mine, my own, my very own."</p> +<p class="indent"> +<img src="images/sketch020.gif" width="175" height="299" alt="Liverwort" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch021.gif" width="176" height="42" align="left" hspace="10" alt="Yan's Shovel" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="50">50</a></span> +<h3><a name="1VII">VII</a></h3> + +<h3>The Shanty</h3> + +<p> +He had none but the poorest of tools, but he set +about building a shanty. He was not a resourceful +boy. His effort to win the book had +been an unusual one for him, as his instincts were not +at all commercial. When that matter came to the +knowledge of the Home Government, he was rebuked +for doing "work unworthy of a gentleman's son" and +forbidden under frightful penalties "ever again to +resort to such degrading ways of raising money."</p> +<p> +They gave him no money, so he was penniless. +Most boys would have possessed themselves somehow +of a good axe and spade. He had neither. An +old plane blade, fastened to a stick with nails, was +all the axe and spade he had, yet with this he set to +work and offset its poorness as a tool by dogged +persistency. First, he selected the quietest spot near +the spring—a bank hidden by a mass of foliage. He +knew no special reason for hiding it, beyond the love +of secrecy. He had read in some of his books "how +the wily scouts led the way through a pathless jungle, +pulled aside a bough and there revealed a comfortable +dwelling that none without the secret could possibly +have discovered," so it seemed very proper to make it +a complete mystery—a sort of secret panel in the +<span class="left"><a name="51">51</a></span> +enchanted castle—and so picture himself as the wily +scout leading his wondering companions to the shanty, +though, of course, he had not made up his mind to +reveal his secret to any one. He often wished he +could have the advantage of Rad's strong arms and +efficacious tools; but the workshop incident was only +one of many that taught him to leave his brother out +of all calculation.</p> +<p> +Mother Earth is the best guardian of a secret, and +Yan with his crude spade began by digging a hole in +the bank. The hard blue clay made the work slow, +but two holidays spent in steady labour resulted in a +hole seven feet wide and about four feet into the bank.</p> +<p> +In this he set about building the shanty. Logs +seven or eight feet long must be got to the place—at +least twenty-five or thirty would be needed, and +how to cut and handle them with his poor axe was +a question. Somehow, he never looked for a better +axe. The half-formed notion that the Indians had +no better was sufficient support, and he struggled +away bravely, using whatever ready sized material +he could find. Each piece as he brought it was put +into place. Some boys would have gathered the +logs first and built it all at once, but that was not +Yan's way; he was too eager to see the walls rise. +He had painfully and slowly gathered logs enough +to raise the walls three rounds, when the question of a +door occurred to him. This, of course, could not +be cut through the logs in the ordinary way; that +required the best of tools. So he lifted out all the +<span class="left"><a name="52">52</a></span> +front logs except the lowest, replacing them at the +ends with stones and blocks to sustain the sides. +This gave him the sudden gain of two logs, and +helped the rest of the walls that much. The shanty +was now about three feet high, and no two logs in it +were alike: some were much too long, most were +crooked and some were half rotten, for the simple +reason that these were the only ones he could cut. He +had exhausted the logs in the neighbourhood and +was forced to go farther. Now he remembered seeing +one that might do, half a mile away on the home +trail (they were always "trails"; he never called +them "roads" or "paths"). He went after this, and +to his great surprise and delight found that it was one +of a dozen old cedar posts that had been cut long +before and thrown aside as culls, or worthless. He +could carry only one at a time, so that to bring each +one meant a journey of a mile, and the post got woefully +heavy each time before that mile was over. +To get those twelve logs he had twelve miles to +walk. It took several Saturdays, but he stuck +doggedly to it. Twelve good logs completed his +shanty, making it five feet high and leaving three logs +over for rafters. These he laid flat across, dividing +the spaces equally. Over them he laid plenty of small +sticks and branches till it was thickly covered. Then +he went down to a rank, grassy meadow and, with +his knife, cut hay for a couple of hours. This was +spread thickly on the roof, to be covered with strips +of Elm bark then on top of all he threw the clay dug +<span class="left"><a name="53">53</a></span> +from the bank, piling it well back, stamping on it, and +working it down at the edges. Finally, he threw +rubbish and leaves over it, so that it was confused +with the general tangle.</p> +<p> +Thus the roof was finished, but the whole of the +front was open. He dreaded the search for more +logs, so tried a new plan. He found, first, some +sticks about six feet long and two or three inches +through. Not having an axe to sharpen and drive +them, he dug pairs of holes a foot deep, one at each +end and another pair near the middle of the front +ground log.</p> +<p> +Into each of these he put a pair of upright sticks, +leading up to the eave log, one inside and one outside +of it, then packed the earth around them in the holes. +Next, he went to the brook-side and cut a number +of long green willow switches about half an inch +thick at the butt. These switches he twisted around +the top of each pair of stakes in a figure 8, placing +them to hold the stake tight against the bottom and +top logs at the front.</p> +<p> +Down by the spring he now dug a hole and worked +water and clay together into mortar, then with a +trowel cut out of a shingle, and mortar carried in an +old bucket, he built a wall within the stakes, using +sticks laid along the outside and stones set in mud +till the front was closed up, except a small hole for +a window and a large hole for a door.</p> +<p> +Now he set about finishing the inside. He gathered +moss in the woods and stuffed all the chinks in the +<span class="left"><a name="54">54</a></span> +upper parts, and those next the ground he filled with +stones and earth. Thus the shanty was finished; +but it lacked a door.</p> +<img src="images/sketch022.gif" width="104" height="257" alt="Yan's Door" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +The opening was four feet high and two feet wide, +so in the woodshed at home he cut three boards, +each eight inches wide and four feet high, but he left +at each end of one a long point. Doing this at home +gave him the advantage of a saw. Then with these +and two shorter boards, each two feet long and six +inches wide, he sneaked out to Glenyan, and there, +with some nails and a stone for a hammer, he fastened +them together into a door. In the ground log he +pecked a hole big enough to receive one of the points +and made a corresponding hole in the under side of +the top log. Then, prying up the eave log, he put +the door in place, let the eave log down again, and +the door was hung. A string to it made an outside +fastening when it was twisted around a projecting +snag in the wall, and a peg thrust into a hole within +made an inside fastener. Some logs, with fir boughs +and dried grass, formed a bunk within. This left +only the window, and for lack of better cover he +fastened over it a piece of muslin brought from home. +But finding its dull white a jarring note, he gathered +a quart of butternuts, and watching his chance at +home, he boiled the cotton in water with the nuts +and so reduced it to a satisfactory yellowish brown.</p> +<p> +His final task was to remove all appearance of +disturbance and to fully hide the shanty in brush +and trailing vines. Thus, after weeks of labour, his +<span class="left"><a name="55">55</a></span> +woodland home was finished. It was only five feet +high inside, six feet long and six feet wide—dirty +and uncomfortable—but what a happiness it was to +have it.</p> +<p> +Here for the first time in his life he began to realize +something of the pleasure of single-handed achievement +in the line of a great ambition.</p> +<img src="images/sketch023.gif" width="314" height="205" align="right" hspace="10" alt="The Shanty: front-plan" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="56">56</a></span> +<h3><a name="1VIII">VIII</a></h3> + +<h3>Beginnings of Woodlore</h3> + +<p> +During this time Yan had so concentrated all his +powers on the shanty that he had scarcely noticed +the birds and wild things. Such was his temperament—one +idea only, and that with all his strength.</p> +<p> +His heart was more and more in his kingdom now +he longed to come and live here. But he only dared +to dream that some day he might be allowed to pass +a night in the shanty. This was where he would +lead his ideal life—the life of an Indian with all that +is bad and cruel left out. Here he would show men +how to live without cutting down all the trees, +spoiling all the streams, and killing every living +thing. He would learn how to get the fullest pleasure +out of the woods himself and then teach others how +to do the same. Though the birds and Fourfoots +fascinated him, he would not have hesitated to shoot +one had he been able, but to see a tree cut down +always caused him great distress. Possibly he +realized that the bird might be quickly replaced, +but the tree, never.</p> +<p> +To carry out his plan he must work hard at +school, for books had much that he needed. Perhaps +some day he might get a chance to see Audubon's +drawings, and so have all his bird worries settled by +<span class="left"><a name="57">57</a></span> +a single book.</p> +<p> +That summer a new boy at school added to Yan's +savage equipment. This boy was neither good nor +bright; he was a dunce, and had been expelled from +a boarding school for misconduct, but he had a +number of schoolboy accomplishments that gave +him a tinge of passing glory. He could tie a lot of +curious knots in a string. He could make a wonderful +birdy warble, and he spoke a language that he called +Tutnee. Yan was interested in all, but especially +the last. He teased and bribed till he was admitted +to the secret. It consisted in spelling every word, +leaving the five vowels as they are, but doubling each +consonant and putting a "u" between. Thus "b" +became "bub," "d" "dud," "m" "mum," and so +forth, except that "c" was "suk," "h" "hash," "x" +"zux," and "w" "wak."</p> +<p> +The sample given by the new boy, "sus-hash-u-tut +u-pup yak-o-u-rur mum-o-u-tut-hash," was said to be +a mode of enjoining silence.</p> +<p> +This language was "awful useful," the new boy +said, to keep the other fellows from knowing what you +were saying, which it certainly did. Yan practised +hard at it and within a few weeks was an adept. He +could handle the uncouth sentences better than his +teacher, and he was singularly successful in throwing +in accents and guttural tones that imparted a delightfully +savage flavour, and he rejoiced in jabbering +away to the new boy in the presence of others so +that he might bask in the mystified look on the +<span class="left"><a name="58">58</a></span> +faces of those who were not skilled in the tongue of +the Tutnees.</p> +<img src="images/sketch024.gif" width="75" height="123" alt="Bow and Arrow" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +He made himself a bow and arrows. They were +badly made and he could hit nothing with them, +but he felt so like an Indian when he drew the arrow +to its head, that it was another pleasure.</p> +<p> +He made a number of arrows with hoop-iron heads, +these he could file at home in the woodshed. The +heads were jagged and barbed and double-barbed. +These arrows were frightful-looking things. They +seemed positively devilish in their ferocity, and were +proportionately gratifying. These he called his +"war arrows," and would send one into a tree and +watch it shiver, then grunt "Ugh, heap good," and +rejoice in the squirming of the imaginary foe he had +pierced.</p> +<img src="images/sketch025.gif" width="194" height="35" alt="Arrow" border="0" /> +<p> +He found a piece of sheepskin and made of it +a pair of very poor moccasins. He ground an old +castaway putty knife into a scalping knife; the notch +in it for breaking glass was an annoying defect until +he remembered that some Indians decorate their +weapons with a notch for each enemy it has killed, +and this, therefore, might do duty as a kill-tally. +He made a sheath for the knife out of scraps of leather +left off the moccasins. Some water-colours, acquired +by a school swap, and a bit of broken mirror held in +a split stick, were necessary parts of his Indian toilet. +</p> +<span class="left"><a name="59">59</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus03a.jpg" width="640" height="499" alt="Yan's Toilet" border="0" /></p> +<p> +His face during the process of make-up was always +a battle-ground between the horriblest Indian scowl +and a grin of delight at his success in diabolizing his +<span class="left"><a name="61">61</a></span> +visage with the paints. Then with painted face and +a feather in his hair he would proudly range the woods +in his little kingdom and store up every scrap of +woodlore he could find, invent or learn from his +schoolmates.</p> +<p> +Odd things that he found in the woods he would +bring to his shanty: curled sticks, feathers, bones, +skulls, fungus, shells, an old cowhorn—things that +interested him, he did not know why. He made +Indian necklaces of the shells, strung together alternately +with the backbone of a fish. He let his hair +grow as long as possible, employing various stratagems, + +<img src="images/sketch026.gif" width="132" height="153" alt="Yan's Necklace" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +even the unpalatable one of combing it to avoid the +monthly trim of the maternal scissors. He lay for +hours with the sun beating on his face to correct his +colour to standard, and the only semblance of personal +vanity that he ever had was pleasure in hearing +disparaging remarks about the darkness of his complexion. +He tried to do everything as an Indian +would do it, striking Indian poses, walking carefully +with his toes turned in, breaking off twigs to mark a +place, guessing at the time by the sun, and grunting +"Ugh" or "Wagh" when anything surprised him. +Disparaging remarks about White-men, delivered in +supposed Indian dialect, were an important part of +his pastime. "Ugh, White-men heap no good" and +"Wagh, paleface—pale fool in woods," were among +his favourites.</p> +<p> +He was much influenced by phrases that caught +his ear. "The brown sinewy arm of the Indian," +<span class="left"><a name="62">62</a></span> +was one of them. It discovered to him that his +own arms were white as milk. There was, however, +a simple remedy. He rolled up his sleeves to the +shoulder and exposed them to the full glare of the +sun. Then later, under the spell of the familiar +phrase, "The warrior was naked to the waist," he +went a step further—he determined to be brown to +the waist—so discarded his shirt during the whole +of one holiday. He always went to extremes. +He remembered now that certain Indians put their +young warriors through an initiation called the +Sun-dance, so he danced naked round the fire +in the blazing sun and sat around naked all one +day.</p> +<p> +He noticed a general warmness before evening, +but it was at night that he really felt the punishment +of his indiscretion. He was in a burning heat. He +scarcely slept all night. Next day he was worse, +and his arm and shoulder were blistered. He bore +it bravely, fearing only that the Home Government +might find it out, in which case he would have fared +worse. He had read that the Indians grease the +skin for sunburn, so he went to the bathroom and +there used goose grease for lack of Buffalo fat. +This did give some relief, and in a few days he was +better and had the satisfaction of peeling the dead +skin from his shoulders and arms.</p> +<img src="images/sketch027a.gif" width="170" height="237" alt="Yan's Birch bark vessels" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +Yan made a number of vessels out of Birch +bark, stitching the edges with root fibers, filling the +bottom with a round wooden disc, and cementing +<span class="left"><a name="63">63</a></span> +the joints with pine gum so that they would hold +water.</p> +<p> +In the distant river he caught some Catfish and +brought them home—that, is, to his shanty. There +he made a fire and broiled them—very badly—but +he ate them as a great delicacy. The sharp bone in +each of their side fins he saved, bored a hole through +its thick end, smoothed it, and so had needles to stitch +his Birch bark. He kept them in a bark box with some +lumps of resin, along with some bark fiber, an Indian +flint arrow-head given him by a schoolmate, and the +claws of a large Owl, found in the garbage heap back +of the taxidermist's shop.</p> +<p> +One day on the ash heap in their own yard in town +he saw a new, strange bird. He was always seeing +new birds, but this was of unusual interest. He drew +its picture as it tamely fed near him. A dull, ashy +gray, with bronzy yellow spots on crown and rump, +and white bars on its wings. His "Birds of Canada" +gave no light; he searched through all the books he +could find, but found no clew to its name. It was +years afterward before he learned that this was the +young male Pine Grosbeak.</p> +<p> +Another day, under the bushes not far from his +shanty, he found a small Hawk lying dead. He +clutched it as a wonderful prize, spent an hour in +looking at its toes, its beak, its wings, its every +feather; then he set to work to make a drawing of it. +A very bad drawing it proved, although it was the +labour of days, and the bird was crawling with maggots +<span class="left"><a name="64">64</a></span> +before he had finished. But every feather and +every spot was faithfully copied, was duly set down +on paper. One of his friends said it was a Chicken-hawk. +That name stuck in Yan's memory. Thenceforth +the Chicken-hawk and its every marking were +familiar to him. Even in after years, when he had +learned that this must have been a young "Sharp-shin," +the name "Chicken-hawk" was always readier +on his lips.</p> +<p> +But he met with another and a different Hawk soon +afterward. This one was alive and flitting about in +the branches of a tree over his head. It was very +small—less than a foot in length. Its beak was very +short, its legs, wings and tail long; its head was +bluish and its back coppery red; on the tail was a +broad, black crossbar. As the bird flew about and +balanced on the boughs, it pumped its tail. This +told him it was a Hawk, and the colours he remembered +were those of the male Sparrow-hawk, for here +his bird book helped with its rude travesty of "Wilson's" +<img src="images/sketch028.gif" width="97" height="104" alt="bobolink" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +drawing of this bird. Yet two other birds he +saw close at hand and drew partly from memory. +The drawings were like this, and from the picture +on a calendar he learned that one was a Rail; +from a drawing in the bird book that the other was +a Bobolink. And these names he never forgot. He +had his doubts about the sketching at first—it +seemed an un-Indian thing to do, until he remembered +that the Indians painted pictures on their shields and +on their teepees. It was really the best of all ways +for him to make reliable observation. +<span class="left"><a name="65">65</a></span> +</p> + +<p> +<img src="images/sketch029.gif" width="104" height="108" align="left" hspace="10" alt="rail" border="0" /> +The bookseller of the town had some new books +in his window about this time. One, a marvellous +work called "Poisonous Plants," Yan was eager to +see. It was exposed in the window for a time. Two +of the large plates were visible from the street; one +was Henbane, the other Stramonium. Yan gazed at +them as often as he could. In a week they were gone; +but the names and looks were forever engraved on +his memory. Had he made bold to go in and ask +permission to see the work, his memory would have +<img src="images/sketch030.gif" alt="Poison Ivy" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="148" height="186" border="0" /> +seized most of it in an hour.</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="66">66</a></span> +<h3><a name="1IX">IX</a></h3> + +<h3>Tracks</h3> +<p> +In the wet sand down by the edge of the brook he +one day found some curious markings—evidently +tracks. Yan pored over them, then made a life-size +drawing of one. He shrewdly suspected it to be the +track of a Coon—nothing was too good or wild or +rare for his valley. As soon as he could, he showed +the track to the stableman whose dog was said to +have killed a Coon once, and hence the man must be +an authority on the subject.</p> +<p> +"Is that a Coon track?" asked Yan timidly.</p> +<p> +"How do I know?" said the man roughly, +and went on with his work. But a stranger standing +near, a curious person with shabby clothes, and a +new silk hat on the back of his head, said, "Let me +see it." Yan showed it.</p> +<img src="images/sketch031.gif" width="223" height="130" alt="Coon Track" border="0" /> +<p> +"Is it natural size?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, sir."</p> +<p> +"Yep, that's a Coon track, all right. You look at +all the big trees near about whar you saw that; then +when you find one with a hole in it, you look on the +bark and you will find some Coon hars. Then you +will know you've got a Coon tree."</p> +<span class="left"><a name="67">67</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus04a.jpg" width="525" height="719" alt="The Coon track" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Yan took the earliest chance. He sought and found +a great Basswood with some gray hairs caught in the +<span class="left"><a name="69">69</a></span> +bark. He took them home with him, not sure what +kind they were. He sought the stranger, but he was +gone, and no one knew him.</p> +<p> +How to identify the hairs was a question; but he +remembered a friend who had a Coon-skin carriage +robe. A few hairs of these were compared with +those from the tree and left no doubt that the climber +was a Coon. Thus Yan got the beginning of the idea +that the very hairs of each, as well as its tracks, are +different. He learned, also, how wise it is to draw +everything that he wished to observe or describe. +<img src="images/sketch032a.gif" width="120" height="210" alt="Indian cucumber" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +It was accident, or instinct on his part, but he had +fallen on a sound principle; there is nothing like a +sketch to collect and convey accurate information +of form—there is no better developer of true +observation.</p> +<p> +One day he noticed a common plant like an +umbrella. He dug it up by the root, and at the +lower end he found a long white bulb. He tasted +this. It was much like a cucumber. He looked up +"Gray's School Botany," and in the index saw the +name, Indian Cucumber. The description seemed +to tally, as far as he could follow its technical terms, +though like all such, without a drawing it was far +from satisfactory. So he added the Indian Cucumber +to his woodlore.</p> +<p> +On another occasion he chewed the leaves of a +strange plant because he had heard that that was +the first test applied by the Indians. He soon began +to have awful pains in his stomach. He hurried +<span class="left"><a name="70">70</a></span> +home in agony. His mother gave him mustard and +water till he vomited, then she boxed his ears. His +father came in during the process and ably supplemented +the punishment. He was then and there +ordered to abstain forever from the woods. Of +course, he did not. He merely became more cautious +about it all, and enjoyed his shanty with the added +zest of secret sin.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="71">71</a></span> +<h3><a name="1X">X</a></h3> + +<h3>Biddy's Contribution</h3> +<img src="images/sketch033.gif" width="125" height="178" alt="sassafras" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +An Irish-Canadian servant girl from Sanger now +became a member of their household. Her +grandmother was an herb-doctor in great repute. +She had frequently been denounced as a witch, +although in good standing as a Catholic. This girl had +picked up some herb-lore, and one day when all the +family were visiting the cemetery she darted into +various copses and produced plants which she named, +together with the complaint that her grandmother +used them for.</p> +<p> +"Sassafras, that makes tea for skin disease; +Ginseng, that's good to sell; Bloodroot for the blood +in springtime; Goldthread, that cures sore mouths; +Pipsissewa for chills and fever; White-man's Foot, +that springs up wherever a White-man treads; +Indian cup, that grows where an Indian dies; Dandelion +roots for coffee; Catnip tea for a cold; Lavender +tea for drinking at meals; Injun Tobacco to mix with +boughten tobacco; Hemlock bark to dye pink; +Goldthread to dye yellow, and Butternut rinds for +greenish."</p> +<p> +All of these were passing trifles to the others, but +to Yan they were the very breath of life, and he +<span class="left"><a name="72">72</a></span> +treasured up all of these things in his memory. +Biddy's information was not unmixed with error +and superstition:</p> +<p> +"Hold Daddy Longlegs by one leg and say, 'tell +me where the cows are,' and he will point just right +under another leg, and onct he told me where to +find my necklace when I lost it.</p> +<p> +"Shoot the Swallows and the cows give bloody +milk. That's the way old Sam White ruined his +milk business—shooting Swallows.</p> +<p> +"Lightning never strikes a barn where Swallows +nest. Paw never rested easy after the new barn +was built till the Swallows nested in it. He had it +insured for a hundred dollars till the Swallows got +round to look after it.</p> + +<p> +"When a Measuring-worm crawls on you, you are +going to get a new suit of clothes. My brother-in-law +says they walk over him every year in summer and +sure enough, he gets a new suit. But they never +does it in winter, cause he don't get new clothes +then.</p> +<img src="images/measuringwormd.gif" alt="Measuring Worm" style="float: left" width="300" height="159" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p> +"Split a Crow's tongue and he will talk like a girl. +Granny knowed a man that had a brother back of +Mara that got a young Crow and split his tongue an' +he told Granny it was <i>just</i> like a girl talking—an' +Granny told me!</p> +<p> +"Soak a Horse-hair in rainwater and it will turn +into a Snake. Ain't there lots uv Snakes around +ponds where Horses drink? Well!</p> +<p> +"Kill a Spider an' it will rain to-morrow. Now, +<span class="left"><a name="73">73</a></span> +that's worth knowin'. I mind one year when the +Orangeman's picnic was comin', 12th of July, Maw +made us catch twenty Spiders and we killed them +all the day before, and law, how it did rain on the +picnic! Mebbe we didn't laugh. Most of them +hed to go home in boats, that's what our paper said. +But next year they done the same thing on us for +St. Patrick's Day, but Spiders is scarce on the 16th +of March, an' it didn't rain so much as snow, so it +was about a stand-off.</p> +<p> +"Toads gives warts. You seen them McKenna +twins—their hands is a sight with warts. Well, I +seen them two boys playing with Toads like they +was marbles. So! An' they might a-knowed what +was comin'. Ain't every Toad just covered with +warts as thick as he can stick?</p> +<p> +"That there's Injun tobacco. The Injuns always +use it, and Granny does, too, sometimes." (Yan +made special note of this—he must get some and +smoke it, if it was <i>Indian</i>.)</p> +<p><img src="images/witchhazela.gif" alt="Witch-hazel" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="300" height="232" border="0" /> +"A Witch-hazel wand will bob over a hidden +spring and show where to dig. Denny Scully is +awful good at it. He gets a dollar for showing where +to sink a well, an' if they don't strike water it's +because they didn't dig where he said, or spiled the +charm some way or nuther, and hez to try over.</p> +<p> +"Now, that's Dandelion. Its roots makes awful +good coffee. Granny allers uses it. She says that +it is healthier than store coffee, but Maw says she +likes boughten things best, and the more they cost +the better she likes them. </p> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="74">74</a></span> +"Now, that's Ginseng. It has a terrible pretty +flower in spring. There's tons and tons of it sent +to China. Granny says the Chinese eats it, to +make them cheerful, but they don't seem to eat +enough.</p> +<img src="images/sketch034a.gif" width="140" height="105" alt="Loose Pig" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +"There's Slippery Elm. It's awfully good for +loosening up a cold, if you drink the juice the bark's +bin biled in. One spring Granny made a bucketful. +She set it outside to cool, an' the pig he drunk it all +up, an' he must a had a cold, for it loosened him up +so he dropped his back teeth. I seen them myself +lying out there in the yard. Yes, I did.</p> +<p> +"That's Wintergreen. Lots of boys I know chew +that to make the girls like them. Lots of them gits +a beau that way, too. I done it myself many's a time.</p> +<p> +"Now, that is what some folks calls Injun +Turnip, an' the children calls it Jack-in-a-Pulpit, +but Granny calls it 'Sorry-plant,' cos she says when +any one eats it it makes them feel sorry for the last +fool thing they done. I'll put some in your Paw's +coffee next time he licks yer and mebbe that'll make +him quit. It just makes me sick to see ye gettin' +licked fur every little thing ye can't help.</p> +<p> +"A Snake's tongue is its sting. You put your foot +on a Snake and see how he tries to sting you. An' +his tail don't die till sundown. I seen that myself, +onct, an' Granny says so, too, an' what Granny don't +know ain't knowledge—it's only book-larnin'."</p> +<p> +These were her superstitions, most of them more +or less obviously absurd to Yan; but she had also +a smattering of backwoods lore and Yan gleaned all +<span class="left"><a name="75">75</a></span> +he could.</p> + +<img src="images/sketch035b.gif" width="130" height="271" alt="Jack in a Pulpit" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +She had so much of what he wanted to know that +he had almost made up his mind to tell her where +he went each Saturday when he had finished his +work.</p> +<p> +A week or two longer and she would have shared +the great secret, but something took place to end +their comradeship.</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch036.gif" alt="Black Cherry" style="float: left" width="154" height="104" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="76">76</a></span> +<h3><a name="1XI">XI</a></h3> + +<h3>Lung Balm</h3> + +<p> +One day as this girl went with him through a +little grove on the edge of the town, she +stopped at a certain tree and said:</p> +<p> +"If that ain't Black-cherry!" + +"You mean Choke-cherry."</p> +<p> +"No, Black-cherry. Choke-cherry ain't no good; +but Black-cherry bark's awful good for lung complaint. +Grandma always keeps it. I've been feeling +a bit queer meself" [she was really as strong as an +ox]. "Guess I'll git some." So she and Yan planned +an expedition together. The boldness of it scared +the boy. The girl helped herself to a hatchet in the +tool box—the sacred tool box of his father.</p> +<p> +Yan's mother saw her with it and demanded why +she had it. With ready effrontery she said it was +to hammer in the hook that held the clothesline, and +proceeded to carry out the lie with a smiling face. +That gave Yan a new lesson and not a good one. +The hatchet was at once put back in the box, to be +stolen more carefully later on.</p> +<p> +Biddy announced that she was going to the grocery +shop. She met Yan around the corner and they made +for the lot. Utterly regardless of property rights, +she showed Yan how to chip off the bark of the +<span class="left"><a name="77">77</a></span> +Black-cherry. "Don't chip off all around; that's +bad luck—take it on'y from the sunny side." She +filled a basket with the pieces and they returned +home.</p> +<p> +Here she filled a jar with bits of the inner layer, +then, pouring water over it, let it stand for a week. +The water was then changed to a dark brown stuff +with a bitter taste and a sweet, aromatic smell.</p> +<p> +"It's terrible good," she said. "Granny always +keeps it handy. It cures lots of people. Now +there was Bud Ellis—the doctors just guv him up. +They said he didn't have a single lung left, and he +come around to Granny. He used to make fun of +Granny; but now he wuz plumb scairt. At first +Granny chased him away; then when she seen that +he was awful sick, she got sorry and told him how +to make Lung Balm. He was to make two gallons +each time and bring it to her. Then she took and +fixed it so it was one-half as much and give it +back to him. Well, in six months if he wasn't all +right."</p> +<p> +Biddy now complained nightly of "feelin's" in her +chest. These feelings could be controlled only by +a glass or two of Lung Balm. Her condition must +have been critical, for one night after several necessary +doses of Balm her head seemed affected. She +became abusive to the lady of the house and at the +end of the month a less interesting help was in her +<span class="left"><a name="78">78</a></span> +place.</p> +<img src="images/sketch039.gif" width="120" height="89" alt="Sugar Maple" border="0" /> +<img src="images/sketch040.gif" width="156" height="78" alt="Soft, or Silver Maple" border="0" /> + +<p> +There were many lessons good and bad that Yan +might have drawn from this; but the only one that +he took in was that the Black-cherry bark is a wonderful +remedy. The family doctor said that it really +was so, and Yan treasured up this as a new and +precious fragment of woodcraft.</p> +<img src="images/sketch037.gif" width="124" height="249" alt="Mountain Maple" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +Having once identified the tree, he was surprised +to see that it was rather common, and was delighted +to find it flourishing in his own Glenyan.</p> +<p> +This made him set down on paper all the trees he +knew, and he was surprised to find how few they were +and how uncertain he was about them.</p> + +<p class="indent2"> +Maple—hard and soft.<br /> +Beach.<br /> +Elm—swamp and slippery.<br /> +Ironwood.<br /> +Birch—white and black.<br /> +Ash—white and black.<br /> +Pine.<br /> +Cedar.<br /> +Balsam.<br /> +Hemlock and Cherry.<br /> +</p> +<img src="images/sketch038.gif" width="102" height="153" alt="Red Maple" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +He had heard that the Indians knew the name +and properties of every tree and plant in the woods, +and that was what he wished to be able to say of +himself.</p> +<img src="images/sketch041.gif" width="150" height="196" alt="Striped Maple" border="0" /> +<img src="images/sketch042.gif" width="249" height="95" alt="Ash...or Grey Beech" border="0" /> + +<img src="images/sketch044.gif" width="96" height="165" alt="White Elm" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<p> +One day by the bank of the river he noticed a pile +of empty shells of the fresh-water Mussel, or Clam. +The shells were common enough, but why all +<span class="left"><a name="79">79</a></span> +together and marked in the same way? Around +the pile on the mud were curious tracks and +marks. There were so many that it was hard to +find a perfect one, but when he did, remembering +the Coon track, he drew a picture of it. It was +too small to be the mark of his old acquaintance. +He did not find any one to tell him what it was, +but one day he saw a round, brown animal hunched +up on the bank eating a clam. It dived into the +water at his approach, but it reappeared swimming +farther on. Then, when it dived again, Yan saw +by its long thin tail that it was a Muskrat, like +the stuffed one he had seen in the taxidermist's +window.</p> +<img src="images/sketch045.gif" width="98" height="308" alt="Crow track" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +He soon learned that the more he studied those +tracks the more different kinds he found. Many +were rather mysterious, so he could only draw them +and put them aside, hoping some day for light. One +of the strangest and most puzzling turned out +to be the trail of a Snapper, and another proved +to be merely the track of a Common Crow that came +to the water's edge to drink.</p> +<p> +The curios that he gathered and stored in his +shanty increased in number and in interest. The +place became more and more part of himself. Its +concealment bettered as the foliage grew around it +again, and he gloried in its wild seclusion and mystery, +and wandered through the woods with his bow and +arrows, aiming harmless, deadly blows at snickering +Red-squirrels—though doubtless he would have been +<span class="left"><a name="80">80</a></span> +as sorry as they had he really hit one.</p> +<p class="indent"> +<img src="images/sketch043.gif" width="272" height="142" alt="White Ash" border="0" /></p> +<img src="images/sketch046.gif" width="94" height="348" alt="Track of Snapper" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +Yan soon found out that he was not the only +resident of the shanty. One day as he sat inside +wondering why he had not made a fireplace, so that +he could sit at an indoor fire, he saw a silent little +creature flit along between two logs in the back +wall. He remained still. A beautiful little Woodmouse, +for such it was, soon came out in plain view +and sat up to look at Yan and wash its face. Yan +reached out for his bow and arrow, but the Mouse +was gone in a flash. He fitted a blunt arrow to the +string, then waited, and when the Mouse returned +he shot the arrow. It missed the Mouse, struck the +log and bounded back into Yan's face, giving him a +stinging blow on the cheek. And as Yan rolled +around grunting and rubbing his cheek, he thought, +"This is what I tried to do to the Woodmouse." +Thenceforth, Yan made no attempt to harm the +Mouse; indeed, he was willing to share his meals with +it. In time they became well acquainted, and Yan +found that not one, but a whole family, were sharing +with him his shanty in the woods.</p> +<p> +Biddy's remark about the Indian tobacco bore fruit. +Yan was not a smoker, but now he felt he must +learn. He gathered a lot of this tobacco, put it to +dry, and set about making a pipe—a real Indian peace +pipe. He had no red sandstone to make it of, but +a soft red brick did very well. He first roughed out +the general shape with his knife, and was trying to bore +the bowl out with the same tool, when he remembered +<span class="left"><a name="81">81</a></span> +that in one of the school-readers was an account +of the Indian method of drilling into stone with a +bow-drill and wet sand. One of his schoolmates, +the son of a woodworker, had seen his father use a +bow-drill. This knowledge gave him new importance +in Yan's eyes. Under his guidance a bow-drill was +made, and used much and on many things till it was +understood, and now it did real Indian service by +drilling the bowl and stem holes of the pipe.</p> +<p> +He made a stem of an Elderberry shoot, punching +out the pith at home with a long knitting-needle. +Some white pigeon wing feathers trimmed small, +and each tipped with a bit of pitch, were strung +on a stout thread and fastened to the stem for a +finishing touch; and he would sit by his camp fire +solemnly smoking—a few draws only, for he did not +like it—then say, "Ugh, heap hungry," knock the +ashes out, and proceed with whatever work he had +on hand.</p> +<p> +Thus he spent the bright Saturdays, hiding his +accouterments each day in his shanty, washing the +paint from his face in the brook, and replacing the +hated paper collar that the pride and poverty of his +family made a daily necessity, before returning +home. He was a little dreamer, but oh! what happy +dreams. Whatever childish sorrow he found at +home he knew he could always come out here and +forget and be happy as a king—be a real King in a +Kingdom wholly after his heart, and all his very own.</p> +<img src="images/sketch047.gif" alt="Yan's Pipe" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="230" height="91" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<img src="images/caricaturea.gif" alt="The Caricature" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="600" height="284" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="82">82</a></span> +<h3><a name="1XII">XII</a></h3> + +<h3>A Crisis</h3> +<p> +At school he was a model boy except in one +respect—he had strange, uncertain outbreaks +of disrespect for his teachers. One day he +amused himself by covering the blackboard with +ridiculous caricatures of the principal, whose favourite +he undoubtedly was. They were rather clever and +proportionately galling. The principal set about an +elaborate plan to discover who had done them. He +assembled the whole school and began cross-examining +one wretched dunce, thinking him the culprit. The +lad denied it in a confused and guilty way; the principal +was convinced of his guilt, and reached for his +rawhide, while the condemned set up a howl. To +the surprise of the assembly, Yan now spoke up, +and in a tone of weary impatience said:</p> +<p> +"Oh, let him alone. I did it."</p> +<p> +His manner and the circumstances were such that +every one laughed. The principal was nettled to +fury. He forgot his manhood; he seized Yan by the +collar. He was considered a timid boy; his face was +white; his lips set. The principal beat him with the +rawhide till the school cried "Shame," but he got no +cry from Yan.</p> +<p> +That night, on undressing for bed, his brother Rad +<span class="left"><a name="83">83</a></span> +saw the long black wales from head to foot, and an +explanation was necessary. He was incapable of +lying; his parents learned of his wickedness, and new +and harsh punishments were added. Next day was +Saturday. He cut his usual double or Saturday's +share of wood for the house, and, bruised and smarting, +set out for the one happy spot he knew. The +shadow lifted from his spirit as he drew near. He +was already forming a plan for adding a fireplace and +chimney to his house. He followed the secret path +he had made with aim to magnify its secrets. He +crossed the open glade, was, nearly at the shanty, +when he heard voices—loud, coarse voices—<i>coming +from his shanty</i>. He crawled up close. The door +was open. There in his dear cabin were three tramps +playing cards and drinking out of a bottle. On the +ground beside them were his shell necklaces broken +up to furnish poker chips. In a smouldering fire +outside were the remains of his bow and arrows.</p> +<p> +Poor Yan! His determination to be like an +Indian under torture had sustained him in the +teacher's cruel beating and in his home punishments, +but this was too much. He fled to a far and quiet +corner and there flung himself down and sobbed in +grief and rage—he would have killed them if he +could. After an hour or two he came trembling +back to see the tramps finish their game and their +liquor; then they defiled the shanty and left it in +ruins.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="84">84</a></span> +The brightest thing in his life was gone—a King +discrowned, dethroned. Feeling now every wale on +his back and legs, he sullenly went home.</p> +<p> +This was late in the summer. Autumn followed +last, with shortening days and chilly winds. Yan +had no chance to see his glen, even had he greatly +wished it. He became more studious; books were his +pleasure now. He worked harder than ever, winning +honour at school, but attracting no notice at the +home, where piety reigned.</p> +<p> +The teachers and some of the boys remarked that +Yan was getting very thin and pale. Never very +robust, he now looked like an invalid; but at home +no note was taken of the change. His mother's +thoughts were all concentrated on his scapegrace +younger brother. For two years she had rarely spoken +to Yan peaceably. There was a hungry place in his +heart as he left the house unnoticed each morning +and saw his graceless brother kissed and darlinged. +At school their positions were reversed. Yan was +the principal's pride. He had drawn no more +caricatures, and the teacher flattered himself that +that beating was what had saved the pale-faced +head boy.</p> +<p> +He grew thinner and heart-hungrier till near +Christmas, when the breakdown came.</p> + + <hr class="medium" /> +<p> +"He is far gone in consumption," said the physician. +"He cannot live over a month or two"</p> + +<span class="left"><a name="85">85</a></span><br /><br /> + +[Illustration: "There in his dear cabin were three tramps"] + +<span class="left"><a name="86">86</a></span><br /><br /> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="87">87</a></span> +"He <i>must</i> live," sobbed the conscience-stricken +mother. "He must live—0 God, he must live."</p> +<p> +All that suddenly awakened mother's love could +do was done. The skilful physician did his best, +but it was the mother that saved him. She watched +over him night and day; she studied his wishes and +comfort in every way. She prayed by his bedside, +and often asked God to forgive her for her long +neglect. It was Yan's first taste of mother-love. +Why she had ignored him so long was unknown. +She was simply erratic, but now she awoke to his +brilliant gifts, his steady, earnest life, already purposeful.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="88">88</a></span> +<h3><a name="1XIII">XIII</a></h3> + +<h3>The Lynx</h3> +<p> +As winter waned, Yan's strength returned. He +was wise enough to use his new ascendency +to get books. The public librarian, a man +of broad culture who had fought his own fight, +became interested in him, and helped him to many +works that otherwise he would have missed.</p> +<p> +"Wilson's Ornithology" and "Schoolcraft's +Indians" were the most important. And they were +sparkling streams in the thirst-parched land.</p> +<p> +In March he was fast recovering. He could now +take long walks; and one bright day of snow he set +off with his brother's Dog. His steps bent hillward. +The air was bright and bracing, he stepped with +unexpected vigour, and he made for far Glenyan, +without at first meaning to go there. But, drawn +by the ancient attraction, he kept on. The secret +path looked not so secret, now the leaves were off; +but the Glen looked dearly familiar as he reached the +wider stretch.</p> +<p> +His eye fell on a large, peculiar track quite fresh +in the snow. It was five inches across, big enough +for a Bear track, but there were no signs of claws +or toe pads. The steps were short and the tracks +had not sunken as they would for an animal as +<span class="left"><a name="89">89</a></span> +heavy as a Bear.</p> +<img src="images/sketch049.gif" width="56" height="419" alt="Lynx prints" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +As one end of each showed the indications of toes, +he could see what way it went, and followed up the +Glen. The dog sniffed at it uneasily, but showed +no disposition to go ahead. Yan tramped up past +the ruins of his shanty, now painfully visible since +the leaves had fallen, and his heart ached at the +sight. The trail led up the valley, and crossed the +brook on a log, and Yan became convinced that he +was on the track of a large Lynx. Though a splendid +barker, Grip, the dog, was known to be a coward, +and now he slunk behind the boy, sniffing at the +great track and absolutely refusing to go ahead.</p> +<p> +Yan was fascinated by the long rows of footprints, +and when he came to a place where the creature +had leaped ten or twelve feet without visible cause, +he felt satisfied that he had found a Lynx, and the +love of adventure prompted him to go on, although +he had not even a stick in his hand or a knife in his +pocket. He picked up the best club he could find—a +dry branch two feet long and two inches through, +and followed. The dog was now unwilling to go +at all; he hung back, and had to be called at each +hundred yards.</p> +<p> +They were at last in the dense Hemlock woods at +the upper end of the valley, when a peculiar sound like +the call of a deep-voiced cat was heard.</p> +<p> +<i>Yow! Yow! Yowl!</i></p> +<p> +Yan stood still. The dog, although a large and +powerful retriever, whimpered, trembled and crawled +<span class="left"><a name="90">90</a></span> +up close.</p> +<p> +The sound increased in volume. The yowling +<i>meouw</i> came louder, louder and nearer, then suddenly +clear and close, as though the creature had rounded +a point and entered an opening. It was positively +blood-curdling now. The dog could stand it no more; +he turned and went as fast as he could for home, +leaving Yan to his fate. There was no longer any +question that it was a Lynx. Yan had felt nervous +before and the abject flight of the dog reacted on +him. He realized how defenseless he was, still weak +from his illness, and he turned and went after the +dog. At first he walked. But having given in to +his fears, they increased; and as the yowling continued +he finally ran his fastest. The sounds were left +behind, but Yan never stopped until he had left the +Glen and was once more in the open valley of the +river. Here he found the valiant retriever trembling +all over. Yan received him with a contemptuous +kick, and, boylike, as soon as he could find some +stones, he used them till Grip was driven home.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="91">91</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus05a.jpg" width="540" height="786" alt="It surely was a Lynx." border="0" /></p> +<hr class="medium" /> +<p> +Most lads have some sporting instinct, and his +elder brother, though not of Yan's tastes, was not +averse to going gunning when there was a prospect +of sport.</p> +<p> +Yan decided to reveal to Rad the secret of his +glen. He had never been allowed to use a gun, +but Rad had one, and Yan's vivid account of his +adventure had the desired effect. His method was +<span class="left"><a name="93">93</a></span> +characteristic.</p> +<p> +"Rad, would you go huntin' if there was lots to +hunt?"</p> +<p> +"Course I would."</p> +<p> +"Well, I know a place not ten miles away where +there are all kinds of wild animals—hundreds of +them."</p> +<p> +"Yes, you do, I don't think. Humph!"</p> +<p> +"Yes, I do; and I'll tell you, if you will promise +never to tell a soul."</p> +<p> +"Ba-ah!"</p> +<p> +"Well, I just had an adventure with a Lynx up +there now, and if you will come with your gun we +can get him."</p> +<p> +Then Yan related all that had passed, and it lost +nothing in his telling. His brother was impressed +enough to set out under Yan's guidance on the +following Saturday.</p> +<p> +Yan hated to reveal to his sneering, earthy-minded +brother all the joys and sorrows he had found in +the Glen, but now that it seemed compulsory he found +keen pleasure in playing the part of the crafty guide. +With unnecessary caution he first led in a wrong +direction, then trying, but failing, to extort another +promise of secrecy, he turned at an angle, pointed +to a distant tree, saying with all the meaning he could +put into it: "Ten paces beyond that tree is a trail +that shall lead us into the secret valley." After +sundry other ceremonies of the sort, they were near +the inway, when a man came walking through the +<span class="left"><a name="94">94</a></span> +bushes. On his shoulders he carried something. +When he came close, Yan saw to his deep disgust +that that something was the Lynx—yes, it surely +was <i>his</i> Lynx.</p> +<p> +They eagerly plied the man with questions. He +told them that he had killed it the day before, really. +It had been prowling for the last week or more about +Kernore's bush; probably it was a straggler from up +north.</p> +<p> +This was all intensely fascinating to Yan, but in it +was a jarring note. Evidently this man considered +the Glen—his Glen—as an ordinary, well-known bit +of bush, possibly part of his farm—not by any means +the profound mystery that Yan would have had it.</p> +<p> +The Lynx was a fine large one. The stripes on its +face and the wide open yellow eyes gave a peculiarly +wild, tiger-like expression that was deeply gratifying +to Yan's romantic soul.</p> +<p> +It was not so much of an adventure as a might-have-been +adventure; but it left a deep impress on +the boy, and it also illustrated the accuracy of his +instincts in identifying creatures that he had never +before seen, but knew only through the slight descriptions +of very unsatisfactory books.</p> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch050.gif" width="143" height="168" alt="The lynx" border="0" /></p> + +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="95">95</a></span> +<h3><a name="1XIV">XIV</a></h3> + +<h3>Froth</h3> +<p> +From now on to the spring Yan was daily gaining +in strength, and he and his mother came closer +together. She tried to take an interest in the +pursuits that were his whole nature. But she also +strove hard to make him take an interest in her +world. She was a morbidly religious woman. Her +conversation was bristling with Scripture texts. +She had a vast store of them—indeed, she had them +all; and she used them on every occasion possible and +impossible, with bewildering efficiency.</p> +<p> +If ever she saw a group of young people dancing, +romping, playing any game, or even laughing heartily, +she would interrupt them to say, "Children, are you +sure you can ask God's blessing on all this? Do you +think that beings with immortal souls to save should +give rein to such frivolity! I fear you are sinning, +and be sure your sin will find you out. Remember, +that for every idle word and deed we must give an +account to the Great Judge of Heaven and earth."</p> +<p> +She was perfectly sincere in all this, but she never +ceased, except during the time of her son's illness, +when, under orders from the doctor, she avoided the +painful topic of eternal happiness and tried to simulate +an interest in his pursuits. This was the blessed +<span class="left"><a name="96">96</a></span> +truce that brought them together.</p> +<p> +He found a confidante for the first time since he +met the collarless stranger, and used to tell all his +loves and fears among the woodfolk and things. +He would talk about this or that bird or flower, and +hoped to find out its name, till the mother would +suddenly feel shocked that any being with an immortal +soul to save could talk so seriously about anything +outside of the Bible; then gently reprove her son and +herself, too, with a number of texts.</p> +<p> +He might reply with others, for he was well +equipped. But her unanswerable answer would be: +"There is but one thing needful. What profiteth it a +man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"</p> +<p> +These fencing bouts grew more frequent as Yan +grew stronger and the doctor's inhibition was removed.</p> +<p> +After one of unusual warmth, Yan realized with a +chill that all her interest in his pursuits had been +an affected one. He was silent a long time, then +said: "Mother! you like to talk about your Bible. +It tells you the things that you long to know, that +you love to learn. You would be unhappy if you +went a day without reading a chapter or two. That +is your nature; God made you so.</p> +<p> +"I have been obliged to read the Bible all my +life. Every day I read a chapter; but I do not +love it. I read it because I am forced to do it. +It tells me nothing I want to know. It does not +teach me to love God, which you say is the one thing +<span class="left"><a name="97">97</a></span> +needful. But I go out into the woods, and every +bird and flower I see stirs me to the heart with something, +I do not know what it is; only I love them: +I love them with all my strength, and they make me +feel like praying when your Bible does not. They +are my Bible. This is my nature. God made me +so."</p> +<p> +The mother was silent after this, but Yan could +<img src="images/sketch051.gif" width="131" height="136" alt="The Shore Lark" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +see that she was praying for him as for a lost soul.</p> +<p> +A few days later they were out walking in the early +spring morning. A Shore-lark on a clod whistled +prettily as it felt the growing sunshine.</p> +<p> +Yan strained his eyes and attention to take it in. +He crept up near it. It took wing, and as it went +he threw after it a short stick he was carrying. The +stick whirled over and struck the bird. It fell +fluttering. Yan rushed wildly after it and caught +it in spite of his mother's calling him back.</p> +<p> +He came with the bird in his hand, but it did not +live many minutes. His mother was grieved and +disgusted. She said. "So this is the great love +you have for the wild things; the very first spring +bird to sing you must club to death. I do not +understand your affections. Are not two sparrows +sold for one farthing, and yet not one of them falls +to the ground without the knowledge of your +heavenly Father."</p> +<p> +Yan was crushed. He held the dead bird in his +hand and said, contradictorily, as the tears stood +in his eyes, "I wish I hadn't; but oh, it was so +<span class="left"><a name="98">98</a></span> +beautiful."</p> +<p> +He could not explain, because he did not understand, +and yet was no hypocrite.</p> +<p> +Weeks later a cheap trip gave him the chance for +the first time in his life to see Niagara. As he stood +with his mother watching the racing flood, in the +gorge below the cataract, he noticed straws, bubbles +and froth, that seemed to be actually moving upstream. +He said:</p> +<p> +"Mother, you see the froth how it seems to go +up-stream."</p> +<p> +"Well!"</p> +<p> +"Yet we know it is a trifle and means nothing. +We know that just below the froth is the deep, +wide, terrible, irresistible, arrowy flood, surging all +the other way."</p> +<p> +"Yes, my son."</p> +<p> +"Well, Mother, when I killed the Shore-lark, that +was froth going the wrong way, I did love the +little bird. I know now why I killed it. Because +it was going away from me. If I could have seen it +near and could have touched it, or even have heard +it every day, I should never have wished to harm +it. I didn't mean <i>to kill it</i>, only <i>to get it</i>. You +gather flowers because you love to keep them near +you, not because you want to destroy them. They +die and you are sorry. I only tried to gather the +Shore-lark as you would a flower. It died, and I +was very, very sorry."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="99">99</a></span> +"Nevertheless," the mother replied, "the merciful +man is merciful unto his beast. He who hearkens +when the young Ravens cry, surely took note of it, +and in His great Book of Remembrance it is written +down against you."</p> +<p> +And from that time they surely drifted apart.</p> +<p class="indent"> +<img src="images/sketch052.gif" width="245" height="277" alt="Parting of the Ways" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="101">101</a></span> +<h3>PART <a name="II">II</a></h3> + +<h3>SANGER <img src="images/and2.gif" width="24" height="17" alt="two acorns on a stem" border="0" /> SAM</h3> + +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="103">103</a></span> +<h3><a name="2I">I</a></h3> + +<h3>The New Home</h3> + +<p> +<img src="images/sketch053.gif" align="left" hspace="10" width="100" height="107" alt="Y" border="0" /> +AN was now fourteen years old +long-legged, thin, and growing fast +The doctor marked this combination +and said: "Send him on a +farm for a year."</p> +<p> +Thus it was that an arrangement +was made for Yan to work +for his board at the farmhouse of +William Raften of Sanger.</p> +<p> +Sanger was a settlement just emerging from the +early or backwoods period.</p> +<p> +The recognized steps are, first, the frontier or +woods where all is unbroken forest and Deer abound; +next the backwoods where small clearings appear; +then a settlement where the forest and clearings +are about equal and the Deer gone; last, an agricultural +district, with mere shreds of forest remaining.</p> +<p> +Thirty years before, Sanger had been "taken up" +by a population chiefly from Ireland, sturdy peasantry +for the most part, who brought with them the ancient +feud that has so long divided Ireland—the bitter +quarrel between the Catholics or "Dogans" (why +so called none knew) and Protestants, more usually +styled "Prattisons." The colours of the Catholics +were green and white; of the Protestants orange and +blue; and hence another distinctive name of the +<span class="left"><a name="104">104</a></span> +latter was "Orangemen."</p> +<img src="images/sketch054b.gif" width="121" height="243" alt="the split in the social structure" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +These two factions split the social structure in +two vertically. There were, in addition, several +horizontal lines of cleavage which, like geological +seams, ran across both segments.</p> +<p> +In those days, the early part of the nineteenth +century, the British Government used to assist +desirable persons who wished to emigrate to Canada +from Ireland. This aid consisted of a free ocean +passage. Many who could not convince the Government +of their desirability and yet could raise the +money, came with them, paying their regular steerage +rate of $15. These were alike to the outside world, +but not to themselves. Those who paid their way +were "passengers," and were, in their own opinion, +many social worlds above the assisted ones, who +were called "Emmy Grants." This distinction was +never forgotten among the residents of Sanger. +<img src="images/sketch055.gif" alt="Pig-pen style" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="143" height="77" border="0" /> +</p> +<p><br /> +Yet two other social grades existed. Every +man and boy in Sanger was an expert with +the axe; was wonderfully adroit. The familiar +phrase, "He's a good man," had two accepted +meanings: If obviously applied to a settler during +the regular Saturday night Irish row in the little +town of Downey's Dump, it meant he was an able +man with his fists; but if to his home life on the farm, +it implied that he was unusually dexterous with the +axe. A man who fell below standard was despised. +Since the houses of hewn logs were made by their +owners, they reflected the axemen's skill. There +<span class="left"><a name="105">105</a></span> +were two styles of log architecture; the shanty with +corners criss-cross, called hog-pen finish, and the +other, the house with the corners neatly finished, called +<img src="images/sketch056.gif" alt="Dove-tail style" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="118" height="62" border="0" /> +dovetail finish. In Sanger it was a social black eye to +live in a house of the first kind. The residents were +considered "scrubs" or "riff-raff" by those whose +superior axemanship had provided the more neatly +finished dwelling. A later division crept in among +the "dovetailers" themselves when a brickyard +was opened. The more prosperous settlers put +up neat little brick houses. To the surprise of +all, one Phil O'Leary, a poor but prolific Dogan, +leaped at once from a hog-pen log to a fine brick, +and caused no end of perplexity to the ruling society +queens, simply paralyzing the social register, since +his nine fat daughters now had claims with the best. +Many, however, whose brick houses were but five +years old, denounced the O'Learys as upstarts and +for long witheld all social recognition. William +Raften, as the most prosperous man in the community, +was first to appear in red bricks. His implacable +enemy, Char-less (two syllables) Boyle, egged on by +his wife, now also took the red brick plunge, though +he dispensed with masons and laid the bricks himself, +with the help of his seventeen sons. These two men, +though Orangemen both, were deadly enemies, as +the wives were social rivals. Raften was the stronger +and richer man, but Boyle, whose father had paid +his own steerage rate, knew all about Raften's +father, and always wound up any discussion by +<span class="left"><a name="106">106</a></span> +hurling in Raften's teeth: "Don't talk to me, ye +<img src="images/sketch057.gif" width="137" height="220" alt="local entertainment" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +upstart. Everybody knows ye are nothing but a +Emmy Grant." This was the one fly in the Raften +ointment. No use denying it. His father had accepted +a free passage, true, and Boyle had received a +free homestead, but what of that—that counted +for nothing. Old Boyle had been a "PASSENGER," +old Raften an "EMMY GRANT." </p> +<p> +This was the new community that Yan had entered, +and the words Dogan and Prattison, "green" and +"orange and blue," began to loom large, along with +the ideas and animosities they stood for.</p> +<p> +The accent of the Sangerite was mixed. First, +there was a rich Irish brogue with many Irish words; +this belonged chiefly to the old folks. The Irish of +such men as Raften was quite evident in their speech, +but not strong enough to warrant the accepted Irish +spelling of books, except when the speaker was +greatly excited. The young generation had almost +no Irish accent, but all had sifted down to the +peculiar burring nasal whine of the backwoods +Canadian.</p> +<p> +Mr. and Mrs. Raften met Yan at the station. They +had supper together at the tavern and drove him +to their home, where they showed him into the big +dining-room—living-room—kitchen. Over behind +the stove was a tall, awkward boy with carroty hair +and small, dark eyes set much aslant in the saddest +of faces. Mrs. Raften said, "Come, Sam, and shake +hands with Yan." Sam came sheepishly forward, +<span class="left"><a name="107">107</a></span> +shook hands in a flabby way, and said, in drawling +tones, "How-do," then retired behind the stove to +gaze with melancholy soberness at Yan, whenever he +could do so without being caught at it. Mr. and Mrs. +Raften were attending to various matters elsewhere, +and Yan was left alone and miserable. The idea +of giving up college to go on a farm had been a hard +one for him to accept, but he had sullenly bowed to +his father's command and then at length learned to +like the prospect of getting away from Bonnerton +into the country. After all, it was but for a year, and +it promised so much of joy. Sunday-school left +behind. Church reduced to a minimum. All his +life outdoors, among fields and woods—surely this +spelled happiness; but now that he was really there, +the abomination of desolation seemed sitting on all +things and the evening was one of unalloyed +misery. He had nothing to tell of, but a cloud of +black despair seemed to have settled for good on the +world. His mouth was pinching very hard and his +eyes blinking to keep back the tears when Mrs. Raften +came into the room. She saw at a glance what was +wrong. "He's homesick," she said to her husband. +"He'll be all right to-morrow," and she took Yan +by the hand and led him upstairs to bed.</p> +<p> +Twenty minutes later she came to see if he was +comfortable. She tucked the clothes in around +him, then, stooping down for a good-night kiss, she +found his face wet with tears. She put her arms +about him for a moment, kissed him several times, +<span class="left"><a name="108">108</a></span> +and said, "Never mind, you will feel all right +to-morrow," then wisely left him alone.</p> +<p> +Whence came that load of misery and horror, or +whither it went, Yan never knew. He saw it no +more, and the next morning he began to interest +himself in his new world.</p> +<p> +William Raften had a number of farms all in fine +order and clear of mortgages; and each year he added +to his estates. He was sober, shrewd, even cunning, +hated by most of his neighbours because he was too +clever for them and kept on getting richer. His +hard side was for the world and his soft side for his +family. Not that he was really soft in any respect. +He had had to fight his life-battle alone, beginning +with nothing, and the many hard knocks had hardened +him, but the few who knew him best could testify to +the warm Irish heart that continued unchanged +within him, albeit it was each year farther from +the surface. His manners, even in the house, were +abrupt and masterful. There was no mistaking +his orders, and no excuse for not complying with +them. To his children when infants, and to his +wife only, he was always tender, and those who saw +him cold and grasping, overreaching the sharpers +of the grain market, would scarcely have recognized +the big, warm-hearted happy-looking father at home +<img src="images/sketch058.gif" width="194" height="336" alt="lion 'horsey'" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" style="float: left;" /> +an hour later when he was playing horse with his +baby daughter or awkwardly paying post-graduate +court to his smiling wife. +</p> +<p> <span class="left"><a name="109">109</a></span> +He had little "eddication," could hardly read, and +was therefore greatly impressed with the value of +"book larnin'," and determined that his own children +should have the "best that money could git in that +line," which probably meant that they should read +fluently. His own reading was done on Sunday +mornings, when he painfully spelled out the important +items in a weekly paper; "important" meant referring +to the produce market or the prize ring, for he had +been known and respected as a boxer, and dearly +loved the exquisite details of the latest bouts. He +used to go to church with his wife once a month +to please her, and thought it very unfair therefore +that she should take no interest in his favourite +hobby—the manly art.</p> +<p> +Although hard and even brutal in his dealings +with men, he could not bear to see an animal ill used. +"The men can holler when they're hurt, but the poor +dumb baste has no protection." He was the only +farmer in the country that would not sell or shoot a +worn-out horse. "The poor brute has wurruked hard +an' hez airned his kape for the rest av his days." So +Duncan, Jerry and several others were "retired" and +lived their latter days in idleness, in one case for more +than ten years.</p> +<p> +Raften had thrashed more than one neighbour for +beating a horse, and once, on interfering, was himself +thrashed, for he had the ill-luck to happen on a prizefighter. +But that had no lasting effect on him. He +continued to champion the dumb brute in his own +brutal way.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="110">110</a></span> +Among the neighbours the perquisites of the boys +were the calfskins. The cows' milk was needed and +the calves of little value, so usually they were killed +when too young for food. The boys did the killing, +making more or less sport of it, and the skins, worth +fifty cents apiece green and twenty-five cents dry, +at the tannery, were their proper pay. Raften never +allowed his son to kill the calves. "Oi can't kill a +poor innocent calf mesilf an' I won't hev me boy +doin' it," he said. Thus Sam was done out of a +perquisite, and did not forget the grievance.</p> +<p> +Mrs. Raften was a fine woman, a splendid manager, +loving her home and her family, her husband's loyal +and ablest supporter, although she thought that +William was sometimes a "leetle hard" on the boys. +They had had a large family, but most of the +children had died. Those remaining were Sam, aged +fifteen, and Minnie, aged three.</p> +<p> +Yan's duties were fixed at once. The poultry +and half the pigs and cows were to be his charge. +He must also help Sam with various other chores.</p> +<p> +There was plenty to do and clear rules about doing +it. But there was also time nearly every day for +other things more in the line of his tastes; for even +if he were hard on the boys in work hours, Raften +saw to it that when they did play they should have +a good time. His roughness and force made Yan +afraid of him, and as it was Raften's way to say +nothing until his mind was fully made up, and then +say it "strong," Yan was left in doubt as to whether +or not he was giving satisfaction.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="111">111</a></span> +<h3><a name="2II">II</a></h3> +<h3>Sam</h3> + +<p> +Sam Raften turned out to be more congenial +than he looked. His slow, drawling speech had +given a wrong impression of stupidity, and, after +a formal showing of the house under Mr. Raften, a +real investigation was headed by Sam. "This yer's +the paaar-le-r," said he, unlocking a sort of dark +cellar aboveground and groping to open what +afterward proved to be a dead, buried and almost +forgotten window. In Sanger settlement the farmhouse +parlour is not a room; it is an institution. +It is kept closed all the week except when the minister +calls, and the one at Raften's was the pure type. +Its furniture consisted of six painted chairs (fifty +cents each), two rockers ($1.49), one melodeon (thirty-two +bushels of wheat—the agent asked forty), a sideboard +made at home of the case the melodeon came +in, one rag carpet woofed at home and warped and +woven in exchange for wool, one center-table varnished +(!) ($9.00 cash, $11.00 catalogue). On the +center-table was one tintype album, a Bible, and +some large books for company use. Though dusted +once a week, they were never moved, and it was +years later before they were found to have settled +permanently into the varnish of the table. In +<span class="left"><a name="112">112</a></span> +extremely uncostly frames on the wall were the +coffin-plates of the departed members of the family. +It was the custom at Sanger to honour the dead by +bringing back from the funeral the name-plate and +framing it on a black background with some supposed +appropriate scripture text.</p> +<p> +The general atmosphere of the room was dusty and +religious as it was never opened except on Sundays +or when the parson called, which instituted a sort +of temporary Sunday, and the two small windows +were kept shut and plugged as well as muffled always, +with green paper blinds and cotton hangings. It +was a thing apart from the rest of the house—a sort +of family ghost-room: a chamber of horrors, seen but +once a week.</p> +<p> +But it contained one thing at least of interest—something +that at once brought Sam and Yan +together. This was a collection of a score of birds' +eggs. They were all mixed together in an old +glass-topped cravat box, half full of bran. None +of them were labelled or properly blown. A collector +would not have given it a second glance, but it +proved an important matter. It was as though +two New Yorkers, one disguised as a Chinaman +and the other as a Negro, had accidently met in +Greenland and by chance one had made the +sign of the secret brotherhood to which they both +belonged.</p> +<p> +"Do you like these things?" said Yan, with sudden +interest and warmth, in spite of the depressing +<span class="left"><a name="113">113</a></span> +surroundings.</p> +<p> +"You bet," said Sam. "And I'd a-had twice as +many only Da said it was doing no good and birds +was good for the farm."</p> +<p> +"Well, do you know their names?"</p> +<p> +"Wall, I should say so. I know every Bird that +flies and all about it, or putty near it," drawled Sam, +with an unusual stretch for him, as he was not given +to bragging.</p> +<p> +"I wish I did. Can't I get some eggs to take +home?"</p> +<p> +"No; Da said if I wouldn't take any more he'd +lend me his Injun Chief gun to shoot Rabbits with."</p> +<p> +"What? Are there Rabbits here?"</p> +<p> +"Wall, I should say so. I got three last winter."</p> +<p> +"But I mean <i>now</i>," said Yan, with evident disappointment.</p> +<p> +"They ain't so easy to get at <i>now</i>, but we can try. +Some day when all the work's done I'll ask Da for +his gun."</p> +<img src="images/sketch059.gif" width="131" height="328" alt="Stuffed Owl" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"When all the work's done," was a favourite +expression of the Raftens for indefinitely shelving a +project, it sounded so reasonable and was really +so final.</p> +<p> +Sam opened up the lower door of the sideboard +and got out some flint arrow-heads picked up in the +ploughing, the teeth of a Beaver dating from the +early days of the settlement, and an Owl very badly +stuffed. The sight of these precious things set Yan +all ablaze. "Oh!" was all he could say. Sam was +<span class="left"><a name="114">114</a></span> +gratified to see such effect produced by the family +possessions and explained, "Da shot that off'n the +barn an' the hired man stuffed it."</p> +<p> +The boys were getting on well together now. They +exchanged confidences all day as they met in doing +chores. In spite of the long interruptions, they got +on so well that Sam said after supper, "Say, Yan, +I'm going to show you something, but you must +promise never to tell—Swelpye!" Of course Yan +promised and added the absolutely binding and +ununderstandable word—"Swelpme."</p> +<p> +"Le's both go to the barn," said Sam.</p> +<p> +When they were half way he said: "Now I'll +let on I went back for something. You go on an' +round an' I'll meet you under the 'rusty-coat' in +the orchard." When they met under the big russet +apple tree, Sam closed one of his melancholy eyes +and said in a voice of unnecessary hush, "Follow +me." He led to the other end of the orchard where +stood the old log house that had been the home +before the building of the brick one. It was now +used as a tool house. Sam led up a ladder to the +loft (this was all wholly delightful). There at the +far end, and next the little gable pane, he again +cautioned secrecy, then when on invitation Yan had +once more "swelped" himself, he rummaged in a +dirty old box and drew out a bow, some arrows, a +rusty steel trap, an old butcher knife, some fish-hooks, +a flint and steel, a box full of matches, and +some dirty, greasy-looking stuff that he said was +<span class="left"><a name="115">115</a></span> +dried meat. "You see," he explained, "I always +wanted to be a hunter, and Da was bound I'd be a +dentist. Da said there was no money in hunting, +but one day he had to go to the dentist an' it cost +four dollars, an' the man wasn't half a day at the +job, so he wanted me to be a dentist, but I wanted +to be a hunter, an' one day he licked me and +<img src="images/sketch060.gif" width="95" height="275" alt="an old butcher knife, some fish-hooks," border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> + (Bud, that's my brother that died a year ago. If you +hear Ma talk you'll think he was an angel, but I +always reckoned he was a crazy galoot, an' he was +the worst boy in school by odds). Wall, Da licked +us awful for not feeding the hogs, so Bud got ready +to clear out, an' at first I felt just like he did an' +said I'd go too, an' we'd j'ine the Injuns. Anyhow, +I'd sure go if ever I was licked again, an' this was +the outfit we got together. Bud wanted to steal +Da's gun an' I wouldn't. I tell you I was hoppin' +mad that time, an' Bud was wuss—but I cooled off +an' talked to Bud. I says, 'Say now, Bud, it would +take about a month of travel to get out West, an' +if the Injuns didn't want nothin' but our scalps that +wouldn't be no fun, an' Da ain't really so bad, coz +we sho'ly did starve them pigs so one of 'em died.' +I reckon we deserved all we got—anyhow, it was all +dumb foolishness about skinnin' out, though I'd +like mighty well to be a hunter. Well, Bud died +that winter. You seen the biggest coffin plate on +the wall? Well, that's him. I see Ma lookin' at +it an' cryin' the other day. Da says he'll send me +to college if I'll be a dentist or a lawyer—lawyers +<span class="left"><a name="116">116</a></span> +make lots of money: Da had a lawsuit once—an' +if I don't, he says I kin go to—you know."</p> +<p> +Here was Yan's own kind of mind, and he opened +his heart. He told all about his shanty in the woods +and how he had laboured at and loved it. He was +full of enthusiasm as of old, boiling over with purpose +and energy, and Sam, he realized, had at least two +things that he had not—ability with tools and cool +judgment. It was like having the best parts of his +brother Rad put into a real human being. And +remembering the joy of his Glen, Yan said:</p> +<p> +"Let's build a shanty in the woods by the creek; +your father won't care, will he?"</p> +<p> + +<img src="images/sketch061.gif" alt="a bow, some arrows, a rusty steel trap" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="373" height="117" border="0" /> +"Not he, so long as the work's done."</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="117">117</a></span> +<h3><a name="2III">III</a></h3> +<h3>The Wigwam</h3> + +<p> +The very next day they must begin. As soon as +every chore was done they went to the woods +to select a spot.</p> +<p> +The brook, or "creek," as they called it, ran +through a meadow, then through a fence into the +woods. This was at first open and grassy, but +farther down the creek it was joined by a dense +cedar swamp. Through this there was no path, +but Sam said that there was a nice high place beyond. +The high ground seemed a long way off in the woods, +though only a hundred yards through the swamp, +but it was the very place for a camp—high, dry and +open hard woods, with the creek in front and the +cedar swamp all around. Yan was delighted. Sam +caught no little of the enthusiasm, and having brought +an axe, was ready to begin the shanty. But Yan +had been thinking hard all morning, and now he +said: "Sam, we don't want to be <i>White</i> hunters. +They're no good; we want to be Indians."</p> +<p> +"Now, that's just where you fool yourself," said +Sam. "Da says there ain't nothin' an Injun can +do that a White-man can't do better."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="118">118</a></span> +"Oh, what are you talking about?" said Yan +warmly. "A White hunter can't trail a moccasined +foot across a hard granite rock. A White hunter +can't go into the woods with nothing but a knife and +make everything he needs. A White hunter can't +hunt with bows and arrows, and catch game with +snares, can he? And there never yet was a White +man could make a Birch canoe." Then, changing his +tone, Yan went on: "Say, now, Sam, we want to +be the best kind of hunters, don't we, so as to be +ready for going out West. Let's be Injuns and +do everything like Injuns."</p> +<p> +After all, this had the advantage of romance and +picturesqueness, and Sam consented to "try it for +awhile, anyhow." And now came the point of +Yan's argument. "Injuns don't live in shanties; +they live in teepees. Why not make a teepee +instead?"</p> +<p> +"That would be just bully," said Sam, who had +seen pictures enough to need no description, "but +what are we to make it of?"</p> +<p> +"Well," answered Yan, promptly assuming the +leadership and rejoicing in his ability to speak as an +authority, "the Plains Injuns make their teepees of +skins, but the wood Injuns generally use Birch +bark."</p> +<p> +"Well, I bet you can't find skins or Birch bark +enough in this woods to make a teepee big enough +for a Chipmunk to chaw nuts in."</p> +<p> +"We can use Elm bark."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="119">119</a></span> +"That's a heap easier," replied Sam, "if it'll +answer, coz we cut a lot o' Elm logs last winter +and the bark'll be about willin' to peel now. But +first let's plan it out."</p> +<p> +This was a good move, one Yan would have overlooked. +He would probably have got a lot of material +together and made the plan afterward, but Sam had +been taught to go about his work with method.</p> +<p> +So Yan sketched on a smooth log his remembrance +of an Indian teepee. "It seems to me it was about +this shape, with the poles sticking up like that, a +hole for the smoke here and another for the door +there."</p> +<p> +"Sounds like you hain't never seen one," remarked +Sam, with more point than politeness, "but we kin +try it. Now 'bout how big?"</p> +<p> +Eight feet high and eight feet across was decided +to be about right. Four poles, each ten feet long, +were cut in a few minutes, Yan carrying them to a +smooth place above the creek as fast as Sam cut them.</p> +<p> +"Now, what shall we tie them with?" said Yan.</p> +<p> +"You mean for rope?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, only we must get everything in the woods; +real rope ain't allowed."</p> +<p> +"I kin fix that," said Sam; "when Da double-staked +the orchard fence, he lashed every pair of stakes at +the top with Willow withes."</p> +<p> +"That's so—I quite forgot," said Yan. In a few +minutes they were at work trying to tie the four poles +together with slippery stiff Willows, but it was no +easy matter. They had to be perfectly tight or they +<span class="left"><a name="120">120</a></span> +would slip and fall in a heap each time they were +raised, and it seemed at length that the boys would +be forced to the impropriety of using hay wire, when +they heard a low grunt, and turning, saw William +Raften standing with his hands behind him as +though he had watched them for hours.</p> +<p> +The boys were no little startled. Raften had a +knack of turning up at any point when something was +going on, taking in the situation fully, and then, if +he disapproved, of expressing himself in a few words +of blistering mockery delivered in a rich Irish brogue. +Just what view he would take of their pastime the +boys had no idea, but awaited with uneasiness. +If they had been wasting time when they should +have been working there is no question but that they +would have been sent with contumely to more +profitable pursuits, but this was within their rightful +play hours, and Raften, after regarding them with a +searching look, said slowly: "Bhoys!" (Sam felt +easier; his father would have said "<i>Bhise</i>" if really +angry.) "Fhat's the good o' wastin' yer time" +(Yan's heart sank) "wid Willow withes fur a job like +that? They can't be made to howld. Whoi don't +ye git some hay woire or coord at the barrun?"</p> +<p> +The boys were greatly relieved, but still this +friendly overture might be merely a feint to open the +way for a home thrust. Sam was silent. So Yan +said, presently, "We ain't allowed to use anything +but what the Indians had or could get in the woods."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="121">121</a></span> +"An' who don't allow yez?"</p> +<p> +"The rules."</p> +<p> +"Oh," said William, with some amusement. "Oi +see! Hyar."</p> +<p> +He went into the woods looking this way and that, +and presently stopped at a lot of low shrubs.</p> +<p> +"Do ye know what this is, Yan?"</p> +<p> +"No, sir."</p> +<p> +"Le's see if yer man enough to break it aff."</p> +<p> +Yan tried. The wood was brittle enough, but the +bark, thin, smooth and pliant, was as tough as +leather, and even a narrow strip defied his +strength.</p> +<p> +"That's Litherwood," said Raften. "That's what +the Injuns used; that's what we used ourselves in +the airly days of this yer settlement."</p> +<p> +The boys had looked for a rebuke, and here was a +helping hand. It all turned on the fact that this +was "play hours," Raften left with a parting word: +"In wan hour an' a half the pigs is fed."</p> +<img src="images/sketch062.gif" alt="Leatherwood" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="191" height="145" border="0" /> + +<p> +"You see Da's all right when the work ain't forgot," +said Sam, with a patronizing air. "I wonder why +I didn't think o' that there Leatherwood meself. +I've often heard that that's what was used fur tying +bags in the old days when cord was scarce, an' the +Injuns used it for tying their prisoners, too. Ain't +it the real stuff?"</p> +<img src="images/sketch063.gif" width="125" height="307" alt="wigwams" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +Several strips were now used for tying four poles +together at the top, then these four were raised on +end and spread out at the bottom to serve as the +frame of the teepee, or more properly wigwam, since +<span class="left"><a name="122">122</a></span> +it was to be made of bark.</p> +<p> +After consulting, they now got a long, limber +Willow rod an inch thick, and bending it around like +a hoop, they tied it with Leatherwood to each pole +at a point four feet from the ground. Next they +cut four short poles to reach from the ground to this. +These were lashed at their upper ends to the Willow +rod, and now they were ready for the bark slabs. +The boys went to the Elm logs and again Sam's able +use of the axe came in. He cut the bark open along +the top of one log, and by using the edge of the axe +and some wooden wedges they pried off a great roll +eight feet long and four feet across. It was a +pleasant surprise to see what a wide piece of bark +the small log gave them.</p> +<p> +Three logs yielded three fine large slabs and others +yielded pieces of various sizes. The large ones were +set up against the frame so as to make the most of +them. Of course they were much too big for the top, +and much too narrow for the bottom; but the little +pieces would do to patch if some way could be found +to make them stick.</p> +<p> +Sam suggested nailing them to the posts, and +Yan was horrified at the idea of using nails. "No +Indian has any nails."</p> +<p> +"Well, what <i>would</i> they use?" said Sam.</p> +<p> +"They used thongs, an'—an'—maybe wooden +pegs. I don't know, but seems to me that would +be all right."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="123">123</a></span> +"But them poles is hard wood," objected the +practical Sam. "You can drive Oak pegs into Pine, +but you can't drive wooden pegs into hard wood +without you make some sort of a hole first. Maybe +I'd better bring a gimlet."</p> +<p> +"Now, Sam, you might just as well hire a carpenter—<i>that</i> +wouldn't be Indian at all. Let's play it right. +We'll find some way. I believe we can tie them up +with Leatherwood."</p> +<p> +So Sam made a sharp Oak pick with his axe, and +Yan used it to pick holes in each piece of bark and +then did a sort of rude sewing till the wigwam +seemed beautifully covered in. But when they +went inside to look they were unpleasantly surprised +to find how many holes there were. It was impossible +to close them all because the bark was cracking in +so many places, but the boys plugged the worst of +them and then prepared for the great sacred ceremony—the +lighting of the fire in the middle.</p> +<p> +They gathered a lot of dry fuel, then Yan produced +a match.</p> +<p> +"That don't look to me very Injun," drawled +Sam critically. "I don't think Injuns has matches."</p> +<p> +"Well, they don't," admitted Yan, humbly. +"But I haven't a flint and steel, and don't know how +to work rubbing-sticks, so we just got to use matches, +<i>if</i> we <i>want</i> a fire."</p> +<p> +"Why, of course we want a fire. I ain't kicking," +said Sam. "Go ahead with your old leg-fire sulphur +stick. A camp without a fire would be 'bout like +last year's bird's nest or a house with the roof +<span class="left"><a name="124">124</a></span> +off."</p> +<img src="images/sketch064.gif" width="114" height="299" alt="Prayer sticks" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +Yan struck a match and put it to the wood. It +went out. He struck another—same result. Yet +another went out.</p> +<p> +Sam remarked:</p> +<p> +"Pears to me you don't know much about lightin' +a fire. Lemme show you. Let the White hunter learn +the Injun somethin' about the woods," said he with +a leer.</p> +<p> +Sam took the axe and cut some sticks of a dry +Pine root. Then with his knife he cut long curling +shavings, which he left sticking in a fuzz at the end +of each stick.</p> +<p> +"Oh, I've seen a picture of an Indian making +them. They call them 'prayer-sticks,'" said Yan.</p> +<p> +"Well, prayer-sticks is mighty good kindlin'" +replied the other. He struck a match, and in a +minute he had a blazing fire in the middle of the +wigwam.</p> +<p> +"Old Granny de Neuville, she's a witch—she +knows all about the woods, and cracked Jimmy turns +everything into poetry what she says. He says she +says when you want to make a fire in the woods you +take—</p> +<img src="images/sketch065.gif" alt="down at the bend o' the creek" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="150" height="316" border="0" /> +<p class="indent"> + "First a curl of Birch bark as dry as it kin be,<br /> + Then some twigs of soft-wood, dead, but on the tree,<br /> + Last o' all some Pine knots to make the kittle foam,<br /> + An' thar's a fire to make you think you're settin' right at home."</p> + + <p><span class="left"><a name="125">125</a></span> +"Who's Granny de Neuville?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, she's the old witch that lives down at the +bend o' the creek."</p> +<p> +"What? Has she got a granddaughter named +Biddy?" said Yan, suddenly remembering that his +ancient ally came from this part of Sanger.</p> +<p> +"Oh, my! Hain't she? Ain't Biddy a peach—drinks +like a fish, talks everybody to death about +the time she resided in Bonnerton. Gits a letter +every mail begging her to come back and 'reside' +with them some more."</p> +<p> +"Ain't this fine," said Yan, as he sat on a pile of +Fir boughs in the wigwam.</p> +<p> +"Looks like the real thing," replied Sam from his +seat on the other side. "But say, Yan, don't +make any more fire; it's kind o' warm here, an' there +seems to be something wrong with that flue—wants +sweepin', prob'ly—hain't been swep' since I kin +remember."</p> +<p> +The fire blazed up and the smoke increased. +Just a little of it wandered out of the smoke-hole at +the top, then it decided that this was a mistake and +thereafter positively declined to use the vent. Some +of it went out by chinks, and a large stream issued +from the door, but by far the best part of it seemed +satisfied with the interior of the wigwam, so that in +a minute or less both boys scrambled out. Their +eyes were streaming with smoke-tears and their +discomfiture was complete.</p> +<p> +"'Pears to me," observed Sam, "like we got them +holes mixed. The dooer should 'a 'been at the top, +<span class="left"><a name="126">126</a></span> +sence the smoke has a fancy for usin' it, an' then <i>we'd</i> +had a chance."</p> +<p> +"The Indians make it work," said Yan; "a White +hunter ought to know how."</p> +<p> +"Now's the Injun's chance," said Sam. "Maybe +it wants a dooer to close, then the smoke would have +to go out."</p> +<p> +They tried this, and of course some of the smoke +was crowded out, but not till long after the boys +were.</p> +<p> +"Seems like what does get out by the chinks is +sucked back agin by that there double-action flue," +said Sam.</p> +<p> +It was very disappointing. The romance of +sitting by the fire in one's teepee appealed to both +of the boys, but the physical torture of the smoke +made it unbearable. Their dream was dispelled, +and Sam suggested, "Maybe we'd better try a shanty."</p> +<p> +"No," said Yan, with his usual doggedness. +"I know it can be done, because the Indians do it. +We'll find out in time."</p> +<p> +But all their efforts were in vain. The wigwam +was a failure, as far as fire was concerned. It was +very small and uncomfortable, too; the wind blew +through a hundred crevices, which grew larger as the +Elm bark dried and cracked. A heavy shower +caught them once, and they were rather glad to be +driven into their cheerless lodge, but the rain +came abundantly into the smoke-hole as well as +through the walls, and they found it but little +protection.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="127">127</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus06a.jpg" width="540" height="771" alt="The wigwam was a failure." border="0" /></p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="129">129</a></span> +"Seems to me, if anything, a <i>leetle</i> wetter in here +than outside," said Sam, as he led in a dash for home.</p> +<p> +That night a heavy storm set in, and next day +the boys found their flimsy wigwam blown down—nothing +but a heap of ruins.</p> +<p> +Some time after, Raften asked at the table in +characteristic stern style, "Bhoys, what's doin' +down to yer camp? Is yer wigwam finished?"</p> +<p> +"No good," said Sam. "All blowed down."</p> +<p> +"How's that?"</p> +<p> +"I dunno'. It smoked like everything. We +couldn't stay in it."</p> +<p> +"Couldn't a-been right made," said Raften; then +with a sudden interest, which showed how eagerly +he would have joined in this forty years ago, he +said, "Why don't ye make a rale taypay?"</p> +<p> +"Dunno' how, an' ain't got no stuff."</p> +<p> +"Wall, now, yez have been pretty good an' ain't +slacked on the wurruk, yez kin have the ould wagon +kiver. Cousin Bert could tache ye how to make +it, if he wuz here. Maybe Caleb Clark knows," +he added, with a significant twinkle of his eye. +"Better ask him." Then he turned to give orders +to the hired men, who, of course, ate at the family +table.</p> +<p> +"Da, do you care if we go to Caleb?"</p> +<p> +"I don't care fwhat ye do wid him," was the reply.</p> +<p> +Raften was no idle talker and Sam knew that, so +as soon as "the law was off" he and Yan got out the +<span class="left"><a name="130">130</a></span> +old wagon cover. It seemed like an acre of canvas +when they spread it out. Having thus taken possession, +they put it away again in the cow-house, +their own domain, and Sam said: "I've a great +notion to go right to Caleb; he sho'ly knows more +about a teepee than any one else here, which ain't +sayin' much."</p> +<p> +"Who's Caleb?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, he's the old Billy Goat that shot at Da +oncet, just after Da beat him at a horse trade. Let +on it was a mistake: 'twas, too, as he found out, +coz Da bought up some old notes of his, got 'em +cheap, and squeezed him hard to meet them. He's +had hard luck ever since.</p> +<p> +"He's a mortal queer old duck, that Caleb. He +knows heaps about the woods, coz he was a hunter +an' trapper oncet. My! wouldn't he be down on me +if he knowed who was my Da, but he don't have to +know."</p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch067.gif" alt="Granny de Neuville's cabin" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="173" height="111" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="131">131</a></span> +<h3><a name="2IV">IV</a></h3> +<h3>The Sanger Witch</h3> + +<p class="indent"> + The Sanger Witch dwelt in the bend of the creek,<br /> + And neither could read nor write;<br /> + But she knew in a day what few knew in a week,<br /> + For hers was the second sight.<br /> + "Read?" said she, "I am double read;<br /> + You fools of the ink and pen<br /> + Count never the eggs, but the sticks of the nest,<br /> + See the clothes, not the souls of men."</p> + <p class="indent2">—Cracked Jimmy's Ballad of Sanger.<br /><br /> +</p> + +<p> +The boys set out for Caleb's. It was up the +creek away from the camp ground. As they +neared the bend they saw a small log shanty, +with some poultry and a pig at the door.</p> +<p> +"That's where the witch lives," said Sam.</p> +<p> +"Who—old Granny de Neuville?"</p> +<p> +"Yep, and she just loves me. Oh, yes; about the +same way an old hen loves a Chicken-hawk. 'Pears +to me she sets up nights to love me."</p> +<p> +"Why?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, I guess it started with the pigs. No, let's see: +first about the trees. Da chopped off a lot of Elm +trees that looked terrible nice from her windy. She's +awful queer about a tree. She hates to see 'em cut +down, an' that soured her same as if she owned 'em.</p> +<img src="images/sketch068.gif" alt="Slippery Elm" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="226" height="194" border="0" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="132">132</a></span> +Then there wuz the pigs. You see, one winter she was +awful hard up, an' she had two pigs worth, maybe, +$5.00 each—anyway, she said they was, an' she ought +to know, for they lived right in the shanty with her—an' +she come to Da (I guess she had tried every one +else first) an' Da he squeezed her down an' got the two +pigs for $7.00. He al'ays does that. Then he comes +home an' says to Ma, 'Seems to me the old lady is +pretty hard put. 'Bout next Saturday you take two +sacks of flour and some pork an' potatoes around an' +see that she is fixed up right.' Da's al'ays doin' them +things, too, on the quiet. So Ma goes with about +$15.00 worth o' truck. The old witch was kinder +'stand off.' She didn't say much. Ma was goin' +slow, not knowin' just whether to give the stuff out +an' out, or say it could be worked for next year, or +some other year, when there was two moons, or some +time when the work was all done. Well, the old +witch said mighty little until the stuff was all put in +the cellar, then she grabs up a big stick an' breaks out +at Ma:</p> +<p> +"'Now you git out o' my house, you dhirty, sthuck-up +thing. I ain't takin' no charity from the likes o' +you. That thing you call your husband robbed me +o' my pigs, an' we ain't any more'n square now, so +git out an' don't you dar set fut in my house agin'."</p> +<img src="images/sketch069.gif" width="80" height="200" alt="Ironwood, or Hop Hornbeam" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"Well, she was sore on us when Da bought her +pigs, but she was five times wuss after she clinched +the groceries. 'Pears like they soured on her stummick."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="133">133</a></span> +"What a shame, the old wretch," said Yan, with +ready sympathy for the Raftens.</p> +<p> +"No," replied Sam; "she's only queer. There's +lots o' folk takes her side. But she's awful queer. +She won't have a tree cut if she can help it, an' when +the flowers come in the spring she goes out in the +woods and sets down beside 'em for hours an' calls +'em 'Me beauty—me little beauty,' an' she just loves +the birds. When the boys want to rile her they get a +sling-shot an' shoot the birds in her garden an' she +just goes crazy. She pretty near starves herself +every winter trying to feed all the birds that come +around. She has lots of 'em to feed right out o' her +hand. Da says they think its an old pine root, but +she has a way o' coaxin' 'em that's awful nice. There +she'll stand in freezin' weather calling them 'Me +beauties'.</p> + +<p> +"You see that little windy in the end?" he +continued, as they came close to the witch's hut. +"Well, that's the loft, an' it's full o' all sorts o' +plants an' roots."</p> +<p> +"What for?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, for medicine. She's great on hairbs."</p> +<p> +"Oh, yes, I remember now Biddy did say that her +Granny was a herb doctor."</p> +<img src="images/sketch070.gif" alt="Silver Maple" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="128" height="184" border="0" /> +<p> +"Doctor? She ain't much of a doctor, but I bet +she knows every plant that grows in the woods, an' +they're sure strong after they've been up there for +a year, with the cat sleepin' on them."</p> +<p> +"I wish I could go and see her."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="134">134</a></span> +"Guess we can," was the reply.</p> +<p> +"Doesn't she know you?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, but watch me fix her," drawled Sam. "There +ain't nothin' she likes better'n a sick pusson."</p> +<p> +Sam stopped now, rolled up his sleeves and examined +both arms, apparently without success, for he +then loosed his suspenders, dropped his pants, and +proceeded to examine his legs. Of course, all boys +have more or less cuts and bruises in various stages of +healing. Sam selected his best, just below the knee, +a scratch from a nail in the fence. He had never +given it a thought before, but now he "reckoned it +would do." With a lead pencil borrowed from Yan +he spread a hue of mortification all around it, a green +butternut rind added the unpleasant yellowish-brown +of human decomposition, and the result was a frightful +looking plague spot. By chewing some grass he made +a yellowish-green dye and expectorated this on the +handkerchief which he bound on the sore. He then +got a stick and proceeded to limp painfully toward +the witch's abode. As they drew near, the partly +open door was slammed with ominous force. Sam, +quite unabashed, looked at Yan and winked, then +knocked. The bark of a small dog answered. He +knocked again. A sound now of some one moving +within, but no answer. A third time he knocked, +then a shrill voice: "Get out o' that. Get aff my +place, you dirthy young riff-raff."</p> +<p> +Sam grinned at Yan. Then drawling a little more +than usual, he said:</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="135">135</a></span> +"It's a poor boy, Granny. The doctors can't do +nothin' for him," which last, at least, was quite true.</p> +<img src="images/sketch072.gif" width="118" height="100" alt="Granny de Neuville" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +There was no reply, so Sam made bold to open +the door. There sat the old woman glowering with +angry red eyes across the stove, a cat in her lap, a +pipe in her mouth, and a dog growling toward the +strangers.</p> +<p> +"Ain't you Sam Raften?" she asked fiercely.</p> +<p> +"Yes, marm. I get hurt on a nail in the fence. +They say you kin git blood-p'isinin' that way," said +Sam, groaning a little and trying to look interesting. +The order to "get out" died on the witch's lips. Her +good old Irish heart warmed to the sufferer. After +all, it was rather pleasant to have the enemy thus +humbly seek her aid, so she muttered:</p> +<p> +"Le's see it."</p> +<p> +Sam was trying amid many groans to expose the +disgusting mess he had made around his knee, when a +step was heard outside. The door opened and in +walked Biddy.</p> +<p> +She and Yan recognized each other at once. The +one had grown much longer, the other much broader +since the last meeting, but the greeting was that +of two warm-hearted people glad to see each other +once more.</p> +<p> +"An' how's yer father an' yer mother an' how is all +the fambily? Law, do ye mind the Cherry Lung-balm +we uster make? My, but we wuz greenies then! +Ye mind, I uster tell ye about Granny? Well, here +she is. Granny, this is Yan. Me an' him hed lots +o' fun together when I 'resided' with his mamma, +<span class="left"><a name="136">136</a></span> +didn't we, Yan? Now, Granny's the one to tell ye +all about the plants."</p> +<p> +A long groan from Sam now called all attention his +way.</p> +<p> +"Well, if it ain't Sam Raften," said Biddy coldly.</p> +<p> +"Yes, an' he's deathly sick," added Granny. +"Their own docther guv him up an said mortal man +couldn't save him nohow, so he jest hed to come to +me."</p> +<p> +Another long groan was ample indorsement.</p> +<p> +"Le's see. Gimme my scissors, Biddy; I'll hev to +cut the pant leg aff."</p> +<p> +"No, no," Sam blurted out with sudden vigour, +dreading the consequences at home. "I kin roll +it up."</p> +<p> +"Thayer, thot'll do. Now I say," said the witch. +"Yes, sure enough, thayer <i>is</i> proud flesh. I moight +cut it out," said she, fumbling in her pocket (Sam +supposed for a knife, and made ready to dash for the +door), "but le's see, no—that would be a fool docther +trick. I kin git on without."</p> +<p> +"Yes, sure," said Sam, clutching at the idea, "that's +just what a fool doctor would do, but you kin give +me something to take that's far better."</p> +<p> +"Well, sure an' I kin," and Yan and Sam breathed +more freely. "Shwaller this, now," and she offered +him a tin cup of water into which she spilled some +powder of dry leaves. Sam did so. "An' you take +this yer bundle and bile it in two gallons of wather +and drink a glassful ivery hour, an' hev a loive +<span class="left"><a name="137">137</a></span> +chicken sphlit with an axe an' laid hot on the place +twicet ivery day, till the proud flesh goes, an' it'll be +all right wid ye—a fresh chicken ivery toime, moind ye."</p> +<p> +"Wouldn't—turkeys—do—better?" groaned Sam, +feebly. "I'm me mother's pet, Granny, an' expense +ain't any objek"—a snort that may have meant +mortal agony escaped him.</p> +<p> +"Niver moind, now. Sure we won't talk of yer father +an' mother; they're punished pretty bad already. +Hiven forbid they don't lose the rest o' ye fur their +sins. It ain't meself that 'ud bear ony ill-will."</p> +<p> +A long groan cut short what looked like a young +sermon.</p> +<p> +"What's the plant, Granny?" asked Yan, carefully +avoiding Sam's gaze.</p> +<p> +"Shure, an' it grows in the woods."</p> +<p> +"Yes, but I want to know what it's like and what +it's called."</p> +<p> +"Shure, 'tain't like nothin' else. It's just like +itself, an' it's called Witch-hazel.</p> + +<p class="indent"> + "'Witch-hazel blossoms in the faal,<br /> + To cure the chills and Fayvers aall,'</p> + +<p> +"as cracked Jimmy says."</p> +<p> +"I'll show you some av it sometime," said Biddy.</p> +<p> +"Can it be made into Lung-balm?" asked Yan, +mischievously.</p> +<p> +"I guess we'll have to go now," Sam feebly put +in. "I'm feeling much better. Where's my stick? +<span class="left"><a name="138">138</a></span> +Here, Yan, you kin carry my medicine, an' be <i>very</i> +keerful of it."</p> +<p> +Yan took the bundle, not daring to look Sam in +the face.</p> +<p> +Granny bade them both come back again, and +followed to the door with a hearty farewell. At the +same moment she said:</p> +<p> +"Howld on!" Then she went to the one bed in the +room, which also was the house, turned down the +clothes, and in the middle exposed a lot of rosy +apples. She picked out two of the best and gave +one to each of the boys.</p> +<p> +"Shure, Oi hev to hoide them thayer fram the +pig, for they're the foinest iver grew."</p> +<p> +"I know they are," whispered Sam, as he limped +out of hearing, "for her son Larry stole them out +of our orchard last fall. They're the only kind +that keeps over. They're the best that grow, but +a trifle too warm just now."</p> +<p> +"Good-by, and thank you much," said Yan.</p> +<p> +"I-feel-better-already," drawled Sam. "That +tired feeling has left me, an' sense tryin' your remedy +I have took no other," but added aside, "I wish I +could throw up the stuff before it pisens me," and +then, with a keen eye to the picturesque effect, he +wanted to fling his stick away and bound into the +woods.</p> +<p> +It was all Yan could do to make him observe some +of the decencies and limp a little till out of sight. +As it was, the change was quite marked and the +genial old witch called loudly on Biddy to see with +<span class="left"><a name="139">139</a></span> +her own eyes how quickly she had helped young +Raften "afther all the dochters in the country hed +giv him up."</p> +<p> +"Now for Caleb Clark, Esq., Q.C.," said Sam.</p> +<p> +"Q.C.?" inquired his friend.</p> +<p> +"Some consider it means Queen's Counsel, an' +some claims as it stands for Queer Cuss. One or +other maybe is right."</p> +<p> +"You're stepping wonderfully for a crippled boy +the doctors have given up," remarked Yan.</p> +<p> +"Yes; that's the proud flesh in me right leg that's +doin' the high steppin'. The left one is jest plain +laig."</p> +<p> +"Let's hide this somewhere till we get back," and +Yan held up the bundle of Witch-hazel.</p> +<p> +"I'll hide that," said Sam, and he hurled the +bundle afar into the creek.</p> +<p> +"Oh, Sam, that's mean. Maybe she wants it +herself."</p> +<p> +"Pooh, that's all the old brush is good for. I +done more'n me duty when I drank that swill. I +could fairly taste the cat in it."</p> +<p> +"What'll you tell her next time?"</p> +<p> +"Well, I'll tell her I put the sticks in the right +place an' where they done the most good. I soaked +'em in water an' took as much as I wanted of the +flooid.</p> +<p> +"She'll see for herself I really did pull through, +and will be a blamed sight happier than if I drank her +old pisen brushwood an' had to send for a really +<span class="left"><a name="140">140</a></span> +truly doctor."</p> +<p> +Yan was silenced, but not satisfied. It seemed +discourteous to throw the sticks away—so soon, +anyway; besides, he had curiosity to know just what +they were and how they acted.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch073.gif" width="246" height="150" alt="Granny's Hairb processor" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="141">141</a></span> +<h3><a name="2V">V</a></h3> +<h3>Caleb</h3> + +<p> +A mile farther was the shanty of Caleb Clark, a +mere squatter now on a farm once his own. +As the boys drew near, a tall, round-shouldered +man with a long white beard was seen +carrying in an armful of wood.</p> +<p> +"Ye see the Billy Goat?" said Sam.</p> +<p> +Yan sniffed as he gasped the "why" of the nickname.</p> +<p> +"I guess you better do the talking; Caleb ain't so +easy handled as the witch, and he's just as sour on +Da."</p> +<p> +So Yan went forward rather cautiously and knocked +at the open door of the shanty. A deep-voiced Dog +broke into a loud bay, the long beard appeared, +and its owner said, "Wall?"</p> +<p> +"Are you Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"Yep." Then, "Lie down, Turk," to a black-and-tan +Hound that came growling out.</p> +<p> +"I came—I—we wanted to ask some questions—if +you don't mind."</p> +<p> +"What might yer name be?"</p> +<p> +"Yan."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="142">142</a></span> +"An' who is this?"</p> +<p> +"He's my chum, Sam."</p> +<p> +"I'm Sam Horn," said Sam, with some truth, for +he was Samuel Horn Raften, but with sufficient +deception to make Yan feel very uncomfortable.</p> +<p> +"And where are ye from?"</p> +<p> +"Bonnerton," said Yan.</p> +<p> +"To-day?" was the rejoinder, with a tone of +doubt.</p> +<p> +"Well, no," Yan began; but Sam, who had tried +to keep out of notice for fear of recognition, saw that +his ingenuous companion was being quickly pumped +and placed, and now interposed: "You see, Mr. Clark, +we are camped in the woods and we want to make +a teepee to live in. We have the stuff an' was told +that you knew all about the making."</p> +<p> +"Who told ye?"</p> +<p> +"The old witch at the bend of the creek."</p> +<p> +"Where are ye livin' now?"</p> +<p> +"Well," said Sam, hastening again to forestall +Yan, whose simple directness he feared, "to tell +the truth, we made a wigwam of bark in the woods +below here, but it wasn't a success."</p> +<p> +"Whose woods?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, about a mile below on the creek."</p> +<p> +"Hm! That must be Raften's or Burns's +woods."</p> +<p> +"I guess it is," said Sam.</p> +<p> +"<i>An' you look uncommon like Sam Raften</i>. You +consarned young whelp, to come here lyin' an' tryin' +to pull the wool over my eyes. Get out o' this now, +or I'll boot ye."</p> +<span class="left"><a name="143">143</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus07a.jpg" width="640" height="494" alt="Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye." border="0" /></p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="145">145</a></span> +Yan turned very red. He thought of the scripture +text, "Be sure your sin will find you out," and he +stepped back. Sam stuck his tongue in his cheek +and followed. But he was his father's son. He +turned and said:</p> +<p> +"Now see here, Mr. Clark, fair and square; we +come here to ask a simple question about the woods. +You are the only man that knows or we wouldn't +'a' bothered you. I knowed you had it in for Da, +so I tried to fool you, and it didn't go. I wish now +I had just come out square and said, 'I'm Sam +Raften; will you tell me somethin' I want to know, +or won't you?' I didn't know you hed anything +agin me or me friend that's camping with me."</p> +<p> +There is a strong bond of sympathy between all +Woodcrafters. The mere fact that a man wants to +go his way is a claim on a Woodcrafter's notice. Old +Caleb, though soured by trouble and hot-tempered, +had a kind heart; he resisted for a moment the first +impulse to slam the door in their faces; then as he +listened he fell into the tempter's snare, for it was +baited with the subtlest of flatteries. He said to +Yan:</p> +<img src="images/sketch074.gif" alt="pole for teepee" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="189" height="58" border="0" /> +<p> +"Is your name Raften?"</p> +<p> +"No, sir."</p> +<p> +"Air ye owt o' kin?"</p> +<p> +"No, sir."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="146">146</a></span> +"I don't want no truck with a Raften, but what +do ye want to know?"</p> +<p> +"We built a wigwam of bark, but it's no good, +but now we have a big canvas cover an' want to +know how to make a teepee."</p> +<p> +"A teepee. H-m—" said the old man reflectively.</p> +<p> +"They say you've lived in them," ventured Yan.</p> +<p> +"Hm—'bout forty year; but it's one thing to +wear a suit of clothes and another thing to make +one. Seems to me it was about like this," and he +took up a burnt stick and a piece of grocer's paper. +"No—now hold on. Yes, I remember now; I seen +a bunch of squaws make one oncet.</p> +<p> +"First they sewed the skins together. No, first +thar was a lot o' prayin'; ye kin suit yerselves 'bout +that—then they sewed the skins together an" pegged it +down flat on the prairie (B D H I, Cut No. 1).</p><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="147">147</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch076.gif" width="391" height="222" alt="Pattern for a Simple 10-Foot Teepee" border="0" /></p> + +<h5>PATTERN FOR A SIMPLE 10-FOOT TEEPEE</h5><br /><br /> +<p> +"Then put in a peg at the middle of one side (A). +Then with a burnt stick an' a coord—yes, there +must 'a' been a coord—they drawed a half circle—so +(B C D). Then they cut that off, an' out o' the +pieces they make two flaps like that (H L M J and +K N O I), an' sews 'em on to P E and G Q. Them's +smoke-flaps to make the smoke draw. Thar's a upside +down pocket in the top side corner o' each smoke-flap—so—for +the top of each pole, and there is +rows o' holes down—so (M B and N D, Cut No. 2)—on +each side fur the lacin' pins. Then at the +top of that pint (A, Cut 1) ye fasten a short lash-rope.</p><br /><br /> + +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch075.gif" width="386" height="232" alt="The Complete Teepee Cover—Unornamented" border="0" /></p> +<h5>THE COMPLETE TEEPEE COVER—UNORNAMENTED</h5> +<br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch077.gif" width="127" height="290" alt="1st set up tripod, 2nd set up and bind other six poles" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="149">149</a></span> +"Le's see, now. I reckon thar's about ten poles for +a ten-foot lodge, with two more for the smoke-flaps. +Now, when ye set her up ye tie three poles together—so—an' + +set 'em up first, then lean the other poles around, +except one, an' lash them by carrying the rope around +a few times. Now tie the top o' the cover to the +top o' the last pole by the short lash-rope, hist the +pole into place—that hists the cover, too, ye see—an' +ye swing it round with the smoke-poles an' fasten +the two edges together with the wooden pins. The +two long poles put in the smoke-flap pockets works +the vent to suit the wind."</p> +<p> +In his conversation Caleb had ignored Sam and +talked to Yan, but the son of his father was not so +easily abashed. He foresaw several practical difficulties +and did not hesitate to ask for light.</p> +<p> +"What keeps it from blowin' down?" he asked.</p> +<p> +"Wall," said Caleb, still addressing Yan, "the +long rope that binds the poles is carried down under, +and fastened tight to a stake that serves for anchor, +'sides the edge of the cover is pegged to the ground +all around."</p> +<p> +"How do you make the smoke draw?" was his +next.</p> +<img src="images/sketch079.gif" alt="3rd set up tenth pole with teepee cover fastened to it by lash rope" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="195" height="133" border="0" /> +<span style="position:absolute; left: 70%; right: 1%; font-size: 0.7em;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +3rd set up tenth pole with teepee cover fastened to it by lash rope</span> +<p> +"Ye swing the flaps by changing the poles till they +is quartering down the wind. That draws best."</p> + +<img src="images/sketch078.gif" width="174" height="184" alt="Sioux Teepee" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p><br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +"How do you close the door?"</p> +<p> +"Wall, some jest lets the edges sag together, but + +the best teepees has a door made of the same stuff as +the cover put tight on a saplin' frame an' swung from +<span class="left"><a name="150">150</a></span> +a lacin' pin."</p> +<img src="images/sketch080.gif" width="73" height="215" alt="Chestnut" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> + +<p> +This seemed to cover the ground, so carefully folding +the dirty paper with the plan, Yan put it in his pocket, +said "Thank you" and went off. To the "Good-day" +of the boys Caleb made no reply, but turned as they +left and asked, "Whar ye camped?"</p> +<img src="images/sketch081.gif" width="111" height="55" alt="Oak" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"On the knoll by the creek in Raften's swamp."</p> +<p> +"H-m, maybe I'll come an' see ye."</p> +<p> +"All right," Sam called out; "follow the blazed +trail from the brush fence."</p> +<img src="images/sketch082.gif" width="219" height="317" alt="Chestnut Oak, Red Oak" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p> +"Why, Sam," said Yan, as soon as they were out +of hearing, "there isn't any blazed trail; why did you +say that?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, I thought it sounded well," was the calm +answer, "an' it's easy to have the blazes there as soon +as we want to, an' a blame sight sooner than he's +likely to use them."</p><br /> +<img src="images/sketch083.gif" align="right" hspace="10" width="123" height="178" alt="Blackjack Oak" border="0" /> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<img src="images/sketch084.gif" width="103" height="116" alt="Pin Oak" align="left" border="0" /> +<img src="images/sketch085.gif" alt="Swamp White Oak" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="151" height="121" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="151">151</a></span> +<h3><a name="2VI">VI</a></h3> + +<h3>The Making of the Teepee</h3> + + +<p> +Raften sniffed in amusement when he heard +that the boys had really gone to Caleb and got +what they wanted. Nothing pleased him +more than to find his son a successful schemer.</p> +<p> +"Old Caleb wasn't so dead sure about the teepee, +as near as I sized him up," observed Sam.</p> +<p> +"I guess we've got enough to go ahead on," said +Yan, "an' tain't a hanging matter if we do make a +mistake."</p> +<p> +The cover was spread out again flat and smooth on +the barn floor, and stones and a few nails put in the +sides to hold it.</p> +<p> +The first thing that struck them was that it was a +rough and tattered old rag.</p> +<p> +And Sam remarked: "I see now why Da said we +could have it. I reckon we'll have to patch it before +we cut out the teepee."</p> +<p> +"No," said Yan, assuming control, as he was apt +to do in matters pertaining to the woods; "we better +draw our plans first so as not to patch any part that's +going to be cut off afterward."</p> +<p> +"Great head! But I'm afraid them patches won't +be awful ornamental."</p> +<span class="left"><a name="152">152</a></span> +<p> +"They're all right," was the reply. "Indians' +teepees are often patched where bullets and arrows +have gone through."</p> +<p> +"Well, I'm glad I wa'n't living inside during them +hostilities," and Sam exposed a dozen or more holes.</p> +<p> +"Oh, get off there and give me that cord."</p> +<p> +"Look out," said Sam; "that's my festered knee. +It's near as bad to-day as it was when we called on +the witch."</p> +<p> +Yan was measuring. "Let's see. We can cut off +all those rags and still make a twelve-foot teepee. +Twelve foot high—that will be twenty-four feet +across the bottom of the stuff. Fine! That's just the +thing. Now I'll mark her off."</p> +<p> +"Hold on, there," protested his friend; "you can't +do that with chalk. Caleb said the Injuns used a +burnt stick. You hain't got no right to use chalk. +'You might as well hire a carpenter.'"</p> +<p> +"Oh, you go on. You hunt for a burnt stick, and +if you don't find one bring me the shears instead."</p> +<p> +Thus, with many consultations of Caleb's draft, the +cutting-out was done—really a very simple matter. +Then the patching was to be considered.</p> +<p> +Pack-thread, needles and <i>very l-o-n-g</i> stitches were +used, but the work went slowly on. All the spare +time of one day was given to patching. Sam, of +course, kept up a patter of characteristic remarks to +the piece he was sewing. Yan sewed in serious +silence. At first Sam's were put on better, but Yan +learned fast and at length did by far the better sewing.<br /><br /></p><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="153">153</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch086.jpg" width="387" height="239" alt="Decoration of Black Bull's Teepee: (Two Examples of Doors)" border="0" /></p> +<h4>Decoration of Black Bull's Teepee: (Two Examples of Doors)</h4><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch087.gif" width="385" height="209" alt="Thunder Bull's Teepee" border="0" /></p> +<h4>THUNDER BULL'S TEEPEE</h4><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="154">154</a></span> +<br /><br /> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch088.gif" width="392" height="163" alt="Under-view of storm-cap; storm-cap in place" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /> +<h5>Notes on Making Teepee</h5> +<span class="note"> +The slimmer the poles are at the top where they cross the smaller the opening in the canvas and the less danger +of rain coming in.<br /><br /> + +In regions where there is much rain it is well to cut the projecting poles very short and put over them a +"storm cap," "bull boat" or "shield" made of canvas on a rod bent in a three-foot circle. This device was +used by the Mandans over the smoke-hole of their lodges during the heavy rains.</span> +<br /><br /><hr class="medium" /> +<p> +<span class="left"><a name="155">155</a></span> +That night the boys were showing their handiwork +to the hired hands. Si Lee, a middle-aged man with +a vast waistband, after looking on with ill-concealed +but good-natured scorn, said: +<img src="images/sketch089.gif" width="101" height="128" alt="patch" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +</p> +<p> + +"Why didn't ye put the patches inside?"</p> +<p> +"Didn't think of it," was Yan's answer.</p> +<p> +"Coz we're goin' to live inside, an' need the room," +said Sam.</p> +<p> +"Why did ye make ten stitches in going round that +hole; ye could just as easy have done it in four," and +Si sniffed as he pointed to great, ungainly stitches an +inch long. "I call that waste labour."</p> +<p> +"Now see here," blurted Sam, "if you don't like +our work let's see you do it better. There's lots to do +yet."</p> +<p> +"Where?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, ask Yan. He's bossin' the job. Old Caleb +wouldn't let me in. It just broke my heart. I +sobbed all the way home, didn't I, Yan?</p> +<p> +"There's the smoke-flaps to stitch on and hem, and +the pocket at the top of the flaps—and—I—suppose," +Yan added, as a feeler, "it—would—be—better—if—hemmed—all—around."</p> +<p> +"Now, I tell ye what I'll do. If you boys'll go to +the 'Corner' to-night and get my boots that the +cobbler's fixing, I'll sew on the smoke-flaps."</p> +<p> +"I'll take that offer," said Yan; "and say, Si, it +doesn't really matter which is the outside. You can +turn the cover so the patches will be in."</p> +<p> +The boys got the money to pay for the boots, and +after supper they set out on foot for the "Corner," +<span class="left"><a name="156">156</a></span> +two miles away.</p> +<p> +"He's a queer duck," and Sam jerked his thumb +back to show that he meant Si Lee; "sounds like a +Chinese laundry. I guess that's the only thing +he isn't. He can do any mortal thing but get on in +life. He's been a soldier an' a undertaker an' a cook +He plays a fiddle he made himself; it's a rotten bad +one, but it's away ahead of his playing. He stuffs +birds—that Owl in the parlour is his doin'; he tempers +razors, kin doctor a horse or fix up a watch, an' he +does it in about the same way, too; bleeds a horse no +matter what ails it, an' takes another wheel out o' +the watch every times he cleans it. He took Larry +de Neuville's old clock apart to clean once—said he +knew all about it—an' when he put it together again +he had wheels enough left over for a new clock.</p> +<p> +"He's too smart an' not smart enough. There ain't +anything on earth he can't do a little, an' there ain't +a blessed thing that he can do right up first-class, +but thank goodness sewing canvas is his long suit. +You see he was a sailor for three years—longest time +he ever kept a job, fur which he really ain't to blame, +since it was a whaler on a three-years' cruise."</p> +<img src="images/sketch090.gif" width="138" height="144" alt="fiddler" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="157">157</a></span> +<h3><a name="2VII">VII</a></h3> + +<h3>The Calm Evening</h3> + +<p> +It was a calm June evening, the time of the +second daily outburst of bird song, the day's +aftermath. The singers seemed to be in unusual +numbers as well. Nearly every good perch had +some little bird that seemed near bursting with joy +and yet trying to avert that dire catastrophe.</p> +<p> +As the boys went down the road by the outer fence of +their own orchard a Hawk came sailing over, silencing +as he came the singing within a given radius. Many +of the singers hid, but a Meadow Lark that had been +whistling on a stake in the open was now vainly +seeking shelter in the broad field. The Hawk was +speeding his way. The Lark dodged and put on all +power to reach the orchard, but the Hawk was after +him now—was gaining—in another moment would +have clutched the terrified musician, but out of the +Apple trees there dashed a small black-and-white bird—the +Kingbird. With a loud harsh twitter—his war-cry—repeated +again and again, with his little gray +head-feathers raised to show the blood-and-flame-coloured +undercrest—his war colours—he darted +straight at the great robber.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="158">158</a></span> +"Clicker-a-clicker," he fairly screamed, and made +for the huge Hawk, ten times his size.</p> +<p> +"Clicker-a-clicker!" he shrieked, like a cateran +shouting the "slogan," and down like a black-and-white +dart—to strike the Hawk fairly between the +shoulders just as the Meadow Lark dropped in despair +to the bare ground and hid its head from the approaching +stroke of death.</p> +<p> +"Clicker-a-clicker"—and the Hawk wheeled in +sudden consternation. "Clicker-a-clicker"—and the +dauntless little warrior dropped between his wings, +stabbing and tearing.</p> +<p> +The Hawk bucked like a mustang, the Kingbird +was thrown, but sprung on agile pinions above again.</p> +<p> +"Clicker-a-clicker," and he struck as before. +Large brown feathers were floating away on the +breeze now. The Meadow Lark was forgotten. The +Hawk thought only of escape.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="159">159</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus08a.jpg" width="560" height="804" alt="'Clicker-a-clicker!' he shrieked ... and down like a dart." border="0" /> +</p> +<p> +"Clicker-a-clicker," the slogan still was heard. +The Hawk was putting on all speed to get away, but +the Kingbird was riding him most of the time. +Several brown feathers floated down, the Hawk +dwindled in the distance to a Sparrow and the Kingbird +to a fly dancing on his back. The Hawk made a +final plunge into a thicket, and the king came home +again, uttering the shrill war-cry once or twice, +probably to let the queen know that he was coming +back, for she flew to a high branch of the Apple tree +where she could greet the returning hero. He came +with an occasional "clicker-a-clicker"—then, when +near her, he sprung fifty feet in the air and dashed +<span class="left"><a name="161">161</a></span> +down, screaming his slogan without interruption, +darting zigzag with the most surprising evolutions +and turns—this way, that way, sideways and downward, +dealing the deadliest blows right and left at an +imaginary foe, then soared, and did it all over again +two or three times, just to show how far he was from +being tired, and how much better he could have done +it had it been necessary. Then with a final swoop +and a volley of "clickers" he dashed into the bush +to receive the congratulations of the one for whom it +all was meant and the only spectator for whose +opinion he cared in the least.</p> +<p> +"Now, ain't that great," said Sam, with evident +sincerity and pleasure. His voice startled Yan +and brought him back. He had been wholly lost +in silent admiring wonder of the dauntless little +Kingbird.</p> +<p> +A Vesper Sparrow ran along the road before them, +flitting a few feet ahead each time they overtook it +and showing the white outer tail-feathers as it flew.</p> +<p> +"A little Graybird," remarked Sam.</p> +<p> +"No, that isn't a Graybird; that's a Vesper +Sparrow," exclaimed Yan, in surprise, for he knew +he was right.</p> +<p> +"Well, <i>I</i> dunno," said Sam, yielding the point.</p> +<p> +"I thought you said you knew every bird that +flies and all about it" replied his companion, for the +memory of this first day was strong with him yet.</p> +<p> +Sam snorted: "I didn't know you then. I was +just loadin' you up so you'd think I was a wonderful +<span class="left"><a name="162">162</a></span> +feller, an' you did, too—for awhile."</p> +<p> +A Red-headed Woodpecker, carrying a yellow +butterfly, flew on a fence stake ahead of them and +peeped around as they drew near. The setting sun +on his bright plumage, the lilac stake and the yellow +butterfly, completed a most gorgeous bit of colour +and gave Yan a thrill of joy. A Meadow Lark on a +farther stake, a Bluebird on another, and a Vesper +Bird on a stone, each added his appeal to eye and +ear, till Sam exclaimed:</p> +<p> +"Oh, ain't that awful nice?" and Yan was dumb +with a sort of saddened joy.</p> +<p> +Birds hate the wind, and this was one of those +birdy days that come only with a dead calm.</p> +<p> +They passed a barn with two hundred pairs of +Swallows flying and twittering around, a cut bank +of the road had a colony of 1,000 Sand Martins, a +stream had its rattling Kingfishers, and a marsh +was the playground of a multitude of Red-winged +Blackbirds.</p> +<p> +Yan was lifted up with the joy of the naturalist at +seeing so many beautiful living things. Sam felt it, +too; he grew very silent, and the last half-mile to the +"Corner" was passed without a word. The boots were +got. Sam swung them around his neck and the boys +set out for home. The sun was gone, but not the +birds, and the spell of the evening was on them still. +A Song Sparrow by the brook and a Robin high in the +Elm were yet pouring out their liquid notes in the +gloaming.</p> +<img src="images/152a.gif" width="660" height="197" alt="Teepees" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="163">163</a></span> +"I wish I could be always here," said Yan, but he +started a little when he remembered how unwilling he +had been to come.</p> +<p> +There was a long silence as they lingered on the +darkening road. Each was thinking hard.</p> +<p> +A loud, startling but soft "Ohoo—O-hoo—O-hoooooo," +like the coo of a giant dove, now +sounded about their heads in a tree. They stopped +and Sam whispered, "Owl; big Hoot Owl." Yan's +heart leaped with pleasure. He had read all his life of +Owls, and even had seen them alive in cages, but this +was the first time he had ever heard the famous +hooting of the real live wild Owl, and it was a +delicious experience.</p> +<p> +The night was quite dark now, but there were +plenty of sounds that told of life. A Whippoorwill +was chanting in the woods, a hundred Toads and +Frogs creaked and trilled, a strange rolling, laughing +cry on a marshy pond puzzled them both, then a +Song Sparrow in the black night of a dense thicket +poured forth its sweet little sunshine song with all the +vigour and joy of its best daytime doing.</p> +<p> +They listened attentively for a repetition of the +serenade, when a high-pitched but not loud +"<i>Wa—wa—wa—wa—wa—wa—wa—wa</i>!" +reached their ears from a grove of heavy timbers.</p> +<p> +"Hear that?" exclaimed Sam.</p> +<p> +Again it came, a quavering squall, apparently +much nearer. It was a rather shrill sound, quite +unbirdy, and Sam whispered:</p> +<img src="images/153a.gif" width="660" height="207" alt="More Teepees" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="164">164</a></span> +"Coon—that's the whicker of a Coon. We can +come down here some time when corn's 'in roastin'' +an' have a Coon hunt."</p> +<p> +"Oh, Sam, wouldn't that be glorious!" said Yan. +"How I wish it was now. I never saw a Coon hunt +or any kind of a hunt. Do we have to wait till +'roasting-ear' time?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, yes; it's easier to find them then. You say +to your Coons, 'Me an' me dogs will meet you +to-night at the nearest roastin'-ear patch,' an' sure +nuff <i>they'll</i> keep the appointment."</p> +<p> +"But they're around now, for we just heard one, +<i>and there's another</i>."</p> +<p> +A long faint "<i>Lil—lil—lil—lil—lil—li-looo!</i>" now +sounded from the trees. It was like the other, but +much softer and sweeter.</p> +<p> +"There's where you fool yerself," replied Sam, "an' +there's where many a hunter is fooled. That last +one's the call of a Screech Owl. You see it's softer +and whistlier than the Coon whicker."</p> +<p> +They heard it again and again from the trees. It +was a sweet musical sound, and Yan remembered how +squally the Coon call was in comparison, and yet +many hunters never learn the difference.</p> +<p> +As they came near the tree whence the Owl called at +intervals, a gray blot went over their heads, shutting +out a handful of stars for a moment as it passed over +them, but making no noise. "There he goes," +whispered Sam. "That's the Screech Owl. Not +much of a screech, was it?" Not long afterward +Yan came across a line of Lowell's which says, "The +<span class="left"><a name="165">165</a></span> +song of the Screech Owl is the sweetest sound in +nature," and appreciated the absurdity of the name.</p> +<p> +"I want to go on a Coon hunt," continued Yan, +and the sentence was just tinged with the deep-laid +doggedness that was usually lost in his courteous +manner.</p> +<p> +"That settles it," answered the other, for he was +learning what that tone meant. "We'll surely go +when you talk that way, for, of coorse, it <i>kin</i> be done. +You see, I know more about animals than birds," he +continued. "I'm just as likely to be a dentist as a +hunter so far as serious business is concerned, but I'd +sure love to be a hunter for awhile, an' I made Da +promise to go with me some time. Maybe we kin get +a Deer by going back ten miles to the Long Swamp. +I only wish Da and Old Caleb hadn't fought, 'cause +Caleb sure knows the woods, an' that old Hound of his +has treed more Coons than ye could shake a stick at +in a month o' Sundays."</p> +<p> +"Well, if that's the only Coon dog around, I'm +going to get him. You'll see," was the reply.</p> +<p> +"I believe you will," answered Sam, in a tone of +mixed admiration and amusement.</p> +<p> +It was ten o'clock when they got home, and every +one was in bed but Mr. Raften. The boys turned in +at once, but next morning, on going to the barn, they +found that Si had not only sewed on and hemmed +the smoke-flaps, but had resewn the worst of the +patches and hemmed the whole bottom of the teepee +cover with a small rope in the hem, so that they were +<span class="left"><a name="166">166</a></span> +ready now for the pins and poles.</p> +<p> +The cover was taken at once to the camp ground. +Yan carried the axe. When they came to the brush +fence over the creek at the edge of the swamp, he +said:</p> +<p> +"Sam, I want to blaze that trail for old Caleb. +How do you do it?"</p> +<p> +"Spot the trees with the axe every few yards."</p> +<p> +"This way?" and Yan cut a tree in three places, +so as to show three white spots or blazes.</p> +<p> +"No; that's a trapper's blaze for a trap or a 'special +blaze,' but a 'road blaze' is one on the front of the +tree and one on the back—so—then ye can run the +trail both ways, an' you put them thicker if it's to +be followed at night."</p><br /> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch093.gif" width="310" height="195" alt="Teepee pattern" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="167">167</a></span> +<h3><a name="2VIII">VIII</a></h3> +<h3>The Sacred Fire</h3> + +<p> +"Ten strong poles and two long thin ones," said +Yan, reading off. These were soon cut and +brought to the camp ground.</p> +<p> +"Tie them together the same height as the teepee +cover——"</p> +<p> +"Tie them? With what?"</p> +<p> +"'Rawhide rope,' he said, but he also said 'Make +the cover of skins.' I'm afraid we shall have to use +common rope for the present," and Yan looked +a little ashamed of the admission.</p> +<p> +"I reckoned so," drawled Sam, "and so I put a +coil of quarter-inch in the cover, but I didn't dare +to tell you that up at the barn."</p> +<p> +The tripod was firmly lashed with the rope and set +up. Nine poles were duly leaned around in a twelve-foot +circle, for a teepee twelve feet high usually has +a twelve-foot base. A final lashing of the ropes +held these, and the last pole was then put up opposite +to the door, with the teepee cover tied to it at +the point between the flaps. The ends of the two +smoke-poles carried the cover round. Then the +<img src="images/sketch094.gif" alt="Blackfoot Teepee" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="148" height="173" border="0" /> +lacing-pins were needed. Yan tried to make them +of Hickory shoots, but the large, soft pith came just +where the point was needed. So Sam said, "You +<span class="left"><a name="168">168</a></span> +can't beat White Oak for pins." He cut a block +of White Oak, split it down the middle, then split +half of it in the middle again, and so on till it was +small enough to trim and finish with his knife. +Meanwhile Yan took the axe to split another, but +found that it ran off to one side instead of going +straight down the grain.</p> +<p> +"No good," was Sam's comment. "You must keep +<i>halving</i> each time or it will run out toward the +thin pieces. You want to split shingles all winter +to larn that."</p> +<p> +Ten pins were made eight inches long and a quarter +of an inch thick. They were used just like dressmakers' +stickpins, only the holes had to be made +first, and, of course, they looked better for being +regular. Thus the cover was laced on. The lack +of ground-pegs was then seen.</p> +<p> +"You make ten Oak pins a foot long and an inch +square, Sam. I've a notion how to fix them." Then +Yan cut ten pieces of the rope, each two feet long, +and made a hole about every three feet around the +base of the cover above the rope in the outer seam. +He passed one end of each short rope through this +and knotted it to the other end. Thus he had ten +peg-loops, and the teepee was fastened down and +looked like a glorious success.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch095.gif" width="148" height="170" alt="Piegan Teepee" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +Now came the grand ceremony of all, the lighting +of the first fire. The boys felt it to be a supreme +and almost a religious moment. It is curious to note +<span class="left"><a name="169">169</a></span> +that they felt very much as savages do under the +same circumstances—that the setting up of the new +teepee and lighting its first fire is an act of deep +significance, and to be done only with proper regard +for its future good luck.</p> +<p> +"Better go slow and sure about that fire. It'd +be awfully unlucky to have it fizzle for the first +time."</p> +<p> +"That's so," replied Yan, with the same sort of +superstitious dread. "Say, Sam, if we could really +light it with rubbing-sticks, wouldn't it be great?"</p> +<p> +"Hallo!"</p> +<p> +The boys turned, and there was Caleb close to +them. He came over and nodded. "Got yer +teepee, I see? Not bad, but what did ye face her +to the west fur?"</p> +<p> +"Fronting the creek," explained Yan.</p> +<p> +"I forgot to tell ye," said Caleb, "an Injun teepee +always fronts the east; first, that gives the morning +sun inside; next, the most wind is from the west, so +the smoke is bound to draw."</p> +<p> +"And what if the wind is right due east?" asked +Sam, "which it surely will be when it rains?"</p> +<p> +"And when the wind's east," continued Caleb, +addressing no one in particular, and not as though +in answer to a question, "ye lap the flaps across +each other tight in front, so," and he crossed his +hands over his chest. "That leaves the east side +high and shuts out the rain; if it don't draw then,<br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch096a.gif" width="392" height="144" alt="Three Teepees" border="0" /> +<br /><br /> +ye raise the bottom of the cover under the door just +a little—that always fetches her. An' when you +<span class="left"><a name="170">170</a></span> +change her round don't put her in under them +trees. Trees is dangerous; in a storm they draw +lightning, an' branches fall from them, an' after rain +they keep on dripping for an hour. Ye need all the +sun ye kin get on a teepee.</p> +<p> +"Did you ever see Indians bring fire out of two +sticks by rubbing, Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, yes. Most of the Injuns now carry matches, +but in the early days I seen it done often enough."</p> +<p> +"Does it take long? Is it hard?"</p> +<p> +"Not so long, and it's easy enough, when ye know +how."</p> +<p> +"My! I'd rather bring fire out of two sticks than +have a ten dollar bill," said Yan, with enthusiasm +that meant much, for one dollar was his high-water +mark of affluence, and this he had reached but once +in his life.</p> +<p> +"Oh, I dunno'; that depends," was Sam's more +guarded response.</p> +<p> +"Can <i>you</i> do it?" asked Yan.</p> +<p> +"Wall, yes, if I kin get the right stuff. Ye see, it +ain't every wood that will do it. It's got to be jest +right. The Plains Injuns use Cottonwood root, an' +the Mountain Injuns use Sage-brush root. I've seen +the Canadian Injuns use Basswood, Cedar and dry +White Pine, but the Chippewas mostly use Balsam +Fir. The easiest way is with a bow-drill. Have ye +any buckskin?"</p> +<p> +"No."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="171">171</a></span> +"Or a strip o' soft leather?"</p> +<p> +"I've got a leather shoe-lace," said Yan.</p> +<p> +"Rather slim; but we'll double it an' make it do. +A cord will answer, but it frays out so soon." +Caleb took the lace and the axe, then said, "Find me +a stone 'bout the size of an egg, with a little hole into +it—like a socket hole—'bout a quarter inch deep."</p> +<p> +The boys went to the creek to seek a stone and +Caleb went into the woods.</p> +<p> +They heard him chopping, and presently he came +back with a flat piece of very dry Balsam Fir, a +<img src="images/sketch097.gif" width="98" height="159" alt="Balsam Fir" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +fifteen-inch pin of the same, a stick about three feet +long, slightly bent, some dry Pine punk and some +dry Cedar.</p> +<p> +The pin was three-quarters of an inch thick and +was roughly eight-sided, "so the lace would grip." +It was pointed at both ends. He fastened the lace +to the bent stick like a bow-string, but loosely, so +that when it had one turn around the pin it was +quite tight. The flat piece of Balsam he trimmed +down to about half an inch thick. In the edge of +this he now cut a notch one-quarter inch wide and +half an inch deep, then on the top of this fire-board +or block, just beyond the notch, he made with the +point of his knife a little pit.</p> +<p> +He next scraped and shredded a lot of dry Cedar +wood like lint. Then making a hole half an inch +deep in the ground, he laid in that a flat piece of +Pine punk, and across this he set the fire-board. +The point of the pin or drill was put in the pit of +the fire-board, which he held down with one foot; +<span class="left"><a name="172">172</a></span> +the lace was given one turn on the pin, and its top +went into the hole of the stone the boys brought. +The stone was held firmly in Caleb's left hand.</p> +<p> +"Sometimes," he remarked, "when ye can't +find a stone, a Pine knot will do—ye kin make the +socket-hole with a knife-point."</p> +<p> +Now holding the bow in his right hand, he began +to draw it back and forth with long, steady strokes, +causing the pin to whirl round in the socket. Within +a few seconds a brown powder began to run out of +the notch of the fire-board onto the punk. The +pit increased in size and blackened, the powder +darkened, and a slight smoke arose from the pit. +Caleb increased the pressure of his left hand a little, +and sawed faster with the right. The smoke steadily +increased and the black powder began to fill the notch. +The smoke was rolling in little clouds from under +the pin, and it even seemed to come from the heap +of powder. As soon as he saw that, Caleb dropped +the bow and gently fanned the powder heap. It +still smoked. He removed the fire-board, and lifting +the punk, showed the interior of the powder to be +one glowing coal. On this he laid the Cedar tinder +and over that a second piece of punk. Then raising +it, he waved it in the air and blew gently for awhile. +It smouldered and then burst into a flame. The +other material was handy, and in a very short time +they had a blazing fire in the middle of the new +teepee.</p> +<p class="center"><span class="left"><a name="174">174</a></span> +<img src="images/sketch098a.jpg" width="576" height="363" alt="The Rubbing-Sticks for Fire-Making" border="0" /></p> +<h4>THE RUBBING-STICKS FOR FIRE-MAKING (See Description Below)</h4><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="175">175</a></span> +All three were pictures of childish delight. The +old man's face fairly beamed with triumph. Had +he failed in his experiment he would have gone off +hating those boys, but having made a brilliant +success he was ready to love every one concerned, +though they had been nothing more than interested +spectators of his exploit.</p> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch099.gif" width="221" height="168" alt="The Sacred Fire" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /> + +<h5>RUBBING-STICKS FOR FIRE-MAKING</h5> +<span class="note"> +Two tools and two sticks are needed. The tools are bow and drill-socket; the sticks are drill and fire-board.<br /><br /> + +1. The simplest kind of bow—a bent stick with a stout leather thong fastened at each end. The stick must not +spring. It is about 27 inches long and 5/8 inch thick.<br /><br /> + +2. A more elaborate bow with a hole at each end for the thong. At the handle end it goes through a disc of wood. +This is to tighten the thong by pressure of the hand against the disc while using.<br /><br /> + +3. Simplest kind of drill-socket—a pine or hemlock knot with a shallow hole or pit in it. 3<i>a</i> is under view of same. +It is about 4½ inches long.<br /><br /> + +4. A more elaborate drill-socket—a pebble cemented with gum in a wooden holder. 4<i>a</i> is under view of same.<br /><br /> + +5. A very elaborate drill-socket; it is made of tulip wood, carved to represent the Thunderbird. It has eyes of +green felspar cemented in with resin. On the under side (5<i>a</i>) is seen, in the middle, a soapstone socket let into +the wood and fastened with pine gum, and on the head a hole kept filled with grease, to grease the top of the +drill before use.<br /><br /> + +6. The drill, 12 to 18 inches long and about ¾ of an inch thick; it is roughly 8-sided so the thong will not slip, +pointed at each end. The best wood for the drill is old, dry, brash, but not punky balsam fir or cotton-wood +roots; but basswood, white cedar, red cedar, tamarack, and sometimes even white pine, will do.<br /><br /> + +7. Fire-board or block, about ¾ of an inch thick and any length handy; <i>a</i> is notch with pit just below +shows the pit after once using and in good trim for a second time; <i>c</i> shows the pit bored through and +useless; the notch is ½ inch wide and ¾ inch deep.<br /><br /> + +8. Shows the way of using the sticks. The block (<i>a</i>) is held down with one foot, the end of the drill +in the pit, the drill-socket (<i>c</i>) is held on top in left hand, one end of the bow (<i>d</i> ) is held in the right hand +the bow is drawn back and forth.<br /><br /> + +9. Is a little wooden fire-pan, not essential but convenient; its thin edge is put under the notch to catch the +powder that falls.</span> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="176">176</a></span> +<h3><a name="2IX">IX</a></h3> +<h3>The Bows and Arrows</h3> + +<p> +"I don't think much of your artillery," said Yan +one day as they were shooting in the orchard +with Sam's "Western outfit." "It's about like +the first one I made when I was young."</p> +<p> +"Well, grandpa, let's see your up-to-date make?"</p> +<p> +"It'd be about five times as strong, for one thing."</p> +<p> +"You couldn't pull it."</p> +<p> +"Not the way you hold the arrow! But last +winter I got a book about archery from the library +and learned something worth while. You pinch +the arrow that way and you can draw six or eight +pounds, maybe, but you hook your fingers in the +string—so—and you can draw five times as much, +and that's the right way to shoot."</p> +<p> +"Feels mighty clumsy," said Sam, trying it.</p> +<p> +"Of course it does at first, and you have to have +a deep notch in the arrow or you can't do it at all."</p> +<p> +"You don't seem to manage any better than I +do."</p> +<p> +"First time I ever had a chance to try since I +read about it. But I want to make a first-class +bow and a lot of arrows. It's not much good going +with <i>one</i>."</p> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch100.gif" width="199" height="139" alt="The Archer's Grip" border="0" /></p> +<br /> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="177">177</a></span> +"Well, go ahead an' make an outfit if you know +how. What's the best wood? Did the book tell +you that?"</p> +<p> +"The best wood is Spanish Yew."</p> +<p> +"Don't know it."</p> +<p> +"An' the next is Oregon Yew."</p> +<p> +"Nope."</p> +<p> +"Then Lancewood and Osage Orange."</p> +<p> +'Try again."</p> +<p> +"Well, Red Cedar, Apple tree, Hickory and Elm +seem to be the only ones that grow around here."</p> +<p> +"Hain't seen any <i>Red</i> Cedar, but the rest is easy."</p> +<p> +"It has to be thoroughly seasoned winter-cut wood, +and cut so as to have heart on one side and sap wood +on the other."</p> +<p> +"How's that?" and Sam pointed to a lot of half-round +Hickory sticks on the rafters of the log house. +"Those have been there a couple of years."</p> +<p> +A good one of five feet long was selected and split +and hewn with the axe till the boys had the two bow +staves, five and one-half feet long and two inches +square, with the line of the heart and sap wood down +the middle of each.</p> +<p> +Guided by his memory of that precious book and +some English long bows that he had seen in a shop in +town, Yan superintended the manufacture. Sam +was apt with tools, and in time they finished two bows, +five feet long and drawing possibly twenty-five pounds +each. In the middle they were one and one-half +inches wide and an inch thick (see page 183). This +size they kept for nine inches each way, making an +<span class="left"><a name="178">178</a></span> +eighteen-inch middle part that did not bend, but +their two limbs were shaved down and scraped with +glass till they bent evenly and were well within the +boys' strength.</p> +<p> +The string was the next difficulty. All the ordinary +string they could get around the house proved too +weak, never lasting more than two or three shots, till +Si Lee, seeing their trouble, sent them to the cobbler's +for a hank of unbleached linen thread and some shoemaker's +wax. Of this thread he reeled enough for a +strong cord tight around two pegs seven feet apart, +then cutting it loose at one end he divided it equally +in three parts, and, after slight waxing, he loosely +plaited them together. At Yan's suggestion he then +spliced a loop at one end, and with a fine waxed +thread lashed six inches of the middle where the +arrow fitted, as well as the splice of the loop. +This last enabled them to unstring the bow when +not in use (see page 183). "There," said he, "you +won't break that." The finishing touch was thinly +coating the bows with some varnish found among the +paint supplies.</p> +<p> +"Makes my old bow look purty sick," remarked +Sam, as he held up the really fine new weapon in +contrast with the wretched little hoop that had +embodied his early ideas. "Now what do you know +about arrers, mister?" as he tried his old arrow in the +new bow.</p> +<p> +"I know that that's no good," was the reply; "an' +I can tell you that it's a deal harder to make an arrow +<span class="left"><a name="179">179</a></span> +than a bow—that is, a good one."</p> +<p> +"That's encouraging, considering the trouble we've +had already."</p> +<p> +"'Tisn't meant to be, but we ought to have a dozen +arrows each."</p> +<p> +"How do the Injuns make them?"</p> +<p> +"Mostly they get straight sticks of the Arrow-wood; +but I haven't seen any Arrow-wood here, +and they're not so awfully straight. You see, an +arrow must be straight or it'll fly crooked. 'Straight +as an arrow' means the thing itself. We can do +better than the Indians 'cause we have better +tools. We can split them out of the solid wood."</p> +<p> +"What wood? Some bloomin' foreign kind that no +White-man never saw nor heard of before?"</p> +<p> +"No sir-ree. There ain't anything better 'n White +Pine for target and Ash or Hickory for hunting +arrows. Which are we making?"</p> +<p> +"I'm a hunter. Give me huntin' arrows every +time. What's needed next?"</p> +<p> +"Seasoned Ash twenty-five inches long, split to +three-eighths of an inch thick, hot glue, and turkey-wing +feathers."</p> +<p> +"I'll get the feathers and let you do the rest," said +Sam, producing a bundle of turkey-wings, laid away +as stove-dusters, and then belied his own statement +by getting a block of Ash and splitting it up, halving +it each time till he had a pile of two dozen straight +sticks about three-quarters of an inch thick.</p> +<img src="images/sketch101.gif" width="171" height="308" alt="Arrowwood" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="180">180</a></span> +Yan took one and began with his knife to whittle it +down to proper size and shape, but Sam said, "I can +do better than that," then took the lot to the workbench +and set to work with a smoothing plane. Yan +looked worried and finally said:</p> +<p> +"Injuns didn't have planes."</p> +<p> +"Nor jack-knives neither," was the retort.</p> +<p> +That was true, and yet somehow Yan's ideal that +he hankered after was the pre-Columbian Indian, the +one who had no White-man's help or tools.</p> +<p> +"It seems to me it'd be more Injun to make these +with just what we get in the woods. The Injuns +didn't have jack-knives, but they had sharp flints in +the old days."</p> +<p> +"Yan, you go ahead with a sharp stone. You'll +find lots on the road if you take off your shoes and +walk barefoot—awful sharp; an' I'll go ahead with +the smoothing plane an' see who wins."</p> +<p> +Yan was not satisfied, but he contented himself +with promising that he would some day make some +arrows of Arrow-wood shoots and now he would finish +at least one with his knife. He did so, but Sam, +in the meantime, made six much better ones with +the smoothing plane.</p> +<p> +"What about heads?" said he.</p> +<p> +"I've been thinking," was the reply. "Of course +the Indians used stone heads fastened on with sinew, +but we haven't got the stuff to do that. Bought +heads of iron with a ferrule for the end of the arrow +are best, but we can't get them. Bone heads and +horn heads will do. I made some fine ones once filing +<span class="left"><a name="181">181</a></span> +bones into the shape, but they were awfully brittle; +and I made some more of big nails cut off and set in +with a lashing of fine wire around the end to stop the +wood splitting. Some Indian arrows have no point +but the stick sharpened after it's scorched to +harden it."</p><br /><br /> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch102.gif" width="409" height="176" alt="Six Sample Arrows, Showing Different Feathers" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /> +<p> +"That sounds easy enough for me," said Sam; +"let's make some of them that way."</p> +<p> +So the arrows were made, six each with nail points +filed sharp and lashed with broom wire. These were +called "War arrows," and six each with fire-hardened +wood points for hunting arrows.</p> +<p> +"Now for the feathering," and Yan showed Sam +how to split the midrib of a turkey feather and +separate the vane.</p> +<p> +"Le's see, you want twice twenty-four—that's +forty-eight feathers."</p> +<p> +"No," said Yan, "that's a poor feathering, two on +each. We want three on each arrow—seventy-two +strips in all, and mind you, we want all three +that are on one arrow from the same side of +the bird."</p> +<p> +"I know. I'll bet it's bad luck to mix sides; +arrows doesn't know which way to turn."</p> +<p> +At this moment Si Lee came in. "How are ye +gettin' on with the bows?"</p> +<p> +"Waitin' for arrows now."</p> +<p> +"How do ye put on the feathers?"</p> +<p> +"White-men glue them on, and Injuns lash them +on," replied Yan, quoting from memory from "that +<span class="left"><a name="182">182</a></span> +book."</p><br /><br /> + +<h5>DESCRIPTION OF SIX SAMPLE ARROWS SHOWING DIFFERENT FEATHERS</h5> +<span class="note"> +<i>A</i> is a far-flying steel-pointed bobtail, very good in wind. <br /><br /> +<i>B</i> is another very good arrow, with a horn point. +This went even better than <i>A</i> if there were no wind. <br /><br /> +<i>C</i> is an Omaha war and deer arrow. Both heads and feathers +are lashed on with sinew. The long tufts of down left on the feathers are to help in finding it again, as they are +snow-white and wave in the breeze. The grooves on the shaft are to make the victim bleed more freely and be +more easily tracked. <br /><br /> +<i>D</i> is another Omaha arrow with a peculiar owner's mark of lines carved in the middle, <br /><br /> +<i>E</i> is +a bone-headed bird shaft made by the Indians of the Mackenzie River. <br /><br /> +<i>F</i> is a war arrow made by Geronimo, the +famous Apache chief. Its shaft is three joints of a straight cane. The tip is of hard wood, and on that is a fine +quartz point; all being lashed together with sinew. +</span><br /><br /><br /> +<hr class="medium" /> +<br /> +<p> +"Which is best?"</p> +<p> +"Glued on flies better, but lashed on stands the +weather better."</p> +<p> +"Why not both?"</p> +<p> +"Have no sinew."</p> +<p> +"Let me show ye a trick. Where's yer glue an' +linen thread?"</p> +<p> +These were brought, whereupon Si added: "'Pears +to me ye oughter put the feathers on last. Better +cut the notch first."</p> +<p> +"That's so; we nearly forgot."</p> +<p> +"<i>You</i> nearly forgot, you mean. Don't drag <i>me</i> in +the mud," said Sam, with owlish dignity. A small +saw cut, cleaned up and widened with a penknife, +proved the best; a notch one-fourth inch deep was +quickly made in each arrow, and Si set about <i>both +</i> glueing <i>and</i> lashing on the feathers, but using wax-end +instead of sinew.</p> +<p> +Yan had marked the place for each feather so that +none would strike the bow in passing (see Cut page 183). +He first glued them on, then made a lashing for half an +inch on the projecting ends of the feather-rib, and +another behind, carrying this second lashing back to +the beginning of the notch to guard against the wood +splitting. When he had trimmed all loose ends and +rolled the waxed thread well on the bench with a flat +stick, the threads seemed to disappear and leave +simply a smooth black ring.</p><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="183">183</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch103.jpg" width="608" height="355" alt="The Archery Outfit" border="0" /></p> +<h5>THE ARCHERY OUTFIT (Not all on scale)</h5> +<span class="note"> +I. The five-foot bow as finished, with sections at the points shown.<br /><br /> + +II. The bow "braced" or strung.<br /><br /> + +III. The bow unstrung, showing the loop slipped down.<br /><br /> + +IV. The loop that is used on the upper end of the bow.<br /><br /> + +V. The timber hitch always used on the lower end or notch of the bow.<br /><br /> + +VI. A turkey feather with split midrib, all ready to lash on.<br /><br /> + +VII. End view of arrow, showing notch and arrangement of three feathers.<br /><br /> + +VIII. Part of arrow, showing feathering and lashing.<br /><br /> + +IX. Sanger hunting arrow with wooden point; 25 inches long.<br /><br /> + +X. Sanger war arrow with nail point and extra long feathers; it also is + 25 inches long.<br /><br /> + +XI. Quiver with Indian design; 20 inches long.<br /><br /> + +XII. The "bracer" or arm guard of heavy leather for left arm, with two +laces to tie it on. It is six inches long.]</span> +<br /><br /> + <hr class="medium" /><br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="185">185</a></span> +Thus the arrows were made and set away for the +glue to dry.</p> +<p> +Next day Yan painted Sam's red and blue, his own +red and white, to distinguish them as well as guard +them from the damp. There was now one more thing, +and that was a quiver.</p> +<p> +"Do the Injuns have them?" asked Sam, with a +keen eye to orthodoxy when it promised to cut short +the hard work.</p> +<p> +"Well, I should say so; couldn't live without them."</p> +<p> +"All right; hurry up. I'm spoiling for a hunt. +What are they made of?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, 'most anything."</p> +<p> +"Haven't got it."</p> +<p> +"You're too fast. But some use Birch bark, some +use the skin of an animal, and some use canvas now +when other stuff is scarce."</p> +<p> +"That's us. You mind the stuff left off the +teepee?"</p> +<p> +"Do till we get better." So each made a sort of +canvas bag shorter than the arrows. Yan painted +an Indian device on each, and they were ready.</p> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch104.gif" width="336" height="196" alt="Omaha Bow Case and Quiver of Buckskin and Quillwork" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /> +<p> +"Now bring on your Bears," said the older boy, and +feeling a sense of complete armament, they went out.</p> +<p> +"See who can hit that tree." Both fired together +and missed, but Sam's arrow struck another tree and +split open.</p> +<p> +"Guess we'd better get a soft target," he remarked. +Then after discussion they got a large old corn sack +full of hay, painted on it some rings around a bull's +<span class="left"><a name="186">186</a></span> +eye (a Buffalo's eye, Sam called it) and set it up at +twenty yards.</p> +<p> +They were woefully disappointed at first in their +shooting. It did seem a very easy mark, and it was +disappointing to have the arrows fly some feet away +to the left.</p> +<p> +"Le's get in the barn and shoot at that," suggested +Sam.</p> +<p> +"We might hit it if we shut the door tight," was +the optimistic reply. As well as needing practice, +the boys had to learn several little rules about +Archery. But Yan had some pencil notes from +"that book" and some more in his brain that with +much practice gradually taught him: To stand +with his heel centres in line with the target; his +right elbow in line with the arrow; his left hand +fixed till the arrow struck; his right thumb always +on the same place on his cheek when he fired, and +the bow plumb.</p> +<p> +They soon found that they needed guards for the +left arm where the bow strings struck, and these they +made out of the leg of an old boot (see Cut page 183), +and an old glove to protect the fingers of the right hand +when they practised very much. After they learned +to obey the rules without thinking about them, the +boys improved quickly and soon they were able to put +all the arrows into the hay sack at twenty yards, +increasing the distance later till they could make fair +shooting at forty yards.</p> +<p> +They were not a little surprised to find how much +individuality the arrows had, although meant to be +<span class="left"><a name="187">187</a></span> +exactly alike.</p> +<p> +Sam had one that continued to warp until it was +much bent, and the result was some of the most +surprising curves in its flight. This he called the +"Boomerang." Another, with a very small feather, +travelled farther than any of the rest. This was +the "Far-killer." His best arrow, one that he called +"Sure-death," was a long-feathered Turkey shaft +with a light head. It was very reliable on a calm +day, but apt to swerve in the wind. Yet another, +with a small feather, was correspondingly reliable +on a windy day. This was "Wind-splitter."</p> +<p> +The one Yan whittled with the knife was called +the "Whittler," and sometimes the "Joker." It +was a perpetual mystery, they never knew just what +it would do next. His particular pet was one with +a hollow around the point, which made a whistling +sound when it flew, and was sometimes called the +"Whistler" and sometimes the "Jabberwock," "which +whiffled through the tulgy wood and burbled as it +came." +<img src="images/sketch105.gif" alt="Correct Form In Shooting" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="159" height="332" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<h5>CORRECT FORM IN SHOOTING</h5> +<p> +The diagram at bottom is to show the centres of heels in line with target. +</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="188">188</a></span> +<h3><a name="2X">X</a></h3> +<h3>The Dam</h3> + +<p> +One hot day early in July they were enjoying +themselves in the shallow bathing-hole of the +creek, when Sam observed: "It's getting low. +It goes dry every summer."</p> +<p> +This was not pleasing to foresee, and Yan said, +"Why can't we make a dam?"</p> +<p> +"A little too much like work."</p> +<p> +"Oh, pshaw! That'd be fun and we'd have a +swimming-place for all summer, then. Come on; +let's start now."</p> +<p> +"Never heard of Injuns doing so much work."</p> +<p> +"Well, we'll play Beaver while we do it. Come +on, now; here's for a starter," and Yan carried a +big stone to what seemed to him the narrowest +place. Then he brought more, and worked with +enthusiasm till he had a line of stones right across +the creek bed.</p> +<p> +Sam still sat naked on the bank, his knees to his +chin and his arms around them. The war-paint was +running down his chest in blue and red streaks.</p> +<p> +"Come on, here, you lazy freak, and work," cried +Yan, and flung a handful of mud to emphasize the +invite.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="189">189</a></span> +"My festered knee's broke out again," was the +reply.</p> +<p> +At length Yan said, "I'm not going to do it all +alone," and straightened up his back.</p> +<p> +"Look a-here," was the answer. "I've been +thinking. The cattle water here. The creek runs +dry in summer, then the cattle has to go to the barnyard +and drink at the trough—has to be pumped +for, and hang round for hours after hoping some one +will give them some oats, instead of hustling back +to the woods to get fat. Now, two big logs across +there would be more'n half the work. I guess we'll +ask Da to lend us the team to put them logs across +to make a drinking-pond for the cattle. Them +cattle is awful on my mind. Didn't sleep all night +thinking o' them. I just hate like pizen to see them +walking all the way to the barn in hot weather for +a drink—'tain't right." So Sam waited for a proper +chance to "tackle" his father. It did not come that +day, but at breakfast next morning Raften looked +straight at Yan across the table, and evidently +thinking hard about something, said:</p> +<p> +"Yahn, this yer room is twenty foot by fifteen, +how much ilecloth three foot wide will it call fur?"</p> +<p> +"Thirty-three and one-third yards," Yan said at +once.</p> +<p> +Raften was staggered. Yan's manner was convincing, +but to do all that in his head was the miracle. +Various rude tests were applied and the general +opinion prevailed that Yan was right.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="190">190</a></span> +The farmer's face beamed with admiration for +the first time. "Luk at that," he said to the table, +"luk at that fur eddication. When'll you be able +to do the like?" he said to Sam.</p> +<p> +"Never," returned his son, with slow promptness. +"Dentists don't have to figger on ilecloth."</p> +<p> +"Say, Yan," said Sam aside, "guess <i>you</i> better +tackle Da about the dam. Kind o' sot up about ye +this mornin'; your eddication has softened him some, +an' it'll last till about noon, I jedge. Strike while +the iron is hot."</p> +<p> +So after breakfast Yan commenced:</p> +<p> +"Mr. Raften, the creek's running dry. We want +to make a pond for the cattle to drink, but we can't +make a dam without two big logs across. Will you +let us have the team a few minutes to place the +logs?"</p> +<p> +"It ain't fur a swimmin'-pond, is it, ye mean?" +said Raften, with a twinkle in his eye.</p> +<p> +"It would do for that as well," and Yan blushed.</p> +<p> +"Sounds to me like Sam talking through Yan's +face," added Raften, shrewdly taking in the situation. +"I'll see fur meself."</p> +<p> +Arrived at the camp, he asked: "Now, whayer's +yer dam to be? Thar? That's no good. It's +narrer but it'd be runnin' round both ends afore ye +had any water to speak of. Thayer's a better +place, a bit wider, but givin' a good pond. Whayer's +yer logs? Thayer? What—my seasoning timber? +Ye can't hev that. That's the sill fur the new barrn; +nor that—it's seasonin' fur gate posts. Thayer's two +<span class="left"><a name="191">191</a></span> +ye kin hev. I'll send the team, but don't let me +ketch ye stealin' any o' my seasonin' timber or the +fur'll fly."</p> +<p> +With true Raften promptness the heavy team +came, the two great logs were duly dragged across +and left as Yan requested (four feet apart for the top +of the dam).</p> +<img src="images/180b.gif" width="360" height="205" alt="Cross-section of dam" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p> +The boys now drove in a row of stakes against each +log on the inner side, to form a crib, and were beginning +to fill in the space with mud and stones. They were +digging and filling it up level as they went. Clay +was scarce and the work went slowly; the water, +of course, rising as the wall arose, added to the difficulty. +But presently Yan said:</p> +<p> +"Hold on. New scheme. Let's open her and dig +a deep trench on one side so all the water will go by, +then leave a clay wall to it" [the trench] "and dig a +deep hole on the other side of it. That will give us +plenty of stuff for the dam and help to deepen the +pond."</p> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch107.gif" width="488" height="196" alt="Construction of the Dam" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Thus they worked. In a week the crib was full of +packed clay and stone. Then came the grand finish +—the closing of this sluiceway through the dam. +It was not easy with the full head of water running, +but they worked like beavers and finally got it +stopped.</p> +<p> +That night there was a heavy shower. Next day +when they came near they heard a dull roar in the +woods. They stopped and listened in doubt, then +Yan exclaimed gleefully: "The dam! That's the +<span class="left"><a name="192">192</a></span> +water running over the dam."</p> +<p> +They both set off with a yell and ran their fastest. +As soon as they came near they saw a great sheet +of smooth water where the stony creek bottom had +been and a steady current over the low place left +as an overflow in the middle of the dam.</p> +<p> +What a thrill of pleasure that was!</p> +<p> +"Last in's a dirty sucker."</p> +<p> +"Look out for my bad knee," was the response.</p> +<p> +The rest of the race was a mixture of stripping and +sprinting and the boys splashed in together.</p> +<p> +Five feet deep in the deep hole, a hundred yards +long, and all their own doing.</p> +<p> +"Now, wasn't it worth it?" asked Yan, who had +had much difficulty in keeping Sam steadily at play +that looked so very much like work.</p> +<p> +"Wonder how that got here? I thought I left +that in the teepee?" and Sam pointed to a log that +he used for a seat in the teepee, but now it was +lodged in the overflow.</p> +<p> +Yan was a good swimmer, and as they played and +splashed, Sam said: "Now I know who you are. +You can't hide it from me no longer. I suspicioned +it when you were working on the dam. You're +that tarnal Redskin they call 'Little Beaver.'"</p> +<p> +"I've been watching you," retorted Yan, "and it +seems to me I've run up against that copper-coloured +scallawag—'Young-Man-Afraid-of-a-<a name="9">Shovel</a>.'"</p> +<span class="left"><a name="193">193</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus09a.jpg" width="640" height="459" alt="The dam was a great success" border="0" /> +</p> +<p> +"No, you don't," said Sam. "Nor I ain't '<i>Bald- +Eagle-Settin'-on-a-Rock-with-his-Tail-Hangin'-over-the</i> +<span class="left"><a name="195">195</a></span> +<i>-Edge,'</i> nuther. In fact, I don't keer to be recognized +just now. Ain't it a relief to think the cattle +don't have to take that walk any more?"</p> +<p> +Sam was evidently trying to turn the subject, but +Yan would not be balked. "I heard Si call you +'Woodpecker' the other day."</p> +<p> +"Yep. I got that at school. When I was a kid +to hum I heerd Ma talk about me be-a-u-tiful <i>golden +</i> hair, but when I got big enough to go to school I +learned that it was only <i>red</i>, an' they called me the +'Red-headed Woodpecker.' I tried to lick them, +but lots of them could lick me an' rubbed it in wuss. +When I seen fightin' didn't work, I let on to like it, +but it was too late then. Mostly it's just 'Woodpecker' +for short. I don't know as it ever lost me +any sleep."</p> +<p> +Half an hour later, as they sat by the fire that Yan +made with rubbing-sticks, he said, "Say, Woodpecker, +I want to tell you a story." Sam grimaced, +pulled his ears forward, and made ostentatious +preparations to listen.</p> +<p> +"There was once an Indian squaw taken prisoner +by some other tribe way up north. They marched +her 500 miles away, but one night she escaped and +set out, not on the home trail, for she knew they +would follow that way and kill her, but to one side. +She didn't know the country and got lost. She had +no weapons but a knife, and no food but berries. +Well, she travelled fast for several days till a rainstorm +came, then she felt safe, for she knew her +enemies could not trail her now. But winter was +<span class="left"><a name="196">196</a></span> +near and she could not get home before it came. So +she set to work right where she was.</p> +<p> +"She made a wigwam of Birch bark and a fire +with rubbing-sticks, using the lace of her moccasin +for a bow-string. She made snares of the inner +bark of the Willow and of Spruce roots, and deadfalls, +too, for Rabbits. She was starving sometimes, +at first, but she ate the buds and inner +bark of Birch trees till she found a place where +there were lots of Rabbits. And when she +caught some she used every scrap of them. She +made a fishing-line of the sinews, and a hook of the +bones and teeth lashed together with sinew and +Spruce gum.</p> +<p> +"She made a cloak of Rabbit skins, sewed with +needles of Rabbit bone and thread of Rabbit sinew, +and a lot of dishes of Birch bark sewed with Spruce +roots.</p> +<p> +"She put in the whole winter there alone, and +when the spring came she was found by Samuel +Hearne, the great traveller. Her precious knife was +worn down, but she was fat and happy and ready to +set out for her own people."</p> +<p> +"Well, I say that's mighty inter-est-in'," said +Sam—he had listened attentively—"an' I'd like +nothin' better than to try it myself if I had a gun an' +there was lots of game."</p> +<p> +"Pooh, who wouldn't?"</p> +<p> +"Mighty few—an' there's mighty few who <i>could</i>."<br /> +"I could."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="197">197</a></span> +"What, make everything with just a knife? I'd +like to see you make a teepee," then adding earnestly, +"Sam, we've been kind o' playing Injuns; now let's +do it properly. Let's make everything out of what +we find in the woods."</p> +<p> +"Guess we'll have to visit the Sanger Witch again. +She knows all about plants."</p> +<p> +"We'll be the Sanger Indians. We can both be +Chiefs," said Yan, not wishing to propose himself as +Chief or caring to accept Sam as his superior. "I'm +Little Beaver. Now what are you?"</p> +<p> +"Bloody-Thundercloud-in-the-Afternoon."</p> +<p> +"No, try again. Make it something you can draw, +so you can make your totem, and make it short."</p> +<p> +"What's the smartest animal there is?"</p> +<p> +"I—I—suppose the Wolverine."</p> +<p> +"What! Smarter'n a Fox?"</p> +<p> +"The books say so."</p> +<p> +"Kin he lick a Beaver?"</p> +<p> +"Well, I should say so."</p> +<p> +"Well, that's me."</p> +<p> +"No, you don't. I'm not going around with a +fellow that licks me. It don't fit you as well as +'Woodpecker,' anyhow. I always get <i>you</i> when I +want a nice tree spoiled or pecked into holes," +retorted Yan, magnanimously ignoring the personal +reason for the name.</p> +<p> +"Tain t as bad as <i>beavering</i>," answered Sam.</p> +<img src="images/sketch108.gif" alt="Beavering" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="233" height="165" border="0" /> + +<p> +"Beavering" was a word with a history. Axes and +timber were the biggest things in the lives of the +Sangerites. Skill with the axe was the highest accomplishment. +<span class="left"><a name="198">198</a></span> +The old settlers used to make everything +in the house out of wood, and with the axe for the only +tool. It was even said that some of them used to +"edge her up a bit" and shave with her on Sundays. +When a father was setting his son up in life he gave +him simply a good axe. The axe was the grand +essential of life and work, and was supposed to be a +whole outfit. Skill with the axe was general. Every +man and boy was more or less expert, and did not +know how expert he was till a real "greeny" came +among them. There is a right way to cut for each +kind of grain, and a certain proper way of felling a +tree to throw it in any given direction with the +minimum of labour. All these things are second +nature to the Sangerite. A Beaver is credited with a +haphazard way of gnawing round and round a tree till +somehow it tumbles, and when a chopper deviates +in the least from the correct form, the exact right cut +in the exact right place, he is said to be "beavering"; +therefore, while "working like a Beaver" is high praise, +"beavering" a tree is a term of unmeasured reproach, +and Sam's final gibe had point and force that none +but a Sangerite could possibly have appreciated.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="199">199</a></span> +<h3><a name="2XI">XI</a></h3> +<h3>Yan and the Witch</h3> + +<p class="indent"> +The Sanger Witch hated the Shanty-man's axe<br /> + And wildfire, too, they tell,<br /> +But the hate that she had for the Sporting man<br /> + Was wuss nor her hate of Hell!</p> +<p class="indent2"> +—Cracked Jimmie's Ballad of Sanger. +</p> + +<p> +Yan took his earliest opportunity to revisit the +Sanger Witch.</p> +<p> +"Better leave me out," advised Sam, when +he heard of it. "She'd never look at you if I went. +You look too blame healthy."</p> +<p> +So Yan went alone, and he was glad of it. Fond +as he was of Sam, his voluble tongue and ready wit +left Yan more or less in the shade, made him look +sober and dull, and what was worse, continually +turned the conversation just as it was approaching +some subject that was of deepest interest to him.</p> +<p> +As he was leaving, Sam called out, "Say, Yan, +if you want to stay there to dinner it'll be all right— +we'll know why you hain't turned up." Then he +stuck his tongue in his cheek, closed one eye and went +to the barn with his usual expression of inscrutable +melancholy.</p> +<p> +Yan carried his note-book—he used it more and +more, also his sketching materials. On the road he +<span class="left"><a name="200">200</a></span> +gathered a handful of flowers and herbs. His reception +by the old woman was very different this time.</p> +<p> +"Come in, come in, God bless ye, an' hoo air ye, +an' how is yer father an' mother—come in an' set +down, an' how is that spalpeen, Sam Raften?"</p> +<p> +"Sam's all right now," said Yan with a blush.</p> +<p> +"All right! Av coorse he's all right. I knowed I'd +fix him all right, an' he knowed it, an' his Ma knowed +it when she let him come. Did she say onything +about it?"</p> +<p> +"No, Granny, not a word."</p> +<p> +"The dhirty hussy! Saved the boy's life in sphite +of their robbin' me an' she ain't human enough to +say 'thank ye'—the dhirty hussy! May God forgive +her as I do," said the old woman with evident and +implacable enmity.</p> +<p> +"Fwhat hev ye got thayer? Hivin be praised, they +can't kill them all off. They kin cut down the trees, +but the flowers comes ivery year, me little beauties—me +little beauties!" Yan spread them out. She +picked up an Arum and went on. "Now, that's +Sorry-plant, only some calls it Injun Turnip, an' I +hear the childer call it Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Don't ye +never put the root o' that near yer tongue. It'll sure +burn ye like fire. First thing whin they gits howld +av a greeny the bhise throis to make him boite that +same. Shure he niver does it twicet. The Injuns +b'ile the pizen out o' the root an' ates it; shure +it's better'n starvin'."</p> +<img src="images/sketch109.gif" width="148" height="180" alt="Sorry Plant, Jack-in-a-Pulpit" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="201">201</a></span> +Golden Seal (<i>Hydrastis canadensis</i>), the plant she +had used for Sam's knee, was duly recognized and +praised, its wonderful golden root, "the best goold +iver came out av the ground," was described with its +impression of the seal of the Wise King.</p> +<p> +"Thim's Mandrakes, an' they're moighty late, an' +ye shure got <i>thim</i> in the woods. Some calls it May +Apples, an' more calls it Kingroot. The Injuns use +it fur their bowels, an' it has cured many a horse of +pole evil that I seen meself.</p> +<p> +"An' Blue Cohosh, only I call that Spazzum-root. +Thayer ain't nothin' like it fur spazzums—took like +tay; only fur that the Injun women wouldn't live in +all their thrubles, but that's something that don't +consarn ye. Luk now, how the laves is all spread out +like wan wid spazzums. Glory be to the Saints and the +Blessed Virgin, everything is done fur us on airth an' +plain marked, if we'd only take the thruble to luk.</p> +<p> +"Now luk at thot," said she, clawing over the bundle +and picking out a yellow Cypripedium, "that's Moccasin-plant +wid the Injuns, but mercy on 'em +fur bloind, miserable haythens. They don't know +nothin' an' don't want to larn it. That's Umbil, or +Sterrick-root. It's powerful good fur sterricks. Luk +at it! See the face av a woman in sterricks wid her +hayer flyin' an' her jaw a-droppin'. I moind the +toime Larry's little gurrl didn't want to go to her +'place' an' hed sterricks. They jest sent fur me an' +I brung along a Sterrick-root. First, I sez, sez I, +'Get me some b'ilin' wather,' an' I made tay an' give +it to her b'ilin' hot. As share as Oi'm a livin' corpse, +<span class="left"><a name="202">202</a></span> +the very first spoonful fetched her all right. Oh, but +it's God's own gift, an' it's be His blessin' we know +how to use it. An' it don't do to just go an' dig it +when ye want it. It has to be grubbed when the +flower ain't thayer. Ye see, the strength ain't in +both places to oncet. It's ayther in the flower or in +the root, so when the flower is thayer the root's no +more good than an ould straw. Ye hes to Hunt fur +it in spring or in fall, just when the divil himself +wouldn't know whayer to find it.</p> +<p> +"An' fwhat hev ye thayer? Good land! if it ain't +Skunk's Cabbage! Ye sure come up by the Bend. +That's the on'y place whayer that grows."</p> +<p> +"Yes," replied Yan; "that's just where I got it. +But hold on, Granny, I want to sketch all those and +note down their names and what you say about them."</p> +<p> +"Shure, you'd hev a big book when I wuz through," +said the old woman with pride, as she lit her pipe, +striking the match on what would have been the leg +of her pants had she been a man.</p> +<p> +"An' shure ye don't need to write down what +they're good fur, fur the good Lord done that Himself +long ago. Luk here, now. That's Cohosh, fur spazzums, +an' luks like it; that's Moccasin, fur Highsterricks, +an' luks like it; wall, thar's Skunk-root fur both, +an' don't it luk like the two o' thim thigither?"</p> +<p> +Yan feebly agreed, but had much difficulty in seeing +what the plant had in common with the others.</p> +<p> +"An' luk here! Thayer ye got Lowbelier, that +some calls Injun tobaccer. Ye found this by the +<span class="left"><a name="203">203</a></span> +crick, an' it's a little airly—ahead o' toime. That's +the shtuff to make ye throw up when ye want to. +Luk, ain't that lafe the livin' shape of a shtummick?</p> + +<img src="images/sketch110.gif" width="115" height="433" alt="Stickweed, or Cleavers" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"Thayer's the Highbelier; it's a high hairb, an' it's +moighty foine fur the bowels when ye drink the dry +root.</p> +<p> +"Spicewood" [Spicebush, <i>Lindera benzoin</i>], "or +Fayverbush, them twigs is great fur tay—that cures +shakes and fayver. Shure an' it shakes ivery toime +the wind blows.</p> +<p> +"That's Clayvers," she said, picking up a Galium. +"Now fwhat wud ye think that wuz fur to cure?"</p> +<p> +"I don't know. What is it?"</p> +<p> +"Luk now, an' see how it's wrote in it plain as +prent—yes, an' a sight plainer, fur I can read +them an' I can't read a wurrud in a book. Now +fwhat is that loike?" said she, holding up the double +seed-pod.</p> +<p> +"A brain and spinal column," said Yan.</p> +<p> +"Och, choild, I hev better eyes than ye. Shure +them's two kidneys, an' that's fwhat Clayver tay will +cure better'n all the docthers in the wurruld, an' ye +hev to know just how. Ye see, kidney thruble is a +koind o' fayver; it's hatin', so ye make yer Clayver +tay in <i>cold</i> wather; if ye make it o' warrum wather it +just makes ye wuss an' acts loike didly pizen. +Thayer's Sweatplant, or Boneset" [<i>Eupatorium perfoliatum</i>], +"that's the thing to sweat ye. Wanst Oi +sane a feller jest dyin' o' dry hoide, wuz all hoidebound, +an' the docthers throid an' throid an' couldn't +<span class="left"><a name="204">204</a></span> +help wan bit, till I guv his mother some Boneset leaves +to make tay, an' he sweat buckets before he'd more'n +smelt av it, an' the docthers thought they done it +theirsilves!" and she cackled gleefully.</p> +<p> +"Thayer's Goldthread fur cankermouth, an' Pipsissewa +that cures fayver an' rheumatiz, too. It always +grows where folks gits them disayses. Luk at the +flower just blotched red an' white loike fayver +blotches—an' Spearmint, that saves ye if ya pizen +yerself with Spaszum-root, an' shure it grows right +next it in the woods!</p> +<p> +"Thayer's Wormseed fur wurrums—see the 'ittle +wurrum on the leaves" [<i>Chenopodium</i>] "an' that thayer +is Pleurisy root, an' thayer! well, thayer's the foinest + +<img src="images/sketch111.gif" width="140" height="262" alt="Pipsissewa, or Prince's Pine" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> + +hairb that iver God made to grow—that's Cure all. +Some things cures wan thing and some cures another, +but when ye don't know just what to take, ye make +tay o' that root an' ye can't go wrong. It was an +Injun larned me that. The poor miserable baste of a +haythen hed some larnin', an' the minit he showed me +I knowed it was so, fur ivery lafe wuz three in wan +an' wan in three, an' had the sign o' the blessed crass +in the middle as plain as that biler settin' on the +stove."</p> +<p> +Thus she chattered away, smoking her short pipe, +expectorating on the top of the hot stove, but with +true feminine delicacy she was careful each time to +wipe her mouth on the back of her skinny arm.</p> +<p> +"An' that's what's called Catnip; sure Oi moind well +the day Oi furst larned about that. It warn't a Injun +<span class="left"><a name="205">205</a></span> +nor a docther nor a man at all, at all, that larned me +that. It was that ould black Cat, an' may the saints +stand bechuxt me an' his grane eyes! Bejabers, +sometimes he scares me wid his knowin' ways, but I +hev nothin' agin him except that he kills the wee +burruds. He koind o' measled all wan winter an' lay +around the stove. Whiniver the dooer was open he'd +go an' luk out an' then come back an' meow an' wheen +an' lay down—an' so he kep' on, gittin' waker an' +worser, till the snow wuz gone an' grass come up, an' +still he'd go a-lukin' toward the ayst, especially nights. +Then thayer come up a plant I had never sane, right +thayer, an' he'd luk at it an' luk at it loike he wanted +it but didn't dar to. Thar was some foine trays out +thayer in thim days afore the ould baste cut thim +down, an' wan av thim hed a big limb, so—an' another +so—an' when the moon come up full at jest the right +time the shaddy made the sign av the crass an' loighted +on me dooer, an' after it was past it didn't +make no crass. Well, bejabers, the full moon come +up at last an' she made the sign of the shaddy crass, +an' the ould Cat goes out an' watches an' watches loike +he wanted to an' didn't dar to, till that crass drapped +fayer onto the hairbs, an' Tom he jumped then an' ate +<img src="images/sketch112.gif" width="132" height="210" alt="Catnip" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +an' ate, an' from that day he was a well Cat; an' that's +how Oi larned Catnip, an' it set me moind aisy, +too, fur no Cat that's possesst 'll iver ate inunder the +shaddy av the crass."</p> +<p> +Yan was scribbling away, but had given up any +attempt to make sketches or even notes beyond the +<span class="left"><a name="206">206</a></span> +names of the plants.</p> +<p> +"Shure, choild, put them papers wid the names +on the hairbs an' save <i>them</i>; that wuz fwhat Docther +Carmartin done whin Oi was larnin' him. Thayer, +now, that's it," she added, as Yan took the hint and +began slipping on each stalk a paper label with its +name.</p> +<p> +"That's a curious broom," said Yan, as his eye +fell on the symbol of order and cleanliness, making +strange reflections on itself.</p> +<p> +"Yes; sure, that's a Baitche broom. Larry makes +'em."</p> +<p> +"Larry?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, me bhoy." [Larry was nearly sixty.] "He +makes thim of Blue Baitche."</p> +<p> +"How?" asked Yan, picking it up and examining +it with intense interest.</p> +<p> +"Whoi, shure, by whittlin'. Larry's a howly +terror to whittle, an' he gets a Blue Baitche sapling +'bout three inches thick an' starts a-whittlin" long +slivers, but laves them on the sthick at wan end till +thayer all round loike that."</p> +<img src="images/sketch113.gif" width="152" height="206" alt="Blue Beech" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +"What, like a fire-lighter?"</p> +<p> +"Yis, yis, that's it, only bigger, an Blue Baitche is +terrible tough. Then whin he has the sthick down +to 'bout an inch thick, he ties all the slivers the +wrong way wid a sthrand o' Litherwood, an' thrims +down the han'el to suit, an' evens up the ind av the +broom wid the axe an' lets it dhry out, an' thayer yer +<span class="left"><a name="207">207</a></span> +is. Better broom was niver made, an' there niver +wus ony other in th' famb'ly till he married that +Kitty Connor, the lowest av the low, an' it's meself +was all agin her, wid her proide an' her dirthy sthuck-up +ways' nothin' but boughten things wuz good +enough fur her, <i>her</i> that niver had a dacint male till +she thrapped moi Larry. Yis, low be it sphoken, +but 'thrapped' 's the wurrud," said the old woman, +raising her voice to give emphasis that told a lurid +tale.</p> +<p> +At this moment the door opened and in came +Biddy, and as she was the daughter of the unspeakable +Kitty the conversation turned.</p> +<p> +"An' sure it's glad to see ye I am, an' when are ye +comin' down to reside at our place?" was her greeting +to Yan, and while they talked Granny took advantage +of the chance to take a long pull at a bottle that +looked and smelled like Lung-balm.</p> +<p> +"Moi, Biddy, yer airly," said Granny.</p> +<p> +"Shure, an' now it was late whin I left home, an' the +schulmaster says it's always so walking from +ayst to west."</p> +<p> +"An' shure it's glad Oi am to say ye, fur Yan will +shtop an ate wid us. It ain't duck an' grane pase, +but, thank God, we hev enough an' a hearty welcome +wid ivery boite. Ye say, Biddy makes me dinner +ivery foine day an' Oi get a boite an' a sup for meself +other toimes, an' slapes be me lone furby me Dog an' +Cat an' the apples, which thayer ain't but a handful +left, but fwhat thar is is yourn. Help yerself, +choild, an' ate hearty," and she turned down the +<span class="left"><a name="208">208</a></span> +gray-looking bedclothes to show the last half-dozen +of the same rosy apples.</p> +<p> +"Aint you afraid to sleep here alone nights, +Granny?"</p> +<p> +"Shure fwhat hev Oi to fayre? Thayer niver +wuz robbers come but wanst, an' shure I got +theyer last cint aff av them. They come one night +an' broke in, an' settin' up, Oi sez, 'Now fwhat <i>are +</i> yez lukin' fur?'</p> +<p> +"'Money,' sez they, fur thayer was talk all round +thin that Oi had sold me cow fur $25.</p> +<p> +"'Sure, thin, Oi'll get up an' help ye,' sez Oi, fur +divil a cint hev Oi been able to set me eyes on sense +apple harvest.'"</p> +<p> +'"We want $25, or we'll kill ye.'</p> +<p> +"'Faith, an' if it wuz twenty-five cints Oi couldn't +help it,' sez Oi, 'an' it's ready to die Oi am,' sez Oi, +'fur Oi was confessed last wake an' Oi'm a-sayin' me +prayers <i>this</i> minit.'</p> +<p> +"Sez the littlest wan, an' he wa'n't so little, nigh +as br'ad as that dooer, 'Hevn't ye sold yer cow?'</p> +<p> +"'Ye'll foind her in the barrun,' sez Oi, 'though Oi +hate to hev yez disturb her slapin'. It makes her +drame an' that's bad fur the milk.'</p> +<p> +"An' next thing them two robbers wuz laffin' at +each other fur fools. Then the little wan sez:</p> +<p> +"'Now, Granny, we'll lave ye in pace, if ye'll niver +say a wurrud o' this'—but the other wan seemed +kind o' sulky.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="209">209</a></span> +"'Sorra a wurrud,' sez Oi, 'an' good frinds we'll +be yit,' an' they wuz makin' fur the dooer to clayer +out whin I sez:</p> +<p> +"'Howld on! Me friends can't lave me house an' naither +boite nor sup; turn yer backs an' ye plaze, +till Oi get on me skirt.' An' whin Oi wuz up an' dacint +an' tould them they could luk, Oi sez, 'It's +the foinest Lung balm in the land ye shall taste,' an' the +littlest feller he starts a-coughin', oh, a turrible +cough—it fair scairt me, like a hoopin' croup—an' the +other seemed just mad, and the littlest wan made +fun av him. Oi seen the mean wan wuz left-handed +or let on he wuz, but when he reached out fur the +bottle he had on'y three fingers on his right, an' they +both av them had the biggest, blackest, awfulest +lukin' bairds—I'd know them two bairds agin ony +place—an' the littlest had a rag round his head, said +he had a toothache, but shure yer teeth don't ache +in the roots o' yer haiyer. Then when they wuz goin' the +littlest wan put a dollar in me hand an' sez, +'It's all we got bechuxst us, Granny.' 'Godbless ye,' sez +Oi, 'an' Oi take it kindly. It's the first Oi seen +sense apple harvest, an' it's a friend ye hev in me +whin ye nade wan,'" and the old woman chuckled +over her victory.</p> +<p> +"Granny, do you know what the Indians use for +dyeing colours?" asked Yan, harking back to his main +purpose.</p> +<p> +"Shure, Yahn, they jest goes to the store an' gets +boughten dyes in packages like we do."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="210">210</a></span> +"But before there were boughten dyes, didn't +they use things in the woods?"</p> +<p> +"That they did, for shure. Iverything man iver +naded the good Lord made grow fur him in the +woods."</p> +<p> +"Yes, but what plants?"</p> +<p> +"Faix, an' they differ fur different things."</p> +<p> +"Yes, but what are they?" Then seeing how +general questions failed, he went at it in detail.</p> +<p> +"What do they use for yellow dye on the Porcupine +quills—I mean before the boughten dyes came?"</p> +<p> +"Well, shure an' that's a purty yellow flower that +grows in the fall out in the field an' along the fences. +The Yaller Weed, I call it, an' some calls it Goldenrod. +They bile the quills in wather with the flower. Luk! +Thar's some wool dyed that way."</p> +<p> +"An' the red?" said Yan, scribbling away.</p> +<p> +"Faix, an' they had no rale good red. They made +a koind o' red o' berry juice b'iled, an' wanst I seen +a turrible nice red an ol' squaw made b'ilin' the +quills fust in yaller awhile an' next awhile in red."</p> +<p> +"What berries make the best red, Granny?"</p> +<p> +"Well, 'tain't the red wans, as ye moight think. +Ye kin make it of Rosberries or Sumac or Huckleberries +an' lots more, but Black Currants is redder +than Red Currants, an' Squaw berries is best av +them all."</p> +<p> +"What are they like?"</p> +<p> +"Shure, an' Oi'll show ye that same hairb," and +they wandered around outside the shanty in vain +search. "It's too airly," said Granny, "but it's +<span class="left"><a name="211">211</a></span> +round thayer in heaps in August an' is the purtiest +red iver grew. 'An Pokeweed, too, it ain't har'ly +flowerin' yit, but in the fall it hez berries that's so +red they're nigh black, an' dyes the purtiest kind o' +a purple."</p> +<p> +"What makes blue?"</p> +<p> +"Oi niver sane none in the quills. Thayer may be +some. The good Lord made iverything grow in the +woods, but I ain't found it an' niver seen none. Ye +kin make a grane av the young shoots av Elder, but +it ain't purty like that," and she pointed to a frightful +emerald ribbon that Biddy wore, "an' a brown of +Butternut bark, an' a black av White Oak chips an' +bark. Ye kin make a kind o' grane av two dips, +wan of yaller an wan av black. Ye kin dye black +wid Hickory bark, an' orange (bad scran to it) wid +the inner bark of Birch, an' yaller wid the roots av +Hoop Ash, an' a foine scarlet from the bark av the +little root av Dogwood, but there ain't no rale blue +in the woods, an' that's what I tell them orange-an'-blue +Prattisons on the 12th o' July, fur what the +Lord didn't make the divil did.</p> +<p> +"Ye kin make a koind of blue out o' the Indigo +hairb, but 'tain't like this," pointing to some screaming +cobalt, "an' if it ain't in the woods the good Lord +niver meant us to have it. Yis! I tell ye it's the +divil's own colour, that blue-orange an' blue is the +divil's own colours, shure enough, fur brimstone's +yaller; an' its blue whin it's burnin', that I hed from +his riv'rince himself—bless him!" +<img src="images/sketch114.gif" alt="Pokeweed" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="191" height="231" border="0" /> +</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<img src="images/sketch115.gif" width="139" height="425" alt="Saxifrage" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="212">212</a></span> + +<h3><a name="2XII">XII</a></h3> +<h3>Dinner with the Witch</h3> + +<p> +Biddy meanwhile had waddled around the room +slapping the boards with her broad bare feet +as she prepared their dinner. She was evidently +trying to put on style, for she turned out her toes +excessively. She spoke several times about "the +toime when she resoided with yer mamma," then at +length, "Whayer's the tablecloth, Granny?"</p> +<p> +"Now, wud ye listen to thot, an' she knowin' that +divil a clath hev we in the wurruld, an' glad enough +to hev vittles on the table, let alone a clath," said +Granny, oblivious of the wreck she was making of +Biddy's pride.</p> +<p> +"Will ye hay tay or coffee, Yahn?" said Biddy.</p> +<p> +"Tea," was Yan's choice.</p> +<p> +"Faix, an' Oi'm glad ye said tay, fur Oi ain' seen +a pick o' coffee sense Christmas, an' the tay Oi kin +git in the woods, but thayer is somethin' Oi kin set +afore ye that don't grow in the woods," and the old +woman hobbled to a corner shelf, lifted down an old +cigar box and from among matches, tobacco, feathers, +tacks, pins, thread and dust she picked six lumps of +cube sugar, formerly white.</p> +<p> +"Thayer, shure, an' Oi wuz kapin' this fur whin +his riv'rence comes; wanst a year he's here, God bless +<span class="left"><a name="213">213</a></span> +him! but that's fower wakes ahid, an' dear knows +fwhat may happen afore thin. Here, an' a hearty +welcome," said she, dropping three of the lumps in +Yan's tea. "We'll kape the rest fur yer second cup. +Hev some crame?" and she pushed over a sticky-handled +shaving-mug full of excellent cream. "Biddy, +give Yahn some bread."</p> +<p> +The loaf, evidently the only one, was cut up and +two or three slices forced into Yan's plate.</p> +<p> +"Mebbe the butther is a little hoigh," exclaimed +the hostess, noting that Yan was sparing of it. +"Howld on." She went again to the corner shelf +and got down an old glass jar with scalloped edge +and a flat tin cover. It evidently contained jam. +She lifted the cover and exclaimed:</p> +<p> +"Well, Oi niver!" Then going to the door she +fished out with her fingers a dead mouse and threw +it out, remarking placidly, "Oi've wondered whayer +the little divil wuz. Oi ain't sane him this two +wakes, an' me a-thinkin' it wuz Tom ate him. May +Oi be furgiven the onjustice av it. Consarn them flies! +That cover niver did fit." And again her finger was +employed, this time to scrape off an incrustation of +unhappy flies that had died, like Clarence, in their +favourite beverage.</p> +<p> +"Thayer, Yan, now ate hearty, all av it, an' welcome. +It does me good to see ye ate—thayer's +lots more whayer that come from," though it was +obvious that she had put her all upon the table.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="214">214</a></span> +Poor Yan was in trouble. He felt instinctively +that the good old soul was wrecking her week's +resources in this lavish hospitality, but he also felt +that she would be deeply hurt if he did not +appear to enjoy everything. The one possibly clean +thing was the bread. He devoted himself to that; it +was of poorest quality; one or two hairs looping in +his teeth had been discouraging, but when he bit at +a piece of linen rag with a button on it he was fairly +upset. He managed to hide the rag, but could not +conceal his sudden loss of appetite. +</p> +<img src="images/sketch116a.gif" width="180" height="388" alt="" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +"Hev some more av this an' this," and in spite of +himself his plate was piled up with things for him +to eat, including a lot of beautifully boiled potatoes, +but unfortunately the hostess carried them from +the pot on the stove in a corner of her ancient and +somber apron, and served him with her skinny paw.</p> +<p> +Yan's appetite was wholly gone now, to the grief +of his kind entertainer, "Shure an' she'd fix him up +something to stringthen him," and Yan had hard +work to beg off.</p> +<p> +"Would ye like an aig," ventured Biddy.</p> +<p> +"Why, yes! oh, yes, please," exclaimed Yan, with +almost too much enthusiasm. He thought, "Well, +hens are pure-minded creatures, anyway. An egg's +sure to be clean."</p> +<p> +Biddy waddled away to the 'barrun' and soon +reappeared with three eggs.</p> +<p> +"B'iled or fried?"</p> +<p> +"Boiled," said Yan, aiming to keep to the safe side.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="215">215</a></span> +Biddy looked around for a pot.</p> +<p> +"Shure, <i>that's</i> b'ilin' now," said Granny, pointing +to the great mass of her undergarments seething in +the boiler, and accordingly the eggs were dropped +in there.</p> +<p> +Yan fervently prayed that they might not break. +As it was, two did crack open, but he got the other +one, and that was virtually his dinner.</p> +<p> +A Purple Blackbird came hopping in the door now.</p> +<p> +"Will, now, thayer's Jack. Whayer hev ye been? +I thought ye wuz gone fur good. Shure Oi saved him +from a murtherin' gunner," she explained. "(Bad +scran to the baste! I belave he was an Or'ngeman.) +But he's all right now an' comes an' goes like he +owned the place. Now, Jack, you git out av that +wather pail," as the beautiful bird leaped into the +half-filled drinking bucket and began to take a bath.</p> +<p> +"Now luk at that," she shouted, "ye little rascal, +come out o' that oven," for now the Blackbird had +taken advantage of the open door to scramble into +the dark warm oven.</p> +<p> +"Thayer he goes to warrum his futs. Oh, ye little +rascal! Next thing ye know some one'll slam the +dooer, not knowin' a thing, and fire up, an' it's +roastin' aloive ye'll be. Shure an' it's tempted +Oi am to wring yer purty neck to save yer loife," +and she drove him out with the harshest of words +and the gentlest of hands.</p> +<p> +Then Yan, with his arms full of labelled plants, +set out for home.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="216">216</a></span> +"Good-boi, choild, come back agin and say me +soon. Bring some more hairbs. Good-boi, an' bless +ye. Oi hope it's no sin to say so, fur Oi know yer a +Prattison an' ye are all on yez goin' to hell, but yer +a foine bhoy. Oi'm tumble sorry yer a Prattison."</p> +<p> +When Yan got back to the Raftens' he found the +dinner table set for one, though it was now three in +the afternoon.</p> +<p> +"Come and get your dinner," said Mrs. Raften in +her quiet motherly way. "I'll put on the steak. It +will be ready in five minutes."</p> +<p> +"But I've had my dinner with Granny de Neuville."</p> +<p> +"Yes, I know!"</p> +<p> +"Did she stir yer tea with one front claw an' put +jam on yer bread with the other?" asked Raften, +rather coarsely.</p> +<p> +"Did she b'ile her pet Blackbird fur yer soup?" +said Sam.</p> +<p> +Yan turned very red. Evidently all had a good +idea of what he had experienced, but it jarred on him +to hear their mockery of the good old soul.</p> +<p> +He replied warmly, "She was just as kind and nice +as she could be."</p> +<p> +"You had better have a steak now," said Mrs. +Raften, in solicitous doubt.</p> +<p> +How tempting was the thought of that juicy brown +steak! How his empty stomach did crave it! But +the continued mockery had stirred him. He would +stand up for the warm-hearted old woman who had +ungrudgingly given him the best she had—had given +her all—to make a hearty welcome for a stranger. +<span class="left"><a name="217">217</a></span> +They should never know how gladly he would have +eaten now, and in loyalty to his recent hostess he +added the first lie of his life:</p> +<p> +"No, thank you very much, but really I am not +in the least hungry. I had a fine dinner at Granny +de Neuville's."</p> +<p> +Then, defying the inner pangs of emptiness, he +went about his evening chores. + +<img src="images/sketch117.gif" alt="" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="244" height="114" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch118.gif" width="54" height="80" alt="Black or Blue Birch" border="0" /> + +<span class="left"><a name="218">218</a></span> +<h3><a name="2XIII">XIII</a></h3> +<h3>The Hostile Spy</h3> + +<p> +"Wonder where Caleb got that big piece of Birch +bark," said Yan; "I'd like some for dishes."</p> +<p> +"Guess I know. He was over to Burns's +bush. There's none in ours. We kin git some."</p> + +<img src="images/sketch119.gif" width="80" height="112" alt="Mahogany or Silver Birch" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +"Will you ask him?"</p> +<p> +"Naw, who cares for an old Birch tree. We'll +go an' borrow it when he ain't lookin'."</p> +<p> +Yan hesitated.</p> +<p> +Sam took the axe. "We'll call this a war party +into the enemy's country. There's sure 'nuff war +that-a-way. He's one of Da's '<i>friends.'</i>"</p> +<p> +Yan followed, in doubt still as to the strict +honesty of the proceeding.</p> +<p> +Over the line they soon found a good-sized canoe +Birch, and were busy whacking away to get off a +long roll, when a tall man and a small boy, apparently +attracted by the chopping, came in sight and made +toward them. Sam called under his breath: "It's +old Burns. Let's git."</p> +<p> +There was no time to save anything but themselves +and the axe. They ran for the boundary fence, while +Burns contented himself with shouting out threats +and denunciations. Not that he cared a straw for the +Birch tree—timber had no value in that country—but +<span class="left"><a name="219">219</a></span> +unfortunately Raften had quarrelled with all +his immediate neighbours, therefore Burns did his best +to make a fearful crime of the petty depredation.</p> +<p> +His valiant son, a somewhat smaller boy than either +Yan or Sam, came near enough to the boundary to +hurl opprobrious epithets.</p> +<p> +"Red-head—red-head! You red-headed thief! +Hol' on till my paw gits hol' o' you—Raften, the +Baften, the rick-strick Straften," and others equally +galling and even more exquisitely refined.</p> +<p> +"War party escaped and saved their scalps," and +Sam placidly laid the axe in its usual place.</p> +<p> +"Nothing lost but honour," added Yan. "Who's +the kid?"</p> +<img src="images/sketch120.gif" width="99" height="92" alt="1st Prize Guy Burns" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"Oh, that's Guy Burns. I know him. He's a mean +little cuss, always sneaking and peeking. Lies like +sixty. Got the prize—a big scrubbing-brush—for +being the dirtiest boy in school. We all voted, and +the teacher gave it to him."</p> +<p> +Next day the boys made another war party for +Birch bark, but had hardly begun operations when +there was an uproar not far away, and a voice, evidently +of a small boy, mouthing it largely, trying to +pass itself off as a man's voice: "Hi, yer the —— +——. Yer git off my —— —— place —— ——"</p> +<p> +"Le's capture the little cuss, Yan."</p> +<p> +"An' burn him at the stake with horrid torture," +was the rejoinder.</p> +<p> +They set out in his direction, but again the appearance +of Burns changed their war-party onslaught into +<span class="left"><a name="220">220</a></span> +a rapid retreat.</p> +<p> +(More opprobrium.)</p> +<p> +During the days that followed the boys were often +close to the boundary, but it happened that Burns +was working near and Guy had the quickest of eyes +and ears. The little rat seemed ever on the alert. +He soon showed by his long-distance remarks that he +knew all about the boys' pursuits—had doubtless +visited the camp in their absence. Several times +they saw him watching them with intense interest +when they were practising with bow and arrow, but +he always retreated to a safe distance when discovered, +and then enjoyed himself breathing out +fire and slaughter.</p> +<p> +One day the boys came to the camp at an unusual +hour. On going into a near thicket Yan saw a bare +foot under some foliage. "Hallo, what's this?" He +stooped down and found a leg to it and at the end of +that Guy Burns.</p> +<p> +Up Guy jumped, yelling "Paw—Paw—PAW!" He +ran for his life, the Indians uttering blood-curdlers +on his track. But Yan was a runner, and Guy's +podgy legs, even winged by fear, had no chance. He +was seized and dragged howling back to the camp.</p> +<p> +"You let me alone, you Sam Raften—now you let +me alone!" There was, however, a striking lack of +opprobrium in his remarks now. (Such delicacy is +highly commendable in the very young.)</p> +<p> +"First thing is to secure the prisoner, Yan."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="221">221</a></span> +Sam produced a cord.</p> +<p> +"Pooh," said Yan. "You've got no style about +you. Bring me some Leatherwood."</p> +<p> +This was at hand, and in spite of howls and scuffles, +Guy was solemnly tied to a tree—a green one—because, +as Yan pointed out, that would resist the +fire better.</p> +<p> +The two Warriors now squatted cross-legged by the +fire. The older one lighted a peace-pipe, and they +proceeded to discuss the fate of the unhappy +captive.</p> +<p> +"Brother," said Yan, with stately gestures, "it is +very pleasant to hear the howls of this miserable paleface." +(It was really getting to be more than they +could endure.)</p> +<p> +"Ugh—heap good," said the Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +"Ye better let me alone. My Paw'll fix you for +this, you dirty cowards," wailed the prisoner, fast +losing control of his tongue.</p> +<p> +"Ugh! Take um scalp first, burn him after," and +Little Beaver made some expressive signs.</p> +<p> +"Wah—bully—me heap wicked," rejoined the +Woodpecker, expectorating on a stone and beginning +to whet his jack-knife.</p> +<p> +The keen and suggestive "<i>weet, weet, weet</i>" of the +knife on the stone smote on Guy's ears and nerves +with appalling effect.</p> +<p> +"Brother Woodpecker, the spirit of our tribe calls +out for the blood of the victim—all of it."</p> +<p> +"Great Chief Woodpecker, you mean," said Sam, +aside. "If you don't call me Chief, I won't call you +<span class="left"><a name="222">222</a></span> +Chief, that's all."</p> +<p> +The Great Woodpecker and Little Beaver now +entered the teepee, repainted each other's faces, +adjusted their head-dresses and stepped out to the +execution.</p> +<p> +The Woodpecker re-whetted his knife. It did not +need it, but he liked the sound.</p> +<p> +Little Beaver now carried a lot of light firewood and +arranged it in front of the prisoner, but Guy's legs were +free and he gave it a kick which sent it all flying. +The two War-chiefs leaped aside. "Ugh! Heap +sassy," said the ferocious Woodpecker. "Tie him +legs, oh, Brother Great Chief Little Beaver!"</p> +<p> +A new bark strip tied his legs securely to the tree. +Then Chief Woodpecker approached with his knife +and said:</p> +<p> +"Great Brother Chief Little Beaver, if we scalp him +there is only one scalp, and <i>you</i> will have nothing to +show, except you're content with the wishbone."</p> +<p> +Here was a difficulty, artificial yet real, but Yan +suggested:</p> +<p> +"Great Brother Chief +Red-headed-Woodpecker-Settin'-on-a-Stump-with-his-Tail-Waggling-over-the Edge, +no scalp him; skin his hull head, then each take +half skin."</p> +<p> +"Wah! Very good, oh Brother Big-Injun-Chief +Great-Little-Beaver-Chaw-a-Tree-Down."</p> +<span class="left"><a name="223">223</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus10a.jpg" width="640" height="441" alt="Ugh! Heap sassy!" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Then the Woodpecker got a piece of charcoal and +proceeded in horrid gravity to mark out on the tow +hair of the prisoner just what he considered a fair +<span class="left"><a name="225">225</a></span> +division. Little Beaver objected that he was entitled +to an ear and half of the crown, which is the essential +part of the scalp. The Woodpecker pointed out that +fortunately the prisoner had a cow-lick that was +practically a second crown. This ought to do perfectly +well for the younger Chief's share. The charcoal lines +were dusted off for a try-over. Both Chiefs got charcoal +now and a new sketch plan was made on Guy's +tow top and corrected till it was accepted by both.</p> +<p> +The victim had really never lost heart till now. +His flow of threats and epithets had been continuous +and somewhat tedious. He had threatened to tell his +"paw" and "the teacher," and all the world, but +finally he threatened to tell Mr. Raften. This was +the nearest to a home thrust of any yet, and in some +uneasiness the Woodpecker turned to Little Beaver +and said:</p> +<p> +"Brother Chief, do you comprehend the language +of the blithering Paleface? What does he say?"</p> +<p> +"Ugh, I know not," was the reply. "Maybe he +now singeth a death song in his own tongue."</p> +<p> +Guy was not without pluck. He had kept up heart +so far believing that the boys were "foolin'," but when +he felt the awful charcoal line drawn to divide his +scalp satisfactorily between these two inhuman, +painted monsters, and when with a final "<i>weet, weet, +weet</i>" of the knife on the stone the implacable Woodpecker +approached and grabbed his tow locks in one +hand, then he broke down and wept bitterly.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="226">226</a></span> +"Oh, please don't——Oh, Paw! Oh, Maw! Let +me go this time an' I'll never do it again." What he +would not do was not specified, but the evidence of +surrender was complete.</p> +<p> +"Hold on, Great Brother Chief," said Little +Beaver. "It is the custom of the tribes to release or +even to adopt such prisoners as have shown notable +fortitude."</p> +<p> +"Showed fortitude enough for six if it's the same +thing as yellin'," said the Woodpecker, dropping +into his own vernacular.</p> +<p> +"Let us cut his bonds so that he may escape to his +own people."</p> +<p> +"Thar'd be more style to it if we left him thar +overnight an' found next mornin' he had escaped +somehow by himself," said the older Chief. The +victim noted the improvement in his situation and +now promised amid sobs to get them all the Birch +bark they wanted—to do anything, if they would +let him go. He would even steal for them the +choicest products of his father's orchard.</p> +<p> +Little Beaver drew his knife and cut bond after bond.</p> +<p> +Woodpecker got his bow and arrow, remarking +"Ugh, heap fun shoot him runnin'."</p> +<p> +The last bark strip was cut. Guy needed no +urging. He ran for the boundary fence in silence +till he got over; then finding himself safe and unpursued, +he rilled the air with threats and execrations. +No part of his statement would do to print here.</p> +<p> +After such a harrowing experience most boys would +have avoided that swamp, but Guy knew Sam at +<span class="left"><a name="227">227</a></span> +school as a good-natured fellow. He began to think +he had been unduly scared. He was impelled by +several motives, a burning curiosity being, perhaps +the most important. The result was that one day +when the boys came to camp they saw Guy sneaking +off. It was fun to capture him and drag him back. +He was very sullen, and not so noisy as the other +time, evidently less scared. The Chiefs talked of fire +and torture and of ducking him in the pond without +getting much response. Then they began to cross-examine +<img src="images/sketch122.gif" width="122" height="173" alt="Gyascutus" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +the prisoner. He gave no answer. Why +did he come to the camp? What was he doing—stealing? +etc. He only looked sullen.</p> +<p> +"Let's blindfold him and drive a Gyascutus down his +back," said Yan in a hollow voice.</p> +<p> +"Good idee," agreed Sam, not knowing any more +than the prisoner what a Gyascutus was. Then he +added, "just as well be merciful. It'll put him out +o' pain."</p> +<p> +It is the unknown that terrifies. The prisoner's +soul was touched again. His mouth was trembling +at the corners. He was breaking down when Yan +followed it up: "Then why don't you tell us what +you are doing here?"</p> +<p> +He blubbered out, "I want to play Injun, too."</p> +<p> +The boys broke down in another way. They had +not had time to paint their faces, so that their +expressions were very clear on this occasion.</p> +<p> +Then Little Beaver arose and addressed the Council.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="228">228</a></span> +"Great Chiefs of the Sanger Nation: The last time +we tortured and burned to death this prisoner, he +created quite an impression. Never before has one +of our prisoners shown so many different kinds of +gifts. I vote to receive him into the Tribe."</p> +<p> +The Woodpecker now arose and spoke:</p> +<p> +"O wisest Chief but one in this Tribe, that's all right +enough, but you know that no warrior can join us +without first showing that he's good stuff and clear +grit, all wool, and a cut above the average somehow. +It hain't never been so. Now he's got to lick some +Warrior of the Tribe. Kin you do that?"</p> +<p> +"Nope."</p> +<p> +"Or outrun one or outshoot him or something—or +give us all a present. What kin you do?"</p> +<p> +"I kin steal watermillyons, an' I kin see farder 'n +any boy in school, an' I kin sneak to beat all creation. +I watched you fellers lots of times from them bushes. +I watched you buildin' that thar dam. <i>I swum +in it 'fore you did</i>, an' I uster set an' smoke in your +teepee when you wasn't thar, an' I heerd you talk the +time you was fixin' up to steal our Birch bark."</p> +<p> +"Don't seem to me like it all proves much <i>fortitude</i>. +Have you got any presents for the oldest head +Chief of the tribe?"</p> +<p> +"I'll get you all the Birch bark you want. I can't git +what you cut, coz me an' Paw burned that so you +couldn't git it, but I'll git you lots more, an' maybe—I'll +steal you a chicken once in awhile."</p> +<p> +"His intentions are evidently honourable Let's +take him in on sufferance," said Yan.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="229">229</a></span> +"All right," replied the head Chief, "he kin come in, +but that don't spile my claim to that left half of his +scalp down to that tuft of yellow moss on the scruff +of his neck where the collar has wore off the dirt. I'm +liable to call for it any time, an' the ear goes with it."</p> +<p> +Guy wanted to treat this as a joke, but Sam's +glittering eyes and inscrutable face were centered +hungrily on that "yaller tuft" in a way that gave him +the "creeps" again.</p> +<p> +"Say, Yan—I mean Great Little Beaver—you know +all about it, what kind o' stunts did they have to do to +get into an Injun tribe, anyhow?"</p> +<p> +"Different tribes do different ways, but the Sun +Dance and the Fire Test are the most respectable +and both <i>terribly hard</i>."</p> +<p> +"Well, what did <i>you</i> do?" queried the Great Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +"Both," said Yan grinning, as he remembered his +sunburnt arms and shoulders.</p> +<p> +"Quite sure?" said the older Chief in a tone of +doubt.</p> +<p> +"Yes, sir; and I bore it so well that every one there +agreed that I was the best one in the Tribe," said +Little Beaver, omitting to mention the fact that he +was the only one in it. "I was unanimously named +'Howling Sunrise.'"</p> +<p> +"Well, I want to be 'Howling Sunrise,'" piped +Guy in his shrill voice.</p> +<p> +"You? You don't know whether you can pass at +all, you Yaller Mossback."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="230">230</a></span> +"Come, Mossy, which will you do?"</p> +<p> +Guy's choice was to be sunburnt to the waist. He +was burnt and freckled already to the shoulders, on +arms as well as on neck, and his miserable cotton +shirt so barely turned the sun's rays that he was +elsewhere of a deep yellow tinge with an occasional +constellation of freckles. Accordingly he danced +about camp all one day with nothing on but his pants, +and, of course, being so seasoned, he did not burn.</p> +<p> +As the sun swung low the Chiefs assembled in +Council.</p> +<p> +The head Chief looked over the new Warrior, shook +his head gravely and said emphatically: "Too green +to burn. Your name is Sapwood."</p> +<p> +Protest was in vain. "Sappy," he was and had +to be until he won a better name. The peace pipe +was smoked all round and he was proclaimed third +War Chief of the Sanger Indians (the word <i>War</i> +inserted by special request).</p> +<p> +He was quite the most harmless member of the band +and therefore took unusual pleasure in posing as the +possessor of a perennial thirst for human heart-blood. +War-paint was his delight, and with its aid he was +singularly successful in correcting his round and +smiling face into a savage visage of revolting ferocity. +Paint was his hobby and his pride, but alas! how +often it happens one's deepest sorrow is in the midst +of one's greatest joy—the deepest lake is the old +crater on top of the highest mountain. Sappy's eyes +were <i>not</i> the sinister black beads of the wily Red-man, +but a washed-out blue. His ragged, tow-coloured +<span class="left"><a name="231">231</a></span> +locks he could hide under wisps of horsehair, the +paint itself redeemed his freckled skin, but there was +no remedy for the white eyelashes and the pale, piggy, +blue eyes. He kept his sorrow to himself, however, +for he knew that if the others got an inkling of his +feelings on the subject his name would have been +promptly changed to "Dolly" or "Birdy," or some +other equally horrible and un-Indian appellation.</p> + +<img src="images/sketch123.gif" alt="Sappy" hspace="15" style="float: left" width="219" height="110" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch124b.gif" width="100" height="151" alt="Scarlet Tanager" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="232">232</a></span> + +<h3><a name="2XIV">XIV</a></h3> +<h3>The Quarrel</h3> + +<p> + "Say, Yan, I saw a Blood-Robin this morning."</p> +<p> +"That's a new one," said Yan, in a tone of doubt.</p> +<p> +"Well, it's the purtiest bird in the country."</p> +<p> +"What? A Humming-bird?"</p> +<p> +"Na-aw-w-w. They ain't purty, only small."</p> +<p> +"Well, that shows what you know," retorted Yan, +"'for these exquisite winged gems are at once the +most diminutive and brilliantly coloured of the whole +feathered race.'" This phrase Yan had read some +where and his overapt memory had seized on it.</p> +<p> +"Pshaw!" said Sam. "Sounds like a book, but +I'll bet I seen hundreds of Hummin'-birds round the +Trumpet-vine and Bee-balm in the garden, an' they +weren't a millionth part as purty as this. Why, it's +just as red as blood, shines like fire and has black +wings. The old Witch says the Indians call it a War-bird +'cause when it flew along the trail there was sure +going to be war, which is like enough, fur they wuz at +it all the hull time."</p> +<p> +"Oh, I know," said Yan. "A Scarlet Tanager. +Where did you see it?"</p> +<p> +"Why, it came from the trees, then alighted on the +highest pole of the teepee."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="233">233</a></span> +"Hope there isn't going to be any war there, Sam. +I wish I had one to stuff."</p> +<p> +"Tried to get him for you, sonny, spite of the Rules. +Could 'a' done it, too, with a gun. Had a shy at him +with an arrow an' I hain't been bird or arrow since. +'Twas my best arrow, too—old Sure-Death."</p> +<p> +"Will ye give me the arrow if I kin find it?" said +Guy.</p> +<p> +"Now you bet I won't. What good'd that be to +me?"</p> +<p> +"Will you give me your chewin' gum?"</p> +<p> +"No."</p> +<p> +"Will you lend it to me?"</p> +<p> +"Yep."</p> +<p> +"Well, there's your old arrow," said Guy, pulling it +from between the logs where it had fallen. "I seen +it go there an' reckoned I'd lay low an' watch the +progress of events, as Yan says," and Guy whinnied.</p> +<p> +Early in the morning the Indians in war-paint +went off on a prowl. They carried their bows and +arrows, of course, and were fully alert, studying the +trail at intervals and listening for "signs of the +enemy."</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch126.gif" width="86" height="373" alt="Balsam-fir and fuzz-ball" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +Their moccasined feet gave forth no sound, and +their keen eyes took in every leaf that stirred as +their sinewy forms glided among the huge trunks of +the primeval vegetation—at least, Yan's note-book +said they did. They certainly went with very little +noise, but they disturbed a small Hawk that flew from +a Balsam-fir—a "Fire tree" they now called it, since +they had discovered the wonderful properties of the +<span class="left"><a name="234">234</a></span> +wood.</p> +<p> +Three arrows were shot after it and no harm done. +Yan then looked into the tree and exclaimed:</p> +<p> +"A nest."</p> +<p> +"Looks to me like a fuzz-ball," said Guy.</p> +<p> +"Guess not," replied Yan. "Didn't we scare the +Hawk off?"</p> +<p> +He was a good climber, quite the best of the three, +and dropping his head-dress, coat, leggings and +weapon, she shinned up the Balsam trunk, utterly +regardless of the gum which hung in crystalline drops +or easily burst bark-bladders on every part.</p> +<p> +He was no sooner out of sight in the lower branches +than Satan entered into Guy's small heart and +prompted him thus:</p> +<p> +"Le's play a joke on him an' clear out."</p> +<p> +Sam's sense of humour beguiled him. They stuffed +Yan's coat and pants with leaves and rubbish, put +them properly together with the head-dress, then +stuck one of his own arrows through the breast of the +coat into the ground and ran away.</p> +<p> +Meanwhile Yan reached the top of the tree and +found that the nest was only one of the fuzz-balls so +common on Fir trees. He called out to his comrades +but got no reply, so came down. At first the ridiculous +dummy seemed funny, then he found that his +coat had been injured and the arrow broken. He +called for his companions, but got no answer; again +and again, without reply. He went to where they +all had intended going, but if they were there they +<span class="left"><a name="235">235</a></span> +hid from him, and feeling himself scurvily deserted +he went back to camp in no very pleasant humour. +They were not there. He sat by the fire awhile, +then, yielding to his habit of industry, he took off his +coat and began to work at the dam.</p> +<p> +He became engrossed in his work and did not +notice the return of the runaways till he heard a +voice saying "What's this?"</p> +<p> +On turning he saw Sam poring over his private +note-book and then beginning to read aloud:</p> + +<p class="indent"> +"Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird +Thou art——" +</p> +<p> +But Yan snatched it out of his hands.</p> +<p> +"I'll bet the rest was something about 'Singbird,'" +said Sam.</p> +<p> +Yan's face was burning with shame and anger. +He had a poetic streak, and was morbidly sensitive +about any one seeing its product. The Kingbird +episode of their long evening walk was but one of +many similar. He had learned to delight in these +daring attacks of the intrepid little bird on the Hawks +and Crows, and so magnified them into high heroics +until he must try to record them in rhyme. It was +very serious to him, and to have his sentiments afford +sport to the others was more than he could bear. Of +course Guy came out and grinned, taking his cue from +Sam. Then he remarked in colourless tones, as though +announcing an item of general news, "They say there +was a fearless-crested Injun shot in the woods to-day."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="236">236</a></span> +The morning's desertion left Yan in no mood for +chaffing. He rightly attributed the discourtesy to +Guy. Turning savagely toward him he said, +meaningly:</p> +<p> +"Now, no more of your sass, you dirty little +sneak."</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch127.gif" width="114" height="216" alt="Guy reciting" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +"I ain't talkin' to you," Guy snickered, and +followed Sam into the teepee. There were low voices +within for a time. Yan went over toward the dam +and began to plug mud into some possible holes. +Presently there was more snickering in the teepee, +then Guy came out alone, struck a theatrical attitude +and began to recite to a tree above Yan's +head:</p> + +<p class="indent2"> +"Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird,<br /> +Thou art but a blooming sing bird—" +</p> +<p> +But the mud was very handy and Yan hurled a +mass that spattered Guy thoroughly and sent him +giggling into the teepee.</p> +<p> +"Them's the bow-kays," Sam was heard to say. +"Go out an' git some more; dead sure you deserve 'em. +Let <i>me</i> know when the calls for 'author' begin?" +Then there was more giggling. Yan was fast losing +all control of himself. He seized a big stick and +strode into the teepee, but Sam lifted the cover of +the far side and slipped out. Guy tried to do the +same, but Yan caught him.</p> +<p> +"Here, I ain't doin' nothin'."</p> +<p> +The answer was a sounding whack which made him +wriggle.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="237">237</a></span> +"You let me alone, you big coward. I ain't doin' +nothin' to you. You better let me alone. Sam! +S–A–M! S–A–A–A–M!!!" as the stick came down again +and again.</p> +<p> +"Don't bother me," shouted Sam outside. "I'm +writin' poethry—terrible partic'lar job, poethry. He +only means it in kindness, anyhow."</p> +<p> +Guy was screaming now and weeping copiously.</p> +<p> +"You'll get some more if you give me any more of +your lip," said Yan, and stepped out to meet Sam with +the note-book again, apparently scribbling away. +As soon as he saw Yan he stood up, cleared his +throat and began:</p> + +<p class="indent"> +"Kingbird, fearless crested—" +</p> +<p> +But he did not finish it. Yan struck him a savage +blow on the mouth. Sam sprang back a few steps. +Yan seized a large stone.</p> +<p> +"Don't you throw that at me," said Sam seriously. +Yan sent it with his deadliest force and aim. Sam +dodged it and then in self-defense ran at Yan and +they grappled and fought, while Guy, eager for +revenge, rushed to help Sam, and got in a few trifling +blows.</p> +<p> +Sam was heavier and stronger than Yan, but Yan +had gained wonderfully since coming to Sanger. +He was thin, but wiry, and at school he had learned +the familiar hip-throw that is as old as Cain and Abel. +It was all he did know of wrestling, but now it stood +him in good stead. He was strong with rage, too— +and almost as soon as they grappled he found his +<span class="left"><a name="238">238</a></span> +chance. Sam's heels flew up and he went sprawling +in the dust. One straight blow on the nose sent Guy +off howling, and seeing Sam once more on his feet, +Yan rushed at him again like a wild beast. A +moment later the big boy went tumbling over the +bank into the pond.</p> +<p> +"<i>You</i> see if I don't get you sent about your business +from here," spluttered Sam, now thoroughly +angry. "I'll tell Da you hender the wurruk." His +eyes were full of water and Guy's were full of stars +and of tears. Neither saw the fourth party near; +but Yan did. There, not twenty yards away, stood +William Raften, spectator of the whole affair—an +expression not of anger but of infinite sorrow and +disappointment on his face—not because they had +quarrelled—no—he knew boy nature well enough +not to give that a thought—but that <i>his</i> son, older +and stronger than the other and backed by another +boy, should be licked in fair fight by a thin, half-invalid.</p> +<p> +It was as bitter a pill as he had ever had to swallow. +He turned in silence and disappeared, and never +afterward alluded to the matter.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="239">239</a></span> +<p class="center"><img src="images/illus11a.jpg" width="560" height="839" alt="There stood Raften, spectator of the whole affair" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="241">241</a></span> +<h3><a name="2XV">XV</a></h3> +<h3>The Peace of Minnie</h3> + +<p> +That night the two avoided each other. Yan ate +but little, and to Mrs. Raften's kindly solicitous +questions he said he was not feeling well.</p> +<p> +After supper they were sitting around the table, +the men sleepily silent, Yan and Sam moodily so. +Yan had it all laid out in his mind now. Sam would +make a one-sided report of the affair; Guy would +sustain him. Raften himself was witness of Yan's +violence.</p> +<p> +The merry days at Sanger were over. He was +doomed, and felt like a condemned felon awaiting +the carrying out of the sentence. There was only +one lively member of the group. That was little +Minnie. She was barely three, but a great chatterbox. +Like all children, she dearly loved a "secret," +and one of her favourite tricks was to beckon to +some one, laying her pinky finger on her pinker lips, +and then when they stooped she would whisper in +their ear, "Don't tell." That was all. It was her +Idea of a "seek-it."</p> +<p> +She was playing at her brother's knee. He +picked her up and they whispered to each other, +then she scrambled down and went to Yan. He +lifted her with a tenderness that was born of the +<span class="left"><a name="242">242</a></span> +thought that she alone loved him now. She beckoned +his head down, put her chubby arms around his +neck and whispered, "<i>Don't tell</i>," then slid down, +holding her dear innocent little finger warningly +before her mouth.</p> +<p> +What did it mean? Had Sam told her to do that, +or was it a mere repetition of her old trick? No +matter, it brought a rush of warm feeling into Yan's +heart. He coaxed the little cherub back and +whispered, "No, Minnie, I'll never tell." He began +to see how crazy he had been. Sam was such a good +fellow, he was very fond of him, and he wanted to +make up; but no—with Sam holding threats of +banishment over him, he could not ask for forgiveness. +No, he would do nothing but wait and see.</p> +<p> +He met Mr. Raften again and again that evening +and nothing was said. He slept little that night +and was up early. He met Mr. Raften alone—rather +tried to meet him alone. He wanted to have it over +with. He was one of the kind not prayed for in the +Litany that crave "sudden death." But Raften +was unchanged. At breakfast Sam was as usual, +except to Yan, and not very different to him. He +had a swelling on his lip that he said he got "tusslin' +with the boys somehow or nuther."</p> +<p> +After breakfast Raften said:</p> +<p> +"Yahn, I want you to come with me to the +schoolhouse."</p> +<p> +"It's come at last," thought Yan, for the schoolhouse +was on the road to the railroad station. But +<span class="left"><a name="243">243</a></span> +why did not Raften say "the station"? He was not a +man to mince words. Nothing was said about his +handbag either, and there was no room for it in the +buggy anyway.</p> +<p> +Raften drove in silence. There was nothing +unusual in that. At length he said:</p> +<p> +"Yahn, what's yer father goin' to make of ye?"</p> +<p> +"An artist," said Yan, wondering what this had to +do with his dismissal.</p> +<p> +"Does an artist hev to be bang-up eddicated?"</p> +<p> +"They're all the better for it."</p> +<p> +"Av coorse, av coorse, that's what I tell Sam. +It's eddication that counts. Does artists make +much money?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, some of them. The successful ones sometimes +make millions."</p> +<p> +"Millions? I guess not. Ain't you stretchin' +it just a leetle?"</p> +<p> +"No, sir. Turner made a million. Titian lived +in a palace, and so did Raphael."</p> +<p> +"Hm. Don't know 'em, but maybe so—maybe +so. It's wonderful what eddication does—that's +what I tell Sam."</p> +<img src="images/sketch128.gif" alt="Turner made a million" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="291" height="159" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p> +They now drew near the schoolhouse. It was +holiday time, but the door was open and on the steps +were two graybearded men. They nodded to Raften. +These men were the school trustees. One of them +was Char-less Boyle; the other was old Moore, poor as +a church mouse, but a genial soul, and really put on +the Board as a lubricant between Boyle and Raften. +<span class="left"><a name="244">244</a></span> +Boyle was much the more popular. But Raften +was always made trustee, for the people knew that +he would take extremely good care of funds and +school as well as of scholars.</p> +<p> +This was a special meeting called to arrange for +a new schoolhouse. Raften got out a lot of papers, +including letters from the Department of Education. +The School District had to find half the money; the +Department would supply the other half if all conditions +were complied with. Chief of these, the +schoolhouse had to have a given number of cubic feet +of air for each pupil. This was very important, but +how were they to know in advance if they had the +minimum and were not greatly over. It would not do +to ask the Department that. They could not consult +the teacher, for he was away now and probably would +cheat them with more air than was needed. It was +Raften who brilliantly solved this frightful mathematical +problem and discovered a doughty champion +in the thin, bright-eyed child.</p> +<p> +"Yahn," he said, offering him a two-foot rule, "can +ye tell me how many foot of air is in this room for +every scholar when the seats is full?"</p> +<p> +"You mean cubic feet?"</p> +<p> +"Le's see," and Raften and Moore, after stabbing +at the plans with huge forefingers and fumbling +cumberously at the much-pawed documents, +said together: "Yes, it says cubic feet." Yan +quickly measured the length of the room and took +the height with the map-lifter. The three graybeards +<span class="left"><a name="245">245</a></span> +gazed with awe and admiration as they saw how +<i>sure</i> he seemed. He then counted the seats and said, +"Do you count the teacher?" The men discussed this +point, then decided, "Maybe ye better; he uses +more wind than any of them. Ha, ha!"</p> +<p> +Yan made a few figures on paper, then said, "Twenty +feet, rather better."</p> +<p> +"Luk at thot," said Raften in a voice of bullying +and triumph; "jest agrees with the Gover'ment +Inspector. I <i>towld</i> ye he could. Now let's put the +new buildin' to test."</p> +<p> +More papers were pawed over.</p> +<p> +"Yahn, how's this—double as many children, one +teacher an' the buildin' so an' so."</p> +<p> +Yan figured a minute and said, "Twenty-five feet +each."</p> +<p> +"Thar, didn't I tell ye," thundered Raften; "didn't +I say that that dhirty swindler of an architect was +playing us into the conthractor's hands—thought we +wuz simple—a put-up job, the hull durn thing. +Luk at it! They're nothing but a gang of thieves."</p> +<p> +Yan glanced at the plan that was being flourished +in the air.</p> +<p> +"Hold on," he said, with an air of authority that +he certainly never before had used to Raften, "there's +the lobby and cloak-room to come off." He subtracted +their bulk and found the plan all right—the Government +minimum of air.</p> +<p> +Boyle's eye had now just a little gleam of +triumphant malice. Raften seemed actually disappointed +<span class="left"><a name="246">246</a></span> +not to have found some roguery.</p> +<p> +"Well, they're a shcaly lot, anyhow. They'll +bear watchin'," he added, in tones of self-justification.</p> +<p> +"Now, Yahn, last year the township was assessed +at $265,000 an' we raised $265 with a school-tax of +wan mill on the dollar. This year the new assessment +gives $291,400; how much will the same tax +raise if cost of collecting is same?"</p> +<p> +"Two hundred and ninety-one dollars and forty +cents," said Yan, without hesitation—and the three +men sat back in their chairs and gasped.</p> +<p> +It was the triumph of his life. Even old Boyle +beamed in admiration, and Raften glowed, feeling +that not a little of it belonged to him.</p> +<p> +There was something positively pathetic in the +simplicity of the three shrewd men and their abject +reverence for the wonderful scholarship of this raw +boy, and not less touching was their absolute faith in +his infallibility as a mathematician.</p> +<p> +Raften grinned at him in a peculiar, almost a +weak way. Yan had never seen that expression on +his face before, excepting once, and that was as he +shook hands with a noted pugilist just after he had +won a memorable fight. Yan did not know whether +he liked it or not.</p> +<p> +On the road home Raften talked with unusual +freeness about his plans for his son. (Yan began to +realize that the storm had blown over.) He harped +on his favourite theme, "eddication." If Yan had +only known, that was the one word of comfort that +<span class="left"><a name="247">247</a></span> +Raften found when he saw his big boy go down: "It's +eddication done it. Oh, but he's fine eddicated." +Yan never knew until years afterward, when a grown +man and he and Raften were talking of the old days, +that he had been for some time winning respect +from the rough-and-ready farmer, but what finally +raised him to glorious eminence was the hip-throw +that he served that day on Sam.</p> +<br /><br /> +<hr class="medium" /> +<br /><br /> +<p> +Raften was all right, Yan believed, but what of +Sam? They had not spoken yet. Yan wished to +make up, but it grew harder. Sam had got over his +wrath and wanted a chance, but did not know how.</p> +<p> +He had just set down his two buckets after feeding +the pigs when Minnie came toddling out.</p> +<p> +"Sam! Sam! Take Minnie to 'ide," then seeing +Yan she added, "Yan, you mate a tair, tate hold +Sam's hand."</p> +<p> +The queen must be obeyed. Sam and Yan sheepishly +grasped hands to make a queen's chair for the +little lady. She clutched them both around the neck +and brought their heads close together. They both +loved the pink-and-white baby between them, and +both could talk to her though not to each other. But +there is something in touch that begets comprehension. +The situation was becoming ludicrous when +Sam suddenly burst out laughing, then:</p> +<p> +"Say, Yan, let's be friends."</p> +<p> +"I—I want—to—be," stammered Yan, with tears +standing in his eyes. "I'm awfully sorry. I'll never +<span class="left"><a name="248">248</a></span> +do it again."</p> +<img src="images/sketch129.gif" alt="discord" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="293" height="158" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p> +"Oh, shucks! I don't care," said Sam. "It was +all that dirty little sneak that made the trouble; but +never mind, it's all right. The only thing that +worries me is how you sent me flying. I'm bigger +an' stronger an' older, I can heft more an' work +harder, but you throwed me like a bag o' shavings, +I only wish I knowed how you done it."</p> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch130.gif" width="214" height="203" alt="Hatchet bury. Light the pipe" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="249">249</a></span> +<h3>PART <a name="III">III</a>.</h3> + +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="251">251</a></span> +<h3><a name="3I">I</a></h3> +<h3>Really in the Woods</h3> + +<p><img src="images/sketch053.gif" width="100" height="107" align="left" hspace="10" alt="Y" border="0" /> +E seem to waste a powerful lot o' +time goin' up an' down to yer +camp; why don't ye stay thayer +altogether?" said Raften one day, +in the colourless style that always +worried every one, for they did not +know whether it was really meant +or was mere sarcasm.</p> +<p> +"Suits me. 'Tain't our choice to come home," +replied his son.</p> +<p> +"We'd like nothing better than to sleep there, +too," said Yan.</p> +<p> +"Well, why don't ye? That's what I'd do if I +was a boy playin' Injun; I'd go right in an' play."</p> +<p> +"<i>All right now</i>," drawled Sam (he always drawled +in proportion to his emphasis), "that suits us; now +we're a-going sure."</p> +<p> +"All right, bhoys," said Raften; "but mind ye +the pigs an' cattle's to be 'tended to every day."</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch132.gif" alt="Teepee" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="125" height="150" border="0" /> +"Is that what ye call lettin' us camp out—come +home to work jest the same?"</p> +<p> +"No, no, William," interposed Mrs. Raften; "that's +not fair. That's no way to give them a holiday. +Either do it or don't. Surely one of the men can +<span class="left"><a name="252">252</a></span> +do the chores for a month."</p> +<p> +"Month—I didn't say nothin' about a month."</p> +<p> +"Well, why don't you now?"</p> +<p> +"Whoi, a month would land us into harvest," +and William had the air of a man at bay, finding +them all against him.</p> +<p> +"I'll do Yahn's chores for a fortnight if he'll give +me that thayer pictur he drawed of the place," +now came in Michel's voice from the far end of the +table—"except Sunday," he added, remembering a +standing engagement, which promised to result in +something of vast importance to him.</p> +<p> +"Wall, I'll take care o' them Sundays," said Si +Lee.</p> +<p> +"Yer all agin me," grumbled William with comical +perplexity. "But bhoys ought to be bhoys. Ye +kin go."</p> +<p> +"Whoop!" yelled Sam.</p> +<p> +"Hooray!" joined in Yan, with even more interest +though with less unrestraint.</p> +<p> +"But howld on, I ain't through—"</p> +<p> +"I say, Da, we want your gun. We can't go +camping without a gun."</p> +<p> +"Howld on, now. Give me a chance to finish. +Ye can go fur two weeks, but ye got to <i>go</i>; no snakin' +home nights to sleep. Ye can't hev no matches +an' no gun. I won't hev a lot o' children foolin' +wid a didn't-know-it-was-loaded, an' shootin' all +the birds and squirrels an' each other, too. Ye kin +hev yer bows an' arrows an' ye ain't likely to do no +<span class="left"><a name="253">253</a></span> +harrum. Ye kin hev all the mate an' bread an' stuff +ye want, but ye must cook it yerselves, an' if I see +any signs of settin' the Woods afire I'll be down wid +the rawhoide an' cut the very livers out o' ye."</p> +<img src="images/sketch133.gif" width="240" height="141" alt="Didn't-know-it-was-loaded fool" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p> +The rest of the morning was devoted to preparation, +Mrs. Raften taking the leading hand.</p> +<p> +"Now, who's to be cook?" she asked.</p> +<p> +"Sam"—"Yan"—said the boys in the same +breath.</p> +<p> +"Hm! You seem in one mind about it. Suppose +you take it turn and turn about—Sam first +day."</p> +<p> +Then followed instructions for making coffee in +the morning, boiling potatoes, frying bacon. Bread +and butter enough they were to take with them—eggs, +too.</p> +<p> +"You better come home for milk every day or +every other day, at least," remarked the mother.</p> +<p> +"We'd ruther steal it from the cows in the pasture," +ventured Sam, "seems naturaler to me Injun blood."</p> +<p> +"If I ketch ye foolin' round the cows or sp'ilin' +them the fur'll fly," growled Raften.</p> +<p> +"Well, kin we hook apples and cherries?" and +Sam added in explanation; "they're no good to us +unless they're hooked."</p> +<p> +"Take all the fruit ye want."</p> +<p> +"An' potatoes?"</p> +<p> +"Yes."</p> +<p> +"An' aigs?"</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="254">254</a></span> +"Well, if ye don't take more'n ye need."</p> +<p> +"An' cakes out of the pantry? Indians do that."</p> +<p> +"No; howld on now. That is a good place to draw +the line. How are ye goin' to get yer stuff down +thayer? It's purty heavy. Ye see thayer are yer +beds an' pots an' pans, as well as food."</p> +<p> +"We'll have to take a wagon to the swamp and +then carry them on our backs on the blazed trail," +said Sam, and explained "our backs" by pointing +to Michel and Si at work in the yard.</p> +<p> +"The road goes as far as the creek," suggested +Yan; "let's make a raft there an' take the lot in it +down to the swimming-pond; that'd be real Injun."</p> +<p> +"What'll ye make the raft of?" asked Raften.</p> +<p> +"Cedar rails nailed together," answered Sam.</p> +<p> +"No nails in mine," objected Yan; "that isn't +Injun."</p> +<p> +"An' none o' my cedar rails fur that. 'Pears +to me it'd be less work an' more Injun to pack the +stuff on yer backs an' no risk o' wettin' the beds."</p> +<p> +So the raft was given up, and the stuff was duly +carted to the creek's side. Raften himself went +with it. He was a good deal of a boy at heart and +he was much in sympathy with the plan. His +remarks showed a mixture of interest, and doubt as +to the wisdom of letting himself take so much interest.</p> +<p> +"Hayre, load me up," he said, much to the surprise +of the boys, as they came to the creek's edge. +His broad shoulders carried half of the load. The +blazed trail was only two hundred yards long, and +in two trips the stuff was all dumped down in front +<span class="left"><a name="255">255</a></span> +of the teepee.</p> +<p> +Sam noted with amusement the unexpected +enthusiasm of his father. "Say, Da, you're just as +bad as we are. I believe you'd like to join us."</p> +<p> +"'Moinds me o' airly days here," was the reply, +with a wistful note in his voice. "Many a night +me an' Caleb Clark slep' out this way on this very +crick when them fields was solid bush. Do ye +know how to make a bed?"</p> +<p> +"Don't know a thing," and Sam winked at Yan. +"Show us."</p> +<p> +"I'll show ye the rale thing. Where's the axe?"</p> +<p> +"Haven't any," said Yan. "There's a big tomahawk +and a little tomahawk."</p> +<p> +Raften grinned, took the big "tomahawk" and +pointed to a small Balsam Fir. "Now there's a +foine bed-tree." +<img src="images/255frame.gif" width="127" height="208" alt="bedframe" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /></p> +<p> +"Why, that's a fire-tree, too," said Yan, as with +two mighty strokes Raften sent it toppling down, +then rapidly trimmed it of its flat green boughs. A +few more strokes brought down a smooth young +Ash and cut it into four pieces, two of them seven feet +long and two of them five feet. Next he cut a +White Oak sapling and made four sharp pegs each +two feet long.</p> + +<p> +"Now, boys, whayer do you want yer bed?" +then stopping at a thought he added, "Maybe +ye didn't want me to help—want to do everything +yerselves?"</p> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="256">256</a></span> +"Ugh, bully good squaw. Keep it up—wagh!" +said his son and heir, as he calmly sat on a log and +wore his most "Injun brave" expression of haughty +approval. +<img src="images/255bboughs.gif" alt="overlapping boughs" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="200" height="41" border="0" /> +</p> +<p> +The father turned with an inquiring glance to Yan, +who replied:</p> +<p> +"We're mighty glad of your help. You see, we +don't know how. It seems to me that I read once +the best place in the teepee is opposite the door +and a little to one side. Let's make it here." So +Raften placed the four logs for the sides and ends of +the bed and drove in the ground the four stakes +to hold them. Yan brought in several armfuls of +branches, and Raften proceeded to lay them like +shingles, beginning at the head-log of the bed and +lapping them very much. It took all the fir boughs, +but when all was done there was a solid mass of soft +green tips a foot thick, all the butts being at the +ground.</p> +<p> +"Thayer," said Raften, "that's an <i>Injun feather +bed</i> an' safe an' warrum. Slapin' on the ground's +terrible dangerous, but that's all right. Now make +your bed on that." Sam and Yan did so, and when +it was finished Raften said: "Now, fetch that little +canvas I told yer ma to put in; that's to fasten to the +poles for an inner tent over the bed."</p> +<p> +Yan stood still and looked uncomfortable.</p> +<p> +"Say, Da, look at Yan. He's got that tired look +that he wears when the rules is broke."</p> +<p> +"What's wrong," asked Raften.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="257">257</a></span> +"Indians don't have them that I ever heard of," +said Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"Yan, did ye iver hear of a teepee linin' or a dew-cloth?"</p> +<p> +"Yes," was the answer, in surprise at the unexpected +knowledge of the farmer.</p> +<p> +"Do ye know what they're like?"</p> +<p> +"No—at least—no—"</p> +<p> +"Well, <i>I do</i>; that's what it's like. That's something +I do know, fur I seen old Caleb use wan."</p> +<p> +"Oh, I remember reading about it now, and they +are like that, and it's on them that the Indians paint +their records. Isn't that bully," as he saw Raften +add two long inner stakes which held the dew-cloth +like a canopy.</p> +<p> +"Say, Da, I never knew you and Caleb were hunting +together. Thought ye were jest natural born +enemies."</p> +<p> +"Humph!" grunted Raften. "We wuz chums oncet. +Never had no fault to find till we swapped horses."</p> +<p> +"Sorry you ain't now, 'cause he's sure sharp in the +woods."</p> +<p> +"He shouldn't a-tried to make an orphan out o' +you."</p> +<p> +"Are you sure he done it?"</p> +<p> +"If 'twasn't him I dunno who 'twas. Yan, fetch +some of them pine knots thayer."</p> +<p> +Yan went after the knots; it was some yards into +the woods, and out there he was surprised to see a +tall man behind a tree. A second's glance showed +it to be Caleb. The Trapper laid one finger on his +<span class="left"><a name="258">258</a></span> +lips and shook his head. Yan nodded assent, gathered +the knots, and went back to the camp, where +Sam continued:</p> +<p> +"You skinned him out of his last cent, old Boyle +says."</p> +<p> +"An' whoi not, when he throid to shkin me? +Before that I was helpin' him, an' fwhat must he do +but be ahfter swappin' horses. He might as well ast me +to play poker and then squeal when I scooped the pile. +Naybours is wan thing an' swappin' horses is another. +All's fair in a horse trade, an' friends didn't orter +swap horses widout they kin stand the shkinnin'. +That's a game by itself. Oi would 'a' helped him +jest the same afther that swap an' moore, fur he +wuz good stuff, but he must nades shoot at me that +noight as I come home wit the wad, so av coorse——"</p> +<p> +"I wish ye had a Dog now," said the farmer in +the new tone of a new subject; "tramps is a nuisance +at all toimes, an' a Dog is the best med'cine for them. +I don't believe old Cap'd stay here; but maybe +yer near enough to the house so they won't bother +ye. An' now I guess the Paleface will go back +to the settlement. I promised ma that I'd see +that yer bed wuz all right, an' if ye sleep warrum +an' dry an' hev plenty to ate ye'll take no harrum."</p> +<p> +So he turned away, but as he was quitting the +clearing he stopped,—the curious boyish interest was +gone from his face, the geniality from his voice—then +in his usual stern tones of command:</p> +<span class="left"><a name="259">259</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus12a.jpg" width="598" height="871" alt="If ye kill any Song-birds, I'll use the rawhoide on ye" border="0" /> +</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="261">261</a></span> +"Now, bhoys, ye kin shoot all the Woodchucks +yer a mind ter, fur they are a nuisance in the field. +Yer kin kill Hawks an' Crows an' Jays, fur they +kill other birds, an' Rabbits an' Coons, fur they +are fair game; but I don't want to hear of yer killin' +any Squirrels or Chipmunks or Song-birds, an' if +ye do I'll stop the hull thing an' bring ye back to +wurruk, an' use the rawhoide on tap o' that."</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="262">262</a></span> +<h3><a name="3II">II</a></h3> +<h3>The First Night and Morning</h3> + +<p> +It was a strange new feeling that took possession +of the boys as they saw Mr. Raften go, and when +his step actually died away on the blazed trail +they felt that they were really and truly alone in the +woods and camping out. To Yan it was the realization +of many dreams, and the weirdness of it was +helped by the remembrance of the tall old man +he had seen watching them from behind the trees. +He made an excuse to wander out there, but of +course Caleb was gone.</p> +<p> +"Fire up," Sam presently called out. Yan was +the chief expert with the rubbing-sticks, and within +a minute or two he had the fire going in the middle +of the teepee and Sam set about preparing the +evening meal. This was supposed to be Buffalo +meat and Prairie roots (beef and potatoes). It was +eaten rather quietly, and then the boys sat down +on the opposite sides of the fire. The conversation +dragged, then died a natural death; each was busy +with his thoughts, and there was, moreover, an impressive +and repressive something or other all around +them. Not a stillness, for there were many sounds, +but beyond those a sort of voiceless background +that showed up all the myriad voices. Some of +<span class="left"><a name="263">263</a></span> +these were evidently Bird, some Insect, and a few +were recognized as Tree-frog notes. In the near +stream were sounds of splashing or a little plunge.</p> +<img src="images/sketch135.gif" alt="Night noises" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="351" height="456" border="0" /> + +<p> +"Must be Mushrat," whispered Sam to the unspoken +query of his friend.</p> +<p> +A loud, far "Oho-oho-oho" was familiar to both +as the cry of the Horned Owl, but a strange long +wail rang out from the trees overhead.</p> +<p> +"What's that?"</p> +<p> +"Don't know," was all they whispered, and both +felt very uncomfortable. The solemnity and mystery +of the night was on them and weighing more heavily +with the waning light. The feeling was oppressive. +Neither had courage enough to propose going to +the house or their camping would have ended. Sam +arose and stirred the fire, looked around for more +wood, and, seeing none, he grumbled (to himself) and +stepped outside in the darkness to find some. It +was not till long afterward that he admitted having +had to <i>dare</i> himself to step out into the darkness. +He brought in some sticks and fastened the door +as tightly as possible. The blazing fire in the teepee +was cheering again. The boys perhaps did not +realize that there was actually a tinge of homesickness +in their mood, yet both were thinking of +the comfortable circle at the house. The blazing +fire smoked a little, and Sam said:</p> +<p> +"Kin you fix that to draw? You know more +about it 'an me."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="264">264</a></span> +Yan now forced himself to step outside. The +wind was rising and had changed. He swung +the smoke poles till the vent was quartering down, +then hoarsely whispered, "How's that?"</p> +<p> +"That's better," was the reply in a similar tone, +though there was no obvious difference yet.</p> +<p> +He went inside with nervous haste and fastened +up the entrance.</p> +<p> +"Let's make a good fire and go to bed."</p> +<p> +So they turned in after partly undressing, but +not to sleep for hours. Yan in particular was in +a state of nervous excitement. His heart had +beaten violently when he went out that time, and +even now that mysterious dread was on him. The +fire was the one comfortable thing. He dozed off, +but started up several times at some slight sound. +Once it was a peculiar "<i>Tick, tick, scr-a-a-a-a-pe, +lick-scra-a-a-a-a-a-pe,"</i> down the teepee over his +head. "<i>A Bear</i>" was his first notion, but on second +thoughts he decided it was only a leaf sliding down +the canvas. Later he was roused by a "<i>Scratch, +scratch, scratch</i>" close to him. He listened silently +for some time. This was no leaf; it was an <i>animal!</i> +Yes, surely—it was a Mouse. He slapped the +canvas violently and "hissed" till it went away, +but as he listened he heard again that peculiar wail +in the tree-tops. It almost made his hair sit up. +He reached out and poked the fire together into a +blaze. All was still and in time he dozed off. Once +more he was wide awake in a flash and saw Sam +sitting up in bed listening.</p><br /> +<img src="images/sketch136.gif" width="277" height="124" alt="Only a mouse" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="266">266</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus13a.jpg" width="640" height="411" alt="Where's the axe?" border="0" /></p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="267">267</a></span> +"What is it, Sam?" he whispered.</p> +<p> +"I dunno. Where's the axe?"</p> +<p> +"Right here."</p> +<p> +"Let me have it on my side. You kin have the +hatchet."</p> +<p> +But they dropped off at last and slept soundly +till the sun was strong on the canvas and filling the +teepee with a blaze of transmitted light.</p> +<p> +"Woodpecker! Woodpecker! Get up! Get up! +Hi-e-yo! Hi-e-yo! Double-u-double-o-d-bang-fizz- +whackety-whack-y-r-chuck-brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-Woodpecker," +shouted Yan to his sleepy chum, quoting a +phrase that Sam when a child had been taught as +the true spelling of his nickname.</p> +<p> +Sam woke slowly, but knowing perfectly where he +was, and drawled:</p> +<p> +"Get up yourself. You're cook to-day, an' I'll +take my breakfast in bed. Seems like my knee is +broke out again."</p> +<p> +"Oh, get up, and let's have a swim before breakfast."</p> +<p> +"No, thank you, I'm too busy just now; 'sides, it's +both cold and wet in that pond, this time o' day."</p> +<p> +The morning was fresh and bright; many birds +were singing, although it was July, a Red-eyed +Vireo and a Robin were in full song; and as Yan rose +to get the breakfast he wondered why he had been +haunted by such strange feelings the night before. +It was incomprehensible now. He wished that +appalling wail in the tree-tops would sound again, +so he might trace it home.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="268">268</a></span> +There still were some live coals in the ashes, and +in a few minutes he had a blazing fire, with the pot +boiling for coffee, and the bacon in the fryer singing +sweetest music for the hungry.</p> +<p> +Sam lay on his back watching his companion and +making critical remarks.</p> +<p> +"You may be an A1 cook—at least, I hope you +are, but you don't know much about fire-wood," said +he. "Now look at that," as one huge spark after +another exploded from the fire and dropped on the +bed and the teepee cover.</p> +<p> +"How can I help it?"</p> +<p> +"I'll bet Da's best cow against your jack-knife +you got some Ellum or Hemlock in that fire."</p> +<p> +"Well, I have," Yan admitted, with an air of +surrender.</p> +<p> +"My son," said the Great Chief Woodpecker, "no +sparking allowed in the teepee. Beech, Maple, +Hickory or Ash never spark. Pine knots an' roots +don't, but they make smoke like—like—oh—you +know. Hemlock, Ellum, Chestnut, Spruce and +Cedar is public sparkers, an' not fit for dacint teepee +sassiety. Big Injun heap hate noisy, crackling fire. +Enemy hear that, an'—an'—it burns his bedclothes."</p> +<p> +"All right, Grandpa," and the cook made a mental +note, then added in tones of deadly menace, "You +get up now, do you understand!" and he picked up +a bucket of water.</p> +<p> +"That might scare the Great Chief Woodpecker if +the Great Chief Cook had a separate bed, but now +he smiles kind o' scornful," was all the satisfaction +<span class="left"><a name="269">269</a></span> +he got. Then seeing that breakfast really was +ready, Sam scrambled out a few minutes later. The +coffee acted like an elixir—their spirits rose, and +before the meal was ended it would have been hard +to find two more hilarious and enthusiastic campers. +Even the vague terrors of the night were now sources +of amusement.</p> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch137.gif" width="105" height="171" alt="enthusiastic camper" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="270">270</a></span> +<h3><a name="3III">III</a></h3> +<h3>A Crippled Warrior and the Mud Albums</h3> + +<p> +"Say, Sam; what about Guy? Do we want him?"</p> +<p> +"Well, it's just like this. If it was at school +or any other place I wouldn't be bothered with +the dirty little cuss, but out in the woods like this +one feels kind o' friendly, an' three's better than two. +Besides, he has been admitted to the Tribe already."</p> +<p> +"Yes, that's what I say. Let's give him a <i>yell</i>."</p> +<p> +So the boys uttered a long yell, produced by alternating +the voice between a high falsetto and a natural +tone. This was the "yell," and had never failed +to call Guy forth to join them unless he had some +chore on hand and his "Paw" was too near to +prevent his renegading to the Indians. He soon +appeared waving a branch, the established signal +that he came as a friend.</p> +<p> +He came very slowly, however, and the boys saw +that he limped frightfully, helping himself along +with a stick. He was barefoot, as usual, but his +left foot was swaddled in a bundle of rags.</p> +<p> +"Hello, Sappy; what happened? Out to Wounded +Knee River?"<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch139.gif" width="151" height="166" alt="the wounded war-chief" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="271">271</a></span> +<p class="center"><img src="images/illus14a.jpg" width="572" height="777" alt="He soon appeared, waving a branch" border="0" /></p> + +<span class="left"><a name="273">273</a></span> +<p> +"Nope. Struck luck. Paw was bound I'd ride +the Horse with the scuffler all day, but he gee'd too +short an' I arranged to tumble off'n him, an' Paw +cuffled me foot some. Law! how I did holler! +You should 'a' heard me."</p> +<p> +"Bet we did," said Sam. "When was it?"</p> +<p> +"Yesterday about four."</p> +<p> +"Exactly. We heard an awful screech and Yan +says, says he, 'There's the afternoon train at Kelly's +Crossing, but ain't she late?'</p> +<p> +"'Train!' says I. 'Pooh. I'll bet that's Guy +Burns getting a new licking.'"</p> +<p> +"Guess I'll well up now," said War Chief Sapwood, +so stripped his foot, revealing a scratch that would +not have cost a thought had he got it playing ball. +He laid the rags away carefully and with them +every trace of the limp, then entered heartily into +camp life.</p> +<p> +The vast advantage of being astir early now was +seen. There were Squirrels in every other tree, +there were birds on every side, and when they ran +to the pond a wild Duck spattered over the surface +and whistled out of sight.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch140.gif" width="104" height="188" alt="skunk track" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +"What you got?" called Sam, as he saw Yan +bending eagerly over something down by the pond.</p> +<p> +Yan did not answer, and so Sam went over and +saw him studying out a mark in the mud. He +was trying to draw it in his note-book.</p> +<p> +"What is it?" repeated Sam.</p> +<p> +"Don't know. Too stubby for a Muskrat, too +much claw for a Cat, too small for a Coon, too +many toes for a Mink."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="274">274</a></span> +"I'll bet it's a Whangerdoodle."</p> +<p> +Yan merely chuckled in answer to this.</p> +<p> +"Don't you laugh," said the Woodpecker, solemnly, +"You'd be more apt to cry if you seen one walk into +the teepee blowing the whistle at the end of his tail. +Then it'd be, 'Oh, Sam, where's the axe?'"</p> +<p> +"Tell you what I do believe it is," said Yan, not +noticing this terrifying description; "it's a Skunk."</p> +<p> +"Little Beaver, my son! I thought I would tell +you, then I sez to meself, 'No; it's better for him +to find out by his lone. Nothing like a struggle in +early life to develop the stuff in a man. It don't +do to help him too much,' sez I, an' so I didn't."</p> +<p> +Here Sam condescendingly patted the Second War +Chief on the head and nodded approvingly. Of +course he did not know as much about the track as +Yan did, but he prattled on:</p> +<p> +"Little Beaver! you're a heap struck on tracks—Ugh—good! +You kin tell by them everything that +passes in the night. Wagh! Bully! You're likely +to be the naturalist of our Tribe. But you ain't +got gumption. Now, in this yer hunting-ground +of our Tribe there is only one place where you can +see a track, an' that is that same mud-bank; all the +rest is hard or grassy. Now, what I'd do if I was +a Track-a-mist, I'd give the critters lots o' chance +to leave tracks. I'd fix it all round with places so +nothing could come or go 'thout givin' us his impressions +of the trip. I'd have one on each end of the +trail coming in, an' one on each side of the creek +where it comes in an' goes out."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="275">275</a></span> +"Well, Sam, you have a pretty level head. I +wonder I didn't think of that myself."</p> +<p> +"My son, the Great Chief does the thinking. It's +the rabble—that's you and Sappy—that does the +work."</p> +<p> +But all the same he set about it at once with +Yan, Sappy following with a <i>slight limp now</i>. +They removed the sticks and rubbish for twenty +feet of the trail at each end and sprinkled this with +three or four inches of fine black loam. They cleared +off the bank of the stream at four places, one at each +side where it entered the woods, and one at each +side where it went into the Burns's Bush.</p> +<p> +"Now," said Sam, "there's what I call visitors' +albums like the one that Phil Leary's nine fatties +started when they got their brick house and their +swelled heads, so every one that came in could write +their names an' something about 'this happy, happy, +ne'er-to-be-forgotten visit'—them as could write. +Reckon that's where our visitors get the start, for +all of ours kin write that has feet."</p> +<p> +"Wonder why I didn't think o' that," said Yan, +again and again. "But there's one thing you forget," +he said. "We want one around the teepee."</p> +<p> +This was easily made, as the ground was smooth +and bare there, and Sappy forgot his limp and helped +to carry ashes and sand from the fire-hole. Then +planting his broad feet down in the dust, with many +snickers, he left some very interesting tracks. +<img src="images/sketch141.gif" width="82" height="612" alt="interesting tracks" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +</p> +<p> +"I call that a bare track" said Sam.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="276">276</a></span> +"Go ahead and draw it," giggled Sappy.</p> +<p> +"Why not?" and Yan got out his book.</p> +<p> +"Bet you can't make it life-size," and Sam glanced +from the little note-book to the vast imprint.</p> +<p> +After it was drawn, Sam said, "Guess I'll peel off +and show you a human track." He soon gave an +impression of his foot for the artist, and later Yan +added his own; the three were wholly different.</p> +<p> +"Seems to me it would be about right, if you had +the ways the toes pointed and the distance apart +to show how long the legs wuz."</p> +<p> +Again Sam had given Yan a good idea. From +that time he noted these two points and made his +records much better.</p> +<p> +"Air you fellers roostin' here now?" said Sappy +in surprise, as he noted the bed as well as the pots +and pans.</p> +<p> +"Yep."</p> +<p> +"Well, I wanter, too. If I kin git hol' o' Maw +'thout Paw, it'll be O.K."</p> +<p> +"You let on we don't want you and Paw'll let +you come. Tell him Ole Man Raften ordered +you off the place an' he'll fetch you here himself."</p> +<p> +"I guess there's room enough in that bed fur +three," remarked the Third War Chief.</p> +<p> +"Well, I guess there ain't," said Woodpecker. +"Not when the third one won first prize for being +the dirtiest boy in school. You can get stuff an' +make your own bed, across there on the other side +the fire."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="277">277</a></span> +"Don't know how."</p> +<p> +"We'll show you, only you'll have to go home for +blankets an' grub."</p> +<p> +The boys soon cut a Fir-bough bed, but Guy put +off going home for the blankets as long as he could. +He knew and they suspected that there was no +chance of his rejoining them again that day. So +after sundown he replaced his foot-rags and limped +down the trail homeward, saying, "I'll be back in +a few minutes," and the boys knew perfectly well +that he would not.</p> +<p> +The evening meal was over; they had sat around +wondering if the night would repeat its terrors. +An Owl "Hoo-hoo-ed" in the trees. There was a +pleasing romance in the sound. The boys kept up +the fire till about ten, then retired, determined that +they would not be scared this time. They were +barely off to sleep when the most awful outcry arose +in the near woods, like "a Wolf with a sore throat," +then the yells of a human being in distress. Again +the boys sat up in fright. There was a scuffling +outside—a loud and terrified "Hi—hi—hi—Sam!" +Then an attack was made on the door. It was torn +open, and in tumbled Guy. He was badly frightened; +but when the fire was lighted and he calmed +down a little he confessed that Paw had sent him +to bed, but when all was still he had slipped +out the window, carrying the bedclothes. He was +nearly back to the camp when he decided to +scare the boys by letting off a few wolfish howls, +but he made himself very scary by doing it, and +<span class="left"><a name="278">278</a></span> +when a wild answer came from the tree-tops—a +hideous, blaring screech—he lost all courage, dropped +the bedding, and ran toward the teepee yelling +for help.</p> +<p> +The boys took torches presently and went nervously +in search of the missing blankets. Guy's bed was +made and in an hour they were once more asleep.</p> +<p> +In the morning Sam was up and out first. From +the home trail he suddenly called:</p> +<p> +"Yan, come here."</p> +<p> +"Do you mean me?" said Little Beaver, with +haughty dignity.</p> +<p> +"Yep, Great Chief; git a move on you. Hustle out +here. Made a find. Do you see who was visiting +us last night while we slept?" and he pointed to the +"album" on the inway. "I hain't shined them +shoes every week with soot off the bottom of the pot +without knowin' that one pair of 'em was wore by +Ma an' one of 'em by Da. But let's see how far +they come. Why, I orter looked round the teepee +before tramplin' round." They went back, and +though the trails were much hidden by their own, +they found enough around the doorway to show +that during the night, or more likely late in the +evening, the father and mother had paid them a +visit in secret—had inspected the camp as they +slept, but finding no one stirring and the boys +breathing the deep breath of healthy sleep, they +had left them undisturbed.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="279">279</a></span> +"Say, boys—I mean Great Chiefs—what we want +in camp is a Dog, or one of these nights some one +will steal our teeth out o' our heads an' we won't +know a thing till they come back for the gums. +All Injun camps have Dogs, anyway."</p> +<p> +The next morning the Third War Chief was ordered +out by the Council, first to wash himself clean, then +to act as cook for the day. He grumbled as he +washed, that "'Twan't no good—he'd be all dirty +again in two minutes," which was not far from the +truth. But he went at the cooking with enthusiasm, +which lasted nearly an hour. After this he did not +see any fun in it, and for once he, as well as the +others, began to realize how much was done for +them at home. At noon Sappy set out nothing but +dirty dishes, and explained that so long as each got +his own it was all right. His foot was very troublesome +at meal time also. He said it was the moving +round when he was hurrying that made it so hard +to bear, but in their expedition with bows and +arrows later on he found complete relief.</p> +<p> +"Say, look at the Red-bird," he shouted, as a +Tanager flitted onto a low branch and blazed in the +sun. "Bet I hit him first shot!" and he drew an +arrow.</p> +<p> +"Here you, Saphead," said Sam, "quit that shooting +at little birds. It's bad medicine. It's against the +rules; it brings bad luck—it brings awful bad luck. +I tell you there ain't no worse luck than Da's raw-hide—that +I know."</p> +<img src="images/sketch142.gif" alt="Indian camp, with dogs" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="249" height="160" border="0" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="280">280</a></span> +"Why, what's the good o' playin' Injun if we +can't shoot a blame thing?" protested Sappy.</p> +<p> +"You kin shoot Crows an' Jays if you like, an' +Woodchucks, too."</p> +<p> +"I know where there's a Woodchuck as big as a +Bear."</p> +<p> +"Ah! What size Bear?"</p> +<p> +"Well, it is. You kin laugh all you want to. +He has a den in our clover field, an' he made it so +big that the mower dropped in an' throwed Paw as +far as from here to the crick."</p> +<p> +"An' the horses, how did they get out?"</p> +<p> +"Well! It broke the machine, an' you should +have heard Paw swear. My! but he was a socker. +Paw offered me a quarter if I'd kill the old whaler. +I borrowed a steel trap an' set it in the hole, but +he'd dig out under it an' round it every time. I'll +bet there ain't anything smarter'n an old Woodchuck."</p> +<p> +"Is he there yet?" asked War Chief No. 2.</p> +<p> +"You just bet he is. Why, he has half an acre +of clover all eat up."</p> +<p> +"Let's try to get him," said Yan. "Can we +find him?"</p> +<p> +"Well, I should say so. I never come by but I +see the old feller. He's so big he looks like a calf, +an' so old an' wicked he's gray-headed."</p> +<p> +"Let's have a shot at him," suggested the Woodpecker. +"He's fair game. Maybe your Paw'll +give us a quarter each if we kill him."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="281">281</a></span> +Guy snickered. "Guess you don't know my +Paw," then he giggled bubblously through his nose +again.</p> +<p> +Arrived at the edge of the clover, Sam asked, +"Where's your Woodchuck?"</p> +<p> +"Right in there."</p> +<p> +"I don't see him."</p> +<p> +"Well, he's always here."</p> +<p> +"Not now, you bet."</p> +<p> +"Well, this is the very first time I ever came here +and didn't see him. Oh, I tell you, he's a fright. +I'll bet he's a blame sight bigger'n that stump."</p> +<p> +"Well, here's his track, anyway," said Woodpecker, +pointing to some tracks he had just made +unseen with his own broad palm.</p> +<p> +"Now," said Sappy, in triumph. "Ain't he an +old socker?"</p> +<p> +"Sure enough. You ain't missed any cows +lately, have you? Wonder you ain't scared to live +anyways near!"</p> +<img src="images/sketch143.gif" alt="'Well, here's his track, anyway,' said Woodpecker" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="133" height="172" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="282">282</a></span> +<h3><a name="3IV">IV</a></h3> +<h3>A "Massacree" of Palefaces</h3> + +<p> +"Say, fellers, I know where there's a stavin' Birch +tree—do you want any bark?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, I want some," said Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"But hold on; I guess we better not, coz it's right +on the edge o' our bush, an' Paw's still at the turnips."</p> +<p> +"Now if you want a real war party," said the Head +Chief, "let's massacree the Paleface settlement up +the crick and get some milk. We're just out, and I'd +like to see if the place has changed any."</p> +<p> +So the boys hid their bows and arrows and headdresses, +and, forgetting to take a pail, they followed +in Indian file the blazed trail, carefully turning in +their toes as they went and pointing silently to the +track, making signs of great danger. First they +crawled up, under cover of one of the fences, to +the barn. The doors were open and men working +at something. A pig wandered in from the barnyard. +Then the boys heard a sudden scuffle, and a +squeal from the pig as it scrambled out again, and +Raften's voice: "Consarn them pigs! Them boys +ought to be here to herd them." This was sufficiently +alarming to scare the Warriors off in great +haste. They hid in the huge root-cellar and there +<span class="left"><a name="283">283</a></span> +held a council of war.</p> +<p> +"Here, Great Chiefs of Sanger," said Yan, "behold +I take three straws. That long one is for the Great +Woodpecker, the middle size is for Little Beaver, +and the short thick one with the bump on the end +and a crack on top is Sappy. Now I will stack +them up in a bunch and let them fall, then whichever +way they point we must go, for this is Big +Medicine."</p> +<p> +So the straws fell. Sam's straw pointed nearly +to the house, Yan's a little to the south of the +house, and Guy's right back home.</p> +<p> +"Aha, Sappy, you got to go home; the straw says +so."</p> +<p> +"I ain't goin' to believe no such foolishness."</p> +<p> +"It's awful unlucky to go against it."</p> +<p> +"I don't care, I ain't goin' back," said Guy doggedly.</p> +<p> +"Well, my straw says go to the house; that means +go scouting for milk, I reckon."</p> +<p> +Yan's straw pointed toward the garden, and +Guy's to the residence and grounds of "J.G. +Burns, Esq."</p> +<p> +"I don't care," said Sappy, "I ain't goin'. I am +goin' after some of them cherries in your orchard, +an' 'twon't be the first time, neither."</p> +<p> +"We kin meet by the Basswood at the foot of the +lane with whatever we get," said the First War Chief, +as he sneaked into the bushes and crawled through +the snake fence and among the nettles and manure +<span class="left"><a name="284">284</a></span> +heaps on the north side of the barnyard till he reached +the woodshed adjoining the house. He knew where +the men were, and he could guess where his mother +was, but he was worried about the Dog. Old Cap +might be on the front doorstep, or he might be +prowling at just the wrong place for the Injun plan. +The woodshed butted on the end of the kitchen. +The milk was kept in the cellar, and one window of +the cellar opened into a dark corner of the woodshed. +This was easily raised, and Sam scrambled down +into the cool damp cellar. Long rows of milk pans +were in sight on the shelves. He lifted the cover of +the one he knew to be the last put there and drank +a deep, long draught with his mouth down to it, then +licked the cream from his lips and remembered +that he had come without a pail. But he knew +where to get one. He went gently up the stairs, +avoiding steps Nos. 1 and 7 because they were +"creakers," as he found out long ago, when he used +to 'hook' maple sugar from the other side of the +house. The door at the top was closed and buttoned, +but he put his jack-knife blade through the crack +and turned the button. After listening awhile and +hearing no sound in the kitchen, he gently opened +the squeaky old door. There was no one to be seen +but the baby, sound asleep in her cradle. The outer +door was open, but no Dog lying on the step as +usual. Over the kitchen was a garret entered by a +trap-door and a ladder. The ladder was up and the +trap-door open, but all was still. Sam stood over +<span class="left"><a name="285">285</a></span> +the baby, grunted, "Ugh, Paleface papoose," raised +his hand as if wielding a war club, aimed a deadly +blow at the sleeping cherub, then stooped and +kissed her rosy mouth so lightly that her pink fists +went up to rub it at once. He now went to the pantry, +took a large pie and a tin pail, then down into +the cellar again. He, at first, merely closed the door +behind him and was leaving it so, but remembered +that Minnie might awaken and toddle around till +she might toddle into the cellar, therefore he turned +the button so that just a corner showed over the +crack, closed the door and worked with his knife blade +on that corner till the cellar was made as safe as +before. He now escaped with his pie and pail.</p> +<p> +Meanwhile his mother's smiling face beamed out of +the dark loft. Then she came down the ladder. +She had seen him come and enter the cellar, by +chance she was in the loft when he reached the +kitchen, but she had kept quiet to enjoy the joke.</p> +<p> +Next time the Woodpecker went to the cellar he +found a paper with this on it: "<i>Notice</i> to hostile +Injuns—Next time you massacree this settlement, +bring back the pail, and don't leave the covers off +the milk pans."</p> +<p> +Yan had followed the fence that ran south of the +house. There was plenty of cover, but he crawled +on hands and knees, going right down on his breast +when he came to places more open than the rest. +In this way he had nearly reached the garden when +he heard a noise behind and, turning, he saw +<span class="left"><a name="286">286</a></span> +Sappy.</p> +<p> +"Here, what are you following me for? Your +straw pointed the other way. You ain't playing +fair."</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't care, I ain't going home. <i>You</i> +fixed it up so my straw would point that way. It +ain't fair, an' I won't do it."</p> +<p> +"You got no right following me."</p> +<p> +"I ain't following you, but you keep going just +the place I want to go. It's you following me, on'y +keepin' ahead. I told you I was after cherries."</p> +<p> +"Well, the cherries are that way and I'm going +this way, and I don't want you along."</p> +<p> +"You couldn't get me if you wanted me."</p> +<p> +"Erh——"</p> +<p> +"Erh——"</p> +<p> +So Sappy went cherryward and Yan waited +awhile, then crawled toward the fruit garden. After +twenty or thirty yards more, he saw a gleam of red, +then under it a bright yellow eye glaring at him. He +had chanced on a hen sitting on her nest. He came +nearer, she took alarm and ran away, not clucking, +but cackling loudly. There were a dozen eggs of +two different styles, all bright and clean, and the +hen's comb was bright red. Yan knew hens. This +was easy to read: Two stray hens laying in one nest, +and neither of them sitting yet.</p> +<p> +"So ho! Straws show which way the hens go."</p> +<p> +He gathered up the eggs into his hat and +crawled back toward the tree where all had to meet.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="287">287</a></span> +But before he had gone far he heard a loud barking, +then yells for help, and turned in time to see Guy +scramble up a tree while Cap, the old Collie, barked +savagely at him from below. Now that he was in +no danger Sappy had the sense to keep quiet. Yan +came back as quickly as possible. The Dog at once +recognized and obeyed <i>him</i>, but doubtless was much +puzzled to make out why he should be pelted back +to the house when he had so nobly done his duty +by the orchard.</p> +<p> +"Now, you see, maybe next time you'll do what +the medicine straw tells you. Only for me you'd +been caught and fed to the pigs, sure."</p> +<p> +"Only for you I wouldn't have come. I wasn't +scared of your old Dog, anyway. Just in about +two minutes more I was comin' down to kick the +stuffin' out o' him myself."</p> +<p> +"Perhaps you'd like to go back and do it now. +I'll soon call him."</p> +<p> +"Oh, I hain't got time now, but some other +time— Let's find Sam."</p> +<p> +So they foregathered at the tree, and laden with +their spoils, they returned gloriously to camp.</p><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch144.gif" width="144" height="265" alt="Sappy 'treed' by Cap" border="0" align="right" hspace="15" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="288">288</a></span> +<h3><a name="3V">V</a></h3> +<h3>The Deer Hunt</h3> + +<p> +That evening they had a feast and turned in +to sleep at the usual hour. The night passed +without special alarm. Once about daylight +Sappy called them, saying he believed there was a +Bear outside, but he had a trick of grinding his teeth +in his sleep, and the other boys told him that was +the Bear he heard.</p> +<p> +Yan went around to the mud albums and got +some things he could not make out and a new mark +that gave him a sensation. He drew it carefully. +It was evidently the print of a small sharp hoof. +This was what he had hungered for so long. He +shouted, "Sam—Sam—Sapwood, come here; here's +a <i>Deer track</i>."</p> +<p> +The boys shouted back, "Ah, what you givin' us +now!" "Call off your Dog!" and so forth.</p> +<p> +But Yan persisted. The boys were so sure it was +a trick that they would not go for some time, then +the sun had risen high, shining straight down on +the track instead of across, so it became very dim. +Soon the winds, the birds and the boys themselves +helped to wipe it out. But Yan had his drawing, +and persisted in spite of the teasing that it was true.</p> +<img src="images/sketch145a.gif" width="60" height="100" alt="Deer tracks" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="289">289</a></span> +At length Guy said aside to Sam: "Seems to me a +feller that hunts tracks so terrible serious ought +to see the critter <i>some time</i>. 'Tain't right to let him +go on sufferin'. <i>I</i> think he ought to see that Deer. +We ought to help him." Here he winked a volley +or two and made signs for Sam to take Yan away.</p> +<p> +This was easily done.</p> +<p> +"Let's see if your Deer went out by the lower mud +album." So they walked down that way, while +Guy got an old piece of sacking, stuffed it with grass, +and, hastily tying it in the form of a Deer's head, stuck +it on a stick. He put in two flat pieces of wood for +ears, took charcoal and made two black spots for +eyes and one for a nose, then around each he drew a +<img src="images/sketch146.gif" width="139" height="193" alt="Guy's stuffed deer" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +ring of blue clay from the bed of the brook. This +soon dried and became white. Guy now set up this +head in the bushes, and when all was ready he ran +swiftly and silently through the wood to find Sam +and Yan. He beckoned vigorously and called +under his voice: "Sam—Yan—a Deer! Here's that +there Deer that made them tracks, I believe."</p> +<p> +Guy would have failed to convince Yan if Sam +had not looked so much interested. They ran back +to the teepee, got their bows and arrows, then, guided +by Guy, who, however, kept back, they crawled +to where he had seen the Deer.</p> +<p> +"There—there, now, ain't he a Deer? There—see +him move!"</p> +<p> +Yan's first feeling was a most exquisite thrill of +pleasure. It was like the uplift of joy he had had +the time he got his book, but was stronger. The +<span class="left"><a name="290">290</a></span> +savage impulse to kill came quickly, and his bow +was in his hand, but he hesitated.</p> +<p> +"Shoot! Shoot!" said Sam and Guy.</p> +<p> +Yan wondered why <i>they</i> did not shoot. He turned, +and in spite of his agitation he saw that they were +making fun of him. He glanced at the Deer again, +moved up a little closer and saw the trick.</p> +<p> +Then they hooted aloud. Yan was a little crestfallen. +Oh, it had been such an exquisite feeling! +The drop was long and hard, but he rallied quickly.</p> +<p> +"I'll shoot your Deer for you," he said, and sent +an arrow close under it.</p> +<p> +"Well, I kin beat that," and Sam and Guy both +fired. Sam's arrow stuck in the Deer's nose. At +that he gave a yell; then all shot till the head +was stuck full of arrows, and they returned to the +teepee to get dinner. They were still chaffing Yan +about the Deer when he said slowly to Guy:</p> +<p> +"Generally you are not so smart as you think you +are, but this time you're smarter. You've given +me a notion."</p> +<p> +So after dinner he got a sack about three feet long +and stuffed it full of dry grass; then he made a small +sack about two and a half feet long and six inches +thick, but with an elbow in it and pointed at one +end. This he also stuffed with hay and sewed with +a bone needle to the big sack. Next he cut four +sticks of soft pine for legs and put them into the +four corners of the big sack, wrapping them with +<span class="left"><a name="291">291</a></span> +bits of sacking to be like the rest. Then he cut +two ears out of flat sticks; painted black eyes and +nose with a ring of white around each, just as Sappy +had done, but finally added a black spot on each +side of the body, and around that a broad gray +hand. Now he had completed what every one could +see was meant for a Deer.</p> +<p> +The other boys helped a little, but not did cease +to chaff him.</p> +<p> +"Who's to be fooled this time?" asked Guy.</p> +<p> +"You," was the answer.</p> +<p> +"I'll bet you'll get buck fever the first time you +come across it," chuckled the Head Chief.</p> +<p> +"Maybe I will, but you'll all have a chance. +Now you fellers stay here and I'll hide the Deer. +Wait till I come back."</p> +<p> +So Yan ran off northward with the dummy, then +swung around to the east and hid it at a place +quite out of the line that he first took. He returned +nearly to where he came out, shouting +"Ready!"</p> +<p> +Then the hunters sallied forth fully armed, and +Yan explained: "First to find it counts ten and has +first shot. If he misses, next one can walk up five +steps and shoot; if he misses, next walks five steps +more, and so on until the Deer is hit. Then all the +shooting must be done from the place where that +arrow was fired. A shot in the heart counts ten; in +the gray counts five; that's a body wound—and a hit +outside of that counts one—that's a scratch. If the +<span class="left"><a name="292">292</a></span> +Deer gets away without a shot in the heart, then +I count twenty-five, and the first one to find it is +Deer for next hunt—twelve shots each is the limit."</p> +<img src="images/sketch147.gif" alt="The Deer" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="146" height="134" border="0" /> + +<p> +The two hunters searched about for a long time. +Sam made disparaging remarks about the trail this +Deer <i>did not</i> leave, and Guy sneaked and peaked in +every thicket.</p> +<p> +Sappy was not an athlete nor an intellectual giant, +but his little piggy eyes were wonderfully sharp +and clear.</p> +<p> +"I see him," he yelled presently, and pointed out +the place seventy-five yards away where he saw one +ear and part of the head.</p> +<p> +"Tally ten for Sappy," and Yan marked it down.</p> +<p> +Guy was filled with pride at his success. He +made elaborate preparation to shoot, remarking, "I +could 'a' seen it twicet as far—if—if—if—it was—if +I had a fair chance."</p> +<p> +He drew his bow and left fly. The arrow went +little more than half way. So Sam remarked, "Five +steps up I kin go. It don't say nothing about how +long the steps?"</p> +<p> +"No."</p> +<p> +"Well, here goes," and he began the most wonderful +Kangaroo hops that he could do. He covered about +thirty feet in those five steps, and by swerving a +little aside he got a good view of the Deer. He was +now less than sixty-five yards away. He fired and +missed. Now Guy had the right to walk up five steps. +He also missed. Finally at thirty yards Sam sent +an arrow close past a tree, deep in the Deer's gray +<span class="left"><a name="293">293</a></span> +flank.</p> +<p> +"Bully shot! Body wound! Count five for the +Great War Chief. All shooting from this spot +now," said Yan, "and I don't know why I shouldn't +shoot as well as the others."</p> +<p> +"Coz you're the Deer and that'd be suicide," was +Sam's objection. "But it's all right. You won't +hit."</p> +<p> +The objection was not sustained, and Yan tried +his luck also. Two or three shots in the brown of the +Deer's haunch, three or four into the tree that stood +half way between, but nearly in line, a shot or two +into the nose, then "Hooray!" a shot from Guy right +into the Deer's heart put an end to the chase. Now +they went up to draw and count the arrows.</p> +<p> +Guy was ahead with a heart shot, ten, a body +wound, five, and a scratch, one, that's sixteen, with +ten more for finding it—twenty-six points. Sam +followed with two body wounds and two scratches—twelve +points, and Yan one body wound and five +scratches—ten points. The Deer looked like an +old Porcupine when they came up to it, and Guy, +bursting with triumph, looked like a young Emperor.</p> +<p> +"I tell you it takes me to larn you fellers to Deer +hunt. I'll bet I'll hit him in the heart first thing +next time."</p> +<p> +"I'll bet you won't, coz you'll be Deer and can't +shoot till we both have." +<img src="images/sketch148.gif" alt="stuffed 'deer' target" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="146" height="107" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Guy thought this the finest game he had ever +<span class="left"><a name="294">294</a></span> +played. He pranced away with the dummy on his +back, scheming as he went to make a puzzle for the +others. He hid the Deer in a dense thicket east of +the camp, then sneaked around to the west of the +camp and yelled "Ready!" They had a long, tedious +search and had to give it up.</p> +<p> +"Now what to do? Who counts?" asked the Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +"When Deer escapes it counts twenty-five," replied +the inventer of the game; and again Guy was ahead.</p> +<p> +"This is the bulliest game I ever seen" was his +ecstatic remark.</p> +<p> +"Seems to me there's something wrong; that Deer +ought to have a trail."</p> +<p> +"That's so," assented Yan. "Wonder if he couldn't +drag an old root!"</p> +<p> +"If there was snow it'd be easy."</p> +<p> +"I'll tell you, Sam; we'll tear up paper and leave a +paper trail."</p> +<p> +"Now you're talking." So all ran to camp. +Every available scrap of wrapping paper was torn +up small and put in a "scent bag."</p> +<p> +Since no one found the Deer last time, Guy had +the right to hide it again.</p> +<p> +He made a very crooked trail and a very careful +hide, so that the boys nearly walked onto the Deer +before they saw it about fifteen yards away. Sam +scored ten for the find. He fired and missed. Yan +now stepped up his five paces and fired so hastily +<img src="images/sketch149.gif" width="164" height="152" alt="triumphant Guy" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +that he also missed. Guy now had a shot at it at +<span class="left"><a name="295">295</a></span> +five yards, and, of course, hit the Deer in the heart.</p> +<p> +This succession of triumphs swelled his head nearly +to the bursting point, and his boasting passed +all bounds. But it now became clear that there +must be a limit to the stepping up. So the new +rule was made, "No stepping up nearer than +fifteen paces."</p> + +<p> +The game grew as they followed it. Its resemblance +to real hunting was very marked. The boys found +that they could follow the trail, or sweep the woods +<img src="images/sketch150b.gif" width="138" height="350" alt="the deer in full view across the pond" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +with their eyes as they pleased, and find the game, but +the wisest way was a combination. Yan was too +much for the trail, Sam too much for the general +lookout, but Guy seemed always in luck. His +little piglike eyes took in everything, and here at +length he found a department in which he could +lead. It looked as though little pig-eyed Guy was +really cut out for a hunter. He made a number +of very clever hidings of the Deer. Once he led the +trail to the pond, then, across, and right opposite he +put the Deer in full view, so that they saw it at once +in the open; they were obliged either to shoot across +the pond, or step farther away round the edge, or step +into the deep water, and again Guy scored. It was +found necessary to bar hiding the Deer on a ridge +and among stones, because in one case arrows which +missed were lost in the bushes and in the other they +were broken.</p> +<p> +They played this game so much that they soon +found a new difficulty. The woods were full of paper +trails, and there was no means of deciding which was +<span class="left"><a name="296">296</a></span> +the old and which the new. This threatened to +end the fun altogether. But Yan hit on the device +of a different colour of paper. This gave them a +fresh start, but their supply was limited. There +was paper everywhere in the woods now, and it +looked as though the game was going to kill itself, +when old Caleb came to pay them a visit. He +always happened round as though it was an accident, +but the boys were glad to see him, as he usually gave +some help.</p> +<p> +"Ye got some game, I see," and the old man's +eye twinkled as he noted the dummy, now doing +target duty on the forty-yard range. "Looks like +the real thing. Purty good—purty good." He +chuckled as he learned about the Deer hunt, and a +sharp observer might have discerned a slight increase +of interest when he found that it was not Sam Raften +that was the "crack" hunter.</p> +<p> +"Good fur you, Guy Burns. Me an' your Paw +hev hunted Deer together on this very crik many +a time."</p> +<p> +When he learned the difficulty about the scent, +he said "Hm," and puffed at his pipe for awhile +in silence. Then at length:</p> +<p> +"Say, Yan, why don't you and Guy get a bag o' +wheat or Injun corn for scent: that's better than +paper, an' what ye lay to-day is all clared up by +the birds and Squirrels by to-morrow."</p> +<p> +"Bully!" shouted Sam. (He had not been addressed +at all, but he was not thin-skinned.) Within ten +<span class="left"><a name="297">297</a></span> +minutes he had organized another "White massacree"—that +is, a raid on the home barn, and in half an +hour he returned with a peck of corn.</p> +<p> +"Now, lemme be Deer," said Caleb. "Give me +five minutes' start, then follow as fast as ye like. +I'll show ye what a real Deer does."</p> +<p> +He strode away bearing the dummy, and in five +minutes as they set out on the trail he came striding +back again. Oh, but that seemed a long run. The +boys followed the golden corn trail—a grain every +ten feet was about all they needed now, they were +so expert. It was a straight run for a time, then it +circled back till it nearly cut itself again (at X, page +298). The boys thought it did so, and claimed the +right to know, as on a real Deer trail you could tell. +So Caleb said, "No, it don't cut the old trail." Where, +then, did it go? After beating about, Sam said that +the trail looked powerful heavy, like it might be +double.</p> +<p> +"Bet I know," said Guy. "He's doubled back," +which was exactly what he did do, though Caleb +gave no sign. Yan looked back on the trail and +found where the new one had forked. Guy gave +no heed to the ground once he knew the general +directions. He ran ahead (toward Y), so did Sam, +but Guy glanced back to Yan on the trail to make +sure of the line.</p> +<p> +They had not gone far beyond the nearest bushes +before Yan found another quirk in the trail. It +doubled back at Z. He unravelled the double, +<span class="left"><a name="298">298</a></span> +glanced around, and at O he plainly saw the Deer +lying on its side in the grass. He let off a triumphant +yell, "Yi, yi, yi, <i>Deer</i>!" and the others came +running back just in time to see Yan send an arrow +straight into its heart.</p> +<p class="center"> + +<img src="images/sketch152a.gif" alt="Caleb's 'deer trail'" width="132" height="372" border="0" /></p> + +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="299">299</a></span> +<h3><a name="3VI">VI</a></h3> +<h3>War Bonnet, Teepee and Coups</h3> + +<p> +Forty yards and first shot. Well, that's what +the Injuns would call a '<i>grand coup</i>,' and +Caleb's face wore the same pleasant look as +when he made the fire with rubbing-sticks.</p> +<p> +"What's a <i>grand coup?</i>" asked Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"Oh, I suppose it's a big deed. The Injuns call +a great feat a '<i>coup</i>,' an' an extra big one a '<i>grand +coup</i>.' Sounds like French, an' maybe 'tis, but the +Injuns says it. They had a regular way of counting +their <i>coup</i>, and for each they had the right to an +Eagle feather in their bonnet, with a red tuft of +hair on the end for the extra good ones. At least, +they used to. I reckon now they're forgetting it +all, and any buck Injun wears just any feather +he can steal and stick in his head."</p> +<p> +"What do you think of our head-dresses?" Yan +ventured.</p> +<p> +'Hm! You ain't never seen a real one or you +wouldn't go at them that way at all. First place, +the feathers should all be white with black tips, +<img src="images/sketch153a.gif" width="140" height="205" alt="Indian War Bonnet" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +an' fastened not solid like that, but loose on a cap +of soft leather. Each feather, you see, has a leather +loop lashed on the quill end for a lace to run through +and hold it to the cap, an' then a string running +<span class="left"><a name="300">300</a></span> +through the middle of each feather to hold it—just +so. Then there are ways of marking each feather +to show how it was got. I mind once I was out +on a war party with a lot of Santees—that's a brand +of Sioux—an' we done a lot o' sneaking an' stealing +an' scalped some of the enemy. Then we set out +for home, and when we was still about thirty miles +away we sent on an Injun telegram of good luck. +The leader of our crowd set fire to the grass after +he had sent two men half a mile away on each +side to do the same thing, an' up went three big +smokes. There is always some one watching round +an Injun village, an' you bet when they seen them +three smokes they knowed that we wuz a-coming +back with scalps.</p> +<p> +"The hull Council come out to meet us, but not +too reckless, coz this might have been the trick of +enemies to surprise them.</p> +<p> +"Well, when we got there, maybe there wasn't a +racket. You see, we didn't lose a man, and we +brung in a hundred horses and seven scalps. Our +leader never said a word to the crowd, but went +right up to the Council teepee. He walked in—we +followed. There was the Head Chief an' all the +Council settin' smoking. Our leader give the '<i>How</i>, +an' then we all '<i>Howed</i>.' Then we sat an' smoked, +an' the Chief called on our leader for an account +of the little trip. He stood up an' made a speech.</p> + +<p> +"'Great Chief and Council of my Tribe,' says he.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="301">301</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch154a.jpg" width="377" height="603" alt="The War Bonnet" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="302">302</a></span> + +<h5>THE INDIAN WAR BONNET—HOW TO MAKE IT</h5> +<span class="note"> +1. The plain white Goose or Turkey feather.<br /><br /> + +2. The same, with tip dyed black or painted with indelible ink.<br /><br /> + +3. The same, showing ruff of white down lashed on with wax end.<br /><br /> + +4. The same, showing leather loop lashed on for the holding lace.<br /><br /> + +5. The same, viewed edge on.<br /><br /> + +6. The same, with a red flannel cover sewn and lashed on the quill. This is a '<i>coup</i> feather.'<br /><br /> + +7. The same, with a tuft of red horsehair lashed on the top to mark a '<i>grand coup</i>' and (<i>a</i>) a thread through the +middle of the rib to hold feather in proper place. This feather is marked with the symbol of a <i>grand coup</i> +in target shooting. This symbol may be drawn on an oval piece of paper gummed on the top of the feather.<br /><br /> + +8. The tip of a feather showing how the red horsehair tuft is lashed on with fine waxed thread.<br /><br /> + +9. The groundwork of the war bonnet made of any soft leather, (<i>a</i>) a broad band to go round the head, laced at +the joint or seam behind; (<i>b</i>) a broad tail behind as long as needed to hold all the wearer's feathers; (<i>c</i>) two +leather thongs or straps over the top; (<i>d</i>) leather string to tie under the chin; (<i>e</i>) the buttons, conchas or side +ornaments of shells, silver, horn or wooden discs, even small mirrors and circles of beadwork were used, and +sometimes the conchas were left out altogether; they may have the owner's totem on them, usually a bunch of +ermine tails hung from each side of the bonnet just below the concha. A bunch of horsehair will answer as +well; (<i>hh</i>) the holes in the leather for holding the lace of the feather; 24 feathers are needed for the full bonnet, +without the tail, so they are put less than an inch apart; (<i>iii</i>) the lacing holes on the tail: this is as long as the +wearer's feathers call for; some never have any tail.<br /><br /> + +10. Side view of the leather framework, showing a pattern sometimes used to decorate the front.<br /><br /> + +11, 12 and 13. Beadwork designs for front band of bonnet; all have white grounds. No. 11 (Arapaho) has green +band at top and bottom with red zigzag. No. 12 (Ogallala) has blue band at top and bottom, red triangles; +the concha is blue with three white bars and is cut off from the band by a red bar. No. 13 (Sioux) has narrow +band above and broad band below blue, the triangle red, and the two little stars blue with yellow centre.<br /><br /> + +14. The bases of three feathers, showing how the lace comes out of the cap leather, through the eye or loop on the +bottom of the quill, and in again.<br /><br /> + +15. The completed bonnet, showing how the feathers of the crown should spread out, also showing the thread that +passes through the middle of each feather on inner side to hold it in place; another thread passes from the +point where the two straps (<i>c</i> in 9) join, then down through each feather in the tail.<br /><br /> + +The Indians now often use the crown of a soft felt hat for the basis of a war bonnet.<br /><br /> + +N.B. A much easier way to mark the feather is to stick on it near the top an oval of white paper and on this +draw the symbol with waterproof ink.<br /><br /> +</span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/sketch155.gif" width="384" height="95" alt="coup feather" border="0" /></p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="303">303</a></span> +'After we left the village and the men had purified +themselves, we travelled seven days and came to the +Little Muddy River. There we found the track of +a travelling band of Arapaho. In two days we +found their camp, but they were too strong for us, +so we hid till night; then I went alone into their +camp and found that some of them were going off +on a hunt next day. As I left I met a lone warrior +coming in. I killed him with my knife. For that + <img src="images/sketch156.gif" width="140" height="232" alt="Grand Coup for taking Scalp in Enemy's Camp; G.C. for slapping his face; Coup for stealing his Horse" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +I claim a <i>coup</i>; and I scalped him—for that I +claim another <i>coup</i>; an' before I killed him I slapped +his face with my hand—for this I claim a <i>grand coup</i>; +and I brought his horse away with me—for +that I claim another <i>coup</i>. Is it not so,' sez he, +turning to us, and we all yelled '<i>How! How! How!</i>' +For this fellow, 'Whooping Crane,' was awful good +stuff. Then the Council agreed that he should +wear three Eagle feathers, the first for killing and +scalping the enemy in his own camp—that was a +<i>grand coup</i>, and the feather had a tuft of red hair +on it an' a red spot on the web. The next feather +was for slapping the feller's face first, which, of +course, made it more risky. This Eagle feather had a +red tuft on top an' a red hand on the web; the one +for stealing the horse had a horseshoe, but no tuft, +coz it wasn't counted A1.</p> +<p> +"Then the other Injuns made their claims, an' +we all got some kind of honours. I mind one feller +was allowed to drag a Fox tail at each heel when he +danced, an' another had ten horseshoe marks on +<span class="left"><a name="304">304</a></span> +an Eagle feather for stealing ten horses, an' I tell +you them Injuns were prouder of them feathers +than a general would be of his medals."</p> +<p> +"My, I wish I could go out there and be with +those fellows," and Yan sighed as he compared his +commonplace lot with all this romantic splendour.</p> +<p> +"Guess you'd soon get sick of it. I know <i>I</i> did," +was the answer; "forever shooting and killing, +never at peace, never more than three meals ahead +of starvation and just as often three meals behind. +No, siree, no more for me."</p> +<p> +"I'd just like to see you start in horse-stealing for +honours round here," observed Sam, "though I +know who'd get the feathers if it was chicken stealing."</p> +<p> +"Say, Caleb," said Guy, who, being friendly and +of the country, never thought of calling the old man +"Mr. Clark," "didn't they give feathers for good +Deer-hunting? I'll bet I could lick any of them at +it if I had a gun."</p> +<p> +"Didn't you hear me say first thing that that +there shot o' Yan's should score a '<i>grand coup</i>'?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, shucks! I kin lick Yan any time; that was +just a chance shot. I'll bet if you give feathers for +Deer-hunting I'll get them all."</p> +<p> +"We'll take you up on that," said the oldest +Chief, but the next interrupted:</p> +<p> +"Say, boys, we want to play Injun properly. +Let's get Mr. Clark to show us how to make a real +war bonnet. Then we'll wear only what feathers +we win."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="305">305</a></span>"Ye mean by scalping the Whites an' horse-stealing?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, no; there's lots of things we can do—best +runner, best Deer hunter, best swimmer, best shot +with bow and arrows."</p> +<p> +"All right." So they set about questioning +Caleb. He soon showed them how to put a war +bonnet together, using, in spite of Yan's misgivings, +the crown of an old felt hat for the ground work and +white goose quills trimmed and dyed black at the +tips for Eagle feathers. But when it came to the +deeds that were to be rewarded, each one had his +own ideas.</p> +<p> +"If Sappy will go to the orchard and pick a peck +of cherries without old Cap gettin' <i>him</i>, I'll give him +a feather with all sorts of fixin's on it," suggested +Sam.</p> +<p> +"Well, I'll bet you can't get a chicken out of our +barn 'thout our Dog gettin' <i>you</i>, Mr. Smarty."</p> +<p> +"Pooh! I ain't stealing chickens. Do you take +me for a nigger? I'm a noble Red-man and Head +Chief at that, I want you to know, an' I've a notion +to collect that scalp you're wearin' now. You +know it belongs to me and Yan," and he sidled +over, rolling his eye and working his fingers in a +way that upset Guy's composure. "And I tell you +a feller with one foot in the grave should have his +thoughts on seriouser things than chicken-stealing. +This yere morbid cravin' for excitement is rooinin' +all the young fellers nowadays."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="306">306</a></span> +Yan happened to glance at Caleb. He was gazing +off at nothing, but there was a twinkle in his eye +that Yan never before saw there.</p> +<p> +"Let's go to the teepee. It's too hot out here. +Come in, won't you, Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"Hm. 'Tain't much cooler in here, even if it is +shady," remarked the old Trapper. "Ye ought to +lift one side of the canvas and get some air."</p> +<p> +"Why, did the real Injuns do that?"</p> +<p> +"I should say they did. There ain't any way they +didn't turn and twist the teepee for comfort. That's +what makes it so good. Ye kin live in it forty below +zero an' fifty 'bove suffocation an' still be happy. +It's the changeablest kind of a layout for livin' in. +Real hot weather the thing looks like a spider with +skirts on and held high, an' I tell you ye got to know +the weather for a teepee. Many a hot night on the +plains I've been woke up by hearing 'Tap-tap-tap' +all around me in the still black night and wondered +why all the squaws was working, but they was up +to drop the cover and drive all the pegs deeper, an' +within a half hour there never failed to come up a +big storm. How they knew it was a-comin' I never +could tell. One old woman said a Coyote told her, +an' maybe that's true, for they do change their +<img src="images/sketch157.gif" width="150" height="118" alt="ventilated teepee" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +song for trouble ahead; another said it was the flowers +lookin' queer at sundown, an' another had a bad +dream. Maybe they're all true; it comes o' watchin' +little things."</p> +<p> +"Do they never get fooled?" asked Little Beaver</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="307">307</a></span> +"Oncet in awhile, but not near as often as a +White-man would.</p> +<p> +"I mind once seeing an artist chap, one of them +there portygraf takers. He come out to the village +with a machine an' took some of the little teepees. +Then I said, 'Why don't you get Bull-calf's squaw +to put up their big teepee? I tell you that's a +howler.' So off he goes, and after dickering awhile +he got the squaw to put it up for three dollars. +You bet it was a stunner, sure—all painted red, with +green an' yaller--animals an' birds an' scalps galore. +It made that feller's eyes bug out to see it. He +started in to make some portygrafs, then was taking +another by hand, so as to get the colours, an' I bet +it would have crowded him to do it, but jest when he +got a-going the old squaw yelled to the other—the +Chief hed two of them—an' lighted out to take +down that there teepee. That artist he hollered to +stop, said he had hired it to stay up an' a bargain +was a bargain. But the old squaw she jest kept on +a-jabberin' an' pintin' at the west. Pretty soon they +had the hull thing down and rolled up an' that +artist a-cussin' like a cow-puncher. Well, I mind it +was a fine day, but awful hot, an' before five minutes +there come a little dark cloud in the west, then in +ten minutes come a-whoopin' a regular small cyclone, +<img src="images/sketch158.gif" alt="Bull-Calf's Teepee" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="151" height="180" border="0" /> +an' it went through that village and wrecked all the +teepees of any size. That red one would surely +have gone only for that smart old squaw."</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch159.gif" width="130" height="196" alt="Guy" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +Under Caleb's directions the breezy side of the +cover was now raised a little, and the shady side +<span class="left"><a name="308">308</a></span> +much more. This changed the teepee from a stifling +hothouse into a cool, breezy shade.</p> +<p> +"An' when ye want to know which way is the +wind, if it's light, ye wet your finger so, an' hold it +up. The windy side feels cool at once, and by that +ye can set your smoke-flaps."</p> +<p> +"I want to know about war bonnets," Yan now +put in. "I mean about things to do to wear feathers—that +is, things <i>we</i> can do."</p> +<p> +"Ye kin have races, an' swimmin' an bownarrer +shootin'. I should say if you kin send one o' them +arrers two hundred yards that would kill a Buffalo +at twenty feet. I'd think that was pretty good. +Yes, I'd call that way up."</p> +<p> +"What—a <i>grand coup?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I reckon; an' if you fell short on'y fifty +yards that'd still kill a Deer, an' we could call that a +<i>coup</i>. If," continued Caleb, "you kin hit that old +gunny-sack buck plunk in the heart at fifty yards +first shot I'd call that away up; an' if you hit it at +seventy-five yards in the heart no matter how many +tries, I'd call you a shot. If you kin hit a nine-inch +bull's-eye two out of three at forty yards every +time an' no fluke, you'd hold your own among Injuns +though I must say they don't go in much for shooting +at a target. They shoot at 'most anything they +see in the woods. I've seen the little copper-coloured +kids shooting away at butterflies. Then they have +matches—they try who can have most arrers in the +air at one time. To have five in the air at once is +considered good. It means powerful fast work and +<span class="left"><a name="309">309</a></span> +far shooting. You got to hold a bunch handy in +the left hand fur that. The most I ever seen one +man have up at once was eight. That was reckoned +'big medicine,' an' any one that can keep up seven +is considered swell."</p> +<p> +"Do you know any other things besides bows and +arrows that would do?"</p> +<p> +"I think that a rubbing-stick fire ought to count," +interrupted Sam. "I want that in coz Guy can't +do it. Any one who kin do it at all gets a feather, +an' any one who kin do it in one minute gets a +swagger feather, or whatever you call it; that takes +care of Yan and me an' leaves Guy out in the cold."</p> +<p> +"I'll bet I kin hunt Deer all round you both, I kin."</p> +<p> +"Oh, shut up, Sappy; we're tired a-hearing about +your Deer hunting. We're going to abolish that +game." Then Sam continued, apparently addressing +Caleb, "Do you know any Injun games?" +<img src="images/sketch160.gif" alt=" Target Coup Feather; Long-distance; Five-in-air-at once" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="153" height="134" border="0" /> + +</p> +<p> +But Caleb took no notice.</p> +<p> +Presently Yan said, "Don't the Injuns play +games, Mr. Clark?</p> +<p> +"Well, yes, I kin show you two Injun games that +will test your eyesight."</p> +<p> +"I bet I kin beat any one at it," Guy made haste to +tell. "Why, I seen that Deer before Yan could—"</p> +<img src="images/sketch161.gif" width="128" height="81" alt="Archery coup feathers - their special marks" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"Oh, shut up, Guy," Yan now exclaimed. A +peculiar sound—"<i>Wheet—wheet—wheet</i>"—made Sappy +turn. He saw Sam with an immense knife, whetting +it most vigorously and casting a hungry, fishy +glance from time to time to the "yaller moss-tuft" +<span class="left"><a name="310">310</a></span> +on Guy's neck.</p> +<p> +"Time has came," he said to nobody in particular.</p> +<p> +"You better let me alone," whined Guy, for that +horrible "<i>wheet—wheet</i>" jarred his nerves somehow. +He looked toward Yan, and seeing, as he thought, +the suggestion of a smile, he felt more comfortable, +but a glance at Sam dispelled his comfort; the Woodpecker's +face was absolutely inscrutable and perfectly +demoniac with paint.</p> +<p> +"Why don't you whet up, Little Beaver? Don't +you want your share?" asked the Head Chief through +his teeth.</p> +<p> +"I vote we let him wear it till he brags again +about his Deer-hunting. Then off she comes to the +bone," was the reply. "Tell us about the Injun +game, Mr. Clark."</p> +<p> +"I pretty near forget it now, but le's see. They +make two squares on the ground or on two skins; +each one is cut up in twenty-five smaller squares +with lines like that. Then they have, say, ten rings +an' ten nuts or pebbles. One player takes five +rings an' five nuts an' sets them around on the +squares of one set, an' don't let the other see till all +is ready; then the other turns an' looks at it while +some one else sings a little song that one of the +boys turned into:</p> +<p class="indent"> +"'Ki yi ya—ki yi yee,<br /> +You think yer smart as ye kin be,<br /> +You think yer awful quick to see<br /> +But yer not too quick for me,<br /> +Ki yi ya—ki yi yee.'</p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch162.gif" width="151" height="195" alt="Illustration: Counters (5 nuts & 5 pebbles) & Cards for Game of Quicksight" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> + +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch163.gif" width="152" height="156" alt="the first square" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="311">311</a></span> +<br /><br /> +"Then the first square is covered with a basket +or anything and the second player must cover +the other skin with counters just the same from +memory. For every counter he gets on the right +square he counts one, and loses one for each on +the wrong square."</p> +<p> +"I'll bet I kin——" Guy began, but Sam's hand +gripped his moss-tuft.</p> +<p> +"Here, you let me alone. I ain't bragging. I'm +only telling the simple truth."</p> +<p> +"Ugh! Better tell some simple lies, then—much +safer," said the Great Woodpecker, with horrid calm +and meaning. "If ever I lift that scalp you'll catch +cold and die, do ye know it?"</p> +<p> +Again Yan could see that Caleb had to look far +away to avoid taking an apparent interest.</p> +<br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch164.gif" width="198" height="234" align="left" hspace="10" alt="Spot-the-Rabbit or Farsight Six inches" border="0" /> +<img src="images/sketch165.gif" width="203" height="229" align="right" hspace="10" alt="These identical squares may be used at the same distance given for the 6-inch ones" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p> +"There's another game. I don't know as it's +Injun, but it's the kind o' game where an Injun +<i>could</i> win. They first made two six-inch squares of +white wood or card, then on each they made rings like +a target or squares like the quicksight game, or else +two Rabbits the same on each. One feller takes six +spots of black, half an inch across, an' sticks them +on one, scattering anyhow, an' sets it up a hundred +yards off; another feller takes same number of +spots an' the other Rabbit an' walks up till he can +see to fix his Rabbit the same. If he kin do it at +seventy-five yards he's a swell; if he kin do it at +sixty yards he's away up, but less than fifty yards +<span class="left"><a name="312">312</a></span> +is no good. I seen the boys have lots o' fun out o' +<img src="images/sketch166a.gif" width="139" height="197" alt="The Pleiades as seen by Ordinary Eyes" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +it. They try to fool each other every way, putting +one spot right on another or leaving some off. It's +a sure 'nough test of good eyes."</p> +<p> +"I'll bet——" began Sappy again, but a loud +savage "Grrrr" from Sam, who knew perfectly +well what was coming, put a stop to the bet, whatever +it was.</p> +<p> +"There was two other Injun tests of eyes that I +mind now. Some old Buck would show the youngsters +the Pleiades—them's the little stars that the +Injuns call the Bunch—an' ask 'How many kin +you see?' Some could sho'ly see five or six an' +some could make out seven. Them as sees seven +is mighty well off for eyes. Ye can't see the Pleiades +now—they belong to the winter nights; but you kin +see the Dipper the hull year round, turning about +the North Star. The Injuns call this the 'Broken +Back,' an' I've heard the old fellers ask the boys: +<img src="images/sketch167.gif" width="135" height="185" alt="The Pleiades as seen by by Good Eyes" border="0" hspace="17" style="float: left" /> +'You see the Old Squaw—that's the star, second +from the end, the one at the bend of the handle—well, +she has a papoose on her back. Kin you see the +papoose?' an' sure enough, when my eyes was real +good I could see the little baby star tucked in by +the big un. It's a mighty good test of eyes if you +kin see that."</p> +<img src="images/sketch168.gif" width="138" height="186" alt="The Pleiades as seen by Extraordinary Eyes" hspace="50" border="0" /> +<img src="images/sketch169a.gif" alt="The Great Bear or Dipper pointing +nearly to Pole Star. The 2nd star from left in handle of Dipper is the +Squaw, & from it, the little papoose" width="130" height="167" +border="0" hspace="50" /> + +<p> +"Eh——" began Guy.</p> +<p> +But "Grrrrrrrrr" from Sam stopped him in time. +Again Caleb's eyes wandered afar. Then he +stepped out of the teepee and Yan heard him mutter, +<span class="left"><a name="313">313</a></span> +"Consarn that whelp, he makes me laugh spite o' +myself." He went off a little way into the woods +and presently called "Yan! Guy! Come here." +All three ran out. "Talking about eyes, what's +that?" An opening in the foliage gave a glimpse +of the distant Burns's clover field. "Looks like a +small Bear."</p> +<p> +"Woodchuck! That's our Woodchuck! That's +the ole sinner that throwed Paw off'n the mower. +Where's my bone-arrer?" and Guy went for his +weapons.</p> +<p> +The boys ran for the fence of the clover field, +going more cautiously as they came near. Still +the old Woodchuck heard something and sat up +erect on his haunches. He was a monster, and +out on the smooth clover field he did look like a +very small Bear. His chestnut breast was curiously +relieved by his unusually gray back and head.</p> +<p> +"Paw says it's his sins as turned his head gray. +He's a hoary headed sinner, an' he ain't repented +o' none o' them so far, but <i>I'm</i> after him now."</p> +<p> +"Hold on! Start even!" said Sam, seeing that +Guy was prepared to shoot.</p> +<p> +So all drew together, standing in a row like an old +picture of the battle of Crecy. The arrows scattered +about the Woodchuck. Most went much too far, +none went near because he was closer than they had +supposed, but he scuttled away into his hole, there, +no doubt, to plan a new trap for the man with the +mower.</p> +<img src="images/sketch170.gif" alt="all drew together, standing in a row like an old picture of the battle of Crecy" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="340" height="114" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="314">314</a></span> +<h3><a name="3VII">VII</a></h3> +<h3>Campercraft</h3> + +<p> +"How'd you sleep, Sam?"</p> +<p> +"Didn't sleep a durn bit."</p> +<p> +"Neither did I. I was shivering all night. +I got up an' put the spare blanket on, but it didn't +do any good."</p> +<p> +"Wonder if there was a chills-and-fever fog or +something?"</p> +<p> +"How'd you find it, Sappy?"</p> +<p> +"All right."</p> +<p> +"Didn't smell any fog?"</p> +<p> +"Nope."</p> +<p> +The next night it was even worse. Guy slept +placidly, if noisily, but Sam and Yan tumbled about +and shivered for hours. In the morning at dawn Sam +sat up.</p> +<p> +"Well, I tell you this is no joke. Fun's fun, but +if I am going to have the shivers every night I'm +going home while I'm able."</p> +<p> +Yan said nothing. He was very glum. He felt +much as Sam did, but was less ready to give up the +outing.</p> +<p> +Their blues were nearly dispelled when the warm +sun came up, but still they dreaded the coming +<span class="left"><a name="315">315</a></span> +night.</p> +<p> +"Wonder what it is," said Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"'Pears to me powerful like chills and fever and +then again it don't. Maybe we drink too much +swamp water. I believe we're p'isoned with Guy's +cooking."</p> +<p> +"More like getting scurvy from too much meat. +Let's ask Caleb."</p> +<p> +Caleb came around that afternoon or they would +have gone after him. He heard Yan's story in +silence, then, "Have ye sunned your blankets sense +ye came?"</p> +<p> +"No."</p> +<p> +Caleb went into the teepee, felt the blankets, then +grunted: "H-m! Jest so. They're nigh soppin'. +You turn in night after night an' sweat an' sweat +in them blankets an' wonder why they're damp. +Hain't you seen your ma air the blankets every +day at home? Every Injun squaw knows that +much, an' every other day at least she gives the +blankets a sun roast for three hours in the middle +of the day, or, failing that, dries them at the fire. +Dry out your blankets and you won't have no more +chills."</p> +<p> +The boys set about it at once, and that night they +experienced again the sweet, warm sleep of healthy +youth.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch171.gif" alt="airing the blankets" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="288" height="120" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +There was another lesson they had to learn in +campercraft. The Mosquitoes were always more +or less of a plague. At night they forced the boys +<span class="left"><a name="316">316</a></span> +into the teepee, but they soon learned to smudge +the insects with a wad of green grass on the hot fire. +This they would throw on at sundown, then go +outside, closing the teepee tight and eat supper +around the cooking fire. After that was over they +would cautiously open the teepee to find the grass +all gone and the fire low, a dense cloud of smoke +still in the upper part, but below it clear air. They +would then brush off the Mosquitoes that had alighted +on their clothes, crawl into the lodge and close the +door tight. Not a Mosquito was left alive in it, +and the smoke hanging about the smoke-vent +was enough to keep them from coming in, and +so they slept in peace. Thus they could baffle +the worst pest of the woods. But there was yet +another destroyer of comfort by day, and this +was the Blue-bottle flies. There seemed more of +them as time went on, and they laid masses of yellowish +eggs on anything that smelled like meat or +corruption. They buzzed about the table and got +into the dishes; their dead, drowned and mangled +bodies were polluting all the food, till Caleb remarked +during one of his ever-increasing visits: "It's your +own fault. Look at all the filth ye leave scattered +about."</p> +<p> +There was no blinking the fact; for fifty feet around +the teepee the ground was strewn with scraps of +paper, tins and food. To one side was a mass of +potato peelings, bones, fish-scales and filth, and +everywhere were the buzzing flies, to be plagues all +<span class="left"><a name="317">317</a></span> +day, till at sundown the Mosquitoes relieved them +and took the night shift of the office of torment.</p> +<p> +"I want to learn, especially if it's Injun," said +Little Beaver. "What had we best do?"</p> +<p> +"Wall, first ye could move camp; second, ye could +clean this."</p> +<p> +As there was no other available camp ground +they had no choice, and Yan said with energy: +"Boys, we got to clean this and keep it clean, too. +We'll dig a hole for everything that won't burn."</p> +<p> +So Yan seized the spade and began to dig in the +bushes not far from the teepee. Sam and Guy +were gradually drawn in. They began gathering +all the rubbish and threw it into the hole. As +they tumbled in bones, tins and scraps of bread Yan +said: "I just hate to see that bread go in. It +doesn't seem right when there's so many living +things would be glad to get it."</p> +<p> +At this, Caleb, who was sitting on a log placidly +smoking, said:</p> +<p> +"Now, if ye want to be real Injun, ye gather all the +eatables ye don't want—meat, bread and anything, +an' every day put it on some high place. Most +generally the Injuns has a rock—they call it <i>Wakan</i>; +that means sacred medicine—an' there they leave +scraps of food to please the good spirits. Av coorse +it's the birds and Squirrels gets it all; but the Injun +is content as long as it's gone, an' if ye argy with +them that 'tain't the spirits gets it, but the birds, +<img src="images/sketch172.gif" alt="Wakan" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="173" height="196" border="0" /> +they say: 'That doesn't matter. The birds couldn't +<span class="left"><a name="318">318</a></span> +get it if the spirits didn't want them to have it,' or +maybe the birds took it to carry to the spirits!"</p> +<p> +Then the Grand Council went out in a body to +seek the <i>Wakan Rock</i>. They found a good one in +the open part of the woods, and it became a daily +duty of one to carry the remnants of food to the +rock. They were probably less acceptable to the +wood creatures than they would have been half a +year later, but they soon found that there were +many birds glad to eat at the <i>Wakan</i>; and moreover, +that before long there was a trail from the brook, +only twenty-five yards away, that told of four-foots +also enjoying the bounty of the good spirits.</p> +<p> +Within three days of this the plague of Bluebottles +was over, and the boys realized that, judging +by its effects, the keeping of a dirty camp is a crime.</p> +<p> +One other thing old Caleb insisted on: "Yan," +said he, "you didn't ought to drink that creek water +now; it ain't hardly runnin'. The sun hez it het +up, an' it's gettin' too crawly to be healthy."</p> +<p> +"Well, what are we going to do?" said Sam, +though he might as well have addressed the brook +itself.</p> +<p> +"What can we do, Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"Dig a well!"</p> +<p> +"Phew! We're out here for fun!" was Sam's +reply.</p> +<p> +"Dig an Injun well," Caleb said. "Half an hour +will do it. Here, I'll show you."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="319">319</a></span> +He took the spade and, seeking a dry spot, +about twenty feet from the upper end of the +pond he dug a hole some two feet square. By +the time he was down three feet the water was +oozing in fast. He got it down about four feet +and then had to stop, on account of inflow. He +took a bucket and bailed the muddy stuff out +right to the bottom, and let it fill up to be again +bailed out. After three bailings the water came +in cold, sweet, and pure as crystal.</p> +<p> +"There," said he, "that water is from your pond, +but it is filtered through twenty feet of earth and +sand. That's the way to get cool, pure water out +of the dirtiest of swamps. That's an Injun well."</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<img src="images/sketch174.gif" width="140" height="354" alt="Basswood for drum" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<span class="left"><a name="320">320</a></span> +<h3><a name="3VIII">VIII</a></h3> +<h3>The Indian Drum</h3> + +<p> +"Oh, that hair of horse and skin of sheep should<br /> +Have such power to move the souls of men." +</p> +<p> +"If you were real Injun you'd make a drum of that," +said Caleb to Yan, as they came to a Basswood +blown over by a recent storm and now showing +its weakness, for it was quite hollow—a mere shell.</p> +<p> +"How do they do it? I want to know how."</p> +<p> +"Get me the axe."</p> +<p> +Yan ran for the axe. Caleb cut out a straight +unbroken section about two feet long. This they +carried to camp.</p> +<p> +"Coorse ye know," said Caleb, "ye can't have a +drum without skins for heads."</p> +<p> +"What kind of skins?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, Horse, Dog, Cow, Calf—'most any kind +that's strong enough."</p> +<p> +"I got a Calfskin in our barn, an' I know where +there's another in the shed, but it's all chawed up +with Rats. Them's mine. I killed them Calves. +Paw give me the skins for killin' an' skinnin' them. +Oh, you jest ought to see me kill a Calf—"</p> +<p> +Guy was going off into one of his autopanegyrics +when Sam who was now being rubbed on a sore +<span class="left"><a name="321">321</a></span> +place, gave a "Whoop!" and grabbed the tow-tuft +with a jerk that sent the Third War Chief sprawling +and ended the panegyric in the usual volley of +"you-let-me-'lones."</p> +<p> +"Oh, quit, Sam," objected Little Beaver. "You +can't stop a Dog barking. It's his nature." Then +to Guy: "Never mind, Guy; you are not hurt. I'll +bet you can beat him hunting Deer, and you can see +twice as far as he can."</p> +<p> +"Yes, I kin; that's what makes him so mad. I'll +bet I kin see three times as far—maybe five times," +was the answer in injured tones.</p> +<p> +"Go on now, Guy, and get the skins—that is, if +you want a drum for the war dance. You're the +only one in the crowd that's man enough to make +the raise of a hide," and fired by this flattery, Guy +sped away.</p> +<p> +Meanwhile Caleb worked on the hollow log. He +trimmed off the bark, then with the hatchet he +cleared out all the punk and splinters inside. He +made a fire on the ground in the middle of the drum-log +as it stood on end, and watching carefully, he +lifted it off from time to time and chopped away all +the charred parts, smoothing and trimming till he had +the log down thin and smooth within and without. +They heard Guy shouting soon after he left. They +thought him near at hand, but he did not come. +Trimming the drum-log took a couple of hours, and +still Guy did not return. The remark from Caleb, +"'Bout ready for the skins now!" called from Sam +<span class="left"><a name="322">322</a></span> +the explanation, "Guess Old Man Burns snapped +him up and put him to weeding the garden. Probably +that was him we heard gettin' licked."</p> +<p> +"Old Man Burns" was a poor and shiftless character, +a thin, stoop-shouldered man. He was only +thirty-five years of age, but, being married, that +was enough to secure for him the title "Old Man." +In Sanger, if Tom Nolan was a bachelor at eighty +years of age he would still be Tom Nolan, "wan +of the bhoys," but if he married at twenty he at +once became "Old Man Nolan."</p> +<p> +Mrs. Burns had produced the usual string of tow-tops, +but several had died, the charitable neighbours +said of starvation, leaving Guy, the eldest, his +mother's darling, then a gap and four little girls, +four, three, two and one years of age. She was a +fat, fair, easy-going person, with a general sense +of antagonism to her husband, who was, of course, +the natural enemy of the children. Jim Burns +cherished the ideal of bringing "that boy" up right—that +is, getting all the work he could out of him—and +Guy clung to his own ideal of doing as little +work as possible. In this clash of ideals Guy's +mother was his firm, though more or less secret, ally. +He was without fault in her eyes: all that he did was +right. His freckled visage and pudgy face were +types of noble beauty, standards of comeliness and +human excellence; his ways were ways of pleasantness +and all his paths were peace; Margat Burns +was sure of it.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch175.gif" width="393" height="104" alt="The Burns children" border="0" /></p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="323">323</a></span> +Burns had a good deal of natural affection, but +he was erratic; sometimes he would flog Guy mercilessly +for nothing, and again laugh at some serious +misdeed, so that the boy never knew just what to +expect, and kept on the safe side by avoiding his +"Paw" as much as possible. His visits to the +camp had been thoroughly disapproved, partly +because it was on Old Man Raften's land and partly +because it enabled Guy to dodge the chores. Burns +had been quite violent about it once or twice, but +Mrs. Burns had the great advantage of persistence, +and like the steady strain of the skilful angler on +the slender line, it wins in the end against the erratic +violence of the strongest trout. She had managed +then that Guy should join the Injun camp, and +gloried in his outrageously exaggerated accounts of +how he could lick them all at anything, "though +they wuz so much older'n bigger'n he wuz."</p> +<p> +But on this day he was fallen in hard luck. His +father saw him coming, met him with a "gad" and +lashed him furiously. Knowing perfectly well that +the flogging would not stop till the proper effect was +produced, and that was to be gauged by the racket, +Guy yelled his loudest. This was the uproar the +boys had heard.</p> +<p> +"Now, ye idle young scut! I'll larn ye to go +round leaving bars down. You go an' tend to +your work." So instead of hiking back gloriously +laden with Calfskins, Guy was sent to ignominious +and un-Injun toil in the garden.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="324">324</a></span> +Soon he heard his mother: "Guysie, Guysie." +He dropped his hoe and walked to the kitchen.</p> +<p> +"Where you goin'?" roared his father from afar. +"Go back and mind your work."</p> +<p> +"Maw wants me. She called me."</p> +<p> +"You mind your work. Don't you dar' on your +life to go thayer."</p> +<p> +But Guy took no notice and walked on to his +mother. He knew that at this post-thrashing stage +of wrath his father was mouthy and harmless, and +soon he was happy eating a huge piece of bread and +jam.</p> +<p> +"Poor dear, you must be hungry, an' your Paw +was so mean to you. There, now, don't cry," +for Guy began to weep again at the recollection of +his wrongs. Then she whispered confidentially: +"Paw's going to Downey's this afternoon, an' you +can slip away as soon as he's gone, an' if you work +well before that he won't be so awful mad after +you come back. But be sure you don't let down +the bars, coz if the pig was to get in Raften's woods +dear knows what."</p> +<p> +This was the reason of Guy's delay. He did not +return to camp with the skins till late that day. +As soon as he was gone, his foolish, doting mother, +already crushed with the burden of the house, left +everything and hoed two or three extra rows of +cabbages, so "Paw" should find a great showing of +work when he came back.</p> +<p> +The Calfskins were hard as tin and, of course, had +the hair on.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="325">325</a></span> +Caleb remarked, "It'll take two or three days to +get them right," and buried them in a marshy, muddy +pool in the full sunlight. "The warmer the better."</p> +<p> +Three days later he took them out. Instead of +being thin, hard, yellow, semi-transparent, they +now were much thicker, densely white, and soft +as silk. The hair was easily scraped off and the +two pieces were pronounced all right for drumheads.</p> +<p> +Caleb washed them thoroughly in warm water, +with soap to clear off the grease, scraping them on +both sides with a blunt knife; then he straightened +the outer edge of the largest, and cut a thin strip +round and round it till he had some sixty feet of rawhide +line, about three-quarters of an inch wide. +This he twisted, rolled and stretched until it was +nearly round, then he cut from the remainder a +circular piece thirty inches across, and a second from +the "unchawed" part of the other skin. He laid +these one on the other, and with the sharp point of +a knife he made a row of holes in both, one inch +from the edge and two inches apart. Then he set one +skin on the ground, the drum-log on that and the +other skin on the top, and bound them together with +the long lace, running it from hole No. 1 on the +<img src="images/sketch176.gif" alt="Calfskin face of Drumhead" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="150" height="243" border="0" /> +top to No. 2 on the bottom, then to No. 3 on the top, +and No. 4 on the bottom, and so on twice around, +till every hole had a lace through it and the crossing +laces made a diamond pattern all around. At +first this was done loosely, but tightened up when +once around, and finally both the drum-heads were +<span class="left"><a name="326">326</a></span> +drawn tense. To the surprise of all, Guy promptly +took possession of the finished drum. "Them's +my Calfskins," which, of course, was true.</p> +<p> +And Caleb said, with a twinkle in his eye, "The +wood <i>seems</i> to go with the skins."</p> +<p> +A drumstick of wood, with a piece of sacking +lashed on to soften it, was made, and Guy was disgusted +to find how little sound the drum gave out.</p> +<p> +"'Bout like pounding a fur cap with a lamb's +tail," Sam thought.</p> +<p> +<img src="images/sketch177.gif" width="100" height="139" alt="The Indian Drum" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +"You hang that up in the shade to dry and you'll +find a change," said the Trapper.</p> +<p> +It was quite curious to note the effect of the drying +as the hours went by. The drum seemed to be +wracking and straining itself in the agony of effort, +and slight noises came from it at times. When +perfectly dry the semi-transparency of the rawhide +came back, and the sound now was one to +thrill the Red-man's heart.</p> +<p> +Caleb taught them a little Indian war chant, and +they danced round to it as he drummed and sang, +till their savage instincts seemed to revive. But +above all it worked on Yan. As he pranced around +in step his whole nature seemed to respond; he felt +himself a part of that dance. It was in himself; +it thrilled him through and through and sent his +blood exulting. He would gladly have given up all +the White-man's "glorious gains" to live with the +feeling called up by that Indian drum.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="327">327</a></span> +<h3><a name="3IX">IX</a></h3> +<h3>The Cat And The Skunk</h3> + +<p> +Sam was away on a "massacree" to get some +bread. Guy had been trapped by his natural +enemy and was serving a term of hard labour in +the garden; so Yan was alone in camp. He went +<img src="images/sketch178.gif" width="75" height="312" alt="track of small mud turtle" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +around the various mud albums, but discovered +nothing new, except the fact that tracks were getting +more numerous. There were small Skunk and +Mink tracks with the large ones now. As he came +by the brush fence at the end of the blazed trail he +saw a dainty little Yellow Warbler feeding a great +lubberly young Cow-bird that, evidently, it had +brought up. He had often heard that the Cow-bird +habitually "plays Cuckoo" and leaves its egg in +the nest of another bird, but this was the first time +he had actually seen anything of it with his own +eyes. As he watched the awkward mud-coloured +Cow-bird flutter its ungrown wings and beg help +from the brilliant little Warbler, less than half its +size, he wondered whether the fond mother really +was fooled into thinking it her own young, or whether +she did it simply out of compassion for the foundling. +He now turned down creek to the lower mud +album, and was puzzled by a new track like this.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="328">328</a></span> +He sketched it, but before the drawing was done +it dawned on him that this must be the track of a +young Mud-turtle. He also saw a lot of very familiar +tracks, not a few being those of the common Cat, +and he wondered why they should be about so much +and yet so rarely seen. Of course the animals were +chiefly nocturnal, but the boys were partly so, +<img src="images/sketch179.gif" width="136" height="245" alt="Cardinal Flower" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +and always on the ground now, so that explanation +was not satisfactory. He lay down on his +breast at the edge of the brook, which had here cut +in a channel with steep clay walls six feet high and +twenty feet apart. The stream was very small now—a +mere thread of water zigzagging over the level +muddy floor of the "cañon," as Yan loved to call +it. A broad, muddy margin at each side of the +water made a fine place of record for the travelling +Four-foots, and tracks new and old were there in +abundance.</p> +<p> +The herbage on the bank was very rank and full +of noisy Grasshoppers and Crickets. Great masses of +orange Jewelweed on one side were variegated with +some wonderful Cardinal flowers. Yan viewed all +this with placid content. He knew their names +now, and thus they were transferred from the list +of tantalizing mysteries to that of engaging and +wonderful friends. As he lay there on his breast +his thoughts wandered back to the days when he +did not know the names of any flowers or birds—when +all was strange and he alone in his hunger to know +them, and Bonnerton came back to him with new, +strange force of reminder. His father and mother, +<span class="left"><a name="329">329</a></span> +his brother and schoolmates were there. It seemed like +a bygone existence, though only two months ago. +He had written his mother to tell of his arrival, and +once since to say that he was well. He had received +a kind letter from his mother, with a scripture text +or two, and a postscript from his father with some +sound advice and more scripture texts. Since +then he had not written. He could not comprehend +how he could so completely drift away, and yet +clearly it was because he had found here in Sanger +the well for which he had thirsted.</p> +<p> +As he lay there thinking, a slight movement nearer +the creek caught his eye. A large Basswood had +been blown down. Like most of its kind, it was hollow. +Its trunk was buried in the tangle of rank summer +growth, but a branch had been broken off and left +a hole in the main stem. In the black cavern of the +hole there appeared a head with shining green eyes, +then out there glided onto the log a common gray +Cat. She sat there in the sunshine, licked her paws, +dressed her fur generally, stretched her claws and +legs after the manner of her kind, walked to the end +of the log, then down the easy slope to the bottom +of the cañon. Here she took a drink, daintily shook +the water from her paws, and set the hair just right +with a stroke. Then to Yan's amusement she examined +all the tracks much as he had done, though it +seemed clear that her nose, not her eyes, was judge. +She walked down stream, leaving some very fine +<img src="images/sketch180.gif" width="140" height="195" alt="Orange Jewelweed" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +impressions that Yan mentally resolved to have +<span class="left"><a name="330">330</a></span> +in his note-book, very soon suddenly stopped, +looked upward and around, a living picture of +elegance, sleekness and grace, with eyes of green +fire then deliberately leaped from the creek bed to +the tangle of the bank and disappeared.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch181.gif" width="101" height="499" alt="Cat Tracks" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +This seemed a very commonplace happening, but +the fact of a house Cat taking to the woods lent her +unusual interest, and Yan felt much of the thrill +that a truly wild animal would have given him, and +had gone far enough in art to find exquisite pleasure +in the series of pictures the Cat had presented to +his eyes.</p> +<p> +He lay there for some minutes expecting her to +reappear; then far up the creek he heard slight +rattling of the gravel. He turned and saw, not the +Cat, but a very different and somewhat larger animal. +Low, thick-set, jet black, with white marks and +an immense bushy tail—Yan recognized the Skunk +at once, although he had never before met a wild +one in daylight. It came at a deliberate waddle, +nosing this way and that. It rounded the bend and +was nearly opposite Yan, when three little Skunks +of this year's brood came toddling after the mother.</p> +<p> +The old one examined the tracks much as the Cat +had done, and Yan got a singular sense of brotherhood +in seeing the wild things at his own study.</p> +<p> +Then the old Skunk came to the fresh tracks of +the Cat and paused so long to smell them that the +three young ones came up and joined in. One of +the young ones went to the bank where the Cat +<span class="left"><a name="331">331</a></span> +came down. As it blew its little nose over the fresh +scent, the old Skunk waddled to the place, became +quite interested, then climbed the bank. The little +ones followed in a disjointed procession, varied by +one of them tumbling backward from the steep trail.</p> +<p> +The old Skunk reached the top of the bank, then +mounted the log and followed unerringly the Cat's +back trail to the hole in the trunk. Down this she +peered a minute, then, sniffing, walked in, till nothing +could be seen but her tail. Now Yan heard loud, +shrill mewing from the log, "<i>Mew, mew, m-e-u-w, +m-e-e-u-w,"</i> and the old Skunk came backing out, +holding a small gray Kitten.</p> +<p> +The little thing mewed and spit energetically, +holding on to the inside of the log. But the old +Skunk was too strong—she dragged it out. Then +holding it down with both paws, she got a good firm +grip of its neck and turned to carry it down to the +bed of the brook. The Kitten struggled vigorously, +and at last got its claws into the Skunk's eye and gave +such a wrench that the ill-smelling villain loosened +its hold a little and so gave the Kitten another chance +to squeal, which it did with a will, putting all its +strength into a succession of heartrending <i>mee-ow—mee-ows.</i> +Yan's heart was touched. He was about +to dash to the rescue when there was a scrambling +in the far grass, a rush of gray, and the Cat—the +<img src="images/sketch183.gif" width="138" height="229" alt="a picture of demon rage, eyes ablaze, fur erect, ears back" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +old mother Cat was on the scene, a picture of demon +rage, eyes ablaze, fur erect, ears back. With the +<span class="left"><a name="332">332</a></span> +spring of a Deer and the courage of a Lion she made +for the black murderer. Eye could not follow the +flashings of her paws. The Skunk recoiled and +stared stupidly, but not long; nothing was "long" +about it. Her every superb muscle was tingling with +force and mad with hate as the mother Cat closed +like a swooping Falcon. The Skunk had no time +to aim that dreadful gun, and in the excitement +fired a volley of the deadly musky spray backward, +drenching her own young as they huddled in the +trail.</p> +<p> +Tooth and claw and deadly grip—the old Cat +raged and tore, the black fur flew in every direction, +and the Skunk for once lost her head and fired +random shots of choking spray that drenched herself +as well as the Cat. The Skunk's head and neck +were terribly torn. The air was suffocating with +the poisonous musk. The Skunk was desperately +wounded and threw herself backward into the water. +Blinded and choking, though scarcely bleeding, the +old Cat would have followed even there, but the +Kitten, wedged under the log, mewed piteously and +stayed the mother's fury. She dragged it out unharmed +but drenched with musk and carried it +quickly to the den in the hollow log, then came out +again and stood erect, blinking her blazing eyes—for +they were burning with the spray—lashing her tail, +the image of a Tigress eager to fight either part or +all the world for the little ones she nursed. But the +old Skunk had had more than enough.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="333">333</a></span> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus15a.jpg" width="534" height="740" alt="The old Cat raged and tore" border="0" /></p> +<span class="left"><a name="335">335</a></span> +<p>She scrambled +off down the cañon. Her three young ones had +tumbled over each other to get out of the way when +they got that first accidental charge of their mother's +battery. She waddled away, leaving a trail of blood +and smell, and they waddled after, leaving an odour +just as strong.</p> +<p> +Yan was thrilled by the desperate fight of the +heroic old Cat. Her whole race went up higher in +his esteem that day; and the fact that the house +Cat really could take to the woods and there maintain +herself by hunting was all that was needed to give +her a place in his list of animal heroes.</p> +<p> +Pussy walked uneasily up and down the log, from +the hole where the Kittens were to the end overlooking +the cañon. She blinked very hard and was +evidently suffering severely, but Yan knew quite +well that there was no animal on earth big enough +or strong enough to frighten that Cat from her post +at the door of her home. There is no courage more +indomitable than that of a mother Cat who is guarding +her young.</p> +<p> +At length all danger of attack seemed over, and +Pussy, shaking her paws and wiping her eyes, glided +into her hole. Oh, what a shock it must have been +to the poor Kittens, though partly prepared by +their brother's unsavoury coming back. There was +the mother, whose return had always been heralded +by a delicious odour of fresh Mouse or bird, interwoven +with a loving and friendly odour of Cat, that was +in itself a promise of happiness. Scent is the main +thing in Cat life, and now the hole was darkened by +<span class="left"><a name="336">336</a></span> +a creature that was rank with every nasal guarantee +of deadly enmity. Little wonder that they all fled +puffing and spitting to the dark corners. It was a +hard case; all the little stomachs were upset for a +long time. They could do nothing but make +the best of it and get used to it. The den never +smelt any better while they were there, and even +after they grew up and lived elsewhere many storms +passed overhead before the last of the Skunk smell +left them.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="337">337</a></span> +<h3><a name="3X">X</a></h3> +<h3>The Adventures Of A Squirrel Family</h3> + +<p> +"I'll bet I kin make a Woodpecker come out of +that hole," said Sapwood, one day as the three +Red-men proceeded, bow in hand, through a far +<img src="images/sketch185.gif" width="132" height="430" alt="the hollow stub" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +corner of Burns's Bush. He pointed to a hole in +the top of a tall dead stub, then going near he struck +the stub a couple of heavy blows with a pole. To +the surprise of all there flew out, not a Woodpecker, +but a Flying Squirrel. It scrambled to the top of +the stub, looked this way and that, then spread its +legs, wings and tail and sailed downward, to rise +slightly at the end of its flight against a tree some +twenty feet away. Yan bounded to catch it. His +fingers clutched on its furry back, but he got such +a cut from its sharp teeth that he was glad to let it +go. It scrambled up the far side of the trunk and +soon was lost in the branches.</p> +<p> +Guy was quite satisfied that he had carried out +his promise of bringing a Woodpecker out of the +hole, "For ain't a Flying Squirrel a kind of Woodpecker?" +he argued. He was, in consequence, very +"cocky" the rest of the day, proposing to produce +a Squirrel whenever they came to a stub with a hole +in it, and at length, after many failures, had the +satisfaction of driving a belated Woodpecker out +<span class="left"><a name="338">338</a></span> +of its nest.</p> +<p> +The plan was evidently a good one for discovering +living creatures. Yan promptly adopted it, and +picking up a big stick as they drew near another +stub with holes, he gave three or four heavy thumps. +A Red Squirrel scrambled out of a lower hole and +hid in an upper one; another sharp blow made it +pop out and jump to the top of the stub, but eventually +back into the lower hole.</p> +<p> +The boys became much excited. They hammered +the stub now without making the Squirrel reappear. +<img src="images/sketch186a.gif" width="180" height="279" alt="'Let's cut it down,' said Little Beaver" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +"Let's cut it down," said Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"Show you a better trick than that," replied the +Woodpecker. He looked about and got a pole +some twenty feet long. This he placed against a +rough place high up on the stub and gave it a violent +push, watching carefully the head of the stub. Yes! +It swayed just a little. Sam repeated the push, +careful to keep time with the stub and push always +just as it began to swing away from him. The +other boys took hold of the pole and all pushed +together, as Sam called, "Now—now—now—"</p> +<p> +A single push of 300 or 400 pounds would scarcely +have moved the stub, but these little fifty-pound +pushes at just the right time made it give more and +more, and after three or four minutes the roots, +that had begun to crack, gave way with a craunching +sound, and down crashed the great stub. Its hollow +top struck across a fallen log and burst open in a +shower of dust, splinters and rotten wood. The +<span class="left"><a name="339">339</a></span> +boys rushed to the spot to catch the Squirrel, if +possible. It did not scramble out as they expected +it would, even when they turned over the fragments. +They found the front of the stub with the old Woodpecker +hole in it, and under that was a mass of finely +shredded cedar bark, evidently a nest. Yan eagerly +turned it over, and there lay the Red Squirrel, quite +still and unharmed apparently, but at the end of her +nose was a single drop of blood. Close beside her +were five little Squirrels, evidently a very late brood, +for they were naked, blind and helpless. One of +them had at its nose a drop of blood and it lay as +still as the mother. At first the hunters thought the +old one was playing 'Possum, but the stiffness of +death soon set in.</p> +<p> +Now the boys felt very guilty and sorry. By +thoughtlessly giving way to their hunting instincts +they had killed a harmless mother Squirrel in the +act of protecting her young, and the surviving little +ones had no prospect but starvation.</p> +<p> +Yan had been the most active in the chase, and +now was far more conscience-stricken than either of +the others.</p> +<p> +"What are we going to do with them?" asked the +Woodpecker. "They are too young to be raised +for pets."</p> +<p> +"Better drown them and be done with them," +suggested Sappy, recalling the last honours of several +broods of Kittens at home.</p> +<img src="images/sketch187.gif" width="142" height="107" alt="Sappy's solution " align="right" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="340">340</a></span> +"I wish we could find another Squirrel's nest to +put them into," said Little Beaver remorsefully, +and then as he looked at the four squirming, helpless +things in his hand the tears of repentance filled his +eyes. "We might as well kill them and end their +misery. We can't find another Squirrel's nest so +late as this." But after a little silence he added, +"I know some one who will put them out of pain. +She may as well have them. She'd get them anyway, +and that's the old gray wild Cat. Let's put them +in her nest when she's away."</p> +<p> +This seemed a reasonable, simple and merciful +way of getting rid of the orphans. So the boys +made for the "cañon" part of the brook. At one +time of the afternoon the sun shone so as to show +plainly all that was in the hole. The boys went very +quietly to Yan's lookout bank, and seeing that only +the Kittens were there, Yan crept across and dropped +the young Squirrels into the nest, then went back +to his friends to watch, like Miriam, the fate of the +foundlings.</p> +<p> +They had a full hour to wait for the old Cat, and +as they were very still all that time they were rewarded +with a sight of many pretty wild things.</p> +<p> +A Humming-bird "boomed" into view and hung +in a misty globe of wings before one Jewel-flower +after another.</p> +<p> +"Say, Beaver, you said Humming-birds was +something or other awful beautiful," said Woodpecker, +pointing to the dull grayish-green bird +before them.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="341">341</a></span> +"And I say so yet. Look at that," as, with a +turn in the air, the hanging Hummer changed its +jet-black throat to flame and scarlet that silenced +the critic.</p> +<p> +After the Humming-bird went away a Field-mouse +was seen for a moment dodging about in the grass, +and shortly afterward a Shrew-mole, not so big as +the Mouse, was seen in hot pursuit on its trail.</p> +<p> +Later a short-legged brown animal, as big as a +Rabbit, came nosing up the dry but shady bed of the +brook, and as it went beneath them Yan recognized +by its little Beaver-like head and scaly oar-shaped +tail that it was a Muskrat, apparently seeking for +water.</p> +<p> +There was plenty in the swimming-pond yet, and +the boys realized that this had become a gathering +place for those wild things that were "drowned out +by the drought," as Sam put it.</p> +<p> +The Muskrat had not gone more than twenty +minutes before another deep-brown animal appeared. +"Another Muskrat; must be a meeting," whispered +the Woodpecker. But this one, coming close, proved +a very different creature. As long as a Cat, but +lower, with broad, flat head and white chin and +throat, short legs, in shape a huge Weasel, there +was no mistaking it; this was a Mink, the deadly +enemy of the Muskrat, and now on the track of its +prey. It rapidly turned the corner, nosing the trail +like a Hound. If it overtook the Muskrat before it +got to the pond there would be a tragedy. If the +Muskrat reached the deep water it might possibly +<span class="left"><a name="342">342</a></span> +escape. But just as sure as the pond became a +gathering place for Muskrats it would also become +a gathering place for Mink.</p> +<p> +Not five minutes had gone since the Mink went by +before a silent gray form flashed upon the log opposite. +Oh, how sleek and elegant it looked! What perfection +of grace she seemed after the waddling, hunchy +Muskrat and the quick but lumbering Mink. There +is nothing more supple and elegant than a fine Cat, +and men of science the world over have taken the Cat +as the standard of perfection in animal make-up. +Pussy glanced about for danger. She had brought +no bird or Mouse, for the Kittens were yet too young +for such training. The boys watched her with +intensest interest. She glided along the log to the +hole—the Skunk-smelling hole—uttered her low +"<i>purrow, purrow</i>," that always sets the hungry +Kittens agog, and was curling in around them, when +she discovered the pink Squirrel-babies among her +own. She stopped licking the nearest Kitten, +stared at a young Squirrel, and smelled it. Yan +wondered what help that could be when everything +smelled of Skunk. But it did seem to decide her, for +she licked it a moment, then lying down she gathered +them all in her four-legged embrace, turned her chin +up in the air and Sappy announced gleefully that +"The little Squirrels were feeding with the little +Cats."</p> +<p> +The boys waited a while longer, then having made +sure that the little Squirrels had been lovingly +<span class="left"><a name="343">343</a></span> +adopted by their natural enemy, they went quietly +back to camp. Now they found a daily pleasure +in watching the mixed family.</p> +<p> +And here it may be as well to give the rest of +the story. The old gray Cat faithfully and lovingly +nursed those foundlings. They seemed to prosper, +and Yan, recalling that he had heard of a Cat actually +raising a brood of Rabbits, looked forward to the +day when Kittens and Squirrelets should romp +together in the sun. After a week Sappy maintained +that only one Squirrel appeared at the breakfast +table, and in ten days none. Yan stole over to the +log and learned the truth. All four were dead in the +bottom of the nest. There was nothing to tell why. +The old Cat had done her best—had been all love +and tenderness, but evidently had not been able +to carry out her motherly intentions.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch188.gif" width="191" height="65" alt="The old Cat had done her best" border="0" /></p> + + +<img src="images/sketch189.gif" alt="Black-billed Cuckoo" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="166" height="306" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="344">344</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XI">XI</a></h3> +<h3>How To See The Woodfolk</h3> + +<p> +The days went merrily now, beginning each morning +with a hunting of the Woodchuck. The boys +were on terms of friendship with the woods +that contrasted strongly with the feelings of that +first night.</p> +<p> +This was the thought in Sam's mind when he one +day remarked, "Say, Yan, do you remember the +night I slep' with the axe an' you with the hatchet?"</p> +<p> +The Indians had learned to meet and conquer +all the petty annoyances of camp life, and so forgot +them. Their daily routine was simplified. Their +acquaintance with woodfolk and wood-ways had +grown so fast that now they were truly at home. +The ringing "<i>Kow</i>—<i>Kow</i>—<i>Kow</i>" in the tree-tops was +no longer a mere wandering voice, but the summer +song of the Black-billed Cuckoo. The loud, rattling, +birdy whistle in the low trees during dull weather +Yan had traced to the Tree-frog.</p> +<img src="images/sketch190.gif" width="118" height="143" alt="Tree-frog" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> + +<p> +The long-drawn "<i>Pee—re-e-e-e"</i> of hot afternoons +was the call of the Wood-peewee, and a vast number +of mysterious squeaks and warbles had been traced +home to the ever-bright and mischievous Blue Jay.</p> +<p> +The nesting season was now over, as well as the +song season; the birds, therefore, were less to be seen, +<span class="left"><a name="345">345</a></span> +but the drying of the streams had concentrated +much life in the swimming-pond. The fence had +been arranged so that the cattle could reach one end +of it to drink, but the lower parts were safe from +their clumsy feet, and wild life of many kinds were +there in abundance.</p> +<p> +The Muskrats were to be seen every evening in +the calm pool, and fish in great numbers were in the +deeper parts. Though they were small, the boys +found them so numerous and so ready to bite that +fishing was great sport, and more than one good +meal they had from that pond. There were things +of interest discovered daily. In a neighbour's field +Sam had found another Woodchuck with a "price +on his head." Rabbits began to come about the +camp at night, especially when the moon was +bright, and frequently of late they had heard a +querulous, yelping bark that Caleb said was made +by a Fox "probably that old rascal that lives in +Callahan's woods."</p> +<p> +The gray Cat in the log was always interesting. +The boys went very regularly to watch from a distance, +but for good reasons did not go near. First, +they did not wish to scare her; second, they knew +that if they went too close she would not hesitate to +attack them.</p> +<p> +One of the important lessons that Yan learned +was this. In the woods <i>the silent watcher sees the +most</i>. The great difficulty in watching was how to +pass the time, and the solution was to sit and <i>sketch.</i> +<span class="left"><a name="346">346</a></span> +Reading would have done had books been at hand, +but not so well as sketching, because then the eyes +are fixed on the book instead of the woods, and the +turning of the white pages is apt to alarm the shy +woodfolk.</p> +<p> +Thus Yan put in many hours making drawings of +things about the edge of the pond.</p> +<p> +As he sat one day in stillness a Minnow leaped from +the water and caught a Fly. Almost immediately a +<img src="images/336a.gif" width="118" height="248" alt="Kingfisher" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +Kingfisher that had been shooting past stopped in +air, hovered, and darting downward, came up with a +Minnow in his beak, flew to a branch to swallow its +prey, but no sooner got there when a Chicken-hawk +flashed out of a thick tree, struck the Kingfisher +with both feet and bore him downward to the bank—in +a moment would have killed him, but a long, +brown creature rushed from a hole in the bank and +sprang on the struggling pair, to change the scene in +a twinkling. The three stragglers separated, the +Hawk to the left, the Kingfisher to the right, the +Minnow flopped back into the pool, and the Mink +was left on the shore with a mouthful of feathers +and looking very foolish. As it stood shaking the +down from its nose another animal came gliding +down through the shrubbery to the shore—the old +gray Cat. The Mink wrinkled up his nose, showed +two rows of sharp teeth and snarled in a furious +manner, but backed off under a lot of roots. The +Cat laid down her ears; the fur on her back and tail +stood up; she crouched a little, her eyes blazing +<span class="left"><a name="347">347</a></span> +and the end of her tail twitching, and she answered +the snarling of the Mink with a low growl. The +Mink was evidently threatening "sudden death" to +the Cat, and Pussy evidently was not much impressed. +The Mink retreated farther under the roots till +nothing but the green glowing of his eyes was to be +seen, and the Cat, coming forward, walked calmly +by his hiding-place and went about her business. +The snarling under the root died away, and as soon +as his enemy was gone the Mink dived into the +water and was lost to view.</p> +<p> +These two animals had a second meeting, as Yan +had the luck to witness from his watching-place. +He had heard the "plop" of a deft plunge, and looked +in time only to see the spreading rings near the shore. +Then the water was ruffled far up in the pond. A +brown spot showed and was gone. A second appeared, +to vanish as the first had done. Later, a +Muskrat crawled out on the shore, waddled along +for twenty feet, then, plunging in, swam below, came +up at the other bank, and crawled under a lot of +overhanging roots. A minute later the Mink appeared, +his hair all plastered close till he looked like +a four-legged Snake. He landed where the Muskrat +had come out, followed the trail so that it was lost, then +galloped up and down the shore, plunged in, swam +across, and beat about the other shore. At last he +struck the trail and followed. Under the root +there were sounds of a struggle, the snarling of the +mink, and in two or three minutes he appeared +<span class="left"><a name="348">348</a></span> +dragging out the body of the Muskrat. He sucked +its blood and was eating the brains when again the +gray Cat came prowling up the edge of the pond and, +not ten feet off, stood face to face with the Mink, +as she had done before.</p> +<p> +The Water Weasel saw his enemy but made no +attempt to escape from her. He stood with forepaws +on his victim and snarling a warning and defiance to +the Cat. Pussy, after glaring for a few seconds, +leaped lightly to the high bank, passed above the +Mink, then farther on leaped down, and resumed her +journey up the shore.</p> +<p> +Why should the Mink fear the Cat the first time, +and the Cat the Mink the second? Yan believed +that ordinarily the Cat could "lick," but that now +the Mink had right on his side; he was defending his +property, and the Cat, knowing that, avoided a +quarrel; whereas the same Cat would have faced +a thousand Mink in defense of her Kittens.</p> +<p> +These two scenes did not happen the same day, +but are told together because Yan always told them +together afterward to show that the animals understand +something of right and wrong.</p> +<p> +But later Yan had another experience with the +Muskrats. He and Sam were smoothing out the +lower album for the night, when a long stream of +water came briskly down the middle of the creek +bed, which had been dry for more than a week. + +"Hallo," said Woodpecker, "where's that from?"</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="349">349</a></span> +"A leak in the dam," said Little Beaver, with fear +in his voice.</p> +<p> +The boys ran up to the dam and learned that the +guess was right. The water had found an escape +round the end of the dam, and a close examination +showed that it had been made by a burrowing +Muskrat.</p> +<p> +It was no little job to get it tightly closed up. +But the spade was handy, and a close-driven row +of stakes with plenty of stiff clay packed behind not +only stopped the leak but gave a guarantee that in +future that corner at least would be safe.</p> +<p> +When Caleb heard of the Muskrat mischief he +said:</p> +<p> +"Now ye know why the Beavers are always so dead +sore on the Muskrats. They know the Rats are +liable to spoil their dams any time, so they kill them +whenever they get the chance."</p> +<p> +Little Beaver rarely watched an hour without +seeing something of interest in the swamp. The +other warriors had not the patience to wait so +long and they were not able to make a pastime of +sketching.</p> +<p> +Yan made several hiding-places where he found +that living things were most likely to be seen. Just +below the dam was a little pool where various Crawfish +and thread-like Eels abounding proved very +attractive to Kingfisher and Crow, while little Tip-ups +or Teetering Snipe would wiggle their latter end +on the level dam, or late in the day the never-failing +Muskrat would crawl out on a flat stone and sit +<span class="left"><a name="350">350</a></span> +like a fur cap. The cañon part of the creek was +another successful hiding-place, but the very best +was at the upper end of the pond, for the simple +reason that it gave a view of more different kinds +of land. First the water with Muskrats and occasionally +a Mink, next the little marsh, always there, +but greatly increased now by the back-up of the +water. Here one or two Field-mice and a pair of +Sora Rails were at home. Close at hand was the +thick woods, where Partridges and Black Squirrels +were sometimes seen.</p> +<img src="images/sketch192.gif" width="196" height="182" alt="Sora Rails" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p> +Yan was here one day sketching the trunk of a +Hemlock to pass the watching time, but also because +he had learned to love that old tree. He never +sketched because he loved sketching; he did not; +the motive always was love of the thing he was +drawing.</p> +<p> +A Black-and-white Creeper had crawled like a +Lizard over all the trunks in sight. A Downy +Woodpecker had digged a worm out of a log by +labour that most birds would have thought ill-paid +by a dozen such worms. A Chipmunk had come +nearer and nearer till it had actually run over his +foot and then scurried away chattering in dismay +at its own rashness; finally, a preposterous little +Cock Chickadee sang "<i>Spring soon</i>—<i>spring soon</i>," as +though any one were interested in the gratuitous and +unconvincing fib, when a brown, furry form hopped +noiselessly from the green leaves by the pond, +<span class="left"><a name="351">351</a></span> +skipped over a narrow bay without wetting its feet, +paused once or twice, then in the middle of the open +glade it sat up in plain view—a Rabbit. It sat so +long and so still that Yan first made a sketch that +took three of four minutes, then got out his watch +and timed it for three minutes longer before it +moved in the least. Then it fed for some time, +and Yan tried to make a list of the things it ate +and the things it shunned, but could not do so +with certainty.</p> +<p> +A noisy Flicker came out and alighted close by on +a dried branch. The Rabbit, or really a Northern +Hare, "froze"—that is, became perfectly still for a +moment—but the Flicker marks were easy to read +and had long ago been learned as the uniform of a +friend, so the Rabbit resumed his meal, and when +the Flicker flew again he paid no heed. A Crow +passed over, and yet another. "No; no danger +from them." A Red-shouldered Hawk wailed in +the woods; the Rabbit heard that and every other +sound, but the Red-shoulder is not dangerous, +and he knew it. A large Hawk with <i>red tail</i> +circled silently over the glade, and the Rabbit +froze on the instant. That same red tail was the +mark of a dreaded foe. How well Bunny had +learned to know them all!</p> +<p> +A bunch of clover tempted him to a full repast, +after which he hopped into a tussock in the midst +of the glade and there turned himself into a moss-bump, +his legs swallowed up in his fur, and his ears +laid over his back like a pair of empty gloves or +<span class="left"><a name="352">352</a></span> +a couple of rounded shingles; his nose-wabblings +reduced in number, and he seemed to be sleeping in +the last warm rays of the sun. Yan was very +anxious to see whether his eyes were open or not; +he had been told that Rabbits sleep with open eyes, +but at this distance he could not be sure. He had +no field-glass and Guy was not at hand, so the point +remained in doubt.</p> +<p> +The last sun-blots had gone from the trail and the +pond was all shadowed by the trees on the western +side. A Robin began its evening hymn on a tall +tree, where it could see the red sun going down, and +a Veery was trilling his <i>weary, weary, weary</i> in the +Elder thicket along the brook, when another, a +larger animal, loomed up in the distant trail and +glided silently toward Yan. Its head was low +and he could not make out what it was. As it stood +there for a few seconds Yan wet his finger in his +mouth and held it up. A slight coolness on the +side next the coming creature told Yan that the +breeze was from it to him and would not betray him. +It came on, seeming to grow larger, turned a little +to one side, and then Yan saw plainly by the sharp +nose and ears and the bushy tail that it was nothing +less than a Fox, probably the one that often barked +<img src="images/sketch193.gif" width="134" height="143" alt="fox" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +near camp at night.</p> +<p> +It was trotting away at an angle, knowing nothing +of the watching boy nor of the crouching Rabbit, +when Yan, merely to get a better look at the cunning +one, put the back of his hand to his mouth and by +<span class="left"><a name="353">353</a></span> +sucking made a slight Mouse-like squeak, sweetest +music, potent spellbinder, to a hungry Fox, and +he turned like a flash. For a moment he stood, +head erect, full of poise and force in curb; a +second squeak—he came slowly back toward the +sound and in so doing passed between Yan and the +Rabbit. He had crossed its old trail without feeling +much interest, but now the breeze brought its +<i>body scent</i>. Instantly the Fox gave up the Mouse +hunt—no hunter goes after Mice when big game +is at hand—and began an elaborate and beautiful +stalk of the Rabbit—the Rabbit that he had not seen. +But his nose was his best guide. He cautiously zigzagged +up the wind, picking his steps with the greatest +care, and pointing with his nose like a Pointer Dog. +Each step was bringing him nearer to Bunny +as it slept or seemed asleep in the tussock. Yan +wondered whether he ought not to shout out and +end the stalk before the Rabbit was caught, but +as a naturalist he was eager to see the whole thing +out and learn how the Fox would make the capture. +The red-furred gentleman was now within fifteen +feet of the tussock and still the gray one moved not. +Now he was within twelve feet—and no move; +ten feet—and Bunny seemed in tranquil sleep; +eight feet—and now the Fox for the first time seemed +to actually see his victim. Yan had hard work to +keep from shouting a warning; six feet—and now +the Fox was plainly preparing for a final spring.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="354">354</a></span> +"Is it right to let him?" and Yan's heart beat +with excitement.</p> +<p> +The Fox brought his feet well under him, tried the +footing till it was perfect, gathered all his force, +then with silent, vicious energy sprung straight for +the sleeper. Sleeping? Oh, no! Not at all. Bunny +was playing his own game. The moment the Fox +leaped, he leaped with equal vigour the opposite +way and out under his enemy, so Reynard landed +on the empty bunch of grass. Again he sprang, +but the Rabbit had rebounded like a ball in the +other direction, and continued this bewildering +succession of marvellous erratic hops. The Fox in +vain tried to keep up, for these wonderful side jumps +are the Rabbit's strength and the Fox's weakness; +and Bunny went zigzag—hop—skip—into the thicket +and was gone before the Fox could get his heavier +body under speed at all.</p> +<p> +Had the Rabbit bounded out as soon as he saw +the Fox coming he might have betrayed himself +unnecessarily; had he gone straight away when the +Fox leaped for him he might have been caught +in three or four leaps, for the enemy was under full +speed, but by biding his time he had courted no +danger, and when it did come he had played the +only possible offset, and "lives in the greenwood +still."</p> +<p> +The Fox had to seek his supper somewhere else, +and Yan went to camp happy in having learned +another of the secrets of the woods.</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="355">355</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XII">XII</a></h3> +<h3>Indian Signs And Getting Lost</h3> + +<p> +"What do you mean when you say Indian signs, +Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"Pretty near anything that shows there's +Injuns round: a moccasin track, a smell of smoke, a +twig bent, a village, one stone a-top of another or a +white settlement scalped and burned—they all are +Injun signs. They all mean something, and the +Injuns read them an' make them, too, jest as you +would writing."</p> +<p> +"You remember the other day you told us three +smokes meant you were coming back with scalps."</p> +<p> +"Well, no; it don't har'ly mean that. It means +'Good news'—that is, with some tribes. Different +tribes uses 'em different."</p> +<p> +"Well, what does one smoke mean?"</p> +<p> +"As a rule just simply '<i>Camp is here</i>'"</p> +<p> +"And two smokes?"</p> +<p> +"Two smokes means '<i>Trouble</i>'—may mean, <i>'I am +lost.'</i>"</p> +<p> +"I'll remember that; <i>double for trouble</i>."</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch194a.gif" width="136" height="215" alt="Good Luck" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +"Three means good news. <i>There's luck in odd +numbers</i>."</p> +<p> +"And what is four?"</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="356">356</a></span> +"Well, it ain't har'ly ever used. If I seen four +smokes in camp I'd know <i>something big</i> was on—maybe +a Grand Council."</p> +<p> +"Well, if you saw five smokes what would you +think?"</p> +<p> +"I'd think some blame fool was settin' the hull +place a-blaze," Caleb replied with the sniff end of a +laugh.</p> +<p> +"Just now you said one stone on another was a +sign. What does it mean?"</p> +<p> +"Course I can't speak for all Injuns. Some has +it for one thing an' some for another, but usually +in the West two stones or 'Buffalo chips' settin' one +on the other means 'This is the trail'; and a little +stone at the left of the two would mean 'Here we +turned off to the left'; and at the other side, 'Here +we turned to the right.' Three stones settin' one +on top of another means, 'This is sure enough the +trail,' 'Special' or 'Particular' or 'Look out'; an' a +pile of stones just throwed together means 'We +camped here 'cause some one was sick.' They'd be +the stones used for giving the sick one a steam bath."</p> +<p> +"Well, what would they do if there were no stones?"</p> +<p> +"Ye mean in the woods?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, or smooth prairie."</p> +<p> +"Well, I pretty near forget, it's so long ago, but +le's see now," and Yan worried Caleb and Caleb +threshed his memory till they got out a general +scheme, or Indian code, though Caleb was careful +to say that "some Injuns done it differently." +<img src="images/346a.gif" alt="Indian sign Pile of Stones - 'We camped here because one of us was sick'" hspace="15" style="float: left" width="264" height="116" border="0" /> +</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="357">357</a></span> +<br /><br /> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch196.jpg" width="392" height="580" alt="INDIAN SIGNS" border="0" /></p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="359">359</a></span> +Yan must needs set about making a signal fire +at once, and was disappointed to find that a hundred +yards away the smoke could not be seen above +the tree-tops, till Caleb showed him the difference +between a clear fire and a smoke or smudge fire.</p> +<p> +"Begin with a clear fire to get the heat, then +smother it with green grass and rotten wood. There, +now you see the difference," and a great crooked, +angling pillar of smoke rolled upward as soon as +the grass and punk began to sizzle in the glow of +embers.</p> +<p> +"I bet ye kin see that ten miles away if ye'r on a +high place to look for it."</p> +<p> +"I bet I could see it twenty miles," chirped in +Guy.</p> +<p> +"Mr. Clark, were you ever lost?" continued the +tireless asker.</p> +<p> +"Why, course I was, an' more than once. Every +one that goes in the woods is bound to get lost once +in awhile."</p> +<p> +"What—do the Indians?"</p> +<p> +"Of course! Why not? They're human, an' I +tell you when you hear a man brag that he never +was lost, I know he never was far from his mother's +apron string. Every one is bound to get lost, but +the real woodsman gets out all right; that's the +difference."</p> +<p> +"Well, what would you do if you got lost?"</p> +<img src="images/sketch197.gif" width="135" height="378" alt="Solidago nemoralis or Prairie Goldenrod" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +"Depends on where. If it was a country that I +didn't know, and I had friends in camp, after I'd +tried my best I'd jest set right down and make two +<span class="left"><a name="360">360</a></span> +smoke fires. 'Course, if I was alone I'd try to make +a bee line in the likeliest direction, an' this is easy to +make if ye kin see the sun and stars, but stormy +weather 'tain't possible. No man kin do it, an' if +ye don't know the country ye have to follow some +stream; but I'm sorry for ye if ever ye have to do +that, for it's the worst walking on earth. It will +surely bring ye out some place—that is, it will +keep ye from walking in a circle—but ye can't make +more than four or five miles a day on it."</p> + +<p> +"Can't you get your direction from moss on the +tree trunks?"</p> +<p> +"<i>Naw!</i> Jest try it an' see; moss on the north +side of a tree and rock; biggest branches on the +south of a trunk; top of a Hemlock pointing to east; +the biggest rings of growth on the south side of a +stump, an' so on. It fits a tree standin' out by +itself in the open—the biggest ring is in the south, +but it don't fit a tree on the south side of an opening; +then the biggest rings is on the north. If ye have +a compass in hand it's all kind o' half true—that +is, just a little bit true; but it ain't true; it's on'y +a big lie, when ye'r scared out o' your wits an' +needin' to know. I never seen but one good compass +plant, an' that was the prairie Golden Rod. +Get a bunch of them in the open and the most of +them point north, but under cover of taller truck +they jest point every which way for Sunday.</p> + +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="361">361</a></span> +<p class="center"><img src="images/illus16a.jpg" width="554" height="797" alt="The Two Smokes" border="0" /></p> +<span class="left"><a name="363">363</a></span> +<p> +"If ye find a beaten game trail, ye follow that +an it'll bring ye to water—that is, if ye go the +right way, an' that ye know by its gettin' stronger. +If it's peterin' out, ye'r goin' in the wrong direction. +A flock of Ducks or a Loon going over is sure to be +pointing for water. Y're safe to follow.</p> +<p> +"If ye have a Dog or a Horse with ye he kin +bring ye home all right. Never knew them to fail +but oncet, an' that was a fool Horse; there is sech +oncet in awhile, though there's more fool Dogs.</p> +<p> +"But come right down to it, the compass is the +safest thing. The sun and stars is next, an' if ye +know your friends will come ye'r best plan is to +set right down and make two smoke fires, keep +them a-going, holler every little while, and keep +calm. Ye won't come to no harm unless ye'r a +blame fool, an' such ought to stay to hum, where +they'll be nursed."</p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="364">364</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XIII">XIII</a></h3> +<h3>Tanning Skins and Making Moccasins</h3> + +<p> +Sam had made a find. A Calf had been killed +and its skin hung limp on a beam in the barn. +His father allowed him to carry this off, and +now he appeared with a "fresh Buffalo hide to +make a robe."</p> +<p> +"I don't know how the Injuns dress their robes," +he explained, "but Caleb does, and he'll tell you, +and, of course, I'll pay no attention."</p> +<p> +The old Trapper had nothing to do, and the only +bright spots in his lonely life, since his own door +was shut in his face, were visits to the camp. These +had become daily, so it was taken as a matter of +course when, within an hour after Sam's return, he +"happened round."</p> +<p> +"How do the Indians tan furs and robes?" Yan +asked at once.</p> +<p> +"Wall, different ways—"</p> +<p> +But before he could say more Hawkeye reappeared +and shouted:</p> +<p> +"Say, boys, Paw's old Horse died!" and he grinned +joyfully, merely because he was the bearer of news.</p> +<p> +"Sappy, you grin so much your back teeth is +gettin' sunburned," and the Head Chief eyed him +<span class="left"><a name="365">365</a></span> +<img src="images/355a.gif" width="127" height="282" alt="Hawkeye" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +sadly.</p> +<p> +"Well, it's so, an' I'm going to skin out his tail +for a scalp. I bet I'll be the Injunest one of the +crowd."</p> +<p> +"Why don't you skin the hull thing, an' I'll show +you how to make lots of Injun things of the hide," +Caleb added, as he lighted his pipe.</p> +<p> +"Will you help me?</p> +<p> +"It's same as skinnin a Calf. I'll show you +where to get the sewing sinew after the hide's off."</p> +<p> +So the whole camp went to Burns's field. Guy +hung back and hid when he saw his father there +drawing the dead Horse away with the plough +team.</p> +<p> +"Good-day, Jim," was Caleb's greeting, for they +were good friends. "Struck hard luck with the +Horse?"</p> +<p> +"No! Not much. Didn't cost nothing; got him +for boot in a swap. Glad he's dead, for he was +foundered."</p> +<p> +"We want his skin, if you don't."</p> +<p> +"You're welcome to the hull thing."</p> +<p> +"Well, just draw it over by the line fence +we'll bury what's left when we're through."</p> +<p> +"All right. You hain't seen that durn boy o' +mine, have you?"</p> +<p> +"Why, yes; I seen him not long ago," said Sam. +"He was p'inting right for home then."</p> +<p> +"H-m. Maybe I'll find him at the house."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="366">366</a></span> +"Maybe you will." Then Sam added under his +breath, "I don't think."</p> +<p> +So Burns left them, and a few minutes later Guy +sneaked out of the woods to take a secondary part +in the proceedings.</p> +<p> +Caleb showed them how to split the skin along +the under side of each leg and up the belly. It +was slow work skinning, but not so unpleasant as +Yan feared, since the animal was fresh.</p> +<p> +Caleb did the most of the work; Sam and Yan +helped. Guy assisted with reminiscences of his +own Calf-skinning and with suggestions drawn from +his vast experiences.</p> +<p> +When the upper half of the skin was off, Caleb +remarked: "Don't believe we can turn him over, +and when the Injuns didn't have a Horse at hand +to turn over the Buffalo they used to cut the skin +in two down the line of the back. I guess we +better do that. We've got all the rawhide we need, +anyhow."</p> +<p> +So they cut off the half they had skinned, took the +tail and the mane for "scalps," and then Caleb sent +Yan for the axe and a pail.</p> +<p> +He cut out a lump of liver and the brains of the +Horse. "That," said he, "is for tanning, an' here +is where the Injun woman gits her sewing thread."</p> +<p> +He made a deep cut alongside the back bone from +the middle of the back to the loin, then forcing his +fingers under a broad band of whitish fibrous tissue, +he raised it up, working and cutting till it ran down +to the hip bone and forward to the ribs. This +<span class="left"><a name="367">367</a></span> +sewing sinew was about four inches wide, very thin, +and could easily be split again and again till it was +like fine thread.</p> +<p> +"There," he said, "is a hank o' thread. Keep +that. It'll dry up, but can be split at any time, and +soaking in warm water for twenty minutes makes +it soft and ready for use. Usually, when she's +sewing, the squaw keeps a thread soaking in her +mouth to be ready. Now we've got a Horse skin +and a Calfskin I guess we better set up a tan-yard."</p> +<p> +"Well, how do you tan furs, Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"Good many different ways. Sometimes just +scrape and scrape till I get all the grease and meat +off the inside, then coat it with alum and salt and +leave it rolled up for a couple of days till the alum +has struck through and made the skin white at the +roots of the hair, then when this is half dry pull +and work it till it is all soft.</p> +<p> +"But the Injuns don't have alum and salt, and +they make a fine tan out of the liver and brains, like +I'm going to do with this."</p> +<p> +"Well, I want to do it the Indian way."</p> +<p> +"All right, you take the brains and liver of your +Calf."</p> +<p> +"Why not some of the Horse brains and liver?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, I dunno. They never do it that way that +I've seen. Seems like it went best with its own +brains."</p> +<p> +"Now," remarked the philosophical Woodpecker, +"I call that a wonderful provision of nature, always +<span class="left"><a name="368">368</a></span> +to put Calf brains and liver into a Calfskin, and just +enough to tan it."</p> +<p> +"First thing always is to clean your pelt, and +while you do that I'll put the Horsehide in the mud +to soak off the hair." He put it in the warm mud +to soak there a couple of days, just as he had done +the Calfskin for the drum-heads, then came to superintend +the dressing of the Buffalo "robe."</p> +<p> +Sam first went home for the Calf brains and liver, +then he and Yan scraped the skin till they got out +a vast quantity of grease, leaving the flesh side +bluish-white and clammy, but not greasy to the +touch. The liver of the Calf was boiled for an hour +and then mashed up with the raw brains into a +tanning "dope" or mash and spread on the flesh +side of the hide, which was doubled, rolled up and +put in a cool place for two days. It was then opened +out, washed clean in the brook and hung till nearly +dry. Then Caleb cut a hardwood stake to a sharp +edge and showed Yan how to pull and work the hide +over the edge till it was all soft and leathery.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch200.gif" width="132" height="270" alt="tanning stake" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +The treatment of the Horsehide was the same, +once the hair was removed, but the greater thickness +needed a longer soaking in the "tan dope."</p> +<p> +After two days the Trapper scraped it clean and +worked it on the sharp-edged stake. It soon began to +look like leather, except in one or two spots. On +examining these he said:</p> +<p> +"H-m, Tanning didn't strike right through every +place. So he buttered it again with the mash and +<span class="left"><a name="369">369</a></span> +gave it a day more; then worked it as before over +the angle of the pole till it was soft and fibrous.</p> +<p> +"There," said he, "that's Injun tan leather. I +have seen it done by soaking the hide for a few +days in liquor made by boiling Hemlock or Balsam +bark in water till it's like brown ink, but it +ain't any better than that. Now it needs one thing +more to keep it from hardening after being wet. +It has to be smoked."</p> +<p> +So he made a smoke fire by smothering a clear +fire with rotten wood; then fastening the Horsehide +into a cone with a few wooden pins, he hung +it in the dense smoke for a couple of hours, first +one side out, then the other till it was all of a rich +smoky-tan colour and had the smell so well known +to those who handle Indian leather.</p> +<p> +"There it is; that's Injun tan, an' I hope you see +that elbow grease is the main thing in tannin'."</p> +<p> +"Now, will you show us how to make moccasins +and war-shirts?" asked Little Beaver, with his usual +enthusiasm.</p> +<p> +"Well, the moccasins is easy, but I won't promise +about the war-shirts. That's pretty much a case +of following the pattern of your own coat, with the +front in one piece, but cut down just far enough for +your head to go through, instead of all the way, +and fixed with tie-strings at the throat and fringes at +the seams and at the bottom; it hain't easy to do. +But any one kin larn to make moccasins. There is +two styles of them—that is, two main styles. Every +<span class="left"><a name="370">370</a></span> +Tribe has its own make, and an Injun can tell what +language another speaks as soon as he sees his footgear. +The two best known are the Ojibwa, with soft +sole—sole and upper all in one, an' a puckered instep—that's +what Ojibwa means—'puckered moccasin.' +The other style is the one most used in the Plains. +You see, they have to wear a hard sole, 'cause the +country is full of cactus and thorns as well as sharp +stones."</p> +<p> +"I want the Sioux style. We have copied their +teepee and war bonnet—and the Sioux are the best +Indians, anyway."</p> +<p> +"Or the worst, according to what side you're on," +was Caleb's reply. But he went on: "Sioux Injuns +are Plains Injuns and wear a hard sole. Let's see, +now. I'll cut you a pair."</p> +<p> +"No, make them for <i>me</i>. It's my Horse," said +Guy.</p> +<p> +"No, you don't. Your Paw give that to me." +Caleb's tone said plainly that Guy's laziness had +made a bad impression, so he had to stand aside +while Yan was measured. Caleb had saved a part +of the hide untanned though thoroughly cleaned. +This was soaked in warm water till soft. Yan's +foot was placed on it and a line drawn around the +foot for a guide; this when cut out made the sole of +one moccasin (A, cut below), and by turning it underside +up it served as pattern to cut the other.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch201.gif" width="495" height="200" alt="Moccasin pattern" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Now Caleb measured the length of the foot and +added one inch, and the width across the instep, adding +<span class="left"><a name="371">371</a></span> +half an inch, and with these as greatest length and +breadth cut out a piece of soft leather (B). Then in +this he made the cut <i>a b</i> on the middle line one way +and <i>c d</i> on the middle line the other way. A second +piece the reverse of this was cut, and next a piece +of soft leather for inside tongue (C) was sewn to the +large piece (B), so that the edge <i>a b</i> of C was fast +to <i>a b</i> of B. A second piece was sewn to the other +leather (B reversed).</p> +<p> +"Them's your vamps for uppers. Now's the time +to bead 'em if you want to."</p> +<p> +"Don't know how."</p> +<p> +"Well, I can't larn you that; that's a woman's +work. But I kin show you the pattern of the first +pair I ever wore; I ain't likely to forget 'em, for I +killed the Buffalo myself and seen the hull making." +He might have added that he subsequently married +the squaw, but he did not.</p> +<p> +"There's about the style" [D]. "Them three-cornered +red and white things all round is the hills +where the moccasins was to carry me safely; on +the heel is a little blue pathway with nothing in it: +that is behind—it's past. On the instep is three +red, white and blue pathways where the moccasin +was to take me: they're ahead—in the future. Each +path has lots of things in it, mostly changes and +trails, an' all three ends in an Eagle feather—that +stands for an honour. Ye kin paint them that way +after they're made. Well, now, we'll sew on the +upper with a good thick strand of sinew in the +<span class="left"><a name="372">372</a></span> +needle—or if you have an awl you kin do without +a needle on a pinch—and be sure to bring the stitches +out the edge of the sole instead of right through, +then they don't wear off. That's the way." [E.] +<img src="images/sketch202.gif" alt="Moccasin with puckered front" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="196" height="155" border="0" /> +</p> + +<p> +So they worked away, clumsily, while Guy snickered +and sizzled, and Sam suggested that Si Lee would +make a better squaw than both of them.</p> +<p> +The sole as well as the upper being quite soft +allowed them to turn the moccasin inside out as +often as they liked—and they did like; it seemed +necessary to reverse it every few minutes. But at +length the two pieces were fastened together all +around, the seam gap at the heel was quickly sewn +up, four pairs of lace holes were made (<i>a, b, c, d</i>, in +D), and an eighteen-inch strip of soft leather run +through them for a lace.</p> +<p> +Now Yan painted the uppers with his Indian +paints in the pattern that Caleb had suggested, and +the moccasins were done.</p> +<p> +A squaw would have made half a dozen good +pairs while Yan and Caleb made the one poor pair, +but she would not have felt so happy about it.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="373">373</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XIV">XIV</a></h3> +<h3>Caleb's Philosophy</h3> + +<p> +The tracks of Mink appeared from time to time +on Yan's creekside mud albums, and at length +another of these tireless watchers, placed at +the Wakan Rock, reported to him that Mink as well +as Skunks came there now for a nightly feast.</p> +<p> +The Mink was a large one, judging by the marks, +and Caleb was asked to help in trapping it.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch203.gif" width="70" height="89" alt="Mink track" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +"How do you trap Mink, Mr. Clark?" was the +question.</p> +<p> +"Don't trap 'em at all this time o' year, for they're +no good till October," was the answer.</p> +<p> +"Well, how do you trap them when they are in +season?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, different ways."</p> +<p> +It was slow work, but Yan kept on and at length +got the old man going.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch204.gif" width="79" height="147" alt="Mink track" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +"Airly days we always used a deadfall for Mink. +That's made like this, with a bird or a Partridge +head for bait. That kills him sure, sudden and +merciful. Then if it's cold weather he freezes and +keeps O.K. till you come around to get him; but +in warm weather lots o' pelts are spoiled by being +kept too long, so ye have to go round pretty often + +to save all you kill. Then some one brought in +<span class="left"><a name="374">374</a></span> +them new-fangled steel traps that catches them by +the foot and holds them for days and days, some +times, till they jest starve to death or chaw their +foot off to get free. I mind once I ketched a Mink +with only two legs left. He had been in a steel trap +twice before and chawed off his leg to get away. +Them traps save the trapper going round so often, +but they're expensive, and heavy to carry, and you +have got to be awful hard-hearted before ye kin +use 'em. I tell ye, when I thought of all the sufferin' +that Mink went through it settled me for steel +traps. Since then, says I, if ye must trap, use a +deadfall or a ketchalive, one or other; no manglin' +an' tormentin' for days. I tell ye that thar new +Otter trap that grabs them in iron claws ought to +be forbid by law; it ain't human.</p> +<p> +"Same way about huntin'. Huntin's great sport, +an' it can't be bad, 'cause I can't for the life of me +see that it makes men bad. 'Pears to me men as hunt +is humaner than them as is above it; as for the +cruelty—wall, we know that no wild animal dies +easy abed. They all get killed soon or late, an' +if it's any help to man to kill them I reckon he has +as good a right to do it as Wolves an' Wildcats. +It don't hurt any more—yes, a blame sight less—to +be killed by a rifle ball than to be chawed by Wolves. +The on'y thing I says is don't do it cruel—an' don't +wipe out the hull bunch. If ye never kill a thing +that's no harm to ye 'live an' no good to ye dead +nor more than the country kin stand, 'pears to me +<span class="left"><a name="375">375</a></span> +ye won't do much harm, an' ye'll have a lot o' real +fun to think about afterward.</p> +<p> +"But I mind a feller from Europe, some kind o' +swell, that I was guidin' out West. He had crippled +a Deer so it couldn't get away. Then he sat down +to eat lunch right by, and every few moments he'd +fire a shot into some part or another, experimentin' +an' aimin' not to kill it for awhile. I heard the +shootin' an' blattin', an when I come up I tell ye +it set my blood a-boilin'. I called him some names +men don't like, an' put that Deer out o' pain quick +as I could pull trigger. That bu'st up our party—I +didn't want no more o' him. He come pretty +near lyin' by the Deer that day. It makes me hot +yet when I think of it.</p> +<p> +"If he'd shot that Deer down runnin' an' killed +it as quick as he could it wouldn't 'a' suffered more +than if it had been snagged a little, 'cause bullets +of right weight numb when they hit. The Deer +wouldn't have suffered more than he naturally would +at his finish, maybe less, an' he'd 'a' suffered it at a +time when he could be some good to them as hunted +him. An' these yer new repeatin' guns is a curse. +A feller knows he has lots of shot and so blazes +away into a band o' Deer as long as he can see, an +lots gets away crippled, to suffer an' die; but when +a feller has only one shot he's going to place it +mighty keerful. Ef it's sport ye want, get a single-shot +rifle, ef it's destruction, get a Gatling-gun.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="376">376</a></span> +"Sport's good, but I'm agin this yer wholesale killin' +an' cruelty. Steel traps, light-weight bullets an' +repeatin' guns ain't human. I tell ye it's them as +makes all the sufferin'."</p> +<p> +This was a long speech for Caleb, but it was +really less connected than here given. Yan had to +keep him going with occasional questions. This +he followed up.</p> +<p> +"What do you think about bows and arrows, +Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"I wouldn't like to use them on big game like +Bear and Deer, but I'd be glad if shotguns was done +away with and small game could be killed only +with arrows. They are either sure death or clear +miss. There's no cripples to get away and die. +You can't fire an arrow into a flock of birds and +wipe out one hundred, like you can with one of them +blame scatterguns. It's them things that is killing +off all the small game. Some day they'll invent a +scattergun that is a pump repeater like them new +rifles, and when every fool has one they'll wonder +where all the small game has gone to.</p> +<p> +"No, sir, I'm agin them. Bows and arrows is +less destructful an' calls for more Woodcraft an' +give more sport—that is, for small game. Besides, +they don't make that awful racket, an' you know +who is the party that owns the shot, for every +arrow is marked."</p> +<p> +Yan was sorry that Caleb did not indorse the arrow +for big game, too.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="377">377</a></span> +The Trapper was well started now; he seemed +ready enough with information to-day, and Yan +knew enough to "run the rapids on the freshet."</p> +<p> +"How do you make a ketchalive?"</p> +<p> +"What for?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, Mink."</p> +<p> +"They ain't fit to catch now, and the young ones +need the mothers."</p> +<p> +"I wouldn't keep it. I only want to make a +drawing."</p> +<p> +"Guess that won't harm it if you don't keep it +too long. Have ye any boards? We used to +chop the whole thing out of a piece of Balsam wood +or White Pine, but the more stuff ye find ready-made +the easier it is. Now I'll show you how to +make a ketchalive if ye'll promise me never to +miss a day going to it while it is set."</p> +<p> +The boys did not understand how any one could +miss a day in visiting a place of so much interest, +and readily promised.</p> +<p> +So they made a ketchalive, or box-trap, two feet +long, using hay wire to make a strong netting at +one end.</p> +<p> +"Now," said the trapper, "that will catch Mink, +Muskrat, Skunk, Rabbit—'most anything, 'cording +to where you put it and how you bait it."</p> +<p> +"Seems to me the Wakan Rock will be a good +place to try."</p> +<p> +So the trap was baited with a fish head firmly +lashed on the wire trigger.</p> +<img src="images/sketch205.gif" alt="Ketchalive" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="386" height="167" border="0" /> + +<p> <span class="left"><a name="378">378</a></span> +In the morning, as Yan approached, he saw that +it was sprung. A peculiar whining and scratching +came from it and he shouted in great excitement: +"Boys, boys, I've got him! I've got the Mink!"</p> +<p> +They seized the trap and held it cautiously up +for the sunlight to shine through the bars, and there +saw to their disgust that they had captured only +the old gray Cat. As soon as the lid was raised she +bounded away, spitting and hissing, no doubt to +hurry home to tell the Kittens that it was all right, +although she had been away so long.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch206.gif" width="344" height="172" alt="The old grey cat" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="379">379</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XV">XV</a></h3> +<h3>A Visit from Raften</h3> + +<p> +Sam, I must have another note-book. It's no +good getting up a new 'massacree' of Whites, +'cause there ain't any note-books there, but +maybe your father would get one the next time +he drove to Downey's Dump. I suppose I'll have +to go on a peace party to ask him."</p> +<p> +Sam made no answer, but looked and listened out +toward the trail, then said: "Talk of the er—Angels, +here comes Da."</p> +<p> +When the big man strode up Yan and Guy became +very shy and held back. Sam, in full war-paint, +prattled on in his usual style.</p> +<p> +"Morning, Da; I'm yer kid. Bet ye'r in trouble +an' want advice or something."</p> +<p> +Raften rolled up his pendulous lips and displayed +his huge front tusks in a vast purple-and-yellow +grin that set the boys' hearts at ease.</p> +<p> +"Kind o' thought you'd be sick av it before now."</p> +<p> +"Will you let us stay here till we are?" chimed in +Sam, then without awaiting the reply that he did +not want, "Say, Da, how long is it since there was +any Deer around here?"</p> +<p> +"Pretty near twenty years, I should say." +<img src="images/369.gif" width="189" height="170" alt="Raften and Sam" hspace="15" style="float: right" border="0" /></p> + +<span class="left"><a name="380">380</a></span><br /> +<p> +"Well, look at that now," whispered the Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +Raften looked and got quite a thrill for the +dummy, half hidden in the thicket, looked much +like a real deer.</p> +<p> +"Don't you want to try a shot?" ventured Yan.</p> +<p> +Raften took the bow and arrow and made such a +poor showing that he returned them with the remark. +"Sure a gun's good enough for me," then, "Ole +Caleb been around since?"</p> +<p> +"Old Caleb? I should say so; why, he's our stiddy +company."</p> +<p> +"'Pears fonder o'you than he is of me."</p> +<p> +"Say, Da, tell us about that. How do you know +it was Caleb shot at you?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, I don't know it to prove it in a coort o' law, +but we quarr'led that day in town after the Horse +trade an' he swore he'd fix me an' left town. His +own stepson, Dick Pogue, stood right by and heard +him say it; then at night when I came along the road +by the green bush I was fired at, an' next day we +found Caleb's tobacco pouch and some letters not +far away. That's about all I know, an' all I want to +know. Pogue served him a mean trick about the +farm, but that's none o' my business. I 'spect the +old fellow will have to get out an' scratch for himself +pretty soon."</p> +<p> +"He seems kind-hearted," said Yan.</p> +<p> +"Ah, he's got an awful temper, an' when he gets +drunk he'd do anything. Other times he's all right."</p> +<span class="left"><a name="381">381</a></span><br /> +<p> +"Well, how is it about the farm?" Sam asked. +"Doesn't he own it?"</p> +<p> +"No, I guess not now. I don't r'aly know. I +only hear them say. Av coorse, Saryann ain't his +own daughter. She's nowt o' kin, but he has no +one else, and Dick was my hired man—a purty slick +feller with his tongue; he could talk a bird off a bush; +but he was a good worker. He married Sary and +persuaded the old man to deed them the place, him +to live in comfort with them to the end of his days. +But once they got the place, 'twas aisy to see that +Dick meant to get rid o' Caleb, an' the capsheaf +was put last year, about his Dog, old Turk. They +wouldn't have him 'round. They said he was +scaring the hens and chasing sheep, which is like +enough, for I believe he killed wan ov my lambs, +an' I'd give ten dollars to have him killed—making +sure 'twas him, av coorse. Rather than give up the +Dog, Caleb moved out into the shanty on the creek +at the other end of the place. Things was better +then, for Dick and Saryann let up for awhile an' +sent him lots o' flour an' stuff, but folks say they're +fixin' it to put the old man out o' that and get shet +of him for good. But I dunno; it's none o' my +business, though he does blame me for putting Dick +up to it."</p> +<img src="images/strangetrack.gif" width="100" height="150" alt="strange track" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"How's the note-book?" as Raften's eye caught +sight of the open sketch-book still in Yan's hand.</p> +<p> +"Oh, that reminds me," was the reply. "But +what is this?" He showed the hoof-mark be had +sketched. Raften examined it curiously.</p> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="382">382</a></span> +"H-m, I dunno'; 'pears to me moighty loike a big +Buck. But I guess not; there ain't any left."</p> +<p> +"Say, Da," Sam persisted, "wouldn't you be sore +if you was an old man robbed and turned out?"</p> +<p> +"Av coorse; but I wouldn't lose in a game of swap-horse, +an' then go gunnin' after the feller. If I had +owt agin him I'd go an' lick him or be licked, an' +take it all good-natured. Now that's enough. We'll +talk about something else."</p> +<p> +"Will you buy me another note-book next time +you go to Downey's Dump? I don't know how +much it will cost or I'd give you the money," said +Yan, praying mentally that it be not more than the +five or ten cents which was all his capital.</p> +<p> +"Shure; I'll charge it up. But ye needn't wait +till next week. Thayer's one back at the White +settlement ye can have for nothin'."</p> +<p> +"Say, Mr. Raften," Guy broke in, "I kin lick them +all at Deer-hunting."</p> +<p> +Sam looked at Yan and Yan looked at Sam, then +glanced at Guy, made some perfectly diabolical +signs, seized each a long knife and sprung toward +the Third War Chief, but he dodged behind Raften +and commenced his usual "Now you let me +'lone—"</p> +<p> +Raften's eye twinkled. "Shure, I thought ye was +all wan Tribe an' paceable."</p> +<p> +"We've got to suppress crime," retorted his son.</p> +<p> +"Make him let me 'lone," whimpered Sapwood.</p> +<p> +"We'll let ye off this time if ye find that Woodchuck. +It's near two days since we've had a +<span class="left"><a name="383">383</a></span> +skirmish."</p> +<p> +"All right," and he went. Within five minutes +he came running back, beckoning. The boys got +their bows and arrows, but fearing a trick they held +back. Guy dashed for his own weapons with unmistakable +and reassuring zest; then all set out for the +field. Raften followed, after asking if it would be +safe for him to come along.</p> +<p> +The grizzly old Woodchuck was there feeding in +a bunch of clover. The boys sneaked under the +fence, crawling through the grass in true Injun +fashion, till the Woodchuck stood up to look around, +then they lay still; when he went down they crawled +again, and all got within forty yards. Now the old +fellow seemed suspicious, so Sam said, "Next time +he feeds we all fire together." As soon, then, as the +Woodchuck's breast was replaced by the gray back, +the boys got partly up and fired. The arrows +whizzed around Old Grizzly, but all missed, and he +had scrambled to his hole before they could send a +second volley.</p> +<p> +"Hallo, why didn't you hit him, Sappy?"</p> +<p> +"I'll bet I do next time."</p> +<p> +When they returned to Raften he received them +with ridicule.</p> +<p> +"But ye'r a poor lot o' hunters. Ye'd all +starve if it wasn't for the White settlement nearby. +Faith, if ye was rale Injun ye'd sit up all night +at that hole till he come out in the morning: +then ye'd get him; an' when ye get through with +<span class="left"><a name="384">384</a></span> +that one I've got another in the high pasture ye kin +work on."</p> +<p> +So saying, he left them, and Sam called after +him:</p> +<p> +"Say, Da; where's that note-book for Yan? He's +the Chief of the 'coup-tally,' and I reckon he'll soon +have a job an' need his book. I feel it in my bones."</p> +<p> +"I'll lave it on yer bed." Which he did, and Yan +and Sam had the pleasure of lifting it out of the +window with a split stick.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch208.gif" width="392" height="52" alt="lifting the notebook" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="385">385</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XVI">XVI</a></h3> +<h3>How Yan Knew the Ducks Afar</h3> + +<p> +One day as the great Woodpecker lay on his +back in the shade he said in a tone of lofty +command:</p> +<p> +"Little Beaver, I want to be amused. Come hyar. +Tell me a story."</p> +<p> +"How would you like a lesson in Tutnee?" was +the Second Chief's reply, but he had tried this before, +and he found neither Sam nor Guy inclined to take +any interest in the very dead language.</p> +<p> +"Tell me a story, I said," was the savage answer +of the scowling and ferocious Woodpecker. + +"All right," said Little Beaver. "I'll tell you +a story of such a fine boy—oh, he was the noblest +little hero that ever wore pantaloons or got spanked +in school. Well, this boy went to live in the woods, +and he wanted to get acquainted with all the living +wild things. He found lots of difficulties and no one +to help him, but he kept on and on—oh! he was so +noble and brave—and made notes, and when he +learned anything new he froze on to it like grim +death. By and by he got a book that was some help, +but not much. It told about some of the birds as +if you had them <i>in your hand</i>. But this heroic youth +only saw them at a distance and he was stuck. One +day he saw a wild Duck on a pond so far away he +could only see some spots of colour, but he made a +<span class="left"><a name="386">386</a></span> +<img src="images/sketch209.gif" width="119" height="102" alt="Whistler duck" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +sketch of it, and later he found out from that rough +sketch that it was a Whistler, and then this wonderful +boy had an idea. All the Ducks are different; all +have little blots and streaks that are their labels, or +like the uniforms of soldiers. 'Now, if I can put +their uniforms down on paper I'll know the Ducks +as soon as I see them on a pond a long way off.' So +he set to work and drew what he could find. One +of his friends had a stuffed Wood-duck, so the +'Boy-that-wanted-to-know' +drew that from a long way off. +He got another from an engraving and two more from +the window of a taxidermist shop. But he knew +perfectly well that there are twenty or thirty different +kinds of Ducks, for he often saw others at a distance +and made far-sketches, hoping some day he'd find +out what they were. Well, one day the 'Boy-that-wanted-to-know' +sketched a new Duck on a pond, +and he saw it again and again, but couldn't find out +what it was, and there was his b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l sketch, +but no one to tell him its name, so when he saw that +he just had to go into the teepee and steal the First +War Chief's last apple and eat it to hide his emotion."</p> +<p> +Here Yan produced an apple and began to eat it +with an air of sadness.</p> +<p> +Without changing a muscle, the Great Woodpecker +continued the tale:</p> +<p> +"Then when the First War Chief heard the harrowing +tale of a blighted life, he said: 'Shucks, I didn't +want that old apple. It was fished out of the swill-barrel +anyway, but 'pears to me when a feller sets +<span class="left"><a name="389">389</a></span> +out to do a thing an' don't he's a 'dumb failure,' +which ain't much difference from a 'durn fool.'</p> +<p> +"Now, if this heroic youth had had gumption +enough to come out flat-footed, an' instead of stealing +rotten apples that the pigs has walked on, had told +his trouble to the Great Head War Chief, that native-born +noble Red-man would 'a' said: 'Sonny, quite +right. When in doubt come to Grandpa. You want +to get sharp on Duck. Ugh! Good'—then he'd 'a' +took that simple youth to Downey's Hotel at +Downey's Dump an' there showed him every kind o' +Duck that ever was born, an' all tagged an' labelled. +Wah! I have spoken."</p> +<p> +And the Great Woodpecker scowled ferociously at +Guy, who was vainly searching his face for a clue, not +sure but what this whole thing was some subtle +mockery. But Yan had been on the lookout for +this. Sam's face throughout had shown nothing +but real and growing interest. The good sense of +this last suggestion was evident, and the result was +an expedition was formed at once for Downey's +Dump, a little town five miles away, where the +railroad crossed a long bog on the Skagbog River. +Here Downey, the contractor, had carried the railroad +dump across a supposed bottomless morass +and by good luck had soon made a bottom and in +consequence a small fortune, with which he built a +hotel, and was now the great man of the town for +which he had done so much.</p> +<img src="images/sketch211.gif" alt="the pig" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="125" height="160" border="0" /> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="390">390</a></span> +"Guess we'll leave the Third War Chief in charge +of camp," said Sam, "an' I think we ought to go +disguised as Whites."</p> +<p> +"You mean to go back to the Settlement and join +the Whites?"</p> +<p> +"Yep, an' take a Horse an' buggy, too. It's five +miles."</p> +<p> +That was a jarring note. Yan's imagination had +pictured a foot expedition through the woods, but +this was more sensible, so he yielded.</p> +<p> +They went to the house to report and had a loving +reception from the mother and little Minnie. The +men were away. The boys quickly harnessed a +Horse and, charged also with some commissions from +the mother, they drove to Downey's Dump.</p> +<p> +On arriving they went first to the livery-stable to +put up the horse, then to the store, where Sam +delivered his mother's orders, and having made sure +that Yan had pencil, paper and rubber, they went into +Downey's. Yan's feelings were much like those of +a country boy going for the first time to a circus—now +he is really to see the things he has dreamed of +so long; now all heaven is his.</p> +<p> +And, curiously enough, he was not disappointed. +Downey was a rough, vigorous business man. He +took no notice of the boys beyond a brief "Morning, +Sam," till he saw that Yan was making very fair +sketches. All the world loves an artist, and now +there was danger of too much assistance.</p> +<p> +The cases could not be opened, but were swung +around and shades raised to give the best light. Yan +<span class="left"><a name="393">393</a></span> +went at once to the bird he had "far-sketched" on the +pond. To his surprise, it was a female Wood-duck. +He put in the whole afternoon drawing those Ducks, +male and female, and as Downey had more than +fifty specimens Yan felt like Aladdin in the Fairy +Garden—overpowered with abundance of treasure. +The birds were fairly well labelled with the popular +names, and Yan brought away a lot of sketches, +which made him very happy. These he afterward +carefully finished and put together in a Duck Chart +that solved many of his riddles about the Common +Duck.</p> + + + <hr class="medium" /> + +<span class="left"><a name="387">387</a></span> +<br /><br /> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus17a1.jpg" width="692" height="265" alt="The Fish-Ducks, Sawbills, or Mergansers" border="0" /> + <img src="images/illus17a2.jpg" width="692" height="772" alt="The River Ducks" border="0" /> +</p> + + + + +<span class="note2"> + + +4. Mallard <i>(Anas boschas</i>). Red feet; male has pale, greenish bill. Known in flight by white tail feathers and +thin white bar on wing.<br /><br /> + +5. Black Duck or Dusky Duck (<i>Anas obscura</i>). Dark bill, red feet, no white except in flight, then shows white +lining of wings.<br /><br /> + +6. Gadwall or Gray Duck <i>(Anas strepera</i>). Beak flesh-coloured on edges, feet reddish, a white spot on wing +showing in flight.<br /><br /> + +7. Widgeon or Baldpate (<i>A. americana</i>). Bill and feet dull blue; a large white spot on wing in flight; female +has sides reddish.<br /><br /> + +8. Green-winged Teal (<i>A. carolinensis</i>). Bill and feet dark.<br /><br /> + +9. Blue-winged Teal (<i>A. discors</i>). Bill and feet dark.<br /><br /> + +10. Shoveller (<i>Spatula clypeata</i>). Bill dark, feet red, eye yellow-orange; a white patch on wings showing in flight.<br /><br /> + +11. Pintail or Sprigtail (<i>Dafila acuta</i>). Bill and feet dull blue.<br /><br /> + +12. Wood Duck or Summer Duck (<i>Aix sponsa</i>). Bill of male red, paddle-box buff, bill of female and feet of both +dark.<br /><br /> +</span> + +<span class="left"><a name="391">391</a></span> +<p class="center"><img src="images/illus18a.jpg" width="682" height="996" alt="The Sea Ducks" border="0" /></p> + +<span class="note2"> +19. Bufflehead or Butterball (<i>Charitonetta albeola</i>).<br /><br /> + +20. Old-Squaw or Longtail (<i>Harelda hyemalis</i>). This is its winter plumage, in which it is mostly seen.<br /><br /> + +21. Black Scoter (<i>Oidemia americana</i>). A jet-black Duck with orange bill; no white on it anywhere.<br /><br /> + +22. White-winged Scoter (<i>0. deglandi</i>). A black Duck with white on cheek and wing; feet and bill orange; +much white on wing shows as they fly, sometimes none as they swim.<br /><br /> + +23. Surf Duck or Sea Coot (<i>O. perspicillata</i>). A black Duck with white on head, but none on wings: bill and +feet orange.<br /><br /> + +24. Ruddy Duck or Stiff-tailed Duck (<i>Erismatura jamaicensis</i>). Bill and feet bluish; male is in general a dull +red with white face.<br /><br /> +</span> + + <hr class="medium" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="393a">(393)</a></span> +When they got back to camp at dusk they found +a surprise. On the trail was a white thing, which on +investigation proved to be a ghost, evidently made +by Guy. The head was a large puff-ball carved like +a skull, and the body a newspaper.</p> +<p> +But the teepee was empty. Guy probably felt too +much reaction after the setting up of the ghost to sit +there alone in the still night.</p> +<img src="images/sketch212.gif" width="144" height="189" alt="the ghost" align="right" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<span class="left"><a name="394">394</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XVII">XVII</a></h3> +<h3>Sam's Woodcraft Exploit</h3> + +<p> +Sam's "long suit," as he put it, was axemanship. +He was remarkable even in this land of the axe, +and, of course, among the "Injuns" he was a +marvel. Yan might pound away for half an hour at +some block that he was trying to split and make no +headway, till Sam would say, "Yan, hit it right there," +or perhaps take the axe and do it for him; then at +one tap the block would fly apart. There was no rule +for this happy hit. Sometimes it was above the +binding knot, sometimes beside it, sometimes right +in the middle of it, and sometimes in the end of the +wood away from the binder altogether—often at +the unlikeliest places. Sometimes it was done by a +simple stroke, sometimes a glancing stroke, sometimes +with the grain or again angling, and sometimes a +compound of one or more of each kind of blow; but +whatever was the right stroke, Sam seemed to know +it instinctively and applied it to exactly the right +spot, the only spot where the hard, tough log was +open to attack, and rarely failed to make it tumble +apart as though it were a trick got ready beforehand. +He did not brag about it. He simply took it for +granted that he was the master of the art, and as +such the others accepted him.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="395">395</a></span> +On one occasion Yan, who began to think he now +had some skill, was whacking away at a big, tough +stick till he had tried, as he thought, every possible +combination and still could make no sign of a crack. +Then Guy insisted on "showing him how," without +any better result.</p> +<p> +"Here, Sam," cried Yan, "I'll bet this is a baffler +for you."</p> +<p> +Sam turned the stick over, selected a hopeless-looking +spot, one as yet not touched by the axe, +set the stick on end, poured a cup of water on +the place, then, when that had soaked in, he +struck with all his force a single straight blow at +the line where the grain spread to embrace the +knot. The aim was true to a hair and the block +flew open.</p> +<p> +"Hooray!" shouted Little Beaver in admiration.</p> +<p> +"Pooh!" said Sapwood. "That was just chance. +He couldn't do that again."</p> +<p> +"Not to the same stick!" retorted Yan. He +recognized the consummate skill and the cleverness +of knowing that the cup of water was just what was +needed to rob the wood of its spring and turn the +balance.</p> +<p> +But Guy continued contemptuously, "I had it +started for him."</p> +<p> +"<i>I</i> think that should count a <i>coup</i>," said Little +Beaver.</p> +<p> +"Coup nothin'," snorted the Third War Chief, +in scorn. "I'll give you something to do that'll try +if you can chop. Kin you chop a six-inch tree down +<span class="left"><a name="396">396</a></span> +in three minutes an' throw it up the wind?"</p> +<p> +"What kind o' tree?" asked the Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +"Oh, any kind."</p> +<p> +"I'll bet you five dollars I kin cut down a six-inch +White Pine in two minutes an' throw it any way +I want to. You pick out the spot for me to lay it. +Mark it with a stake an' I'll drive the stake."</p> +<p> +"I don't think any of the Tribe has five dollars to +bet. If you can do it we'll give you a grand coup +feather," answered Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"No spring pole," said Guy, eager to make it +impossible.</p> +<p> +"All right," replied the Woodpecker; "I'll do it +without using a spring pole."</p> +<p> +So he whetted up his axe, tried the lower margin +of the head, found it was a trifle out of the true—that +is, its under curve centred, not on the handle one +span down, but half an inch out from the handle. +A nail driven into the point of the axe-eye corrected +this and the chiefs went forth to select a tree. A +White Pine that measured roughly six inches through +was soon found, and Sam was allowed to clear away +the brush around it. Yan and Guy now took a +stout stake and, standing close to the tree, looked up +<img src="images/treecutting.gif" width="160" height="178" alt="precision tree-cutting" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +the trunk. Of course, every tree in the woods leans +one way or another, and it was easy to see that +this leaned slightly southward. What wind there +was came from the north, so Yan decided to set +the stake due north.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="397">397</a></span> +<p> +Sam's little Japanese eyes twinkled. But Guy +who, of course, knew something of chopping, fairly +exploded with scorn. "Pooh! What do you know? +That's easy; any one can throw it straight up the +wind. Give him a cornering shot and let him try. +There, now," and Guy set the stake off to the north-west. +"Now, smarty. Let's see you do that."</p> +<p> +"All right. You'll see me. Just let me look at it +a minute."</p> +<p> +Sam walked round the tree, studied its lean +and the force of the wind on its top, rolled up his +sleeves, slipped his suspenders, spat on his palms, +and, standing to west of the tree, said <i>"Ready</i>."</p> +<p> +Yan had his watch out and shouted "<i>Go</i>."</p> +<p> +Two firm, unhasty strokes up on the south side +of the tree left a clean nick across and two inches +deep in the middle. The chopper then stepped +forward one pace and on the north-northwesterly +side, eighteen inches lower down than the first cut, +after reversing his hands—which is what few can do—he +rapidly chopped a butt-kerf. Not a stroke was +hasty; not a blow went wrong. The first chips +that flew were ten inches long, but they quickly +dwindled as the kerf sank in. The butt-kerf was +two-thirds through the tree when Yan called "One +minute up." Sam stopped work, apparently without +cause, leaned one hand against the south side of the +tree and gazed unconcernedly up at its top.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch213.gif" width="93" height="356" alt="coup feather for axemanship" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +"Hurry up, Sam. You're losing time!" called +his friend. Sam made no reply. He was watching + +<span class="left"><a name="398">398</a></span> +the wind pushes and waiting for a strong one. It +came—it struck the tree-top. There was an ominous +crack, but Sam had left enough and pushed hard to +make sure; as soon as the recoil began he struck in +very rapid succession three heavy strokes, cutting +away all the remaining wood on the west side and +leaving only a three-inch triangle of uncut fibre. +All the weight was now northwest of this. The +tree toppled that way, but swung around on the +uncut part; another puff of wind gave help, the swing +was lost, the tree crashed down to the northwest and +drove the stake right out of sight in the ground.</p> +<p> +"Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! One minute and +forty-five seconds!" How Yan did cheer. Sam was +silent, but his eyes looked a little less dull and stupid +than usual, and Guy said "Pooh? That's nothin'."</p> +<p> +Yan took out his pocket rule and went to the +stump. As soon as he laid it on, he exclaimed "Seven +and one-half inches through where you cut," and again +he had to swing his hat and cheer.</p> +<p> +"Well, old man, you surely did it that time. That's +a grand coup if ever I saw one," and so, notwithstanding +Guy's proposal to "leave it to Caleb," +Sam got his grand Eagle feather as Axeman A1 of +the Sanger Indians.</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="399">399</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XVIII">XVIII</a></h3> +<h3>The Owls And The Night-School</h3> + +<p> +One night Sam was taking a last look at the +stars before turning in. A Horned Owl had +been hooting not far away.</p> +<p> +"<i>Hoo—hohoo-hoho—hoooooo</i>."</p> +<p> +And as he looked, what should silently sail to the +top of the medicine pole stuck in the ground twenty +yards away but the Owl.</p> +<p> +"Yan! Yan! Give me my bow and arrow, quick. +Here's a Cat-Owl—a chicken stealer, he's fair game."</p> +<p> +"He's only codding you, Yan," said Guy sleepily +from his blanket. "I wouldn't go."</p> +<p> +But Yan rushed out with his own and Sam's +weapons.</p> +<p> +Sam fired at the great feathery creature, but +evidently missed, for the Owl spread its wings and +sailed away.</p> +<p> +"There goes my best arrow. That was my +'Sure-death.'"</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch214.gif" width="70" height="487" alt="the Medicine Pole" border="0"hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +"Pshaw!" growled Yan, as he noted the miss. +"You can't shoot a little bit."</p> +<p> +But as they stood, there was a fluttering of broad +wings, and there, alighting as before on the medicine +pole, was the Owl again.</p> +<p> +"My turn now! "exclaimed Yan in a gaspy whisper.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="400">400</a></span> +He drew his bow, the arrow flew, and the Owl slipped +off unharmed as it had the first time.</p> +<p> +"Yan, you're no good. An easy shot like that. +Why, any idiot could hit that. Why didn't you +fetch her?"</p> +<p> +"'Cause I'm not an idiot, I suppose. I hit the +same place as you did, anyway, and drew just as +much blood."</p> +<p> +"Ef he comes back again you call me," piped Guy +in his shrill voice. "I'll show you fellers how to shoot. +You're no good at all 'thout me. Why, I mind the +time I was Deer-shooting——" but a fierce dash of +the whole Tribe for Sappy's bed put a stop to the +reminiscent flow and replaced it with whines of +"Now you let me alone. I ain't doin' nothin' to +you."</p> +<p> +During the night they were again awakened by +the screech in the tree-tops, and Yan, sitting up, +said, "Say, boys, that's nothing but that big Cat +Owl."</p> +<p> +"So it is," was Sam's answer; "wonder I didn't +think of that before."</p> +<p> +"I did," said Guy; "I knew it all the time."</p> +<p> +In the morning they went out to find their arrows. +The medicine pole was a tall pole bearing a feathered +shield, with the tribal totem, a white Buffalo, which +Yan had set up to be in Indian fashion. Sighting in +line from the teepee over this, they walked on, looking +far beyond, for they had learned always to draw the +arrow to the head. They had not gone twenty-five +feet before Yan burst out in unutterable astonishment: +<span class="left"><a name="401">401</a></span> +"Look! Look at that—and <i>that</i>———"</p> +<p> +There on the ground not ten feet apart were two +enormous Horned Owls, both shot fairly through the +heart, one with Sam's "Sure-death" arrow, the other +with Yan's "Whistler"; both shots had been true, +and the boys could only say, "Well, if you saw that +in print you would say it was a big lie!" It was +indeed one of those amazing things which happen +only in real life, and the whole of the Tribe with one +exception voted a <i>grand coup</i> to each of the hunters.</p> +<p> +Guy was utterly contemptuous. "They got so +close they hit by chance an' didn't know they done +it. If he had been shooting," etc., etc., etc.</p> +<p> +"How about that screech in the tree-tops, Guy?"</p> +<p> +"Errrrh."</p> +<p> +What a fascination the naturalist always finds in +a fine Bird. Yan revelled in these two. He measured +their extent of wing and the length from beak +to tail of each. He studied the pattern on their +quills; he was thrilled by their great yellow eyes +and their long, powerful claws, and he loved their +every part. He hated to think that in a few days +these wonderful things would be disgusting and fit +only to be buried.</p> +<p> +"I wish I knew hew to stuff them," he said.</p> +<p> +"Why don't you get Si Lee to show you," was +Sam's suggestion. "Seems to me I often seen +pictures of Injun medicine men with stuffed birds," +he added shrewdly and happily.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="402">402</a></span> +"Well, that's just what I will do."</p> +<p> +Then arose a knotty question. Should he go to +Si Lee and thereby turn "White" and break the charm +of the Indian life, or should he attempt the task of +persuading Si to come down there to work without +proper conveniences. They voted to bring Si to +camp. "Da might think we was backing out." +After all, the things needed were easily carried, and +Si, having been ambushed by a scout, consented to +come and open a night-school in taxidermy.</p> +<p> +The tools and things that he brought were a +bundle of tow made by unravelling a piece of rope, +some cotton wool, strong linen thread, two long +darning needles, arsenical soap worked up like +cream, corn-meal, some soft iron wire about +size sixteen and some of stovepipe size, a file, a +pair of pliers, wire cutters, a sharp knife, a pair of +stout scissors, a gimlet, two ready-made wooden +stands, and last of all a good lamp. The boys +hitherto had been content with the firelight.</p> +<p> +Thus in the forest teepee Yan had his first lesson +in the art that was to give him so much joy and +some sorrow in the future.</p> +<p> +Guy was interested, though scornful; Sam was +much interested; Yan was simply rapt, and Si Lee +was in his glory. His rosy red cheeks and his round +figure swelled with pride; even his semi-nude head +and fat, fumbling fingers seemed to partake of his +general elation and importance.</p> +<p> +First he stuffed the Owls' throats and wounds +with cotton wool.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="403">403</a></span> +Then he took one, cut a slit from the back of the +breast-bone nearly to the tail (<i>A</i> to <i>B</i>, Fig. 1, page +405), while Yan took the other and tried faithfully +to follow his example.</p> +<p> +He worked the skin from the body chiefly by the +use of his finger nails, till he could reach the knee of +each leg and cut this through at the joint with the +knife (<i>Kn,</i> Fig. 1, page 405). The flesh was removed +from each leg-bone down to the heel-joint (<i>Hl, Hl</i>, +Fig. 1), leaving the leg and skin as in <i>Lg</i>, Figure 2. +Then working back on each side of the tail, he cut +the "pope's nose" from the body and left it as part +of the skin, with the tail feathers in it, and this, Si +explained, was a hard place to get around. Sam +called it "rounding Cape Horn." As the flesh was +exposed Si kept it powdered thickly with corn-meal, +and this saved the feathers from soiling.</p> +<p> +Once around Cape Horn it was easy sailing. The +skin was rapidly pushed off till the wings were reached. +These were cut off at the joint deep in the breast +(under <i>J J</i>, Fig. 1, or seen on the back, <i>W J</i>, Fig. 2), +the first bone of each wing was cleared of meat, and +the skin, now inside out and well mealed, was pushed +off the neck up to the head.</p> +<p> +Here Si explained that in most birds it would slip +easily over the head, but in Owls, Woodpeckers, +Ducks and some others one had sometimes to help +it by a lengthwise slit on the nape (<i>Sn</i>, Fig. 2). "Owls +is hard, anyway," he went on, "though not so bad +as Water-fowl. If ye want a real easy bird for a +starter, take a Robin or a Blackbird, or any land +<span class="left"><a name="404">404</a></span> +Bird about that size except Woodpeckers." +<img src="images/389.gif" alt="Sam called it 'rounding Cape Horn'" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="265" height="109" border="0" /></p> +<p> +When the ears were reached they were skinned and +pulled out of the skull without cutting, then, after +the eyes were passed, the skin and body looked as +in Figure 2. Now the back of the head with the neck +and body was cut off (<i>Ct</i>, Fig. 2), and the first +operation of the skinning was done.</p> +<p> +Yan got along fairly well, tearing and cutting the +skin once or twice, but learning very quickly to +manage it.</p> +<p> +Now began the cleaning of the skin.</p> +<p> +The eyes were cut clean out and the brains and +flesh carefully scraped away from the skull.</p> +<p> +The wing bones were already cleaned of meat +down to the elbow joint, where the big quill feathers +began, and the rest of the wing had to be cleared of +flesh by cutting open the under side of the next joint +(<i>H</i> to <i>El</i>, Fig. 1). The "pope's nose" and the skin +generally was freed from meat and grease by scraping +with a knife and rubbing with the meal.</p> +<p> +Then came the poisoning. Every part of the bones +and flesh had to be painted with the creamy arsenical +soap, then the head was worked back into its place +and the skin turned right side out.</p> +<p> +When this was done it was quite late. Guy was +asleep, Sam was nearly so, and Yan was thoroughly +tired out.</p> +<p> +"Guess I'll go now," said Si. "Them skins is in +good shape to keep, only don't let them dry," so they +were wrapped up in a damp sack and put away in a +tin till next night, when Si promised to return and +finish the course in one more lesson.<br /><br /></p> +<span class="left"><a name="405">405</a></span> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch216a.jpg" width="392" height="672" alt="Owl-stuffing plate" border="0" /></p> + + +<h5>OWL-STUFFING PLATE</h5> +<span class="note"> +Fig. 1. The dead Owl, showing the cuts made in skinning it: A to B, for the body; El to H, on each wing, to +remove the meat of the second joint.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 2. After the skinning is done the skull remains attached to the skin, which is now inside out, the neck and +body are cut off at Ct. Sn to Sn shows the slit in the nape needed for Owls and several other kinds.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 3. Top view of the tow body, neck end up, and neck wire projecting.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 4. Side view of the tow body, with the neck wire put through it; the tail end is downward.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 5. The heavy iron wire for neck.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 6. The Owl after the body is put in; it is now ready to close up, by stitching up the slit on the nape, the +body slit B to C and the two wing slits El to H, on each wing.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 7. A dummy as it <i>would look</i> if all the feathers were off; this shows the proper position for legs and wings +on the body. At W is a glimpse of the leg wire entering the body at the middle of the side.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 8. Another view of the body without feathers; the dotted lines show the wires of the legs through the hard +body, and the neck wire.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 9. Two views of one of the wooden eyes; these are on a much larger scale than the rest of the figures in +this plate.<br /><br /> + +Fig. 10. The finished Owl, with the thread wrappings on and the wires still projecting; Nw is end of the neck +wire; Bp is back-pin—that is, the wire in the center of the back; Ww and Ww are the wing wires; Tl are +the cards pinned on the tail to hold it flat while it dries. The last operation is to remove the threads and +cut all the wires off close so that the feathers hide what remains.<br /><br /> +</span> +<hr class="medium" /> + + + +<p><span class="left"><a name="407">407</a></span> +While they were so working Sam had busied himself +opening the Owls' stomachs—"looking up their +records," as he called it. He now reported that one +had lynched a young Partridge and the other had +killed a Rabbit for its latest meal.</p> +<p> +Next night Si Lee came as promised, but brought +bad news. He had failed to find the glass Owl eyes +he had hoped were in his trunk. His ingenuity, however, +was of the kind that is never balked in a small +matter. He produced some black and yellow oil +paints, explaining, "Guess we'll make wooden eyes +do for the present, an' when you get to town you can +put glass ones in their place." So Sam was set to +work whittling four wooden eyes the shape of well-raised +buns and about three-quarters of an inch +across. When whittled, scraped and smooth, Si +painted them brilliant yellow with a central black +spot and put them away to dry (shown on a large +scale on page 405, Fig. 9, <i>a</i> and <i>b</i>).</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, he and Yan got out the two skins. +The bloody feathers on the breasts were washed +clean in a cup of warm water, then dried with cotton +and dusted all over with meal to soak up any moisture +left. The leg and wing bones were now wrapped +with as much tow as would take the place of the +removed meat. The eye sockets were partly filled +with cotton, then a long soft roll of tow about the +length and thickness of the original neck was worked +<span class="left"><a name="408">408</a></span> +up into the neck skin and into the skull and left hanging. +The ends of the two wing bones were fastened +two inches apart with a shackle of strong string (<i>X</i>, +Fig. 2 and Fig. 7). Now the body was needed.</p> +<p> +For this Si rolled and lashed a wad of tow with +strong thread until he made a dummy of the same +size and shape as the body taken out, squeezing and +sewing it into a hard solid mass. Next he cut about +two and a half feet of the large wire, filed both ends +sharp, doubled about four inches of one end back in +a hook (Fig. 5), then drove the long end through +the tow body from the tail end out where the neck +should join on (Figs. 3 and 4). This was driven well +in so that the short end of the hook was buried out +of sight. Now Si passed the projecting ends of the +long wire up the neck in the middle of the tow roll +or neck already there, worked it through the skull +and out at the top of the Owl's head, and got the +tow body properly placed in the skin with the +string that bound the wing bones across the back +(<i>X</i>, Fig. 7).</p> +<p> +Two heavy wires each eighteen inches long and +sharp at one end were needed for the legs. These +were worked up one through the sole of each foot +under the skin of the leg behind (<i>Lw</i>, Fig. 6), then +through the tow body at the middle of the side (<i>W</i>, +Fig. 7), after which the sharp end was bent with +pliers into a hook and driven back into the hard body +(after the manner of the neck wire, Fig. 4).</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="409">409</a></span> +Another wire was sharpened and driven through +the bones of the tail, fastening that also to the tow +body (<i>Tw</i>, Fig. 7).</p> +<p> +Now a little soft tow was packed into places where +it seemed needed to fit the skin on, and it remained +to sew up the opening below (<i>Bc</i> in Fig. 6), the wing +slits (<i>El, H</i>, Fig. 6 and Fig. 1), and the slit in the +nape (<i>Sn Sn</i>, Fig. 2) with half a dozen stitches, always +putting the needle into the skin from the flesh side.</p> +<p> +The projecting wires of the feet were put through +gimlet holes in the perch and made firm, and Si's +Owls were ready for their positions. They were now +the most ridiculous looking things imaginable, wings +floppy, heads hanging.</p> +<p> +"Here is where the artist comes in," said Si proudly, +conscious that this was himself. He straightened +up the main line of the body by bending the leg wires +and set the head right by hunching the neck into the +shoulders. "An Owl always looks over its shoulder," +he explained, but took no notice of Sam's query as +to "whose shoulder he expected it to look over." He +set two toes of each foot forward on the perch and two +back to please Yan, who insisted that that was Owly, +though Si had his doubts. He spread the tail a little +by pinning it between two pieces of card (<i>Tl</i>, Fig. 10), +gave it the proper slant, and now had the wings to +arrange.</p> +<img src="images/sketch217.gif" alt="stuffed owl" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="150" height="178" border="0" /> +<p> +They were drooping like those of a clucking hen. +A sharp wire of the small size was driven into the +bend of each wing (<i>0</i>, Fig. 7), nailing it in effect to +the body (<i>Ww</i> and <i>Ww</i>, Fig. 10). A long pin was +<span class="left"><a name="410">410</a></span> +set in the middle of the back (<i>Bp</i>, Fig. 10), then using +these with the wing wires and head wire as lashing +points, Si wrapped the whole bird with the thread +(Fig. 10), putting a wad of cotton here or a bit of +stick there under the wrapping till he had the position +and "feathering" perfect, as he put it.</p> +<p> +"We can put in the eyes now," said he, "or later, +if we soften the skin around the eye-sockets by putting +wet cotton in them for twenty-four hours."</p> +<p> +Yan had carefully copied Si's method with the +second Owl, and developed unusual quickness at it.</p> +<p> +His teacher remarked, "Wall, I larned lots o' +fellows to stuff birds, but you ketch on the quickest +I ever seen."</p> +<p> +Si's ideas of perfection might differ from those of a +trained taxidermist; indeed, these same Owls afforded +Yan no little amusement in later years, but for the +present they were an unmitigated joy.</p> +<p> +They were just the same in position. Si knew only +one; all his birds had that. But when they had dried +fully, had their wrappings removed, the wires cut +off flush and received the finishing glory of their +wooden eyes, they were a source of joy and wonder +to the whole Tribe of Indians.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="411">411</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XIX">XIX</a></h3> +<h3>The Trial of Grit</h3> + +<p> +The boys had made war bonnets after the "really +truly" Indian style learned from Caleb. White +Turkey tail-feathers and white Goose wing-feathers +dyed black at the tips made good Eagle +feathers. Some wisps of red-dyed horsehair from +an old harness tassel; strips of red flannel from an +old shirt, and some scraps of sheepskin supplied +the remaining raw material. Caleb took an +increasing interest, and helped them not only to +make the bonnet, but also to decide on what things +should count <i>coup</i> and what <i>grand coup</i>. Sam had +a number of feathers for shooting, diving, "massacreeing +the Whites," and his grand tufted feathers for +felling the pine and shooting the Cat-Owl.</p> +<p> +Among other things, Yan had counted coup for +trailing. The Deer hunt had been made still more +real by having the "Deer-boy" wear a pair of sandals +made from old boots; on the sole of each they put two +lines of hobnails in V shape, pointing forward. These +made hooflike marks wherever the Deer went. One +of the difficulties with the corn was that it gave no +clue to the direction or doubling of the trail, but the +sandals met the trouble, and with a very little corn to +help they had an ideal trail. All became very expert, +<img src="images/sketch218.gif" alt="the 'deer' sandals" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="196" height="128" border="0" /> + +<span class="left"><a name="412">412</a></span> +and could follow fast a very slight track, but Yan continued +the best, for what he lacked in eyesight he +more than made up in patience and observation. +He already had a <i>grand coup</i> for finding and shooting +the Deer in the heart, that time, at first shot before +the others came up even, and had won six other +<i>grand coups</i>—one for swimming 200 yards in five +minutes, one for walking four measured miles in one +hour, one for running 100 yards in twelve seconds, +one for knowing 100 wild plants, one for knowing 100 +birds, and the one for shooting the Horned Owl.</p> +<p> +Guy had several good <i>coups</i>, chiefly for eyesight. +He could see "the papoose on the squaws back," +and in the Deer hunt he had several times won <i>coups</i> +that came near being called <i>grand coup</i>, but so far +fate was against him, and even old Caleb, who was +partial to him, could not fairly vote him a <i>grand +coup</i>.</p> +<p> +"What is it that the Injuns most likes in a man: I +mean, what would they druther have, Caleb?" asked +Sappy one day, confidently expecting to have his +keen eyesight praised.</p> +<p> +"Bravery," was the reply. "They don't care +what a man is if he's brave. That's their greatest +thing—that is, if the feller has the stuff to back it up. +An' it ain't confined to Injuns; I tell you there ain't +anything that anybody goes on so much. Some men +pretends to think one thing the best of all, an' some +another, but come right down to it, what every man, +woman an' child in the country loves an' worships +is pluck, clear grit, well backed up."</p> +<p class="indent2"> +<img src="images/sketch219.gif" width="173" height="189" alt="four grand coup feathers" border="0" /> +<img src="images/sketch220.gif" width="138" height="187" alt="three grand coup feathers" border="0" /></p> + + + +<span class="left"><a name="413">413</a></span> + + +<p> +"<i>Well, I tell you</i>," said Guy, boiling up with +enthusiasm at this glorification of grit, "<i>I</i> ain't +scared o' nothin'."</p> +<p> +"Wall, how'd you like to fight Yan there?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, that ain't fair. He's older an' bigger'n +I am."</p> +<p> +"Say, Sappy, I'll give you one. Suppose you go +to the orchard alone an' get a pail of cherries. All +the men'll be away at nine o'clock."</p> +<p> +"Yes, and have old Cap chaw me up."</p> +<p> +"Thought you weren't scared of anything, an' a +poor little Dog smaller than a yearling Heifer scares +you."</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't like cherries, anyhow."</p> +<p> +"Here, now, Guy, I'll give you a real test. You +see that stone?" and Caleb held up a small round +stone with a hole in it. "Now, you know where old +Garney is buried?"</p> +<p> +Garney was a dissolute soldier who blew his +head off, accidentally, his friends claimed, and he +was buried on what was supposed to be his own land +just north of Raften's, but it afterward proved to be +part of the highway where a sidepath joined in, and +in spite of its diggers the grave was at the <i>crossing +of two roads</i>. Thus by the hand of fate Bill Garney +was stamped as a suicide. +<img src="images/sketch221.gif" alt="suicide at crossroads" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="224" height="116" border="0" /></p> +<p> +The legend was that every time a wagon went over +his head he must groan, but unwilling to waste those +<span class="left"><a name="414">414</a></span> +outcries during the rumbling of the wheels, he waited +till midnight and rolled them out all together. Anyone +hearing should make a sympathetic reply or +they would surely suffer some dreadful fate. This +was the legend that Caleb called up to memory and +made very impressive by being properly impressed +himself.</p> +<p> +"Now," said he, "I am going to hide this stone +just behind the rock that marks the head of Garney's +grave, an' I'll send you to git it some night. Air ye +game?"</p> +<p> +"Y-e-s, I'll go," said the Third War Chief without +visible enthusiasm.</p> +<p> +"If he's so keen for it now, there'll be no holding +him back when night comes," remarked the Woodpecker.</p> +<img src="images/sketch222a.gif" width="180" height="198" alt="stone on cord" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p> +"Remember, now," said Caleb, as he left them to +return to his own miserable shanty, "this is the chance +to show what you're made of. I'll tie a cord to the +stone to make sure that you get it."</p> +<p> +"We're just going to eat. Won't you stay and +jine with us," called Sam, but Caleb strode off without +taking notice of the invitation.</p> +<p> +In the middle of the night the boys were aroused +by a man's voice outside and the scratching of a stick +on the canvas.</p> +<p> +"Boys! Guy—Yan! Oh, Guy!"</p> +<p> +"Hello! Who is it?"</p> +<p> +"Caleb Clark! Say, Guy, it's about half-past eleven +now. You have just about time to go to Garney's +grave by midnight an' get that stone, and if you +<span class="left"><a name="415">415</a></span> +can't find the exact spot <i>you listen for the groaning +</i>—<i>that'll guide you</i>."</p> +<p> +This cheerful information was given in a hoarse +whisper that somehow conveyed the idea that the +old man was as scared as he could be.</p> +<p> +"I—I—I—" stammered Guy, "I can't see the +way."</p> +<p> +"This is the chance of your life, boy. You get +that stone and you'll get a <i>grand coup</i> feather, top +honours fur grit. I'll wait here till you come back."</p> +<p> +"I—I—can't find the blamed old thing on such a +dark night. I—I—ain't goin'."</p> +<p> +"Errr—you're scared," whispered Caleb.</p> +<p> +"I ain't scared, on'y what's the use of goin' +when I couldn't find the place? I'll go when it's +moonlight."</p> +<p> +"Err—anybody here brave enough to go after +that stone?"</p> +<p> +"I'll go," said the other two at the same time, +though with a certain air of "But I hope I don't +have to, all the same."</p> +<p> +"You kin have the honour, Yan," said the Woodpecker, +with evident relief.</p> +<p> +"Of course, I'd like the chance—but—but—I don't +want to push ahead of you—you're the oldest; that +wouldn't be square," was the reply.</p> +<p> +"Guess we'd better draw straws for it."</p> +<p> +So Sam sought a long straw while Yan stirred up +the coals to a blaze. The long straw was broken +in two unequal pieces and hidden in Sam's hand. +<span class="left"><a name="416">416</a></span> +Then after shuffling he held it toward Yan, showing +only the two tips, and said, "Longest straw takes +the job." Yan knew from old experience that a +common trick was to let the shortest straw stick out +farthest, so he took the other, drew it slowly out and +out—it seemed endless. Sam opened his hand and +showed that the short straw remained, then added +with evident relief: "You got it. You are the luckiest +feller I ever did see. Everything comes your way."</p> +<p> +If there had been any loophole Yan would have +taken it, but it was now clearly his duty to go for +that stone. It was pride rather than courage that +carried him through. He dressed quietly and nervously; +his hands trembled a little as he laced his +shoes. Caleb waited outside when he heard that +it was Yan who was going. He braced him up by +telling him: "You're the stuff. I jest love to see grit. +I'll go with you to the edge of the woods—'twouldn't +be fair to go farther—and wait there till you come +back. It's easy to find. Go four panels of fence +past the little Elm, then right across on the other side +of the road is the big stone. Well, on the side next +the north fence you'll find the ring pebble. The +coord is lying kind o' cross the big white stone, so +you'll find it easy; and here, take this chalk; if your +grit gives out, you mark on the fence how far you +did get, but don't you worry about that groaning—it's +nothing but a yarn—don't be scairt."</p> +<p> +"I am afraid I am scared, but still I'll go."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="417">417</a></span> +"That's right," said the Trapper with emphasis. +"Bravery ain't so much not being scairt as going +ahead when you are scairt, showing that you kin +boss your fears."</p> +<p> +So they talked till they struck out of the gloom +of the trees to the comparative light of the open +field.</p> +<p> +"It's just fifteen minutes to midnight," said +Caleb, looking at his watch with the light of a match, +"You'll make it easy. I'll wait here."</p> +<p> +Then Yan went on alone.</p> +<p> +It was a somber night, but he felt his way along +the field fence to the line fence and climbed that into +the road that was visible as a less intense darkness +on the black darkness of the grass. Yan walked +on up the middle cautiously. His heart beat violently +and his hands were cold. It was a still night, and +once or twice little mousey sounds in the fence corner +made him start, but he pushed on. Suddenly in the +blackness to the right of the road he heard a loud +"whisk," then he caught sight of a white thing that +chilled his blood. It was the shape of a man wrapped +in white, but lacked a head, just as the story had it. +Yan stood frozen to the ground. Then his intellect +came to the rescue of his trembling body. "What +nonsense! It must be a white stone." But no, it +moved. Yan had a big stick in his hand. He +shouted: "Sh, sh, sh!" Again the "corpse" moved. +Yan groped on the road for some stones and sent +one straight at the "white thing." <br /> +<img src="images/sketch223.gif" alt="the white thing" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="147" height="137" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="418">418</a></span> +He heard a +"whooff" and a rush. The "white thing" sprang up +and ran past him with a clatter that told him he had +been scared by Granny de Neuville's white-faced cow. +At first the reaction made him weak at the knees, +but that gave way to a better feeling. If a harmless +old Cow could lie out there all night, why should he +fear? He went on more quietly till he neared the +rise in the road. He should soon see the little Elm. +He kept to the left of the highway and peered into +the gloom, going more slowly. He was not so near +as he had supposed, and the tension of the early part +of the expedition was coming back more than ever. +He wondered if he had not passed the Elm—should he +go back? But no, he could not bear the idea; that +would mean retreat. Anyhow, he would put his chalk +mark here to show how far he did get. He sneaked +cautiously toward the fence to make it, then to his +relief made out the Elm not twenty-five feet away. + +Once at the tree, he counted off the four panels westward +and knew that he was opposite the grave of the +suicide. It must now be nearly midnight. He +thought he heard sounds not far away, and there +across the road he saw a whitish thing—the headstone. +He was greatly agitated as he crawled quietly +as possible toward it. Why quietly he did not know. +He stumbled through the mud of the shallow ditch +at each side, reached the white stone, and groped +with clammy, cold hands over the surface for the +string. If Caleb had put it there it was gone now. +So he took his chalk and wrote on the stone "Yan."</p> +<img src="images/sketch224.gif" width="198" height="130" alt="So he took his chalk and wrote on the stone 'Yan.'" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="419">419</a></span> +Oh, what a scraping that chalk made! He searched +about with his fingers around the big boulder. Yes, +there it was; the wind, no doubt, had blown it off. +He pulled it toward him. The pebble was drawn +across the boulder with another and louder rasping +that sounded fearfully in the night. Then at once +a gasp, a scuffle, a rush, a splash of something in mud, +or water—horrible sounds of a being choking, strangling +or trying to speak. For a moment Yan sank +down in terror. His lips refused to move. But the +remembrance of the cow came to help him. He +got up and ran down the road as fast as he could go, +a cold sweat on him. He ran so blindly he almost +ran into a man who shouted "Ho, Yan; is that you?" +It was Caleb coming to meet him. Yan could not +speak. He was trembling so violently that he had +to cling to the Trapper's arm.</p> +<p> +"What was it, boy? I heard it, but what was it?"</p> +<p> +"I—I—don't know," he gasped; "only it was at +the g-g-grave."</p> +<p> +"Gosh! I heard it, all right," and Caleb showed +no little uneasiness, but added, "We'll be back in +camp in ten minutes."</p> +<p> +He took Yan's trembling hand and led him for a +little while, but he was all right when he came to the +blazed trail. Caleb stepped ahead, groping in the +darkness.</p> +<p> +Yan now found voice to say, "I got the stone all +right, and I wrote my name on the grave, too."</p> +<p> +"Good boy! You're the stuff!" was the admiring +response.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="420">420</a></span> +They were very glad to see that there was a fire in +the teepee when they drew near. At the edge of +the clearing they gave a loud "<i>O-hoo</i>—<i>O-hoo</i>— +O-hoo-oo," the Owl cry that they had adopted because +it is commonly used by the Indians as a night +signal, and they got the same in reply from within.</p> +<p> +"All right," shouted Caleb; "he done it, an' he's +bully good stuff and gets an uncommon <i>grand +coup</i>."</p> +<p> +"Wish I had gone now," said Guy. "I could 'a' +done it just as well as Yan."</p> +<p> +"Well, go on now."</p> +<p> +"Oh, there ain't any stone to get now for proof."</p> +<p> +"You can write your name on the grave, as I did."</p> +<p> +"Ah, that wouldn't prove nothin'," and Guy +dropped the subject.</p> +<p> +Yan did not mean to tell his adventure that night, +but his excitement was evident, and they soon got +it out of him in full. They were a weird-looking +crowd as they sat around the flickering fire, experiencing +as he told it no small measure of the scare +he had just been through.</p> +<p> +When he had finished Yan said, "Now, Guy, don't +you want to go and try it?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, quit," said Guy; "I never saw such a feller +as you for yammering away on the same subjek."</p> +<p> +Caleb looked at his watch now, as though about to +leave, when Yan said:</p> +<p> +"Say, Mr. Clark, won't you sleep here? There's +lots o' room in Guy's bed."</p> +<p> +"Don't mind if I do, seem' it's late."</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="421">421</a></span> +<img src="images/sketch225.gif" alt="'Yan'" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="155" height="175" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<h3><a name="3XX">XX</a></h3> +<h3>The White Revolver</h3> + +<p> +In the morning Caleb had the satisfaction of +eating a breakfast prepared by the son of his +enemy, for Sam was cook that day.</p> +<p> +The Great Woodpecker expressed the thought of +the whole assembly when after breakfast he said: +"Now I want to go and see that grave. I believe +Yan wrote his name on some old cow that was +lying down and she didn't like it and said so out +loud!"</p> +<p> +They arrived at the spot in a few minutes. Yes, +there it was plainly written on the rude gravestone, +rather shaky, but perfectly legible—"Yan."</p> +<p> +"Pretty poor writing," was Guy's remark.</p> +<p> +"Well, you sure done it! Good boy!" said Sam +warmly. "Don't believe I'd 'a' had the grit."</p> +<p> +"Bet I would," said Guy.</p> +<p> +"Here's where I crossed the ditch. See my trail +in the mud? Out there is where I heard the yelling. +Let's see if ghosts make tracks. Hallo, what the—"</p> +<p> +There were the tracks in the mud of a big man. +He had sprawled, falling on his hands and knees. +Here was the print of his hands several times, and +in the mud, half hidden, something shining—Guy +saw it first and picked it up. It was a white-handled +Colt's revolver.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="422">422</a></span> +"Let's see that," said Caleb. He wiped off the +mud. His eye kindled. "That's my revolver that +was stole from me 'way back, time I lost my clothes +and money." He looked it over and, glancing about, +seemed lost in thought. "This beats me!" He shook +his head and muttered from time to time, "This +beats me!" There seemed nothing more of interest +to see, so the boys turned homeward.</p> +<p> +On the way back Caleb was evidently thinking +hard. He walked in silence till they got opposite +Granny de Neuville's shanty, which was the nearest +one to the grave. At the gate he turned and said: +"Guess I'm going in here. Say, Yan, you didn't +do any of that hollering last night, did you?"</p> +<p> +"No, sir; not a word. The only sound I made +was dragging the ring-stone over the boulder."</p> +<p> +"Well, I'll see you at camp," he said, and turned +in to Granny's.</p> +<p> +"The tap o' the marnin' to ye, an' may yer sowl +rest in pace," was the cheery old woman's greeting. +"Come in—come in, Caleb, an' set down. An' how +is Saryann an' Dick?"</p> +<p> +"They seem happy an' prosperin'," said the old +man with bitterness. "Say, Granny, did you ever +hear the story about Garney's grave out there on +the road?"</p> +<p> +"For the love av goodness, an' how is it yer after +askin' me that now? Sure an' I heard the story +many a time, an' I'm after hearin' the ghost last +night, an' it's a-shiverin' yit Oi am."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="423">423</a></span> +"What did you hear, Granny?"</p> +<p> +"Och, an' it was the most divilish yells iver let +out av a soul in hell. Shure the Dog and the Cat +both av thim was scairt, and the owld white-faced +cow come a-runnin' an' jumped the bars to get aff +av the road."</p> +<p> +Here was what Caleb wanted, and he kept her going +by his evident interest. After she tired of providing +more realistic details of the night's uproar, Caleb +deliberately tapped another vintage of tittle-tattle in +hope of further information leaking out.</p> +<p> +"Granny, did you hear of a robbery last week +down this side of Downey's Dump?"</p> +<p> +"Shure an' I did not," she exclaimed, her eyes +ablaze with interest—neither had Caleb, for that +matter; but he wanted to start the subject—"An" +who was it was robbed?"</p> +<p> +"Don't know, unless it was John Evans's place."</p> +<p> +"Shure an' I don't know him, but I warrant he +could sthand to lose. Shure an' it's when the raskils +come after me an' Cal Conner the moment it was +talked around that we had sold our Cow; then sez I, +it's gittin' onraisonable, an' them divils shorely +seems to know whin a wad o' money passes."</p> +<p> +"That's the gospel truth. But when wuz you +robbed, Granny?"</p> +<p> +"Robbed? I didn't say I wuz robbed," and +she cackled. "But the robbers had the best av +intintions when they came to me," and she related +at length her experience with the two who broke in +when her Cow was reported sold. She laughed over +<span class="left"><a name="424">424</a></span> +their enjoyment of the Lung Balm, and briefly told +how the big man was sulky and the short, broad +one was funny. Their black beards, the "big wan" +with his wounded head, his left-handedness and his +accidental exposure of the three fingers of the right +hand, all were fully talked over.</p> +<p> +"When was it, Granny?"</p> +<p> +"Och, shure an' it wuz about three years apast."</p> +<p> +Then after having had his lungs treated, old Caleb +left Granny and set out to do some very hard thinking.</p> +<p> +There had been robberies all around for the last +four years; There was no clue but this: They +were all of the same character; nothing but cash +was taken, and the burglars seemed to have inside +knowledge of the neighbourhood, and timed all their +visits to happen just after the householder had come +into possession of a roll of bills.</p> +<p> +As soon as Caleb turned in at the de Neuville +gate, Yan, acting on a belated thought, said:</p> +<p> +"Boys, you go on to camp; I'll be after you in +five minutes." He wanted to draw those tracks in +the mud and try to trail that man, so went back to +the grave.</p> +<p> +He studied the marks most carefully and by opening +out the book he was able to draw the boot tracks +life-size, noting that each had three rows of small +<img src="images/425.gif" width="130" height="148" alt="three-finger handprint" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +hobnails on the heel, apparently put in at home +because so irregular, while the sole of the left was +worn into a hole. Then he studied the hand tracks, +selected the clearest, and was drawing the right +<span class="left"><a name="425">425</a></span> +hand when something odd caught his attention.</p> +<p> +Yes! It appeared in all the impressions of that +hand—the middle finger was gone.</p> +<p> +Yan followed the track on the road a little way, +but at the corner it turned southward and was lost +in the grass.</p> +<p> +As he was going back to camp he overtook Caleb +also returning.</p> +<p> +"Mr. Clark," he said. "I went back to sketch +those tracks, and do you know—that man had only +three fingers on his right hand?"</p> +<p> +"Consarn me!" said Caleb. "Are you sure?"</p> +<p> +"Come and see for yourself."</p> +<p> +Yes! It surely was true, and Caleb on the road +back said, "Yan, don't say a word of this to the others +just now."</p> +<p> +The old Trapper went to the Pogue house at once. +He found the tracks repeated in the dust near the +door, but they certainly were not made by Dick. +On a line was a pair of muddy trousers drying.</p> +<p> +From this night Yan went up and Guy went down +in the old man's opinion, for he spoke his own mind +that day when he gave first place to grit. He +invited Yan to come to his shanty to see a pair of +snow-shoes he was making. The invitation was vague +and general, so the whole Tribe accepted. Yan had +not been there since his first visit. The first part +of their call was as before. In answer to their +knock there was a loud baying from the Hound, +then a voice ordering him back. Caleb opened the +<span class="left"><a name="426">426</a></span> +door, but now said "Step in." If he was displeased +with the others coming he kept it to himself. While +Yan was looking at the snow-shoes Guy discovered +something much more interesting on the old man's +bunk; that was the white revolver, now cleaned up +and in perfect order. Caleb's delight at its recovery, +though not very apparent, was boundless. He had +not been able to buy himself another, and this was +as warmly welcomed back as though a long-lost +only child.</p> +<p> +"Say, Caleb, let's try a shot. I bet I kin beat the +hull gang," exclaimed Sapwood.</p> +<p> +Caleb got some cartridges and pointed to a white +blaze on a stump forty yards away. Guy had three +or four shots and Yan had the same without hitting +the stump. Then Caleb said, "Lemme show you."</p> +<p> +His big rugged hand seemed to swallow up the +little gun-stock. His long knobbed finger fitted +around the lock in a strange but familiar way. Caleb +was a bent-arm shot, and the short barrel looked like +his own forefinger pointing at the target as he pumped +away six times in quick succession. All went into +the blaze and two into the charcoal spot that marked +the centre.</p> +<p> +"By George! Look at that for shooting!" and the +boys were loud in their praise.</p> +<p> +"Well, twenty year ago I used to be a pretty good +shot," Caleb proceeded to explain with an air of +unnecessary humility and a very genial expression +on his face. "But that's dead easy. I'll show you +<span class="left"><a name="427">427</a></span> +some real tricks."</p> +<p> +Twenty-five feet away he set up three cartridges in +a row, their caps toward him, and exploded them in +succession with three rapid shots. Then he put the +revolver in the side pocket of his coat, and recklessly +firing it without drawing, much less sighting or even +showing it, he peppered a white blaze at twenty +yards. Finally he looked around for an old fruit +tin. Then he cocked the revolver, laid it across his +right hand next the thumb and the tin across the +fingers. He then threw them both in the air with a +jerk that sent the revolver up ten feet and the tin +twenty. As the revolver came down he seized it and +shot a hole through the tin before it could reach the +ground.</p> +<p> +The boys were simply dumbfounded. They had +used up all their exclamations on the first simple +target trial.</p> +<p> +Caleb stepped into the shanty to get a cleaning-rag +for his darling, and Sam burst out:</p> +<p> +"Well, now I know he never shot at Da, for if he +did he'd 'a' got him sure."</p> +<p> +It was not meant for Caleb's ears, but it reached +him, and the old Trapper came to the door at once +with a long, expressive "H-m-m-mrr."</p> +<p> +Thus was broken the dam of silent scorn, for it +was the first time Caleb had addressed himself to +Sam. The flood had forced the barrier, but it still +left plenty of stuff in the channel to be washed away +by time and wear, and it was long before he talked +<span class="left"><a name="428">428</a></span> +to Sam as freely as to the others, but still in time +he learned.</p> +<p> +There was an air of geniality on all now, and Yan +took advantage of this to ask for something he had +long kept in mind.</p> +<p> +"Mr. Clark, will you take us out for a Coon hunt? +We know where there are lots of Coons that feed in +a corn patch up the creek."</p> +<p> +If Yan had asked this a month ago he would have +got a contemptuous refusal. Before the visit to +Carney's grave it might have been, "Oh, I dunno—I +ain't got time," but he was on the right side of +Caleb now, and the answer was:</p> +<p> +"Well, yes! Don't mind if I do, first night it's +coolish, so the Dog kin run."</p> + +<img src="images/sketch226.gif" width="206" height="269" alt="Raccoon" border="0" /> + +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="429">429</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXI">XXI</a></h3> +<h3>The Triumph Of Guy</h3> + +<p> +The boys had hunted the Woodchuck quite +regularly since first meeting it. Their programme +<img src="images/sketch227.gif" width="116" height="161" alt="Woodchuck hidden in the clover" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +was much the same—each morning +about nine or ten they would sneak out to the clover +field. It was usually Guy who first discovered the +old Grizzly, then all would fire a harmless shot, the +Woodchuck would scramble into his den and the incident +be closed for the day. This became as much a +part of the day's routine as getting breakfast, and +much more so than the washing of the dishes. Once +or twice the old Grizzly had narrow escapes, but so far +he was none the worse, rather the better, being wiser. +The boys, on the other hand, gained nothing, with the +possible exception of Guy. Always quick-sighted, +his little washed-out optics developed a marvellous +keenness. At first it was as often Yan or Sam who +saw the old Grizzly, but later it was always Guy.</p> +<p> +One morning Sam approached the game from one +point, Guy and Yan from another some yards away. +"No Woodchuck!" was the first opinion, but suddenly +Guy called "I see him." There in a little hollow +<img src="images/sketch228.gif" width="59" height="370" alt="'scalp'" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +fully sixty yards from his den, and nearly a hundred +from the boys, concealed in a bunch of clover, Guy +saw a patch of gray fur hardly two inches square. +"That's him, sure."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="430">430</a></span> +Yan could not see it at all. Sam saw but doubted. +An instant later the Woodchuck (for it was he) stood +up on his hind legs, raised his chestnut breast above +the clover, and settled all doubt.</p> +<p> +"By George!" exclaimed Yan in admiration. +"<i>That is great</i>. You have the most wonderful eyes +I ever did see. Your name ought to be 'Hawkeye'—that +should be your name."</p> +<p> +"All right," shrilled out Guy enthusiastically. +"Will you—will you, Sam, will you call me Hawkeye? +I think you ought to," he added pleadingly.</p> +<p> +"I think so, Sam," said the Second Chief. "He's +turned out great stuff, an' it's regular Injun."</p> +<p> +"We'll have to call a Council and settle that. Now +let's to business."</p> +<p> +"Say, Sapwood, you're so smart, couldn't you go +round through the woods to your side and crawl +through the clover so as get between the old Grizzly +and his den?" suggested the Head Chief.</p> +<p> +"I bet I can, an' I'll bet a dollar—"</p> +<p> +"Here, now," said Yan, "Injuns don't have dollars."</p> +<p> +"Well, I'll bet my scalp—my black scalp, I +mean—against Sam's that I kill the old Grizzly first."</p> +<p> +"Oh, let me do it first—you do it second," said +Sam imploringly.</p> +<p> +"Errr—yer scared of yer scalp."</p> +<p> +"I'll go you," said Sam.</p> +<p> +Each of the boys had a piece of black horsehair +that he called his scalp. It was tied with a string to +the top of his head—and this was what Guy wished +<span class="left"><a name="431">431</a></span> + +to wager.</p> +<p> +Yan now interfered: "Quit your squabbling, you +Great War Chiefs, an' 'tend to business. If Woodpecker +kills old Grizzly he takes Sapwood's scalp; +if Sappy kills him he takes the Woodpecker's scalp, +an' the winner gets a grand feather, too."</p> +<p> +Sam and Yan waited impatiently in the woods while +Guy sneaked around. The Woodchuck seemed +unusually bold this day. He wandered far from his +den and got out of sight in hollows at times. The +boys saw Guy crawl through the fence, though the +Woodchuck did not. The fact was, that he had +always had the enemy approach him from the other +side, and was not watching eastward.</p> +<p> +Guy, flat on his breast, worked his way through +the clover. He crawled about thirty yards and now +was between the Woodchuck and his den. Still +old Grizzly kept on stuffing himself with clover and +watching toward the Raften woods. The boys +became intensely excited. Guy could see them, but +not the Woodchuck. They pointed and gesticulated. +Guy thought that meant "Now shoot." He got +up cautiously. The Woodchuck saw him and +bounded straight for its den—that is, toward Guy. +Guy fired wildly. The arrow went ten feet over +the Grizzly's head, and, that "huge, shaking +mass of fur" bounding straight at him, struck +terror to his soul. He backed up hastily, not +knowing where to run. He was close to the den.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="432">432</a></span> +The Woodchuck chattered his teeth and plunged +to get by the boy, each as scared as could be. Guy +gave a leap of terror and fell heavily just as the Woodchuck +would have passed under him and home. But +the boy weighed nearly 100 pounds, and all that +weight came with crushing force on old Grizzly, +knocking the breath out of his body. Guy scrambled +to his feet to run for his life, but he saw the Woodchuck +lying squirming, and plucked up courage +enough to give him a couple of kicks on the nose that +settled him. A loud yell from the other two boys +<img src="images/sketch229.gif" width="139" height="170" alt="Guy and the Woodchuck" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +was the first thing that assured Guy of his victory. +They came running over and found him standing like +the hunter in an amateur photograph, holding his +bow in one hand and the big Woodchuck by the tail +in the other.</p> +<p> +"Now, I guess you fellers will come to me to larn +you how to kill Woodchucks. Ain't he an old +socker? I bet he weighs fifty pounds—yes, near +sixty." (It weighed about ten pounds.)</p> +<p> +"Good boy! Bully boy! Hooray for the Third +War Chief! Hooray for Chief Sapwood!" and Guy +had no cause to complain of lack of appreciation on the +part of the others.</p> +<p> +He swelled out his chest and looked proud and +haughty. "Wished I knew where there was some +more Woodchucks," he said. "<i>I</i> know how to get +them, if the rest don't."</p> +<p> +"Well, that should count for a <i>grand coup</i>, +Sappy."</p> +<span class="left"><a name="433">433</a></span><br /> +<p class="center"><img src="images/illus19a.jpg" width="640" height="446" alt="Guy gave a leap of terror and fell" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="435">435</a></span> +"You tole me you wuz goin' to call me 'Hawkeye' +after this morning."</p> +<p> +"We'll have to have a Grand Council to fix that +up," replied the Head Chief.</p> +<p> +"All right; let's have it this afternoon, will you?"</p> +<p> +"All right."</p> +<p> +"'Bout four o'clock?"</p> +<p> +"Why, yes; any time."</p> +<p> +"And you'll fix me up as 'Hawkeye,' and give me +a dandy Eagle feather for killing the Woodchuck, +at four o'clock?"</p> +<p> +"Yes, sure, only, why do you want it at four +o'clock?"</p> +<p> +But Guy seemed not to hear, and right away after +dinner he disappeared.</p> +<p> +"He's dodging the dishwashing again," suggested +the Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +"No, he isn't," said the Second Chief. "I believe +he's going to bring his folks to see him in his triumph."</p> +<p> +"That's so. Let's chip right in and make it an +everlasting old blowout—kind of a new date in history. +You'll hear me lie like sixty to help him out."</p> +<p> +"Good enough. I'm with you. You go and get +your folks. I'll go after old Caleb, and we'll fix it up +to call him 'Hawkeye' and give him his <i>grand coup</i> +feather all at once."</p> +<p> +"'Feard my folks and Caleb wouldn't mix," +replied Sam, "but I believe for a splurge like this +Guy'd ruther have my folks. You see, Da has the +mortgage on their place."</p><br /> + + +<p><span class="left"><a name="436">436</a></span> +So it was agreed Sam was to go for his mother, +while Yan was to prepare the Eagle feather and +skin the Woodchuck.</p> +<img src="images/sketch232.gif" width="136" height="69" alt="Guy's claw necklace" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p> +It was not "as big as a bear," but it was a very +large Woodchuck, and Yan was as much elated +over the victory as any of them. He still had an +hour or more before four o'clock, and eager to make +Guy's triumph as Indian as possible, he cut off all +the Woodchuck's claws, then strung them on a string, +with a peeled and pithed Elder twig an inch long +between each two. Some of the claws were very, +very small, but the intention was there to make a +Grizzly-claw necklace.</p> +<p> +Guy made for home as fast as he could go. His +father hailed him as he neared the garden and evidently +had plans of servitude, but Guy darted into +the dining-room-living-room-bedroom-kitchen-room, +which constituted nine-tenths of the house.</p> +<p> +"Oh, Maw, you just ought to seen me; you just +want to come this afternoon—I'm the Jim Dandy +of the hull Tribe, an they're going to make me Head +Chief. I killed that whaling old Woodchuck that +pooty nigh killed Paw. They couldn't do a thing +without me—them fellers in camp. They tried an' +tried more'n a thousand times to get that old +Woodchuck—yes, I bet they tried a million times, +an' I just waited till they was tired and give up, +then I says, 'Now, I'll show you how.' First I +had to point him out. Them fellers is no good +to see things. Then I says, 'Now, Sam and Yan, +you fellers stay here, an' just to show how easy +<span class="left"><a name="437">437</a></span> +it is when you know how, I'll leave all my bosenarrers +behind an' go with nothing.' Wall, there +they stood an' watched me, an' I s-n-e-a-k-e-d round +the fence an' c-r-a-w-l-e-d in the clover just like an +Injun till I got between him an' his hole, and then +I hollers and he come a-snortin' an' a-chatterin' his +teeth at me to chaw me up, for he seen I had no stick +nor nothin', an' I never turned a hair; I kep' cool an' +waited till jest as he was going to jump for my throat, +then I turned and gave him one kick on the snoot that +sent him fifty feet in the air, an' when he come down +he was deader'n Kilsey's hen when she was stuffed +with onions. Oh, Maw, I'm just the bully boy; they +can't do nothin' in camp 'thout me. I had to larn +'em to hunt Deer an' see things—an'—an'—an'—lots +o' things, so they are goin' to make me Head +Chief of the hull Tribe, an' call me 'Hawkeye,' too; +that's the way the Injuns does. It's to be at four +o'clock this afternoon, an' you got to come."</p> +<p> +Burns scoffed at the whole thing and told Guy to +get to work at the potatoes, and if he left down the +bars so that the Pig got out he'd skin him alive; he +would have no such fooling round his place. But +Mrs. Burns calmly informed him that <i>she</i> was going. +It was to her much like going to see a university +degree conferred on her boy.</p> +<p> +Since Burns would not assist, the difficulty of the +children now arose. This, however, was soon settled. +They should go along. It was two hours' toil for +the mother to turn the four brown-limbed, nearly +<span class="left"><a name="438">438</a></span> +naked, dirty, happy towsle-tops into four little +martyrs, befrocked, beribboned, becombed and be-booted. +Then they all straggled across the field, +Mrs. Burns carrying the baby in one arm and a pot of +jam in the other. Guy ran ahead to show the way, +and four-year-old, three-year-old and two-year-old, +hand in hand, formed a diagonal line in the wake of +the mother.</p> +<p> +They were just a little surprised on getting to camp +to find Mrs. Raften and Minnie there in holiday +clothes. Marget's first feeling was resentment, but +her second thought was a pleasant one. That "stuck-up" +woman, the enemy's wife, should see her boy's +triumph, and Mrs. Burns at once seized on the chance +to play society cat.</p> +<p> +"How do ye do, Mrs. Raften; hope you're well," +she said with a tinge of malicious pleasure and a +grand attempt at assuming the leadership.</p> +<p> +"Quite well, thank you. We came down to see +how the boys were getting on in camp."</p> +<p> +"They've got on very nicely <i>sense my boy j'ined +them</i>," retorted Mrs. Burns, still fencing.</p> +<p> +"So I understand; the other two have become +very fond of him," returned Mrs. Raften, seeking +to disarm her enemy.</p> +<p> +This speech had its effect. Mrs. Burns aimed only +to forestall the foe, but finding to her surprise that +the enemy's wife was quite gentle, a truce was made, +and by the time Mrs. Raften had petted and praised +the four tow-tops and lauded Guy to the utmost +<span class="left"><a name="439">439</a></span> +the air of latent battle was replaced by one of +cordiality.</p> +<p> +The boys now had everything ready for the grand +ceremony. On the Calfskin rug at one end was the +Council; Guy, seated on the skin of the Woodchuck +and nearly hiding it from view, Sam on his left hand and +Yan with the drum, on his right. In the middle the +Council fire blazed. To give air, the teepee cover +was raised on the shady side and the circle of visitors +was partly in the teepee and partly out.</p> +<p> +The Great War Chief first lighted the peace pipe, +puffed for a minute, then blew off the four smokes +to the four winds and handed it to the Second and +Third War Chiefs, who did the same.</p> +<p> +Little Beaver gave three thumps on the drum for +silence, and the Great Woodpecker rose up:</p> +<p> +"Big Chiefs, Little Chiefs, Braves, Warriors, Councillors, +Squaws, and Papooses of the Sanger Indians: +When our Tribe was at war with them—them—them—other +Injuns—them Birchbarks, we took prisoner +one of their warriors and tortured him to death two +or three times, and he showed such unusual stuff that +we took him into our Tribe—"</p> +<p> +Loud cries of "How—How—How," led by Yan.</p> +<img src="images/sketch233.gif" alt="Yan with drum" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="154" height="266" border="0" /> +<p> +"We gave a sun-dance for his benefit, but he didn't +brown—seemed too green—so we called him Sapwood. +From that time he has fought his way up from the +ranks and got to be Third War Chief—"</p> + +<p> +"How—How—How."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="440">440</a></span> +"The other day the hull Tribe j'ined to attack an' +capture a big Grizzly and was licked bad, when the +War Chief Sapwood came to the rescue an' settled +the owld baste with one kick on the snoot. Deeds +like this is touching. A feller that kin kick like that +didn't orter be called Sapwood nor Saphead nor +Sapanything. No, sirree! It ain't right. He's the +littlest Warrior among the War Chiefs, but he kin +see farder an' do it oftener an' better than his betters. +He kin see round a corner or through a tree. 'Cept +maybe at night, he's the swell seer of the outfit, an' +the Council has voted to call him 'Hawkeye.'"</p><br /> +<img src="images/sketch234.gif" width="151" height="63" alt="Guy's 'coup de grace'" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p> +"How—How—How—How—How—"</p> +<p class="indent"> +Here Little Beaver handed the Head War Chief +a flat white stick on which was written in large letters +"Sapwood."</p><br /> +<p><img src="images/sketch235.gif" width="59" height="256" alt="Guy's Grand coup feather" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +"Here's the name he went by before he was great +an' famous, an' this is the last of it." The Chief put +the stick in the fire, saying, "Now let us see if you're +too green to burn." Little Beaver then handed Woodpecker +a fine Eagle feather, red-tufted, and bearing +in outline a man with a Hawk's head and an arrow +from his eye. "This here's a swagger Eagle feather +for the brave deed he done, and tells about him being +Hawkeye, too" (the feather was stuck in Guy's hair +and the claw necklace put about his neck amid +loud cries of "How—How—" and thumps of the +drum), "and after this, any feller that calls him +Sapwood has to double up and give Hawkeye a +free kick."</p> +<img src="images/sketch236.gif" width="162" height="86" align="right" hspace="10" alt="any feller that calls him Sapwood has to double up and give Hawkeye a free kick" border="0" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="441">441</a></span> +There was a great chorus of "How—How." Guy +tried hard to look dignified and not grin, but it got +beyond him. He was smiling right across and half +way round. His mother beamed with pride till her +eyes got moist and overflowed.</p> +<p> +Every one thought the ceremony was over, but +Yan stood up and began: "There is something +that has been forgotten, Chiefs, Squaws and Pappooses +of the Sanger Nation: When we went out +after this Grizzly I was witness to a bargain between +two of the War Chiefs. According to a custom of +our Tribe, they bet their scalps, each that he would +be the one to kill the Grizzly. The Head Chief +Woodpecker was one and Hawkeye was the other. +Hawkeye, you can help yourself to Woodpecker's +scalp."</p> +<img src="images/sketch237.gif" width="167" height="139" alt="the end of'Sapwood'" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<p> +Sam had forgotten about this, but he bowed his +head. Guy cut the string, and holding up the scalp, +he uttered a loud, horrible war-whoop which every +one helped with some sort of noise. It was the +crowning event. Mrs. Burns actually wept for joy +to see her heroic boy properly recognized at last.</p> +<p> +Then she went over to Sam and said, "Did you +bring your folks here to see my boy get praised?"</p> +<p> +Sam nodded and twinkled an eye.</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't care who ye are, Raften or no +Raften, you got a good heart, an' it's in the right +place. I never did hold with them as says 'There +ain't no good in a Raften.' I always hold there's +some good in every human. I know your Paw <i>did</i> +buy the mortgage on our place, but I never did +<span class="left"><a name="442">442</a></span> +believe your Maw stole our Geese, <i>an' I never will</i>, +an' next time I hear them runnin' on the Raftens +I'll jest open out an' tell what I know."</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch238.gif" width="491" height="223" alt="The picture on the Teepee Lining, to record Guy's Exploit" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="443">443</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXII">XXII</a></h3> +<h3>The Coon Hunt</h3> + +<p> +Yan did not forget the proposed Coon hunt—in +fact, he was most impatient for it, and within +two days the boys came to Caleb about sundown +and reminded him of his promise. It was a sultry +night, but Yan was sure it was just right for a Coon +hunt, and his enthusiasm carried all before it. Caleb +was quietly amused at the "<i>cool night</i>" selected, but +reckoned it would be "better later."</p> +<p> +"Set down—set down, boys," he said, seeing them +standing ready for an immediate start. "There's +no hurry. Coons won't be running for three or four +hours after sundown."</p> +<p> +So he sat and smoked, while Sam vainly tried +to get acquainted with old Turk; Yan made notes +on some bird wings nailed to the wall, and Guy +got out the latest improved edition of his exploits +in Deer-hunting and Woodchuck killing, as well as +enlarged on his plans for gloriously routing any Coon +they might encounter.</p> +<p> +By insisting that it would take an hour to get +to the place, Yan got them started at nine o'clock, +Caleb, on a suggestion from Guy, carrying a small +axe. Keeping old Turk well in hand, they took the +highway, and for half an hour tramped on toward +the "Corners." Led by Sam, they climbed a fence +<span class="left"><a name="444">444</a></span> +crossed a potato field, and reached the corn patch +by the stream.</p> +<p> +"Go ahead, Turk. Sic him! Sic him! Sic him!" +and the company sat in a row on the fence to await +developments.</p> +<p> +Turk was somewhat of a character. He hunted +what he pleased and when he pleased. His master +could bring him on the Coon grounds, but he couldn't +make him hunt Coon nor anything else unless it +suited his own fancy. Caleb had warned the boys to +be still, and they sat along the fence in dead silence, +awaiting the summons from the old Hound. He +had gone off beating and sniffing among the cornstalks. +His steps sounded very loud and his sniffs +like puffs of steam. It was a time of tense attention; +but the Hound wandered, farther away, and even his +noisy steps were lost.</p> +<p> +They had sat for two long minutes, when a +low yelp from a distant part of the field, then a +loud "<i>bow-wow"</i> from the Hound, set Yan's heart +jumping.</p> +<p> +"Game afoot," said Sam in a low voice.</p> +<p> +"Bet I heered him first," piped Guy.</p> +<p> +Yan's first thought was to rush pell-mell after +the Dog. He had often read of the hunt following +furiously the baying of the Hounds, but Caleb +restrained him.</p> +<p> +"Hold on, boy; plenty of time. Don't know yet +what it is."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="445">445</a></span> +For Turk, like most frontier Hounds, would run +almost any trail—had even been accused of running +on his own—and it rested with those who knew him +best to discover from his peculiar style of tonguing +just what the game might be. But they waited +long and patiently without getting another bay +from the Hound. Presently a rustling was heard +and Turk came up to his master and lay down +at his feet.</p> +<p> +"Go ahead, Turk, put him up," but the Dog +stirred not. "Go ahead," and Caleb gave him a rap +with a small stick. The Dog dodged away, but +lay down again, panting.</p> +<p> +"What was it, Mr. Clark?" demanded Yan.</p> +<p> +"Don't hardly know. Maybe he only spiked +himself on a snag. But this is sure; there's no Coons +here to-night. There won't be after this. We come +too early, and it's too hot for the Dog, anyway."</p> +<p> +"We could cross the creek and go into Boyle's +bush," suggested the Woodpecker. "We're like +to strike anything there. Larry de Neuville swears +<img src="images/sketch239a.gif" width="138" height="268" alt="Larry de Neuville swears he saw a Unicorn" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +he saw a Unicorn there the night he came back +from Garney's wake."</p> +<p> +"How can you tell the kind of game by the Dog's +barking?" asked Yan.</p> +<p> +"H-m!" answered Caleb, as he put a fresh quid +in his lantern jaw. "You surely can if you know +the country an' the game an' the Dog. Course, no +two Dogs is alike; you got to study your Dog, an' +if he's good he'll larn you lots about trailing."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="446">446</a></span> +The brook was nearly dry now, so they crossed +where they would. Then feeling their way through +the dark woods with eyes for the most part closed, +they groped toward Boyle's open field, then across +it to the heavy timber. Turk had left them at the +brook, and, following its course till he came to a pool, +had had a bath. As they entered the timber +tract he joined them, dripping wet and ready for +business.</p> +<p> +"Go ahead, Turk," and again all sat down to +await the opinion of the expert.</p> +<p> +It came quickly. The old Hound, after circling +about in a way that seemed to prove him independent +of daylight, began to sniff loudly, and gave +a low whine. He followed a little farther, and now +his tail was heard to '<i>tap, tap, tap</i>' the brush as he +went through a dry thicket.</p> +<p> +"Hear that? He's got something this time," said +Caleb in a low voice. "Wait a little."</p> +<p> +The Hound was already working out a puzzle, +and when at last he got far enough to be sure, he +gave a short bark. There was another spell of +<img src="images/sketch240b.gif" width="180" height="240" alt="the Dog half-way in a hole under a stump" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +sniffing, then another bark, then several little barks +at intervals, and at last a short bay; then the baying +recommenced, but was irregular and not full-chested. +The sounds told that the Hound was running in a +circle about the forest, but at length ceased moving, +for all the barking was at one place. When the +hunters got there they found the Dog half-way in a +hole under a stump, barking and scratching.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="447">447</a></span> +"Humph," said Caleb; "nothing but a Cottontail. +Might 'a' knowed that by the light scent an' +the circling without treeing."</p> +<p> +So Turk was called off and the company groped +through the inky woods in quest of more adventures.</p> +<p> +"There's a kind of swampy pond down the lower +end of the bush—a likely place for Coons on a Frog-hunt," +suggested the Woodpecker.</p><br /> +<p> +So the Hound was again "turned on" near the +pond. The dry woods were poor for scent, but the +damp margin of the marsh proved good, and Turk +became keenly interested and very sniffy. A preliminary +"<i>Woof!</i>" was followed by one or two yelps +and then a full-chested "<i>Boooow!"</i> that left no doubt +he had struck a hot trail at last. Oh, what wonderfully +thrilling horn-blasts those were! Yan for the +first time realized the power of the "full cry," whose +praises are so often sung.</p> +<p> +The hunters sat down to await the result, for, as +Caleb pointed out, there was "no saying where the +critter might run."</p> +<p> +The Hound bayed his fullest, roundest notes at +quick intervals, but did not circle. The sound of +his voice told them that the chase was straight +away, out of the woods, easterly across an open field, +and at a hot pace, with regular, full bellowing, unbroken +by turn or doubt.</p> +<p> +"I believe he's after the old Callaghan Fox," said +the Trapper. "They've tried it together before now, +an' there ain't anything but a Fox will run so +straight and fetch such a tune out of Turk."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="448">448</a></span> +The baying finally was lost in the distance, probably +a mile away, but there was nothing for it but +to wait. If Turk had been a full-bred and trained +Foxhound he would have stuck to that trail all night, +but in half an hour he returned, puffing and hot, to +throw himself into the shallow pond.</p> +<p> +"Everything scared away now," remarked Caleb. +"We might try the other side of the pond." Once +or twice the dog became interested, but decided that +there was nothing in it, and returned to pant by his +master's feet.</p> +<p> +They had now travelled so far toward home that +a very short cut across fields would bring them into +their own woods. +<img src="images/sketch241a.gif" width="180" height="286" alt="The moon arose..." border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +</p> +<p> +The moon arose as they got there, and after their +long groping in the murky darkness this made the +night seem very bright and clear.</p> +<p> +They had crossed the brook below Granny de +Neuville's, and were following the old timber trail +that went near the stream, when Turk stopped to +sniff, ran back and forth two or three times, then +stirred the echoes with a full-toned bugle blast and +led toward the water.</p> +<p> +"<i>Bow—bow—bow—bow</i>," he bawled for forty +yards and came to a stop. The baying was exactly +the same that he gave on the Fox trail, but the +course of the animal was crooked, and now there +was a break.</p> +<p> +They could hear the dog beating about close at +hand and far away, but silent so far as tongue was +concerned.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="449">449</a></span> +"What is it, Caleb?" said Sam with calm assurance, +forgetting how recent was their acquaintance.</p> +<p> +"Dunno," was the short reply.</p> +<p> +"'Tisn't a Fox, is it?" asked Yan.</p> +<p> +But a sudden renewal of "<i>Bow—bow—bow—</i>" +from the Hound one hundred yards away, at the +fence, ended all discussion. The dog had the hot +trail again. The break had been along the line of a +fence that showed, as Caleb said, "It was a Coon, +'cept it might be some old house Cat maybe; them +was the only things that would run along top of a +fence in the night time."</p> +<p> +It was easy to follow now; the moonlight was good, +and the baying of the Hound was loud and regular. +It led right down the creek, crossing several pools +and swamps.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch242.gif" alt="The Hound was barking and leaping against a big Basswood" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="200" height="362" border="0" /> +"That settles it," remarked the Trapper decisively. +"Cats don't take to the water. That's a Coon," and +as they hurried they heard a sudden change in the +dog's note, no longer a deep rich '<i>B-o-o-w-w</i>.' It +became an outrageous clamour of mingled yelps, +growls and barks.</p> +<p> +"Ha—heh. That means he's right on it. That is +what he does when he <i>sees</i> the critter."</p> +<p> +But the "view halloo" was quickly dropped and +the tonguing of the dog was now in short, high-pitched +yelps <i>at one place</i>.</p> +<p> +"Jest so! He's treed! That's a Coon, all right!" +and Caleb led straight for the place.</p> +<p> +The Hound was barking and leaping against a +big Basswood, and Caleb's comment was: "Hm, +<span class="left"><a name="450">450</a></span> +never knowed a Coon to do any other way—always +gets up the highest and tarnalest tree to climb in the +hull bush. Now who's the best climber here?"</p> +<p> +"Yan is," volunteered Sam.</p> +<p> +"Kin ye do it, Yan?"</p> +<p> +"I'll try."</p> +<p> +"Guess we'll make a fire first and see if we can't +see him," said the Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +"If it was a Woodchuck I'd soon get him for you," +chimed in Hawkeye, but no one heeded.</p> +<p> +Sam and Yan gathered stuff and soon had a flood +of flickering red light on all the surrounding trees. +They scanned the big Basswood without getting +sight of their quarry. Caleb took a torch and +found on the bark some fresh mud. By going +back on the trail to where it had crossed the +brook they found the footprint—undoubtedly that +of a large Coon.</p> +<p> +"Reckon he's in some hollow; he's surely up that +tree, and Basswood's are always hollow."</p> +<p> +Yan now looked at the large trunk in doubt as to +whether he could manage it.</p> +<p> +Caleb remarked his perplexity and said: "Yes; +that's so. You ain't fifteen foot spread across the +wings, are you? But hold on—"</p> +<p> +He walked to a tall thin tree near at hand, cut +it through with the axe in a few minutes, and threw +it so as to rest against the lowest branch of the big +Basswood. Up this Yan easily swarmed, carrying +a stout Elm stick tied behind. When he got to the +<span class="left"><a name="451">451</a></span> +great Basswood he felt lost in the green mass, but +the boys below carried torches so as to shed light on +each part in turn. At first Yan found neither hole +in the trunk nor Coon, but after long search in the +upper branches he saw a great ball of fur on a high +crotch and in it two glowing eyes that gave him a +thrill. He yelled: "Here he is! Look out below." +He climbed up nearer and tried to push the Coon off, +but it braced itself firmly and defied him until he +climbed above it, when it leaped and scrambled to a +lower branch.</p> +<p> +Yan followed it, while his companions below got +greatly excited, as they could see nothing, and only +judged by the growling and snarling that Yan and +the Coon were fighting. After another passage at +<img src="images/sketch243.gif" alt="Yan's way up" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="210" height="357" border="0" /> +arms the Coon left the second crotch and scrambled +down the trunk till it reached the leaning sapling, +and there perched, glaring at the hunters below. +The old Hound raised a howl when he saw the +quarry, and Caleb, stepping to one side, drew his +revolver and fired. The Coon fell dead into their +midst. Turk sprang to do battle, but he was not +needed, and Caleb fondly and proudly wiped the old +white pistol as though it alone were to be thanked +for the clever shot.</p> +<p> +Yan came down quickly, though he found it harder +to get down than up. He hurried excitedly into the +ring and stroked the Coon with a mixture of feelings—admiring +its fur—sorry, after all, that it was +killed, and triumphant that he had led the way. +<span class="left"><a name="452">452</a></span> +<i>It was his Coon</i>, and all admitted that. Sam +"hefted" it by one leg and said, "Weighs thirty +pounds, I bet."</p> +<p> +Guy said: "Pooh! Tain't half as big as that +there big Woodchuck I killed, an' you never would +have got him if I hadn't thought of the axe."</p> +<p> +Yan thought it would weigh thirty-five pounds. +Caleb guessed it at twenty-five (and afterward they +found out that it barely weighed eighteen). While +they were thus talking the Dog broke into an angry +barking such as he gave for strangers—his "human +voice," Caleb called it—and at once there stepped +into the circle William Raften. He had seen the +lights in the woods, and, dreading a fire at this dry +season, had dressed and come out.</p> +<p> +"Hello, Da; why ain't you in bed, where you +ought to be?"</p> +<p> +Raften took no notice of his son, but said sneeringly +to Caleb: "Ye ain't out trying to get another shot at +me, air ye?" 'Tain't worth your while; I hain't got +no cash on me to-night." +<img src="images/sketch245a.gif" width="180" height="232" alt="Raften" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +</p> +<p> +"Now see here, Da," said Sam, interrupting before +Caleb could answer, "you don't play fair. I know, +an' you ought to know, that's all rot about Caleb +shooting at you. If he had, he'd 'a' got you sure. +I've seen him shoot."</p> +<p> +"Not when he was drunk."</p> +<p> +"Last time I was drunk we was in it together," +said Caleb fiercely, finding his voice.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="453">453</a></span> +"Purty good for a man as swore he had no revolver," +and Raften pointed to Caleb's weapon. "I seen you +with that ten years ago. An' sure I'm not scairt +of you an' yer revolver," said Raften, seeing Caleb +fingering his white pet; "an' I tell ye this. I won't +have ye and yer Sheep-killing cur ramatacking +through my woods an' making fires this dry saison."</p> +<p> +"D—— you, Raften, I've stood all I'm goin' to +stand from you." The revolver was out in a flash, +and doubtless Caleb would have lived up to his +reputation, but Sam, springing to push his father +back, came between, and Yan clung to Caleb's +revolver arm, while Guy got safely behind a tree.</p> +<p> +"Get out o' the way, you kids!" snarled Caleb.</p> +<p> +"By all manes," said Raften scoffingly; "now +that he's got me unarrumed again. You dhirty +coward! Get out av the way, bhoys, an Oi'll settle +him," for Raften was incapable of fear, and the +boys would have been thrust aside and trouble +follow, but that Raften as he left the house had +called his two hired men to follow and help fight the +fire, and now they came on the scene. One of them +was quite friendly with Caleb, the other neutral, +and they succeeded in stopping hostilities for a time, +while Sam exploded:</p> +<p> +"Now see here, Da, 'twould just 'a' served you right +if you'd got a hole through you. You make me sick, +running on Caleb. He didn't make that fire; 'twas +me an' Yan, an' we'll put it out safe enough. You +skinned Caleb an' he never done you no harm. +You run on him just as Granny de Neuville done +<span class="left"><a name="454">454</a></span> +on you after she grabbed your groceries. You +ought to be ashamed of yourself. Tain't square, +an' 'tain't being a man. When you can't prove +nothin' you ought to shut up."</p> +<p> +Raften was somewhat taken aback by this outburst, +especially as he found all the company against +him. He had often laughed at Granny de Neuville's +active hatred against him when he had done her +nothing but good. It never occurred to him that he +was acting a similar part. Most men would have been +furious at the disrespectful manner of their son, +but Raften was as insensitive as he was uncowardly. +His first shock of astonishment over, his only thought +of Sam was, "Hain't he got a cheek! My! but he +talks like a lawyer, an' he sasses right back like a +fightin' man; belave I'll make him study law instid +of tooth-pullin'."</p> +<p> +The storm was over, for Caleb's wrath was of the +short and fierce kind, and Raften, turning away in +moral defeat, growled: "See that ye put that fire out +safe. Ye ought all to be in yer beds an' aslape, +like dacint folks."</p> +<p> +"Well, ain't you dacint?" retorted Sam.</p> +<p> +Raften turned away, heeding neither that nor +Guy's shrill attempt to interpolate some details of +his own importance in this present hunt—"Ef it +hadn't been for me they wouldn't had no axe along, +Mr. Raften"—but William had disappeared. +<img src="images/sketch247.gif" alt="Guy brought the axe" hspace="15" style="float: left" width="204" height="107" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p> +The boys put out the fire carefully and made +somewhat silently for camp. Sam and Yan carried +<span class="left"><a name="455">455</a></span> +the Coon between them on a stick, and before they +reached the teepee they agreed that the carcass +weighed at least eighty pounds.</p> +<p> +Caleb left them, and they all turned in at once +and slept the sleep of the tired camper.</p> +<img src="images/sketch248.gif" alt="Sam and Yan carried the coon" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="209" height="62" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="456">456</a></span> +<img src="images/sketch249.gif" width="80" height="92" alt="the curious hoof-mark" align="left" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3><a name="3XXIII">XXIII</a></h3> +<h3>The Banshee's Wail and the Huge Night Prowler</h3> + +<p> +Next day while working on the Coon-skin Sam +and Yan discussed thoroughly the unpleasant +incident of the night before, but they decided +that it would be unwise to speak of it to Caleb +unless he should bring up the subject, and Guy was +duly cautioned.</p> +<p> +That morning Yan went to the mud albums on +one of his regular rounds and again found, first that +curious hoof-mark that had puzzled him before, and +down by the pond album the track of a very large +bird—much like a Turkey track, indeed. He brought +<img src="images/sketch250a.gif" width="120" height="121" alt="Blue Crane tracks" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +Caleb to see them. The Trapper said that one was +probably the track of a Blue Crane (Heron), and +the other, "Well, I don't hardly know; but it looks +to me mighty like the track of a big Buck—only +there ain't any short of the Long Swamp, and that's +ten miles at least. Of course, <i>when there's only out +it ain't a track</i>; it's an accident."</p> +<p> +"Yes; but I've found lots of them—a trail every +time, but not quite enough to follow."</p> +<p> +That night after dark, when he was coming to +camp with the product of a "massacree," Yan heard +a peculiar squawking, guttural sound that rose from +the edge of the pond and increased in strength, +<span class="left"><a name="457">457</a></span> +drawing nearer, till it was a hideous and terrifying +uproar. It was exactly the sound that Guy had +provoked on that first night when he came and +tried to frighten the camp. It passed overhead, +and Yan saw for a moment the form of a large +slow-flying bird.</p> +<p> +Next day it was Yan's turn to cook. At sunrise, +as he went for water, he saw a large Blue Heron rise +from the edge of the pond and fly on heavy pinions +away over the tree-tops. It was a thrilling sight. +The boy stood gazing after it, absolutely rapt with +delight, and when it was gone he went to the place +where it rose and found plenty of large tracks just +like the one he had sketched. Unquestionably it was +the same bird as on the night before, and the mystery +of the Wolf with the sore throat was solved. This +explanation seemed quite satisfactory to everybody +but Guy. He had always maintained stoutly that +the woods were full of Bears right after sundown. +Where they went at other times was a mystery, but +he "reckoned he hadn't yet run across the bird +that could scare him—no, nor the beast, nuther."</p> +<img src="images/sketch251.gif" width="140" height="192" alt="wolf with a sore throat" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +Caleb agreed that the grating cry must be that of +the Blue Crane, but the screech and wail in the tree-tops +at night he could shed no light on.</p> +<p> +There were many other voices of the night that +became more or less familiar. Some of them were +evidently birds; one was the familiar Song-Sparrow, +and high over the tree-tops from the gloaming sky +they often heard a prolonged sweet song. It was +<span class="left"><a name="458">458</a></span> +not till years afterward that Yan found out this to +be the night-song of the Oven-bird, but he was able +to tell them at once the cause of the startling outcry +that happened one evening an hour after sundown.</p> +<p> +The Woodpecker was outside, the other two +inside the teepee. A peculiar sound fell on his ear. +It kept on—a succession of long whines, and getting +stronger. As it gave no sign of ending, Sam called +the other boys. They stood in a row there and heard +this peculiar "<i>whine, whine, whine</i>" develop into +a loud, harsh "<i>whow, whow, whow</i>."</p> +<p> +"It must be some new Heron cry," Yan whispered.</p> +<p> +But the sound kept on increasing till it most +resembled the yowling of a very strong-voiced Cat, +and still grew till each separate "<i>meow</i>" might have +been the yell of a Panther. Then at its highest +and loudest there was a prolonged "<i>meow"</i> and +<img src="images/sketch252.gif" width="116" height="193" alt="the lynx" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +silence, followed finally by the sweet chant of the +Song-sparrow.</p> +<p> +A great light dawned on Little Beaver. Now +he remembered that voice in Glenyan so long ago, +and told the others with an air of certainty:</p> +<p> +"Boys, that's the yelling of a Lynx," and the next +day Caleb said that Yan was right.</p> +<p> +Some days later they learned that another lamb +had been taken from the Raften flock that night.</p> +<p> +In the morning Yan took down the tom-tom for a +little music and found it flat and soft.</p> +<p> +"Hallo," said he; "going to rain."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="459">459</a></span> +Caleb looked up at him with an amused expression. +"You're a reg'lar Injun. It's surely an Injun trick +that. When the tom-tom won't sing without being +warmed at the fire they allus says 'rain before night.'"</p> +<p> +The Trapper stayed late that evening. It had been +cloudy all the afternoon, and at sundown it began to +rain, so he was invited to supper. The shower grew +heavier instead of ending. Caleb went out and dug +a trench all round the teepee to catch the rain, then a +leader to take it away. After supper they sat around +the campfire in the teepee; the wind arose and the rain +beat down. Yan had to go out and swing the smoke +poles, and again his ear was greeted with <i>the screech</i>. +He brought in an armful of wood and made the +inside of the teepee a blaze of cheerful light. A +high wind now came in gusts, so that the canvas +flopped unpleasantly on the poles.</p> +<p> +"Where's your anchor rope?" asked the Trapper.</p> +<p> +Sam produced the loose end; the other was fastened +properly to the poles above. It had never been +used, for so far the weather had been fine; but now +Caleb sunk a heavy stake, lashed the anchor rope +to that, then went out and drove all the pegs a +little deeper, and the Tribe felt safe from any ordinary +storm.</p> +<p> +There was nothing to attract the old Trapper to his +own shanty. His heirs had begun to forget that he +needed food, and what little they did send was of +vilest quality. The old man was as fond of human +society as any one, and was easily persuaded now to +stay all night, "if you can stand Guy for a bedfeller." +So Caleb and Turk settled down for a +<span class="left"><a name="460">460</a></span> +comfortable evening within, while the storm raged +without.</p> +<p> +"Say, don't you touch that canvas, Guy; you'll +make it leak."</p> +<p> +"What, me? Oh, pshaw! How can it leak for a +little thing like that?" and Guy slapped it again in +bravado.</p> +<p> +"All right, it's on your side of the bed," and sure +enough, within two minutes a little stream of water +was trickling from the place he had rubbed, while +elsewhere the canvas turned every drop.</p> +<p> +This is well known to all who have camped +under canvas during a storm, and is more easily +remembered than explained.</p> +<p> +The smoke hung heavy in the top of the teepee +and kept crowding down until it became unpleasant.</p> +<p> +"Lift the teepee cover on the windward side, Yan. +There, that's it—but hold on," as a great gust came +in, driving the smoke and ashes around in whirlwinds. +"You had ought to have a lining. Give me that canvas: +that'll do." Taking great care not to touch the +teepee cover, Caleb fastened the lining across three +pole spaces so that the opening under the canvas +was behind it. This turned the draught from their +backs and, sending it over their heads, quickly cleared +the teepee of smoke as well as kept off what little rain +entered by the smoke hole.</p> +<p> +"It's on them linings the Injuns paint their records +and adventures. They mostly puts their totems on +the outside an' their records on the lining."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="461">461</a></span> +"Bully," said Sam; "now there's a job for you. +Little Beaver; by the time you get our adventures +on the inside and our totems on the out I tell you +we'll be living in splendour."</p> +<p> +"I think," answered Yan indirectly, "we ought +to take Mr. Clark into the Tribe. Will you be our +Medicine Man?" Caleb chuckled in a quiet way, +apparently consenting. "Now I have four totems +to paint on the outside," and this was the beginning +of the teepee painting that Yan carried out with yellow +clay, blue clay dried to a white, yellow clay burned +to red, and charcoal, all ground in Coon grease and +Pine gum, to be properly Indian. He could easily +have gotten bright colours in oil paint, but scorned +such White-man's truck, and doubtless the general +effect was all the better for it.</p> +<p> +"Say, Caleb," piped Guy, "tell us about the +Injuns—about their bravery. Bravery is what <i>I</i> +like," he added with emphasis, conscious of being +now on his own special ground. "Why, I mind the +time that old Woodchuck was coming roaring at me—I +bet some fellers would just 'a' been so scared—"</p> +<img src="images/sketch253.gif" width="123" height="274" alt="the banshee" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"<i>Hssh!</i>" said Sam.</p> +<p> +Caleb smoked in silence. The rain pattered on +the teepee without; the wind heaved the cover. They +all sat silently. Then sounded loud and clear a terrifying +"<i>scrrrrrr—oouwurr</i>." The boys were startled—would +have been terrified had they been outside +or alone.</p> +<p> +"That's it—that's the Banshee," whispered Sam.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="462">462</a></span> +Caleb looked up sharply.</p> +<p> +"What is it?" queried Yan. "We've heard it a +dozen times, at least."</p> +<p> +Caleb shook his head, made no reply, but turned +to his Dog. Turk was lying on his side by the fire, +and at this piercing screech he had merely lifted his +head, looked backward over his shoulder, turned his +big sad eyes on his master, then laid down again.</p> +<p> +"Turk don't take no stock in it."</p> +<p> +"Dogs never hear a Banshee," objected Sam, "no +more than they can see a ghost; anyway, that's what +Granny de Neuville says." So the Dog's negative +testimony was the reverse of comforting.</p> +<p> +"Hawkeye," said the Woodpecker, "you're the +bravest one of the crowd. Don't you want to go out +and try a shot at the Banshee? I'll lend you my +Witch-hazel arrow. We'll give you a <i>grand coup</i> +feather if you hit him. Go ahead, now—you know +bravery is what <i>you</i> like."</p> +<p> +"Yer nothin' but a passel o' blame dumb fools," +was the answer, "an' I wouldn't be bothered talking +to ye. Caleb, tell us something about the Indians."</p> +<p> +"What the Injuns love is bravery," said the +Medicine Man with a twinkle in his eye, and everybody +but Guy laughed, not very loudly, for each was +restrained by the thought that <i>he</i> would rather not +be called upon to show his bravery to-night.</p> +<p> +"I'm going to bed," said Hawkeye with unnecessary +energy.</p> +<p> +"Don't forget to roost under the waterspout you +<span class="left"><a name="463">463</a></span> +started when you got funny," remarked the Woodpecker.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch254.gif" width="178" height="209" alt="the waterspout" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Yan soon followed Guy's example, and Sam, who +had already learned to smoke, sat up with Caleb. +Not a word passed between them until after Guy's +snore and Yan's regular puffs told of sound sleep, when +Sam, taking advantage of a long-awaited chance, +opened out rather abruptly:</p> +<p> +"Say, Caleb, I ain't going to side with no man +against Da, but I know him just about as well as he +knows me. Da's all right; he's plumb and square, +and way down deep he's got an awful kind heart; +it's pretty deep, I grant you, but it's there, O.K. The +things he does on the quiet to help folks is done on +the quiet and ain't noticed. The things he does to +beat folks—an' he does do plenty—is talked all over +creation. But I know he has a wrong notion of you, +just as you have of him, and it's got to be set right."</p> +<p> +Sam's good sense was always evident, and now, +when he laid aside his buffoonery, his voice and +manner were very impressive—more like those of a +grown man than of a fifteen-year-old boy.</p> +<p> +Caleb simply grunted and went on smoking, so +Sam continued, "I want to hear your story, then +Ma an' me'll soon fix Da."</p> +<p> +The mention of "Ma" was a happy stroke. Caleb +had known her from youth as a kind-hearted girl. +She was all gentleness and obedience to her husband +except in matters of what she considered right and +wrong, and here she was immovable. She had +always believed in Caleb, even after the row, and +<span class="left"><a name="464">464</a></span> +had not hesitated to make known her belief.</p> +<p> +"There ain't much to tell," replied Caleb bitterly. +"He done me on that Horse-trade, an' crowded me +on my note so I had to pay it off with oats at sixty +cents, then he turned round and sold them within +half an hour for seventy-five cents. We had words +right there, an' I believe I did say I'd fix him for it. +I left Downey's Dump early that day. He had about +<img src="images/sketch255.gif" width="123" height="206" alt="pipe" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +$300 in his pocket—$300 of my money—the last I +had in the world. He was too late to bank it, so was +taking it home, when he was fired at in going through +the 'green bush'. My tobacco pouch and some letters +addressed to me was found there in the morning. +Course he blamed me, but I didn't have any shootin'-iron +then; my revolver, the white one, was stole from +me a week before—along with them same letters, I +expect. I consider they was put there to lay the +blame on me, an' it was a little overdone, most folks +would think. Well, then your Da set Dick Pogue on +me, an' I lost my farm—that's all."</p> +<p> +Sam smoked gravely for awhile, then continued:</p> +<p> +"That's true about the note an' the oats an' the +Horse-trade—just what Da would do; that's all in the +game: but you're all wrong about Dick Pogue—that's +too dirty for Da."</p> +<p> +"<i>You</i> may think so, but <i>I don't</i>."</p> +<p> +Sam made no answer, but after a minute laid his +hand on Turk, who responded with a low growl. +This made Caleb continue: "Down on me, down on +my Dog. Pogue says he kills Sheep 'an' every one is +<span class="left"><a name="465">465</a></span> +ready to believe it. I never knowed a Hound turn +Sheep-killer, an' I never knowed a Sheep-killer kill +at home, an' I never knowed a Sheep-killer content +with one each night, an' I never knowed a Sheep-killer +leave no tracks, an' Sheep was killed again +and again when Turk was locked up in the shanty +with me."</p> +<p> +"Well, whose Dog is it does it?"</p> +<p> +"I don't know as it's any Dog, for part of the Sheep +was eat each time, they say, though I never seen one +o' them that was killed or I could tell. It's more +likely a Fox or a Lynx than a Dog."</p> +<p> +There was a long silence, then outside again the +hair-lifting screech to which the Dog paid no heed, +although the Trapper and the boy were evidently +startled and scared.</p> +<p> +They made up a blazing fire and turned in silently +for the night.</p> +<p> +The rain came down steadily, and the wind swept +by in gusts. It was the Banshee's hour, and two or +three times, as they were dropping off, that fearful, +quavering human wail, "like a woman in distress," +came from the woods to set their hearts a-jumping, +not Caleb and Sam only, but all four.</p> +<p> +In the diary which Yan kept of those times each +day was named after its event; there was Deer day, +Skunk-and-Cat day, Blue Crane day, and this was +noted down as the night of the Banshee's wailing.</p> +<p> +Caleb was up and had breakfast ready before the +others were fully awake. They had carefully kept +<span class="left"><a name="466">466</a></span> +and cleaned the Coon meat, and Caleb made of it a +"prairie pie," in which bacon, potatoes, bread, one +<img src="images/sketch256.gif" width="96" height="321" alt="and now he's treed it" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +small onion and various scraps of food were made +important. This, warmed up for breakfast and +washed down with coffee, made a royal meal, and +feasting they forgot the fears of the night.</p> +<p> +The rain was over, but the wind kept on. Great +blockish clouds were tumbling across the upper sky +Yan went out to look for tracks. He found none +but those of raindrops.</p> +<p> +The day was spent chiefly about camp, making +arrows and painting the teepee.</p> +<p> +Again Caleb was satisfied to sleep in the camp. +The Banshee called once that night, and again Turk +seemed not to hear, but half an hour later there was +a different and much lower sound outside, a light, +nasal "<i>wow</i>." The boys scarcely heard it, but Turk +sprang up with bristling hair, growling, and forcing +his way out under the door, he ran, loudly barking, +into the woods.</p> +<p> +"He's after something now, all right," said his +master; "and now he's treed it," as the Dog began +his high-pitched yelps.</p> +<p> +"Good old Dog; he's treed the Banshee," and Yan +rushed out into the darkness. The others followed, +and they found Turk barking and scratching at a big +leaning Beech, but could get no hint of what the +creature up it might be like.</p> +<p> +"How does he usually bark for a Banshee?" asked +the Woodpecker, but got no satisfaction, and wondering +<span class="left"><a name="467">467</a></span> +why Turk should bother himself so mightily over +a little squeal and never hear that awful scream, +they retired to camp.</p> +<p> +Next morning in the mud not far from the teepee +Yan found the track of a common Cat, and shrewdly +guessed that this was the prowler that had been heard +and treed by the Dog; probably it was his old friend +of the Skunk fight. The wind was still high, and +as Yan pored over the tracks he heard for the first +time in broad daylight the appalling screech. It +certainly was <i>loud</i>, though less dreadful than at night, +and peering up Yan saw <i>two large limbs that crossed +and rubbed each other, when the right puff of wind came</i>. +This was the Banshee that did the wailing that had +scared them all—<i>all but the Dog</i>. His keener senses, +unspoiled by superstition, had rightly judged the +awful sound as the harmless scraping of two limbs +in the high wind, but the lower, softer noise made +by the prowling Cat he had just as truly placed and +keenly followed up.</p> +<p> +Guy was the only one not convinced. He clung +to his theory of Bears.</p> +<p> +Late in the night the two Chiefs were awakened +by Guy. "Say, Sam—Sam. Yan—Yan—Yan—Yan, +get up; that big Bear is 'round again. I told you +there was a Bear, an' you wouldn't believe me."</p> +<p> +There was a loud champing sound outside, and +occasionally growls or grumbling.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="468">468</a></span> +"There's surely something there, Sam. I wish +Turk and Caleb were here now."</p> +<p><img src="images/454.gif" width="130" height="280" alt="" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +The boys opened the door a little and peered out. +There, looming up in the dim starlight, was a huge +black animal, picking up scraps of meat and digging +up the tins that were buried in the garbage hole. +All doubts were dispelled. Guy had another triumph, +and he would have expressed his feelings to the full +but for fear of the monster outside.</p> +<p> +"What had we better do?"</p> +<p> +"Better not shoot him with arrows. That'll only +rile him. Guy, you blow up the coals and get a blaze."</p> +<p> +All was intense excitement now, "Oh, why +haven't we got a gun!"</p> +<p> +"Say, Sam, while Sap—I mean Hawkeye—makes +a blaze, let's you and me shoot with blunt arrows, +if the Bear comes toward the teepee." So they +arranged themselves, Guy puttering in terror at the +fire and begging them not to shoot.</p> +<p> +"What's the good o' riling him? It—it—it's +croo-oo-el."</p> +<p> +Sam and Yan stood with bows ready and arrows +nocked.</p> +<p> +Guy was making a failure of the fire, and the Bear +began nosing nearer, champing his teeth and grunting. +Now the boys could see the great ears as the monster +threw up its head.</p> +<p> +"Let's shoot before he gets any nearer." At +this Guy promptly abandoned further attempts to +make a fire and scrambled up on a cross stick that +<span class="left"><a name="469">469</a></span> +was high in the teepee for hanging the pot. He broke +out into tears when he saw Sam and Yan actually +drawing their bows.</p> +<p> +"He'll come in and eat us, he will."</p> +<p> +But the Bear was coming anyway, and having the +two tomahawks ready, the boys let fly. At once the +Bear wheeled and ran off, uttering the loud, unmistakable +squeal of an old Pig—Burns's own Pig—for +young Burns had again forgotten to put up the bars +that crossed his trail from the homestead to the camp.</p> +<p> +Guy came down quickly to join in the laugh. "I +tole you fellers not to shoot. I just believed it was +our old Hog, an' I couldn't help crying when I thought +how mad Paw'd be when he found out."</p> +<p> +"I s'pose you got up on that cross pole to see if +Paw was coming, didn't you?"</p> +<p> +"No; he got up there to show how brave he was."</p> +<p> +This was the huge night prowler that Guy had seen, +and in the morning one more mystery was explained, +for careful examination of Yan's diary of the big +Buck's track showed that it was nothing more than +the track of Burns's old Hog. Why had Caleb and +Raften both been mistaken? First, because it was +a long time since they had seen a Buck track, and +second, because this Pig happened to have a very +unpiggy foot—one as much like that of a Buck as +of a Hog.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="470">470</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXIV">XXIV</a></h3> +<h3>Hawkeye Claims Another Grand Coup</h3> + +<p> +"<i>Wa wa wa wa wa! Wa wa wa wa wa! Wa wa +wa wa wa!</i>" Three times it echoed through +the woods—a loud, triumphant cry.</p> +<p> +"That's Hawkeye with a big story of bravery; let's +hide."</p> +<p> +So Sam and Yan scrambled quickly into the teepee, +hid behind the lining and watched through an "arrow +hole." Guy came proudly stepping, chin in air, +uttering his war-whoop at intervals as he drew near, +and carrying his coat bundled up under one arm.</p> +<p> +"<i>Coup! Grand coup! Wa wa wa wa!</i>" he yelled +again and again, but looked simple and foolish when +he found the camp apparently deserted.</p> +<p> +So he ceased his yells and, walking deliberately into +the teepee, pulled out the sugar box and was stuffing +a handful into his mouth when the other two Chiefs +let off their wildest howls and, leaping from their +concealment, chased him into the woods—not far, for +Yan laughed too much, and Sam had on but one boot.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch258.gif" width="101" height="253" alt="the three straws" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +This was their re-gathering after a new search for +adventures. Early in the morning, as he wiped off +the breakfast knives by sticking them into the sod, +the Second War Chief had suggested: "Say, boys, in +old days Warriors would sometimes set out in different +directions in search of adventure, then agree to meet +<span class="left"><a name="471">471</a></span> +at a given time. Let's do that to-day and see what +we run across."</p> +<p> +"Get your straws," was Woodpecker's reply, as he +returned from putting the scraps on the Wakan Rock.</p> +<p> +"No you don't," put in Hawkeye hastily; "at least, +not unless you let me hold the straws. I know you'll +fix it so I'll have to go home."</p> +<p> +"All right. You can hold the three straws; long +one is Woodpecker—that's his head with a bit of red +flannel to prevent mistakes; the middle-sized thin one +is me; and the short fat one is you. Now let them +drop. Sudden death and no try over."</p> +<p> +The straws fell, and the two boys gave a yell as +Hawkeye's fate pointed straight to the Burns homestead.</p> +<p> +"Oh, get out; that's no good. We'll take the other +end," he said angrily, and persisted in going the +opposite way.</p> +<p> +"Now we all got to go straight till we find something, +and meet here again when that streak of sunlight +gets around in the teepee to that pole."</p> +<p> +As the sunstreak, which was their Indian clock, +travelled just about one pole for two hours, this +gave about four hours for adventures.</p> +<p> +Sam and Yan had been back some minutes, and +now Guy, having recovered his composure, bothered +not to wipe the stolen sugar from his lips, but broke +out eagerly:</p> +<p> +"Say, fellers, I bet I'm the bully boy. I bet you I—"</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="472">472</a></span> +"Silence!" roared Woodpecker. "You come last."</p> +<p> +"All right; I don't care. I bet I win over all of +you. I bet a million dollars I do."</p> +<p> +"Go ahead, Chief Woodpecker-settin'-on-the-edge."</p> +<p> +So Sam began:</p> +<p> +"I pulls on my boots" [he went barefooted half +the time]. "Oh, I tell you I know when to wear my +boots—an' I set out following my straw line straight +out. I don't take no back track. <i>I'm</i> not scared of +the front trail," and he turned his little slit eyes sadly +on Guy, "and I kep' right on, and when I came to +the dry bed of the creek it didn't turn <i>me</i>; no, not a +dozen rods; and I kept right till I came to a Wasp's +nest, and I turned and went round that coz it's cruel +to go blundering into a nest of a lot of poor innocent +little Wasps—and I kep' on, till I heard a low +growl, and I looked up and didn't see a thing. Then +the growling got louder, and I seen it was a hungry +Chipmunk roaring at me and jest getting ready to +spring. Then when I got out my bonearrer he says +to me, he says, as bold as brass 'Is your name +Woodpecker?' Now that scared me, and so I told a +lie—my very first. I says, says I. 'No,' says I. 'I'm +Hawkeye.' Well, you should 'a seen him. He just +turned pale; every stripe on his back faded <i>when I said +that name</i>, and he made for a hollow log and got in. +Now I was mad, and tried to get him out, but when +I'd run to one end he'd run to the other, so we ran +up and down till I had a deep-worn trail alongside +the log, an' he had a deep-worn trail inside the log, +an' I was figgerin' to have him wear it right through +<span class="left"><a name="473">473</a></span> +at the bottom so the log'd open, but all of a sudden +I says, 'I know what to do for you.' I took off my +boot and stuffs the leg into one end of the log. Then +I rattles a stick at the other end and I heard him run +into the boot. Then I squeezes in the leg and ties +a string around it an' brings him home, me wearing +one boot and the Chipmunk the other, and there he +is in it now," and Sam curled up his free bunch of +toes in graphic comment and added: "Humph! I +s'pose you fellers thought I didn't know what I was +about when I drawed on my long boots this morning."</p> +<p> +"Well, I just want to see that Chipmunk an' maybe +I'll believe you."</p> +<p> +"In there hunting for a loose patch," and Sam +held up the boot.</p> +<p> +"Let's turn him out," suggested the Second +Chief.</p> +<p> +So the string was cut and the Chipmunk scrambled +out and away to a safer refuge.</p> +<p> +"Now, sonny," said Sam, as it disappeared, "don't +tell your folks what happened you or they'll swat +you for a liar."</p> +<p> +"Oh, shucks! That's no adventure. Why, I—"</p> +<p> +"Hold on, Hawkeye; Little Beaver next."</p> +<p> +"Well, I don't care. I bet I—"</p> +<p> +Sam grabbed his knife and interrupted: "Do you +know what Callahan's spring lamb did when it saw +the old man gathering mint? Go ahead, Little +Beaver."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="474">474</a></span> +"I hadn't much of an adventure, but I went straight +through the woods where my straw pointed and ran +into a big dead stub. It was too old and rotten for +Birds to use now, as well as too late in the season, so +I got a pole and pushed it over, and I found the whole +history of a tenement in that stub. First of all, a +<img src="images/sketch259.gif" width="96" height="240" alt="the history of a tenement" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +Flicker had come years ago and dug put a fine big +nesting-place, and used it maybe two or three times. +When he was through, or maybe between seasons, +the Chickadees made a winter den of it, for there +were some Chickadee tail-feathers in the bottom. +Next a Purple Blackbird came and used the hole, +piling up a lot of roots with mud on them. Next +year it seems it came again and made another nest +on top of the last; then that winter the Chickadees +again used it for a cubby-hole, for there were some +more Chickadee feathers. Next year a Blue Jay +found it out and nested there. I found some of her +egg-shells among the soft stuff of the nest. Then I +suppose a year after a pair of Sparrow-hawks happened +on the place, found it suited them, and made +their nest in it and hatched a brood of little Sparrow-hawks. +Well, one day this bold robber brought +home to his little ones a Shrew."</p><br /> +<img src="images/sketch260.gif" width="147" height="96" alt="blue jay and hawk with shrew" align="left" hspace="10" border="0" /> +<p> +"What's that?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, a little thing like a Mouse, only it isn't a +Mouse at all; it is second cousin to a Mole."</p> +<p> +"I allus thought a Mole <i>was</i> a Mouse specie," +remarked Hawkeye, not satisfied with Yan's distinction.</p> +<img src="images/sketch261.gif" width="108" height="338" alt="Section of Flicker's Nest (half of trunk cut away, to show chamber)" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="475">475</a></span> +"Oh, you!" interrupted Sam. "You'll try to make +out the Burnses is some kin to the Raftens next."</p> +<p> +"I bet I won't!" and for once Guy got even.</p> +<p> +"Well," Yan continued, "it so happened—about +the first time in about a million years—the little +Hawks were not hungry just then. The Shrew +wasn't gobbled up at once, and though wounded, it +set to work to escape as soon as it was free of the old +one's claws. First it hid under the little ones, then +it began to burrow down through the feather-bed of +the Sparrow-hawk's nest, then through the Blue +Jay's nest, then through the soft stuff of the Blackbird's +nest and among the old truck left by the +Chickadees till it struck the hard mud floor of the +Blackbird's nest, and through that it could not dig. +Its strength gave out now, and it died there and lay +hidden in the lowest nest of the house, till years +after I came by and broke open the old stub and +made it tell me a sad and mournful story—that—maybe—never +happened at all. But there's the +drawing I made of it at the place, showing all the +nests just as I found them, and there's the dried up +body of the little Shrew."</p> +<p> +Sam listened with intense interest, but Guy was at +no pains to conceal his contempt. "Oh, pshaw! +That's no adventure—just a whole lot of 's'posens' +without a blame thing doing. Now I'll tell you +what I done. I—"</p> +<p> +"Now, Hawkeye," Sam put in, "please don't be +rough about it. Leave out the awful things: I ain't +well to-day. You keep back the scary parts till +<span class="left"><a name="476">476</a></span> +to-morrow."</p> +<p> +"I tell you I left here and went straight as a +die, an' I seen a Woodchuck, but he wasn't in line, +so I says: 'No, some other day. I kin get you <i>easy</i> +any time.' Then I seen a Hawk going off with a +Chicken, but that was off my beat, an' I found lots o' +old stumps an' hundreds o' Chipmunks an' wouldn't +be bothered with them. Then I come to a farmhouse +<img src="images/sketch262.gif" width="128" height="155" alt="Guy's claim" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +an'—an' I went around that so's not to scare the +Dog, an' I went pretty near as far as Downey's +Dump—yes, a little a-past it—only to one side—when +up jumps a Partridge as big as a Turkey, an' a hull +gang of young ones—about thirty or forty. I bet I +seen them forty rod away, an' they all flew, but one +that lighted on a tree as far as—oh, 'cross that field, +anyway. I bet you fellers wouldn't 'a' seen it at all. +Well, I jest hauled off as ca'm as ca'm an' let him +have it. I aimed straight for his eye—an' that's +where I hit him. <i>Now who gets a grand coup, for +there he is</i>!" Hawkeye unrolled his coat and turned +out a bobtailed young Robin in the speckled plumage, +shot through the body.</p> +<p> +"So that's your Partridge. I call that a young +Robin," said the First Chief with slow emphasis. +"Rules is broke. Killed a Song-bird. Little Beaver, +arrest the criminal."</p> +<p> +But Hawkeye struggled with all the ferocity +born of his recent exploit, and had to be bound +hand and foot while a full Council was called to try +the case. The angry protests weakened when he +<span class="left"><a name="477">477</a></span> +found how serious the Councillors were. Finally +he pleaded "guilty" and was condemned to wear +a black feather of disgrace and a white feather for +cowardice for three days, as well as wash the dishes +for a week. They would also have made him cook +for that term, but that they had had some unhappy +experiences with some dishes of Guy's make.</p> +<p> +"Well, I won't do it, that's all," was the prisoner's +defiant retort. "I'll go home first."</p> +<p> +"And hoe the garden? Oh, yes; I think I see you."</p> +<p> +"Well, I won't do it. You better let me 'lone."</p> +<p> +"Little Beaver, what do they do when an Injun +won't obey the Council?"</p> +<p> +"Strip him of his honours. Do you remember +that stick we burned with 'Sapwood' on it?"</p> +<p> +"Good idee. We'll burn Hawkeye for a name +and dig up the old one"</p> +<p> +"No, you won't, you dirty mean Skunks! Ye +promised me you'd never call me that again. I <i>am</i> +Hawkeye. I kin see farder'n—n—" and he +began to weep.</p> +<p> +"Well, will you obey the Council?"</p> +<p> +"Yes; but I won't wear no white feather—I'm +<i>brave</i>, boohoo!"</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch263.gif" alt="Guy dishwashing, wearing black feather" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="200" height="174" border="0" /> +"All right. We'll leave that off; but you must +do the other punishments.</p> +<p> +"Will I still be Hawkeye?"</p> +<p> +"Yes."</p> +<p> +"All right. I'll do it." </p> +<br /><br /><br /> +<img src="images/sketch264.gif" width="112" height="157" alt="the three-fingered print" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span class="left"><a name="478">478</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXV">XXV</a></h3> +<h3>The Three-Fingered Tramp</h3> + +<p><img src="images/sketch265.gif" width="111" height="164" alt="the three-fingered print" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: left" /> +Broad-shouldered, beetle-browed, brutal +and lazy was Bill Hennard, son of a prosperous +settler. He had inherited a fine farm, but he was +as lazy as he was strong, and had soon run through his +property and followed the usual course from laziness + +to crime. Bill had seen the inside of more than one +jail. He was widely known in the adjoining township +of Emolan; many petty thefts were traced to +him, and it was openly stated that but for the help +of a rich and clever confederate he would certainly be +in the penitentiary. It was darkly hinted, further, +that this confederate was a well-to-do Sangerite who +had many farms and a wife and son and a little daughter, +and his first name was William, and his second +name Ra—— "But never mind; and don't for the +world say I told you." Oh, it's easy to get rich—if +you know how. Of course, these rumours never +reached the parties chiefly concerned.</p> +<p> +Hennard had left Downey's Dump the evening +before, and avoiding the roads, had struck through the +woods, to visit his partner, with important matters +to arrange—very important for Hennard. He was +much fuddled when he left Downey's, the night +was cloudy, and consequently he had wandered round and round till he was completely lost.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="480">480</a></span> +<p class="center"><img src="images/illus20a.jpg" width="640" height="479" alt="Well, sonny, cookin' dinner?" border="0" /></p> +<span class="left"><a name="481">481</a></span> +<p>He slept under a tree (a cold, miserable sleep it was), and +in the sunless morning he set out with little certainty +to find his "pal." After some time he stumbled +on the trail that led him to the boys' camp. He was +now savage with hunger and annoyance, and reckless +with bottle assistance, for he carried a flask. No +longer avoiding being seen, he walked up to the teepee +just as Little Beaver was frying meat for the noonday +meal he expected to eat alone. At the sound of +footsteps Yan turned, supposing that one of his companions +had come back, but there instead was a big, +rough-looking tramp.</p> +<p> +"Well, sonny, cookin' dinner? I'll be glad to j'ine +ye," he said with an unpleasant and fawning smile.</p> +<p> +His manner was as repulsive as it could be, though +he kept the form of politeness.</p> +<p> +"Where's your folks, sonny?"</p> +<p> +"Haven't any—here," replied Yan, in some fear, +remembering now the tramps of Glenyan.</p> +<p> +"H-m—all alone—camped all alone, are ye?"</p> +<p> +"The other fellers are away till the afternoon."</p> +<p> +"Wall, how nice. Glad to know it. I'll trouble +you to hand me that stick," and now the tramp's +manner changed from fawning to command, as he +pointed to Yan's bow hanging unstrung.</p> +<p> +"That's my bow!" replied Yan, in fear and +indignation.</p> +<p> +"I won't tell ye a second time—hand me that +stick, or I'll spifflicate ye."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="482">482</a></span> +Yan stood still. The desperado strode forward, +seized the bow, and gave him two or three blows on +the back and legs.</p> +<p> +"Now, you young Pup, get me my dinner, and +be quick about it, or I'll break yer useless neck."</p> +<p> +Yan now realized that he had fallen into the power +of the worst enemy of the harmless camper, and saw +too late the folly of neglecting Raften's advice to +have a big Dog in camp. He glanced around and +would have run, but the tramp was too quick for +him and grabbed him by the collar. "Oh, no you +don't; hold on, sonny. I'll fix you so you'll do as +you're told." He cut the bowstring from its place, +and violently throwing Yan down, he tied his feet +so that they had about eighteen inches' play.</p> +<p> +"Now rush around and get my dinner; I'm hungry. +An' don't you spile it in the cooking or I'll use the gad +on you; an' if you holler or cut that cord I'll kill ye. +See that?" and he got out an ugly-looking knife.</p> +<p> +Tears of fear and pain ran down Yan's face as he +limped about to obey the brute's orders.</p> +<p> +"Here, you move a little faster!" and the tramp +turned from poking the fire with the bow to give +another sounding blow. If he had looked down the +trail he would have seen a small tow-topped figure +that turned and scurried away at the sound.</p> +<p> +Yan was trained to bear punishment, but the +tyrant seemed careless of even his life.</p> +<p> +"Are you going to kill me?" he burst out, after +another attack for stumbling in his shackles.</p> +<img src="images/sketch267.gif" width="220" height="123" alt="shackles" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<p><span class="left"><a name="483">483</a></span> +"Don't know but I will when I've got through +with ye," replied the desperado with brutal coolness. +"I'll take some more o' that meat—an' don't you let +it burn, neither. Where's the sugar for the coffee? +I'll get a bigger club if ye don't look spry," and so +the tramp was served with his meal. "Now bring +me some tobaccer."</p> +<p> +Yan hobbled into the teepee and reached down +Sam's tobacco bag.</p> +<p> +"Here, what's that box? Bring that out here," +and the tramp pointed to the box in which they +kept some spare clothes. Yan obeyed in fear and +trembling. "Open it."</p> +<p> +"I can't. It's locked, and Sam has the key."</p> +<p> +"He has, has he? Well, I have a key that will +open it," and so he smashed the lid with the axe; then +he went through the pockets, got Yan's old silver +watch and chain, and in Sam's trousers pocket he +got two dollars.</p> +<p> +"Ha! That's just what I want, sonny," and the +tramp put them in his own pockets. "'Pears to me the +fire needs a little wood," he remarked, as his eye fell +on Yan's quiverful of arrows, and he gave that a +kick that sent many of them into the blaze. +<img src="images/sketch268.gif" width="130" height="232" alt="...arrows into the blaze" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /></p> +<p> +"Now, sonny, don't look at me quite so hard, like +you was taking notes, or I may have to cut your +throat and put you in the swamp hole to keep ye +from telling tales."</p> +<p> +Yan was truly in terror of his life now.</p> +<img src="images/sketch269.gif" width="162" height="143" alt="the knife" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p class="indent"> +"Bring me the whetstone," the tyrant growled, "an' +some more coffee." Yan did so. The tramp began +<span class="left"><a name="484">484</a></span> +whetting his long knife, and Yan saw two things +that stuck in his memory: first, the knife, which was +of hunting pattern, had a brass Deer on the handle; +second, the hand that grasped it had only three +fingers.</p> +<p> +"What's that other box in there?"</p> +<p> +"That's—that's—only our food box."</p> +<p> +"You lie to me, will ye?" and again the stick +descended. "Haul it out."</p> +<p> +"I can't."</p> +<p> +"Haul it out or I'll choke ye."</p> +<p> +Yan tried, but it was too heavy.</p> +<p> +"Get out, you useless Pup!" and the tramp walked +into the teepee and gave Yan a push that sent him +headlong out on the ground.</p> +<p> +The boy was badly bruised, but saw his only +chance. The big knife was there. He seized it, +cut the cord on his legs, flung the knife afar in the +swamp and ran like a Deer. The tramp rushed +out of the teepee yelling and cursing. Yan might have +gotten away had he been in good shape, but the +tramp's cruelty really had crippled him, and +the brute was rapidly overtaking him. As he sped +down the handiest, the south trail, he sighted in +the trees ahead a familiar figure, and yelling with +all his remaining strength, "Caleb! Caleb!! Caleb +Clark!!!" he fell swooning in the grass.</p> +<p> +There is no mistaking the voice of dire distress. +Caleb hurried up, and with one impulse he and the +tramp grappled in deadly struggle. Turk was not +<span class="left"><a name="485">485</a></span> +with his master, and the tramp had lost his knife, so +it was a hand-to-hand conflict. A few clinches, a +few heavy blows, and it was easy to see who must +win. Caleb was old and slight. The tramp, strong, +heavy-built, and just drunk enough to be dangerous, +was too much for him, and after a couple of rounds +the Trapper fell writhing with a foul blow. The +tramp felt again for his knife, swore savagely, +looked around for a club, found only a big stone, +and would have done no one knows what, when there +was a yell from behind, another big man crashed +down the trail, and the tramp faced William Raften, +puffing and panting, with Guy close behind. The +stone meant for Caleb he hurled at William, who +dodged it, and now there was an even fight. Had +the tramp had his knife it might have gone hard +with Raften, but fist to fist the farmer had the odds. +His old-time science turned the day, and the desperado +went down with a crusher "straight from the +shoulder."</p> +<p> +It seemed a veritable battle-field—three on the +ground and Raften, red-faced and puffing, but sturdy +and fearless, standing in utter perplexity.</p> +<p> +"Phwhat the divil does it all mane?"</p> +<p> +"I'll tell you, Mr. Raften," chirped in Guy, as he +stole from his safe shelter.</p> +<p> +"Oh, ye're here, are ye, Guy? Go and git a rope +at camp—quick now," as the tramp began to move.</p> +<p> +As soon as the rope came Raften tied the fellow's +arms safely.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="486">486</a></span> +"'Pears to me Oi've sane that hand befoore," +remarked Raften, as the three fingers caught his +eye.</p> +<p> +Yan was now sitting up, gazing about in a dazed +way. Raften went over to his old partner and said: +"Caleb, air ye hurrt? It's me—it's Bill Raften. +Air ye hurrt?"</p> +<p> +Caleb rolled his eyes and looked around.</p> +<p> +Yan came over now and knelt down. "Are you +hurt, Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +He shook his head and pointed to his chest.</p> +<p> +"He's got his wind knocked out," Raften explained; +"he'll be all right in a minute or two. Guy, bring +some wather."</p> +<p> +Yan told his story and Guy supplied an important +chapter. He had returned earlier than expected, +and was near to camp, when he heard the tramp +beating Yan. His first impulse to run home to his +puny father was replaced with the wiser one to go +for brawny Mr. Raften.</p> +<p> +The tramp was now sitting up and grumbling +savagely.</p> +<p> +"Now, me foine feller," said William. "We'll +take ye back to camp for a little visit before we take +ye to the 'Pen.' A year in the cooler will do ye +moore good, Oi'm thinkin', than anny other tratement. +Here, Guy, you take the end av the rope +and fetch the feller to camp, while I help Caleb."</p> +<p> +Guy was in his glory. The tramp was forced to go +ahead; Guy followed, jerking the rope and playing +Horse, shouting, "Ch'—ch'—ch'—get up, Horsey," +<span class="left"><a name="487">487</a></span> +while William helped old Caleb with a gentleness +that recalled a time long ago when Caleb had so +helped him after a falling tree had nearly killed him +in the woods.</p> +<p> +At camp they found Sam. He was greatly +astonished at the procession, for he knew nothing +of the day's events, and fearfully disappointed he +was on learning what he had missed.</p> +<p> +Caleb still looked white and sick when they got +him to the fire, and Raften said, "Sam, go home and +get your mother to give you a little brandy."</p> +<img src="images/sketch270.gif" width="100" height="95" alt="the brandy cup" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"You don't need to go so far," said Yan, "for that +fellow has a bottle in his pocket."</p> +<p> +"I wouldn't touch a dhrap of annything he has, let +alone give it to a <i>sick friend</i>," was William's reply.</p> +<p> +So Sam went for the brandy and was back with it +in half an hour.</p> +<p> +"Here now, Caleb," said William, "drink that +now an' ye'll feel better," and as he offered the cup +he felt a little reviving glow of sympathy for his +former comrade.</p> +<p> +When Sam went home that morning it was with a +very clear purpose. He had gone straight to his +mother and told all he knew about the revolver and +the misunderstanding with Caleb, and they two +had had a long, unsatisfactory interview with the +father. Raften was brutal and outspoken as usual. +Mrs. Raften was calm and clear-witted. Sam was +shrewd. The result was a complete defeat for +William—a defeat that he would not acknowledge; +<span class="left"><a name="488">488</a></span> +and Sam came back to camp disappointed for the time +being, but now to witness the very thing he had been +striving for—his father and the Trapper reconciled; +deadly enemies two hours ago, but now made friends +through a fight. Though overpowered in argument, +Raften's rancour was not abated, but rather increased +toward the man he had evidently misused, until the +balance was turned by the chance of his helping +that man in a time of direst straits.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch271.gif" width="162" height="309" alt="...but now made friends through a fight" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="489">489</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXVI">XXVI</a></h3> +<h3>Winning Back The Farm</h3> + +<p> +Oh, the magic of the campfire! No unkind feeling +long withstands its glow. For men to meet +at the same campfire is to come closer, to +have better understanding of each other, and to lay the +foundations of lasting friendship. "He and I camped +together once!" is enough to explain all cordiality +between the men most wide apart, and Woodcraft days +are days of memories happy, bright and lifelong.</p> +<p> +To sit at the same camp fireside has always been +a sacred bond, and the scene of twenty years before +was now renewed in the Raften woods, thanks to +that campfire lit a month before—the sacred fire. +How well it had been named! William and Caleb +were camped together in good fellowship again, +marred though it was with awkwardness as yet, but +still good fellowship.</p> +<p> +Raften was a magistrate. He sent Sam with an +order to the constable to come for the prisoner. +Yan went to the house for provisions and to bring +Mrs. Raften, and Guy went home with an astonishing +account of his latest glorious doings. The tramp +desperado was securely fastened to a tree; Caleb +was in the teepee lying down. Raften went in for +a few minutes, and when he came out the tramp +was gone. His bonds were cut, not slipped. How +<span class="left"><a name="490">490</a></span> +could he nave gotten away without help?</p> +<p> +"Never mind," said Raften. "That three-fingered +hand is aisy to follow. Caleb, ain't that Bill +Hennard?"</p> +<p> +"I reckon."</p> +<p> +The men had a long talk. Caleb told of the loss +of his revolver—he was still living in the house with +the Pogues then—and of its recovery. They both +remembered that Hennard was close by at the time +of the quarrel over the Horse-trade. There was +much that explained itself and much of mystery +that remained.</p> +<p> +But one thing was clear. Caleb had been tricked +out of everything he had in the world, for it was +just a question of days now before Pogue would, in +spite of Saryann, throw off all pretense and order +Caleb from the place to shift for himself.</p> +<p> +Raften sat a long time thinking, then said:</p> +<p> +"Caleb, you do exactly as Oi tell ye and ye'll get +yer farrum back. First, Oi'll lend ye wan thousand +dollars for wan week."</p> +<p> +<i>A thousand dollars!!!</i> Caleb's eyes opened, and +what was next he did not then learn, for the boys +came back and interrupted, but later the old Trapper +was fully instructed.</p> +<p> +When Mrs. Raften heard of it she was thunderstruck. +A thousand dollars in Sanger was like one +hundred thousand dollars in a big city. It was +untold wealth, and Mrs. Raften fairly gasped.</p> +<img src="images/sketch272.gif" alt="A thousand dollars in Sanger was like one hundred thousand dollars in a big city" hspace="15" style="float: left" width="159" height="124" border="0" /> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="491">491</a></span> +"A thousand dollars, William! Why! isn't that a +heavy strain to put on the honesty of a man who +thinks still that he has some claim on you? Is it safe +to risk it?"</p> +<p> +"Pooh!" said William. "Oi'm no money-lender, +nor spring gosling nayther. Thayer's the money +Oi'll lend him," and Raften produced a roll of counterfeit +bills that he as magistrate had happened to have +in temporary custody. "Thayer's maybe five hundred +or six hundred dollars, but it's near enough."</p> +<p> +Caleb, however, was allowed to think it real +money, and fully prepared, he called at his own—the +Pogue house—the next day, knocked, and +walked in.</p> +<p> +"Good morning, father," said Saryann, for she +had some decency and kindness.</p> +<p> +"What do you want here?" said Dick savagely; +"bad enough to have you on the place, without +forcing yerself on us day and night."</p> +<p> +"Hush now, Dick; you forget—"</p> +<p> +"Forget—I don't forget nothin'," retorted Dick, +interrupting his wife. "He had to help with the +chores an' work, an' he don't do a thing and expects +to live on me."</p> +<p> +"Oh, well, you won't have me long to bother you," +said Caleb sadly, as he tottered to a chair. His face +was white and he looked sick and shaky.</p> +<p> +"What's the matter, father?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, I'm pretty bad. I won't last much longer +You'll be quit o' me before many days."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="492">492</a></span> +"Big loss!" grumbled Dick.</p> +<p> +"I—I give you my farm an' everything I had—"</p> +<p> +"Oh, shut up. I'm sick of hearing about it."</p> +<p> +"At least—'most—everything. I—I—I—didn't +say nothing about a little wad o'—o'—bills I had +stored away. I—I—" and the old man trembled +violently—"I'm so cold."</p> +<p> +"Dick, do make a fire," said his wife.</p> +<p> +"I won't do no sich fool trick. It's roastin' hot +now."</p> +<p> +"'Tain't much," went on the trembling old man, +"only fif—fif—teen hundred—dollars. I got it here +now," and he drew out the roll of greenbacks.</p> +<p> +<i>FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS!</i> Twice as +much as the whole farm and stock were worth! +Dick's eyes fairly popped out, and Caleb was careful +to show also the handle of the white revolver.</p> +<p> +"Why, father," exclaimed Saryann, "you are ill: +Let me go get you some brandy. Dick, make a fire. +Father is cold as ice."</p> +<p> +"Yes—please—fire—I'm all of—a—tremble—with +—cold."</p> +<p> +Dick rushed around now and soon the big fire +place was filled with blaze and the room unpleasantly +warm.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch273.gif" alt="Quinine" style="float: left" width="178" height="166" border="0" /> +"Here, father, have some brandy and water," +said Dick, in a very different tone. "Would you like +a little quinine?"</p> +<p> +"No, no—I'm better now; but I was saying—I +only got a few days to live, an' having no legal kin— +this here wad'd go to the gover'ment, but I spoke +<span class="left"><a name="493">493</a></span> +to the lawyer, an' all I need do—is—add—a word +to the deed o' gift—for the farm—to include +this—an' it's very right you should have it, too." Old +Caleb shook from head to foot and coughed terribly.</p> +<p> +"Oh, father, let me send for the doctor," pleaded +Saryann, and Dick added feebly, "Yes, father, let +me go for the doctor."</p> +<p> +"No, no; never mind. It don't matter. I'll +be better off soon. Have you the deed o' gift here?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, yes, Dick has it in his chest." Dick ran to +get the deed, for these were the days before registration +in Canada; possession of the deed was possession +of the farm, and to lose the deed was to lose +the land.</p> +<p> +The old man tremblingly fumbled over the money, +seeming to count it—"Yes—just—fif-teen hun'erd," +as Dick came clumping down the ladder with the +deed.</p> +<p> +"Have you got a—pen—and ink—"</p> +<p> +Dick went for the dried-up ink bottle while Saryann +hunted for <i>the</i> pen. Caleb's hand trembled violently +as he took the parchment, glanced carefully +over it—yes, this was it—the thing that had made +him a despised pauper. He glanced around quickly. +Dick and Saryann were at the other end of the room. +He rose, took one step forward and stuffed the deed +into the blazing fire. Holding his revolver in his right +hand and the poker in the left, he stood erect and firm, +all sign of weakness gone; his eyes were ablaze, and +with voice of stern command he hissed "<i>Stand back!</i>" +<span class="left"><a name="494">494</a></span> +And pointed the pistol as he saw Dick rushing to +rescue the deed. In a few seconds it was wholly +consumed, and with that, as all knew, the last claim +of the Pogues on the property, for Caleb's own possessory +was safe in a vault at Downey's.</p> +<p> +"Now," thundered Caleb, "you dirty paupers, +get out of my house! Get off my land, and don't +you dare touch a thing belonging to me."</p> +<p> +He raised his voice in a long "halloo" and rapped +three times on the table. Steps were heard outside. +Then in came Raften with two men.</p> +<p> +"Magistrate Raften, clear my house of them interlopers, +if ye please."</p> +<p> +Caleb gave them a few minutes to gather up their +own clothes, then they set out on foot for Downey's, +wild with helpless rage, penniless wanderers in the +world, as they had meant to leave old Caleb.</p> +<p> +Now he was in possession of his own again, once +more comfortably "fixed." After the men had had +their rough congratulations and uproarious laughter +over the success of the trick, Raften led up to the +question of money, then left a blank, wondering +what Caleb would do. The good old soul pulled +out the wad.</p> +<img src="images/sketch274.gif" width="148" height="203" alt="In a few seconds it was wholly consumed" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p class="indent"> +"There it is, Bill. I hain't even counted it, and +a thousand times obliged. If ever you need a +friend, call on me."</p> +<p> +<img src="images/sketch275.gif" width="138" height="207" alt="masks" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +Raften chuckled, counted the greenbacks and +said "All right!" and to this day Caleb doesn't know +that the fortune he held in his hand that day was +<span class="left"><a name="495">495</a></span> +nothing but a lot of worthless paper.</p> +<p> +A week later, as the old Trapper sat alone getting +his evening meal, there was a light rap at the door.</p> +<p> +"Come in."</p> +<p> +A woman entered. Turk had sprung up growling, +but now wagged his tail, and when she lifted a veil +Caleb recognized Saryann.</p> +<img src="images/sketch276.gif" width="71" height="105" alt="mask" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +"What do you want?" he demanded savagely.</p> +<p> +"'Twasn't my doing, father; you know it wasn't; +and now he's left me for good." She told him +her sorrowful story briefly. Dick had not +courted Saryann, but the farm, and now that that +was gone he had no further use for her. He had +been leading a bad life, "far worse than any one +knew," and now he had plainly told her he was done +with her.</p> +<p> +Caleb's hot anger never lasted more than five +minutes. He must have felt that her story was true, +for the order of former days was reestablished, and +with Saryann for housekeeper the old man had a +comfortable home to the end of his days.</p> +<p> +Pogue disappeared; folks say he went to the States. +The three-fingered tramp never turned up again, and +about this time the serious robberies in the region +ceased. Three years afterward they learned that +two burglars had been shot while escaping from an +American penitentiary. One of them was undoubtedly +Dick Pogue, and the other was described as a +big dark man with three fingers on the right hand.</p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="496">496</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXVII">XXVII</a></h3> +<h3>The Rival Tribe</h3> + +<p> +The winning back of the farm, according to Sanger +custom must be celebrated in a "sociable" that +took the particular form of a grand house-warming, +in which the Raftens, Burnses and Boyles +were fully represented, as Char-less was Caleb's fast +friend. The Injun band was very prominent, for +Caleb saw that it was entirely owing to the meetings +at the camp that the glad event had come about.</p> +<p> +Caleb acted as go-between for Char-less Boyle and +William Raften, and their feud was forgotten—for +the time at least—as they related stories of their +early hunting days, to the delight of Yan and the +Tribe. There were four other boys there whom +Little Beaver met for the first time. They were +Wesley Boyle, a dark-skinned, low-browed, active +boy of Sam's age; his brother Peter, about twelve, +fair, fat and freckled, and with a marvellous squint; +and their cousin Char-less Boyle, Jr., good-natured, +giggly, and of spongy character; also Cyrus Digby, +a smart city boy, who was visiting "the folks," and +who usually appeared in white cuffs and very +high stand-up collar. These boys were greatly +interested in the Sanger Indian camp, and one +outcome of the meeting at Caleb's was the formation +of another Tribe of Indians, composed of the three +<span class="left"><a name="497">497</a></span> +Boyle boys and their town friend.</p> +<img src="images/sketch277.gif" width="82" height="160" alt="Blackhawk" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +Since most of these were Boyles and the hunting-ground +was the Boyles woods about that marshy pond, +and especially because they had read of a band of +Indians named Boilers or Stoneboilers (Assineboines), +they called themselves the "Boilers." Wesley was +the natural leader. He was alert as well as strong, +and eager to do things, so made a fine Chief. His +hooked nose and black hair and eyes won for him +the appropriate name of "Blackhawk." The city +boy being a noisy "show-off," who did little work, +was called "Bluejay" Peter Boyle was "Peetweet," +and Char-less, from his peculiar snickering +and showing two large front teeth, was called +"Red-squirrel."</p> +<p> +They made their camp as much as possible like +that of the Sangers, and adopted their customs; but +a deadly rivalry sprang up between them from the +first. The Sangers felt that they were old and experienced +Woodcrafters. The Boilers thought they +knew as much and more, and they outnumbered +the Sangers. Active rivalry led to open hostilities. +There was a general battle with fists and mud; that +proved a draw. Then a duel between leaders was +arranged, and Blackhawk won the fight and the +Woodpecker's scalp. The Boilers were wild with +enthusiasm. They proposed to take the whole Sanger +camp, but in a hand-to-hand fight of both tribes it +was another draw. Guy, however, scored a glorious +triumph over Char-less and secured his scalp at the +<span class="left"><a name="498">498</a></span> +moment of victory.</p> +<p> +Now Little Beaver sent a challenge to Blackhawk. +It was scornfully accepted. Again the Boiler Chief +was victor and won another scalp, while Little Beaver +got a black eye and a bad licking, but the enemy +retired.</p> +<p> +Yan had always been considered a timid boy at +Bonnerton, but that was largely the result of his +repressive home training. Sanger was working great +changes. To be treated with respect by the head of +the house was a new and delightful experience. It +developed his self-respect. His wood life was making +him wonderfully self-reliant, and improved health +helped his courage, so next day, when the enemy +appeared in full force, every one was surprised when +Yan again challenged Blackhawk. It really cost +him a desperate and mighty effort to do so, for it is +one thing to challenge a boy that you think you can +"lick" and another to challenge one the very day after +he has licked you. Indeed, if the truth were known, +Yan did it in fear and trembling, and therein lay the +courage—in going ahead when fear said "Go back."</p> +<p> +It is quite certain that a year before he would not +have ventured in such a fight, and he only did it now +because he had realized that Blackhawk was left-handed, +and a plan to turn this to account had +suggested itself. Every one was much surprised at +the challenge, but much more so when, to the joy +of his tribe, Little Beaver won a brilliant victory.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="499">499</a></span> +Inspired by this, they drove the Boilers from the +field, scored a grand triumph, and Sam and Yan +each captured a scalp. +<img src="images/sketch278.gif" width="120" height="352" alt="Sam and Yan each captured a scalp" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /></p> +<p> +The Sangers held a Council and scalp-dance in +celebration that night around an outdoor fire. The +Medicine Man was sent for to be in it.</p> +<p> +After the dance, Chief Beaver, his face painted +to hide his black eye, made a speech. He claimed +that the Boilers would surely look for reinforcements +and attempt a new attack, and that, therefore, the +Sangers should try to add to their number, too.</p> +<p> +"I kin lick Char-less any time," piped in Guy +proudly, and swung the scalp he had won.</p> +<p> +But the Medicine Man said: "If I were you boys +I'd fix up a peace. Now you've won you ought to +ask them to a big pow-wow."</p> +<p> +These were the events that led to the friendly meeting +of the two Tribes in full war-paint.</p> +<p> +Chief Woodpecker first addressed them: "Say, +fellers—Brother Chiefs, I mean—this yere quar'lin' +don't pay. We kin have more fun working together. +Let's be friends an' join in one Tribe. There's more +fun when there's a crowd."</p> +<p> +"All right," said Blackhawk; "but we'll call the +tribe the 'Boilers,' coz we have the majority, and +leave me Head Chief."</p> +<p> +"You are wrong about that. Our Medicine Men +makes us even number and more than even weight. +We've got the best camp—have the swimming-pond, +and we are the oldest Tribe, not to speak of the success +we had in a certain leetle business not long ago which +<span class="left"><a name="500">500</a></span> +the youngest of us kin remember," and Guy grinned +in appreciation of this evident reference to his exploit.</p> +<p> +As a matter of fact, it was the swimming-pond that +turned the day. The Boilers voted to join the +Sangers. Their holiday was only ten days, the +Sangers had got a week's extension, and all knew +that they could get most out of their time by going +to the pond camp. The question of a name was +decided by Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"Boiler Warriors," said he, "it is the custom of +the Indians to have the Tribes divided in clans. We +are the Sanger clan. You are the Boiler clan. But +as we all live in Sanger we are all Sanger Indians."</p> +<p> +"Who's to be Head Chief?"</p> +<p> +Blackhawk had no notion of submitting to +Woodpecker, whom he had licked, nor would Woodpecker +accept a Chief of the inferior tribe. One +suggested that Little Beaver be Chief, but out of +loyalty to his friend, the Woodpecker, Yan declined.</p> +<p> +"Better leave that for a few days till you get +acquainted," was the Medicine Man's wise suggestion.</p> +<p> +That day and the next were spent in camp. The +Boilers had their teepee to make and beds to prepare. +The Sangers merrily helped, making a "bee" of it.</p> +<p> +Bow and arrow making were next to do. Little +Beaver had not fully replaced his own destroyed by +the robber. A hunt of the Burlap Deer was a pleasant +variation of the second day, though there were but +two bows for all, and the Boilers began to realize +that they were really far behind the Sangers in +<span class="left"><a name="501">501</a></span> +knowledge of Woodcraft.</p> +<p> +At swimming Blackhawk was easily first. Of +course, this greatly increased his general interest in +the swimming-pond, and he chiefly was responsible +for the making of a canoe later on.</p> +<p> +The days went on right merrily—oh, so fast! +Little Beaver showed all the things of interest in +his kingdom. How happy he was in showing them—playing +experienced guide as he used to dream it! +Peetweet took a keen interest; so did the city boy. +Char-less took a little interest in it all, helped a little, +was generally a little in everything, and giggled +a good deal. Hawkeye was disposed to bully +Char-less, since he found him quite lickable. His +tone was high and haughty when he spoke to +him—not at all like his whining when addressing +the others. He volunteered to discipline Char-less +if he should ill-treat any of the others, and was +about to administer grievous personal punishment +for some trifling offense, when Blackhawk gave +him a warning that had good effect.</p> +<p><img src="images/sketch279.gif" alt="the Boilers' teepee" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="147" height="153" border="0" /> +Yan's note-book was fully discussed and his drawings +greatly admired. He set to work at once with +friendly enthusiasm to paint the Boilers' teepee. +Not having any adventures that seemed important, +except, perhaps, Blackhawk's defeat of Woodpecker +and Little Beaver, subjects that did not interest the +artist, the outside decorations were the totem of +the clan and its members.</p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="502">502</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXVIII">XXVIII</a></h3> +<h3>White-Man's Woodcraft</h3> + +<p> +Blackhawk was the introducer of a new +game which he called "judging."</p> +<p> +"How far is it from here to that tree?" he +would ask, and when each had written down his guess +they would measure, and usually it was Woodpecker +or Blackhawk that came nearest to the truth. Guy +still held the leadership "for far sight," for which +reason he suggested that game whenever a change +of amusement was wanted.</p> +<p> +Yan, following up Blackhawk's suggestion, brought +in the new game of "White-man's Woodcraft."</p> +<p> +"Can you," asked he, "tell a Dog's height by its +track?"</p> +<p> +"No; nor you nor any one else," was the somewhat +scornful reply.</p> +<p> +"Oh, yes, I can. Take the length in inches of his +forefoot track, multiply it by 8, and that gives +his height at the shoulder. You try it and you'll +see. A little Dog has a 2¼ inch foot and stands +about 18 inches, a Sheep Dog with a 3-inch track +stands 24 inches, and a Mastiff or any big Dog +with a 4-inch track gives 30 to 32 inches."</p> +<p> +"You mean every Dog is 8 feet high?" drawled +Sam, doubtfully, but Yan went on. "And you can +tell his weight, too, by the track. You multiply +<span class="left"><a name="503">503</a></span> +the width of his forefoot in inches by the length, +and multiply that by 5, and that gives pretty near +his weight in pounds. I tried old Cap. His foot +is 3½ by 3; that equals 10½, multiplied by 5 +equals 52½ pounds: just about right."</p> +<p> +"I'll bet I seen a Dog at the show that that wouldn't +work on," drawled Sam. "He was as long as my +two arms, he had feet as big as a young Bear, an' +he wasn't any higher than a brick. He was jest +about the build of a Caterpiller, only he didn't have +but four legs at the far ends. They was so far +apart he couldn't keep step. He looked like he was +raised under a bureau. I think when they was cutting +down so on his legs they might have give him +more of them; a row in the middle would 'a' been +'bout right."</p> +<p> +"Yes, I know him. That's a Dachshund. But you +can't reckon on freaks; nothing but straight Dog. +It works on wild animals, too—that is, on Wolves +and Foxes and maybe other things," then changing +the subject Beaver continued:</p> +<img src="images/489.gif" alt="dachshund" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="203" height="104" border="0" /> +<p> +"Can you tell the height of a tree by its shadow?"</p> +<p> +"Never thought of that. How do you do it?"</p> +<p> +"Wait till your own shadow is the same length as +yourself—that is, about eight in the morning or four +in the afternoon—then measure the tree's shadow. +That gives its length."</p> +<p> +"You'd have to wait all day to work that, and you +can't do it at all in the woods or on a dull day," +objected Blackhawk. "I'd rather do it by guess."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="504">504</a></span> +"I'll bet my scalp against yours I can tell the +height of that tree right now without climbing it, +and get closer than you can by guessing," said +Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"No, I won't bet scalps on that—but I'll bet who's +to wash the dishes."</p> +<p> +"All right. To the top of that tree, how much +is it?"</p> +<p> +"Better not take the top, 'cause we can't get there +to measure it, but say that knot," was the rejoinder. +"Here, Woodpecker, you be judge."</p> +<p> +"No, I want to be in this guessing. The loser +takes the next turn of dishwashing for each of the +others."</p> +<p> +So Blackhawk studied the knot carefully and wrote +down his guess—Thirty-eight feet.</p> +<p> +Sam said, "Blackhawk! Ground's kind of uneven. +I'd like to know the exact spot under the tree that +you'd measure to. Will you mark it with a peg?"</p> +<p> +So Blackhawk went over and put in a white peg, +at the same time unwittingly giving Woodpecker +what he wanted—a gauge, for he knew Blackhawk +was something more than five feet high; judging then +as he stood there Sam wrote down Thirty-five feet.</p> +<p> +Now it was Yan's turn to do it by "White-man's +Woodcraft," as he called it. He cut a pole exactly +ten feet long, and choosing the smoothest ground, he +walked about twenty yards from the tree, propped +the pole upright, then lay down so that his eye +was level with the tree base and in line with the +top of the pole and the knot on the tree.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/504c.gif" width="400" height="235" alt="...the height of the knot" border="0" /></p> + <p>A peg +<span class="left"><a name="505">505</a></span> +marked the spot.</p> +<p> +Now he measured from this "eye peg" to the foot +of the pole; it was 31 feet. Then from the eye peg +to the peg under the tree; it was 87 feet. Since +the 10-foot pole met the line at 31 feet, then 31 +is to 10 as 87 is to the tree—or 28 feet. Now one of +the boys climbed and measured the height of the +knot. It was 29 feet, and Yan had an easy victory.</p> +<p> +"Here, you close guessers, do you want another +try, and I'll give you odds this time, if you come +within ten feet you'll win. I want only two feet to +come and go on."</p> +<p> +"All right. Pick your trees."</p> +<p> +"'Tisn't a tree this time, but the distance across +that pond, from this peg (H) to that little +Hemlock (D). You put down your guesses and I'll +show you another trick."</p> +<p> +Sam studied it carefully and wrote Forty feet. +Wes put down Forty-five.</p> +<p> +"Here, I want to be in this. I'll show you fellers +how," exclaimed Guy in his usual scornful manner, +and wrote down Fifty feet.</p> +<p> +"Let's all try it for scalps," said Char-less, but this +was ruled too unimportant for scalps, and again the +penalty of failure was dishwashing, so the other boys +came and put down their guesses close to that of their +Chief—Forty-four, Forty-six and Forty-nine feet.</p> +<p> +"Now we'll find out exactly," and Little Beaver, +with an air of calm superiority, took three straight +poles of exactly the same length and pegged them +<span class="left"><a name="506">506</a></span> +together in a triangle, leaving the pegs sticking up. +He placed this triangle on the bank at <i>A B C</i>, +sighting the line <i>A B</i> for the little Hemlock <i>D</i>, and +put three pegs in the ground exactly under the three +pegs where the triangle was; moved the triangle to +<i>E F G</i> and placed it so that <i>F G</i> should line with +<i>A C</i> and <i>E G</i> with <i>D</i>. Now <i>A G D</i> also must be +an equilateral triangle; therefore, according to +arithmetic, the line <i>D H</i> must be seven-eighths of <i>A G. +A G</i> was easily measured—70 feet. Seven-eighths of +70 equals 61-1/4 feet. The width of the pond—they +measured it with tape line—was found to be 60 +feet, so Yan was nearest, but Guy claimed that 50 +feet was within 10 feet of it, which was allowed. +Thus there were two winners—two who escaped dishwashing; +and Hawkeye's bragging became insufferable. +He never again got so close in a guess, but no number +of failures could daunt him after such a success.</p> +<img src="images/492a2.gif" alt="distance across the pond" width="300" height="234" border="0" align="left" hspace="20"/> + +<p> +Sam was interested in the White-man's Woodcraft +chiefly on Yan's account, but Blackhawk was evidently +impressed with the study itself, and said:</p> +<p> +"Little Beaver, I'll give you one more to do. Can +you measure how far apart those two trees are on +that bank, without crossing?"</p> +<p> +"Yes," said Yan; "easily." So he cut three poles +6, 8 and 10 feet long and pegged them together in a +triangle. "Now," said he, "<i>A B C</i> +is a right angle; it must be, when the legs of the +triangle are 6, 8 and 10; that's a law."</p> + +<p><span class="left"><a name="507">507</a></span> +He placed this on the shore, the side <i>A B</i> pointing to +the inner side of the first tree, and the side <i>B C</i> as nearly +as possible parallel with the line between the two +trees. Then he put in a stake at <i>B</i>, another at <i>C</i>, +and continued this line toward <i>K</i>. Now he slid his +triangle along this till the side <i>G F</i> pointed to <i>E</i>, and +the side <i>H G</i> in line with <i>C B</i>. The distance from +<i>D</i> to <i>E</i>, of course, is equal to <i>B G</i>, which can be +measured, and again the tape line showed Yan to +be nearly right.</p> +<p> +This White-man's Woodcraft was easy for him, +and he volunteered to teach the other Indians, but +they thought it looked "too much like school." They +voted him a <i>coup</i> on finding how well he could +do it. But when Raften heard of it he exclaimed +in wonder and admiration, "My, but that's mightiful!" +and would not be satisfied till the <i>coup</i> was +made a <i>grand coup</i>.</p> +<p> +"Say, Beaver," said Woodpecker sadly, harking +back, "if a Dog's front foot is 3-1/2 inches long and +3 inches wide, what colour is the end of his tail?"</p> +<p> +"White," was the prompt reply; "'cause a Dog +with feet that size and shape is most likely to be a +yaller Dog, and a yaller Dog always has some white +hairs in the end of his tail."</p> +<p> +"Well, this 'un hadn't, 'cause his tail was cut off +in the days of his youth!"</p><br /><br /> +<img src="images/493d.gif" width="500" height="274" alt="distance between two trees across the creek" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="508">508</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXIX">XXIX</a></h3> +<h3>The Long Swamp</h3> + +<p> +The union of the tribes, however, was far from +complete. Blackhawk was inclined to be turbulent. +He was heavier than Beaver. He could +not understand how that slighter, younger boy could +throw him, and he wished to try again. Now Yan +was growing stronger every day. He was quick +and of very wiry build. In the first battle, which +was entirely fisty, he was worsted; on the try-over, +which cost him such an effort, he had arranged "a +rough-and-tumble," as they called it, and had won +chiefly by working his only trick. But now Blackhawk +was not satisfied, and while he did not care to +offer another deadly challenge, by way of a feeler he +offered, some days after the peace, to try a friendly +throw for scalps.</p> +<p> +"Fists left out!" Just what Beaver wanted, +and the biggest boy was sent flying. "If any other +Boiler would like to try I'd be pleased to oblige him," +said Yan, just a little puffed up, as he held up the +second scalp he had won from Blackhawk.</p> +<p> +Much to his surprise, Bluejay, the city boy, +accepted, and he was still more surprised when the +city boy sent <i>him</i> down in the dust.</p> +<p> +"Best out of three!" shouted Woodpecker quickly, +in the interest of his friend, taking advantage of an +<span class="left"><a name="509">509</a></span> +unwritten law that when it is not stated to be in +one try, usually called "sudden death," it is "best +two out of three" that counts.</p> +<p> +Yan knew now that he had found a worthy foe. +He dodged, waiting for an opening—gripped—locked—and +<img src="images/sketch285.gif" width="129" height="318" alt="Little Beaver's collection of scalps" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +had him on the hip, he thought, but the +city boy squirmed in time, yielding instead of resisting, +and both went down tight-gripped. For a +minute it was doubtful.</p> +<p> +"Go it, Yan."</p> +<p> +"Give it to him, Bluejay."</p> +<p> +But Yan quickly threw out one leg, got a little +purchase, and turned the city boy on his back.</p> +<p> +"Hooray for Little Beaver!"</p> +<p> +"One try more! So far even!" cried Blackhawk.</p> +<p> +They closed again, but Yan was more than ever +careful. The city boy was puffing hard. The real +trial was over and Cy went down quite easily.</p> +<p> +"Three cheers for Little Beaver!" A fourth +scalp was added to his collection, and Sam patted +him on the back, while Bluejay got out a pocket +mirror and comb and put his hair straight.</p> +<p> +But this did not help out in the matter of leadership, +and when the Medicine Man heard of the +continued deadlock he said:</p> +<p> +"Boys, you know when there is a doubt about who +is to lead the only way is for all Chiefs to resign and +have a new election." The boys acted on this suggestion +but found another deadlock. Little Beaver +refused to be put up. Woodpecker got three votes, +<span class="left"><a name="510">510</a></span> +Blackhawk four, and Guy one (his own), and the +Sangers refused to stand by the decision.</p> +<p> +"Let's wait till after the 'hard trip'—that will +show who is the real Chief—then have a new election," +suggested Little Beaver, with an eye to Woodpecker's +interest, for this hard trip was one that had +been promised them by Caleb—a three-days' expedition +in the Long Swamp.</p> +<p> +This swamp was a wild tract, ten miles by thirty, +that lay a dozen miles north of Sanger. It was +swampy only in parts, but the dry places were mere +rocky ridges, like islands in the bogs. The land on +these was worthless and the timber had been ruined +by fire, so Long Swamp continued an uninhabited +wilderness.</p> +<p> +There was said to be a few Deer on the hardwood +ridges. Bears and Lynx were occasionally seen, +and Wolves had been heard in recent winters. Of +course there were Foxes, Grouse and Northern +Hare. The streams were more or less choked with +logs, but were known to harbour a few Beavers and +an occasional Otter. There were no roads for summer +use, only long, dim openings across the bogs, +known as winter trails and timber roads. This +was the region that the boys proposed to visit +under Caleb's guidance.</p> +<p> +Thus at last they were really going on an "Indian +trip"—-to explore the great unknown, with every +probability of adventure.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="511">511</a></span> +At dawn Yan tapped the tom-tom. It sang a +<img src="images/sketch286.gif" width="139" height="150" alt="Quaking Aspen" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +high and vibrant note, in guarantee of a sunny day.</p> +<p> +They left camp at seven in the morning, and after +three hours' tramp they got to the first part of the +wilderness, a great tract of rocky land, disfigured +with blackened trees and stumps, but green in places +with groves of young Poplars or quaking Aspen.</p> +<p> +The Indians were very ready to camp now, but the +Medicine Man said, "No; better keep on till we +find water." In another mile they reached the first +stretch of level Tamarack bog and a welcome halt +for lunch was called. "Camp!" shouted the leader, +and the Indians ran each to do his part. Sam got +wood for the fire and Blackhawk went to seek water, +and with him was Blue jay, conspicuous in a high +linen collar and broad cuffs, for Caleb unfortunately +had admitted that he once saw an Indian Chief in +high hat and stand-up collar.</p> +<p> +Beaver was just a little disappointed to see the +Medicine Man light the fire with a match. He +wanted it all in truly Indian style, but the Trapper +remarked, "Jest as well to have some tinder and a +thong along when you're in the woods, but matches +is handier than rubbing-sticks."</p> +<p> +Blackhawk and Bluejay returned with two pails of +dirty, tepid, swampy water.</p> +<p> +"Why, that's all there is!" was their defense.</p> +<p> +"Yan, you go and show them how to get good +water," said Caleb, so the Second Sanger Chief, +remembering his training, took the axe and quickly +made a wooden digger, then went to the edge of the +<span class="left"><a name="512">512</a></span> +swamp, and on the land twenty feet from the bog +he began to dig a hole in the sandy loam. He made +it two feet across and sunk it down three feet. The +roily water kept oozing in all around, and Bluejay +was scornful. "Well, I'd rather have what we got." +Beaver dug on till there was a foot of dirty water +in the hole. Then he took a pail and bailed it all +out as fast as possible, left it to fill, bailed it out +a second time, and ten minutes later cautiously +dipped out with a cup a full pail of crystal-clear cold +water, and thus the Boilers learned how to make an +Indian well and get clear water out of a dirty puddle.</p><br /> +<img src="images/sketch287a.gif" width="180" height="300" alt="If you get lost, make two smokes" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +<p> +After their simple meal of tea, bread and meat +Caleb told his plan. "You never get the same good +of a trip if you jest wander off; better have a plan—something +to do; and do it without a guide if ye want +adventures. Now eight is too many to travel together; +you'd scare everything with racket and never see a +livin' thing. Better divide in parties. I'll stay in +camp and get things ready for the night."</p> +<p> +Thus the leaders, Sam and Yan, soon found themselves +paired with Guy and Peetweet. Wes felt +bound to take care of his little cousin Char-less.</p> +<p> +Bluejay, finding himself the odd man, decided to +stay with Caleb, especially as the swamp evidently +was without proper footpaths.</p> +<p> +"Now," said Caleb, "northwest of here there is +a river called the Beaver, that runs into Black +River. I want one of you to locate that. It's thirty +or forty feet wide and easy to know, for it's the +<span class="left"><a name="513">513</a></span> +only big stream in the swamp. Right north there +is an open stretch of plain, with a little spring creek, +where there's a band of Injuns camped. Somewhere +northeast they say there's a tract of Pine bush +not burned off, and there is some Deer there. None +of the places is ten miles away except, maybe, the +Injuns' camp. I want ye to go scoutin' and report. +You kin draw straws to say who goes where."</p> +<img src="images/sketch288.gif" alt="camp" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="301" height="106" border="0" /> +<br /> +<p> +So the straws were marked and drawn. Yan drew +the timber hunt. He would rather have had the one +after the Indians. Sam had to seek the river, and +Wesley the Indian camp. Caleb gave each of them +a few matches and this parting word:</p> +<p> +"I'll stay here till you come back. I'll keep up +a fire, and toward sundown I'll make a smoke with +rotten wood and grass so you kin find your way back. +Remember, steer by the sun; keep your main lines of +travel; don't try to remember trees and mudholes; +and if you get lost, you make <i>two smokes</i> well apart +and stay right there and holler every once in awhile; +some one will be sure to come."</p> +<p> +So about eleven o'clock the boys set out eagerly. +As they were going Blackhawk called to the others, +"First to carry out his job wins a <i>grand coup</i>!"</p> +<p> +"Let the three leaders stake their scalps," said the +Woodpecker.</p> +<p> +"All right. First winner home gets a scalp from +each of the others and saves his own."</p> +<p> +"Say, boys, you better take along; your hull outfit, +some grub an' your blankets," was the Medicine +<span class="left"><a name="514">514</a></span> +Man's last suggestion. "You may have to stay out +all night."</p> +<p> +Yan would rather have had Sam along, but that +couldn't be, and Peetweet proved a good fellow, +though rather slow. They soon left the high ground +and came to the bog—flat and seemingly endless and +with a few tall Tamaracks. There were some Cedar-birds +catching Flies on the tall tree-tops, and a single +Flycatcher was calling out: "<i>Whoit—whoit—whoit!</i>" +Yan did not know until long after that it was the +Olive-side. A Sparrow-hawk sailed over, and later +a Bald Eagle with a Sparrow-hawk in hot and noisy +pursuit. But the most curious thing was the surface +of the bog. The spongy stretch of moss among the +scattering Tamaracks was dotted with great masses +of Pitcher Plant, and half concealed by the curious +leaves were thousands of Droseræ, or fly-eating +plants, with their traps set to secure their prey.</p> +<p> +The bog was wonderful, but very bad walking. +The boys sank knee-deep in the soft moss, and as +they went farther, steering only by the sun, they +found the moss sank till their feet reached the water +below and they were speedily wet to the knees. Yan +cut for each a long pole to carry in the hand; in case +the bog gave way this would save them from sinking. +After two miles of this Peetweet wanted to go back, +but was scornfully suppressed by Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +Shortly afterward they came to a sluggish little +stream in the bog with a peculiar red-and-yellow +scum along its banks. It was deep and soft-bottomed. +<span class="left"><a name="515">515</a></span> +Yan tried it with the pole—did not dare to wade, so +they walked along its course till they found a small +tree lying from bank to bank, then crossed on this. +Half a mile farther on the bog got dryer, and a mass +of green ahead marked one of the islands of high +land. Over this they passed quickly, keeping the +northwest course. They now had a succession of +small bogs and large islands. The sun was hot here, +and Peetweet was getting tired. He was thirsty, +too, and persisted in drinking the swamp water whenever +he found a hole.</p> +<p> +"Say, Peetweet, you'll suffer for that if you don't +quit; that water isn't fit to drink unless you boil it."</p> +<p> +But Peetweet complained of burning thirst and +drank recklessly. After two hours' tramp he was +very tired and wanted to turn back. Yan sought a +dry island and then gathered sticks for a fire, but +found all the matches they had were soaking wet +with wading through the bog. Peetweet was much +upset by this, not on account of fire now, but in +case they should be out all night.</p> +<p> +"You wait and see what an Indian does," said +Little Beaver. He sought for a dried Balsam Fir, +cut the rubbing-sticks, made a bow of a slightly bent +branch, and soon had a blazing fire, to Peter's utter +amazement, for he had never seen the trick of making +a fire by rubbing-sticks.</p> +<p> +After drinking some tea and eating a little, Pete +felt more encouraged.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="516">516</a></span> +"We have travelled more than six miles now, I +reckon," said the Chief; "an hour longer and we +shall be in sight of the forest if there is one," and +Yan led off across swamps more or less open and +islands of burned timber.</p> +<p> +Pete began to be appalled by the distance they +were putting between them and their friends. +"What if we should get lost? They never could +find us."</p> +<p> +"We won't get lost," said Yan in some impatience; +"and if we did, what of it? We have only to keep +on straight north or south for four or five hours and +we reach some kind of a settlement."</p> +<p> +After an hour's tramp northeast they came to an +island with a tall tree that had branches right to the +ground. Yan climbed up. A vast extent of country +lay all about him—open flat bogs and timber islands, +and on far ahead was a long, dark mass of solid ever-green—surely +the forest he sought. Between him +and it he saw water sparkling.</p> +<p> +"Oh, Pete, you ought to be up here," he shouted +joyfully; "it's worth the climb to see this view."</p> +<p> +"I'd rather see our own back-yard," grumbled +Pete.</p> +<p> +Yan came down, his face aglow with pleasure, and +exclaimed: "It's close to, now! I saw the Pine +woods. Just off there."</p> +<p> +"How far?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, a couple of miles, at most."</p> +<p> +"That's what you have been saying all along."</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch289.gif" width="395" height="118" alt="How far? Oh, a couple of miles, at most" border="0" /></p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="517">517</a></span> +"Well, I saw it this time; and there is water out +there. I saw that, too."</p> +<p> +He tramped on, and in half an hour they came to +the water, a deep, clear, slow stream, fringed with +scrub willows, covered with lily-pads, and following +the middle of a broad, boggy flat. Yan had looked +for a pond, and was puzzled by the stream. Then +it struck him. "Caleb said there was only one big +stream through this swamp. This must be it. This +is Beaver River."</p> +<p> +The stream was barely forty feet across, but it was +clearly out of the question to find a pole for a bridge, +so Yan stripped off, put all his things in a bundle, +and throwing them over, swam after them. Pete +had to come now or be left.</p> +<p> +As they were dressing on the northern side there +was a sudden loud "<i>Bang—swish</i>!" A torrent +of water was thrown in the air, with lily-pads broken +from their mooring, the water pattered down, the +wavelets settled, and the boys stood in astonishment +to see what strange animal had made this disturbance; +but nothing more of it was seen, and the mystery +remained unsolved.</p> +<p> +Then Yan heard a familiar "<i>Quack!</i>" down the +stream. He took his bow and arrow, while Pete sat +gloomily on a hummock. As soon as he peered +through the rushes in a little bay he saw three Mallard +close at hand. He waited till two were in line, then +fired, killing one instantly, and the others flew away. +<br /> +<img src="images/sketch290.gif" alt="the Beaver River" hspace="15" style="float: right" width="392" height="194" border="0" /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +The breeze wafted it within reach of a stick, and he +seized it and returned in triumph to Pete, but found +<span class="left"><a name="518">518</a></span> +him ready to cry. "I want to go home!" he said +miserably. The sight of the Mallard cheered him +a little, and Yan said: "Come now, Pete, don't +spoil everything, there's a good fellow. Brace up, +and if I don't show you the Pine woods in twenty +minutes I'll turn and take you home."</p> +<p> +As soon as they got to the next island they saw +the Pine wood—a solid green bank not half a mile +away, and the boys gave a little cheer, and felt, no +doubt, as Mungo Park did when first he sighted the +Niger. In fifteen minutes they were walking in its +dry and delightful aisles.</p> +<p> +"Now we've won," said Yan, "whatever the others +do, and all that remains is to get back."</p> +<p> +"I'm awfully tired," said Pete; "let's rest awhile."</p> +<p> +Yan looked at his watch. "It's four o'clock. I +think we'd better camp for the night."</p> +<p> +"Oh, no; I want to go home. It looks like rain."</p> +<p> +It certainly did, but Yan replied, "Well, let's eat +first." He delayed as much as possible so as to compel +the making of a camp, and the rain came unexpectedly, +before he even had a fire. Yet to his own delight +and Peter's astonishment he quickly made a rubbing-stick +fire, and they hung up their wet clothes +about it. Then he dug an Indian well and took lots +of time in the preparation, so it was six o'clock before +they began to eat, and seven when finished—evidently +too late to move out even though the rain seemed to +be over. So Yan collected firewood, made a bed of +Fir boughs and a windbreak of bushes and bark. The +<span class="left"><a name="519">519</a></span> +weather was warm, and with the fire and two blankets +they passed a comfortable night. They heard their +old friend the Horned Owl, a Fox barked his querulous +"<i>Yap-yurr!</i>" close at hand, and once or twice they +were awakened by rustling footsteps in the leaves, +but slept fairly well.</p> +<p> +At dawn Yan was up. He made a fire and heated +some water for tea. They had very little bread left, +but the Mallard was untouched.</p> +<p> +Yan cleaned it, rolled it in wet clay, hid it in the +ashes and covered it with glowing coals. This is an +Indian method of cooking, but Yan had not fully +mastered it. In half an hour he opened his clay pie +and found the Duck burned on one side and very raw +on the other. Part of it was good, however, so he +called his companion to breakfast. Pete sat up white-faced +and miserable, evidently a sick boy. Not only +had he caught cold, but he was upset by the swamp +water he had taken. He was paying the penalty +of his indiscretion. He ate a little and drank some +tea, then felt better, but clearly was unable to travel +that day. Now for the first time Yan felt a qualm +of fear. Separated by a dozen miles of swamp from +all help, what could he do with a sick boy? He +barked a small dead tree with a knife, then on the +smooth surface wrote with a pencil, "Yan Yeoman +and Pete Boyle camped here August 10, 18—"</p> + +<img src="images/506b.gif" alt="High tree and view" width="289" height="356" border="0" align="left" hspace="20" /> + +<p> +He made Pete comfortable by the fire, and, looking +for tracks, he found that during the night two Deer +had come nearly into the camp; then he climbed a +<span class="left"><a name="520">520</a></span> +high tree and scanned the southern horizon for a +smoke sign. He saw none there, but to the northwest, +beyond some shining yellow hills, he discovered +a level plain dotted over with black Fir clumps; from +one of these smoke went up, and near it were two or +three white things like teepees.</p> +<p> +Yan hurried down to tell Pete the good news, but +when he confessed that it was two miles farther from +home Pete had no notion of going to the Indian camp; +so Yan made a smoke fire, and knife-blazing the +saplings on two sides as he went, he set out alone for +the Indian camp. Getting there in half an hour, he +found two log shanties and three teepees. As he +came near he had to use a stick to keep off the numerous +Dogs. The Indians proved shy, as usual, to +White visitors. Yan made some signs that he had +learned from Caleb. Pointing to himself, he held up +two fingers—meaning that he was two. Then he +pointed to the Pine woods and made sign of the other +lying down, and added the hungry sign by pressing +in his stomach with the edges of the hands, meaning +"I am cut in two here." The Chief Indian offered +him a Deer-tongue, but did not take further interest. +Yan received it thankfully, made a hasty sketch of +the camp, and returned to find Pete much better, +but thoroughly alarmed at being so long alone. He +was able and anxious now to go back. Yan led off, +carrying all the things of the outfit, and his comrade +followed slowly and peevishly. When they came to +the river, Pete held back in fear, believing that the +<span class="left"><a name="521">521</a></span> +loud noise they had heard was made by some monster +of the deep, who would seize them.</p> +<p> +Yan was certain it could be only an explosion of +swamp gas, and forced Pete to swim across by setting +the example. What the cause really was they never +learned.</p> +<p> +They travelled very fast now for a time. Pete +was helped by the knowledge that he was really going +home. A hasty lunch of Deer-tongue delayed them +but little. At three they sighted Caleb's smoke signal, +and at four they burst into camp with yells of triumph.</p> +<p> +Caleb fired off his revolver, and Turk bayed his +basso profundo full-cry Fox salute. All the others +had come back the night before.</p> +<p> +Sam said he had "gone ten mile and never got a +sight of that blamed river." Guy swore they had +gone forty miles, and didn't believe there was any +such river.</p> +<p> +"What kind o' country did you see?"</p> +<p> +"Nothin' but burned land and rocks."</p> +<p> +"H-m, you went too far west—was runnin' parallel +with Beaver River."</p> +<p> +"Now, Blackhawk, give an account of yourself to +Little Beaver," said Woodpecker. "Did you two +win out?"</p> +<p> +"Well," replied the Boiler Chief, "if Hawkeye +travelled forty miles, we must have gone sixty. We +pointed straight north for three hours and never saw +a thing but bogs and islands of burned timber—never +a sign of a plain or of Indians. I don't believe there +<span class="left"><a name="522">522</a></span> +are any."</p> +<p> +"Did you see any sandhills?" asked Little Beaver.</p> +<p> +"No."</p> +<p> +"Then you didn't get within miles of it."</p> +<p> +Now he told his own story, backed by Pete, and he +was kind enough to leave out all about Peetweet's +whimpering. His comrade responded to this by +giving a glowing account of Yan's Woodcraft, especially +dwelling on the feat of the rubbing-stick fire in +the rain, and when they finished Caleb said:</p> +<p> +"Yan, you won, and you more than won, for you +found the green timber you went after, you found +the river Sam went after, an' the Injuns Wesley went +after. Sam and Wesley, hand over your scalps."</p> +<p class="indent2"> +<img src="images/sketch292.gif" alt="Little Beaver's collection of scalps" width="182" height="310" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="523">523</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXX">XXX</a></h3> +<h3>A New Kind of Coon</h3> + +<p> +A merry meal now followed, chaffing and jokes +passed several hours away, but the boys were +rested and restless by nine o'clock and eager +for more adventures.</p> +<p> +"Aren't there any Coons 'round here, Mr. Clark?"</p> +<p> +"Oh, I reckon so. Y-e-s! Down a piece in the +hardwood bush near Widdy Biddy Baggs's place +there's lots o' likely Cooning ground."</p> +<p> +That was enough to stir them all, for the place +was near at hand. Peetweet alone was for staying +in camp, but when told that he might stay and keep +house by himself he made up his mind to get all the +fun he could. The night was hot and moonless, +Mosquitoes abundant, and in trampling and scrambling +through the gloomy woods the hunters had +plenty of small troubles, but they did not mind that +so long as Turk was willing to do his part. Once or +twice he showed signs of interest in the trail, but soon +decided against it.</p> +<p><img src="images/510.gif" width="135" height="274" alt="the muddy puddle" border="0" align="left" hspace="15" /> +Thus they worked toward the Widdy Baggs's till +they came to a dry brook bed. Turk began at once +to travel up this, while Caleb tried to make him go +down. But the Dog recognized no superior officer +when hunting. After leading his impatient army a +quarter of a mile away from the really promising +<span class="left"><a name="524">524</a></span> + +heavy timber, Turk discovered what <i>he</i> was after, and +that was a little muddy puddle. In this he calmly +lay down, puffing, panting and lapping with energy, +and his humble human followers had nothing to +do but sit on a log and impatiently await his lordship's +pleasure. Fifteen minutes went by, and Turk +was still enjoying himself, when Sam ventured at +last:</p> +<p> +"'Pears to me if I owned a Dog I'd own him."</p> +<p> +"There's no use crowdin' him," was the answer. +"He's runnin' this hunt, an' he knows it. A Dog +without a mind of his own is no 'count."</p> +<p> +So when Turk had puffed like a Porpoise, grunted +and wallowed like a Hog, to his heart's content and +to the envy of the eight who sat sweltering and +impatient, he arose, all dribbling ooze, probably to +seek a new wallowing place, when his nose discovered +something on the bank that had far more effect than +all the coaxings and threats of the "waiting line," +and he gave a short bark that was a note of joy for +the boys. They were all attention now, as the old +Hound sniffed it out, and in a few moments stirred the +echoes with an opening blast of his deepest strain.</p> +<p> +"Turk's struck it rich!" opined Caleb.</p> +<p> +The old Dog's bawling was strong now, but not +very regular, showing that the hunted animal's +course was crooked. Then there was a long break +in it, showing possibly that the creature had run a +fence or swung from one tree to another.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="525">525</a></span> +"That's a Coon," said Yan eagerly, for he had not +forgotten any detail of the other lesson.</p> +<p> +Caleb made no reply.</p> +<p> +The Hound tongued a long way off, but came back +to the pond and had one or two checks.</p> +<p> +"It's a great running for a Coon," Yan remarked, +at length in doubt. Then to Caleb, "What do you +think?"</p> +<p> +Caleb answered slowly: "I dunno what to think. +It runs too far for a Coon, an' 'tain't treed yet; an' +I kin tell by the Dog's voice he's mad. If you was +near him now you'd see all his back hair stannin' up."</p> +<p> +Another circle was announced by the Dog's baying, +and then the long, continuous, high-pitched yelping +told that the game was treed at last.</p> +<p> +"Well, that puts Fox and Skunk out of it," said +the Trapper, "but it certainly don't act like a Coon on +the ground."</p> +<p> +"First there gets the Coon!" shouted Blackhawk, +and the boys skurried through the dark woods, +getting many a scratch and fall. As it was, Yan and +Wesley arrived together and touched the tree at the +same moment. The rest came straggling up, with +Char-less last and Guy a little ahead of him. Guy +wanted to relate the full particulars of his latest +glorious victory over Char-less, but all attention +was now on old Turk, who was barking savagely up +the tree.</p> +<p> +"Don't unnerstan' it at all, at all," said Caleb. +"Coony kind o' tree, but Dog don't act Coony."</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="526">526</a></span> +"Let's have a fire," said the Woodpecker, and the +two crowds of boys began each a fire and strove +hard to get theirs first ablaze.</p> +<p> +The firelight reached far up into the night, and +once or twice the hunters thought they saw the +shining eyes of the Coon.</p> +<p> +"Now who's to climb?" asked the Medicine Man.</p> +<p> +"I will, I will," etc., seven times repeated; even +Guy and Char-less chimed in.</p> +<p> +"You're mighty keen hunters, but I want you to +know I can't tell what it is that's up that tree. It +may be a powerful big Coon, but seems to me the Dog +acts a little like it was a Cat, and 'tain't so long since +there was Painter in this county. The fact of him +treeing for Turk don't prove that he's afraid of a +Dog; lots of animals does that 'cause they don't +want to be bothered with his noise. If it's a Cat, +him as climbs is liable to get his face scratched. +Judging by the actions of the Dog, <i>I think it's +something dangerous</i>. Now who wants the job?"</p> +<p> +For awhile no one spoke. Then Yan, "I'll go if +you'll lend me the revolver."</p> +<p> +"So would I," said Wesley quickly.</p> +<p> +"Well, now, we'll draw straws"—and Yan won. +Caleb felled a thin tree against the big one and Yan +climbed as he had done once before.</p> +<p> +There was an absence of the joking and chaffing +that all had kept up when on the other occasion +Yan went after the Coon. There was a tension that +held them still and reached the climber to thrill him +with a weird sense of venturing into black darkness +<span class="left"><a name="527">527</a></span> +to face a fearful and mysterious danger. The +feeling increased as he climbed from the leaning +tree to the great trunk of the Basswood, to lose sight +of his comrades in the wilderness of broad leaves and +twisted tree-arms. The dancing firelight sent shadow-blots +and light-spots in a dozen directions with fantastic +effect. Some of the feelings of the night at +Garney's grave came back to him, but this time +with the knowledge of real danger. A little higher +and he was out of sight of his friends below. The +danger began to appal him; he wanted to go back, and +to justify the retreat he tried to call out, "No Coon +here!" but his voice failed him, and, as he clung to +the branch, he remembered Caleb's words, "There's +nothing ahead of grit, an' grit ain't so much not +bein' scairt as it is goin' straight ahead when you <i>are</i> +scairt." No; he would go on, come what would.</p> +<p> +"Find anything?" drawled a cheery voice below, +just at the right time.</p> +<p> +Yan did not pause to answer, but continued to +climb into the gloom. Then he thought he +heard a Coon snarl above him. He swung to +a higher branch and shouted, "Coon here, all +right!" but the moment he did so a rattling +growl sounded close to him, and looking down +he saw a huge grey beast spring to a large branch +between him and the ground, then come climbing +savagely toward him. As it leaped to a +still nearer place Yan got a dim view of a curious +four-cornered face, shaggy and striped, like the one +<span class="left"><a name="528">528</a></span> +he saw so long ago in Glenyan—it was an enormous <i>Lynx</i>.</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch294.gif" width="153" height="164" alt="the Lynx" border="0" /></p> +<p> +Yan got such a shock that he nearly lost his hold, +but quickly recovering, he braced himself in a crotch, +and got out the revolver just as the Lynx with a fierce +snarl leaped to a side branch that brought it nearly +on a level with him. He nervously cocked the +pistol, and scarcely attempting to sight in the darkness, +he fired and missed. The Lynx recoiled a little +and crouched at the report. The boys below raised a +shout and Turk outdid them all in racket.</p> +<p> +"A Lynx!" shouted Yan, and his voice betrayed +his struggle with fear.</p> +<p> +"Look out!" Caleb called. "You better not let +him get too close."</p> +<p> +The Lynx was growling ferociously. Yan put +forth all his will-power to control his trembling hand, +took more deliberate aim, and fired. The fierce +beast was struck, but leaped wildly at the boy. +He threw up his arm and it buried its teeth in his +flesh, while Yan clung desperately to the tree with +the other arm. In a moment he knew he would be +dragged off and thrown to the ground, yet felt less +fear now than he had before. He clutched for the +revolver with the left hand, but it found only the +fur of the Lynx, and the revolver dropped from his +grasp. Now he was indeed without hope, and dark +fear fell on him.</p> +<span class="left"><a name="530">530</a></span> +<p class="center"><img src="images/illus21a.jpg" width="556" height="739" alt="He nervously fired and missed" border="0" /></p> +<span class="left"><a name="531">531</a></span> +<p> +But the beast was severely wounded. +Its hind quarters were growing heavy. It loosed +its hold of Yan and struggled to get on the limb. +A kick from his right foot upset its balance; it slipped +from the tree and flopped to the ground below, +wounded, but full of fight. Turk rushed at it, but +got a blow from its armed paw that sent him off +howling.</p> +<p> +A surge of reaction came over Yan. He might +have fainted, but again he remembered the Trapper's +words, "Bravery is keeping on even when you <i>are</i> +skairt." He pulled himself together and very +cautiously worked his way back to the leaning tree. +Hearing strange sounds, yells, growls, sounds of +conflict down below, expecting every moment to hear +the Lynx scramble up the trunk again, to finish +him, dimly hearing but not comprehending the +shouts, he rested once at the leaning tree and +breathed freely.</p> +<p> +"Hurry up, Yan, with that revolver," shouted +Blackhawk.</p> +<p> +"I dropped it long ago."</p> +<p> +"Where is it?"</p> +<p> +Yan slid down the sapling without making reply. +The Lynx had gone, but not far. It would have got +away, but Turk kept running around and bothering +it so it could not even climb a tree, and the noise +they made in the thicket was easy to follow.</p> +<p> +"Where's the revolver?" shouted Caleb, with +unusual excitement.</p> +<p> +"I dropped it in the fight."</p> +<p> +"I know. I heard it fall in the bushes," and Sam +soon found it.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="532">532</a></span> +Caleb seized it, but Yan said feebly, "Let me! +Let me! It's my fight!"</p> +<p> +Caleb surrendered the pistol, said "Look out for +the Dog!" and Yan crawled through the bushes till +that dark moving form was seen again. Another +shot and another. The sound of combat died away, +and the Indians raised a yell of triumph—all but +Little Beaver. A giddiness came over him; he +trembled and reeled, and sank down on a root. Caleb +and Sam came up quickly.</p> +<p> +"What's the matter, Yan?"</p> +<p> +"I'm sick—I——"</p> +<p> +Caleb took his arm. It was wet. A match was +struck.</p> +<p> +"Hallo, you're bleeding."</p> +<p> +"Yes, he had me—he caught me up the tree. I—I—thought +I was a goner."</p> +<p> +All interest was now turned from the dead Lynx +to the wounded boy.</p> +<p> +"Let's get him to the water."</p> +<p> +"Guess the camp well is the nearest."</p> +<p> +Caleb and Sam took care of Yan, while the others +brought the Lynx. Yan grew better as they moved +slowly homeward. He told all about the attack +of the Lynx.</p> +<p> +"Gosh! I'd 'a' been scared out o' my wits," said +Sam.</p> +<p> +"Guess I would, too," added Caleb, to the surprise +of the Tribe; "up there, helpless, with a wounded +Lynx—I tell you!"</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="533">533</a></span> +"Well, I <i>was</i> scared—just as scared as I could be," +admitted Yan.</p> +<p> +At camp a blazing fire gave its lurid light. Cold +water was handy and Yan's bleeding arm was laid +bare. He was shocked and yet secretly delighted to +see what a mauling he had got, for his shirt sleeve +was soaked with blood, and the wondering words +of his friends was sweetest music to his ears.</p> +<p> +Caleb and the city boy dressed his wounds, and +when washed they did not look so very dreadful.</p> +<p> +They were too much excited to sleep for an hour +at least, and as they sat about the fire—that they +did not need but would not dream of doing without—Yan +found no lack of enthusiasm in the circle, and +blushed with pleasure to be the hero of the camp. +Guy didn't see anything to make so much fuss about, +but Caleb said, "I knowed it; I always knowed you +was the stuff, after the night you went to Garney's +grave." +<img src="images/sketch295.gif" width="196" height="306" hspace="15" align="right" alt="Garney's Grave" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="534">534</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXXI">XXXI</a></h3> +<h3>On the Old Camp Ground</h3> + +<p> +It was threatening to rain again in the morning and +the Indians expected to tramp home heavy laden +in the wet. But their Medicine Man had a +surprise in store. "I found an old friend not far +from here and fixed it up with him to take us all +home in his wagon." They walked out to the edge +of the rough land and found a farm wagon with +two horses and a driver. They got in, and in little +less than a hour were safely back to the dear old +camp by the pond.</p> +<p> +The rain was over now, and as Caleb left for his +own home he said:</p> +<p> +"Say, boys, how about that election for Head +Chief? I reckon it's due now. Suppose you wait +till to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock an' I'll show +you how to do it."</p> +<p> +That night Yan and his friend were alone in their +teepee. His arm was bound up, and proud he was +of those bandages and delighted with the trifling +red spots that appeared yet on the last layer; but +he was not in pain, nor, indeed, the worse for the +adventure, for, thanks to his thick shirt, there was +no poisoning. He slept as usual till long after +midnight, then awoke in bed with a peculiar feeling +of well-being and clearness of mind. He had no +<span class="left"><a name="535">535</a></span> +bodily sense; he seemed floating alone, not in the +teepee nor in the woods, but in the world—not +dreaming, but wide awake—more awake than ever +in his life before, for all his life came clearly into +view as never before: his stern, religious training; +his father, refined and well-meaning, but blind, +compelling him to embark in a profession to which +he was little inclined, and to give up the one thing +next his heart—his Woodcraft lore.</p> +<p> +Then Raften stepped into view, loud-voiced, +externally coarse, but blessed with a good heart and a +sound head. The farmer suffered sadly in contrast +with the father, and yet Yan had to suppress the +wish that Raften were his father. What had they in +common? Nothing; and yet Raften had given him +two of the dearest things in life. He, the head of +the house, a man of force and success, had treated +Yan with respect. Yan was enough like his own +father to glory in the unwonted taste; and like that +other rugged stranger long ago in Glenyan, Raften +had also given him sympathy. Instead of considering +his Woodcraft pursuits mere trifling, the farmer +had furthered them, and even joined to follow for a +time. The thought of Bonnerton came back. Yan +knew he must return in a year at most; he knew that +his dearest ambition of a college course in zoology +was never to be realized, for his father had told him +he must go as errand boy at the first opening. Again +his rebellious spirit was stirred, to what purpose +he did not know. He would rather stay here on the +<span class="left"><a name="536">536</a></span> +farm with the Raftens. But his early Scriptural +training was not without effect. "Honour thy father +and thy mother" was of lasting force. He felt it +to be a binding duty. He could not rebel if he +would. No, he would obey; and in that resolution +new light came. In taking him from college and +sending him to the farm his father had apparently +cut off his hope of studies next his heart. +Instead of suffering loss by this obedience, he had +come to the largest opportunity of his life.</p> +<p> +Yes! He would go back—be errand boy or anything +to make a living, but in his hours of freedom +he would keep a little kingdom of his own. The road +to it might lie through the cellar of a grocer's shop, +but he would not flinch. He would strive and struggle +as a naturalist. When he had won the insight he +was seeking, the position he sought would follow, for +every event in the woodland life had shown him—had +shown them all, that his was the kingdom of the +Birds and Beasts and the power to comprehend them.</p> +<p> +And he seemed to float, happy in the fading of all +doubt, glad in the sense of victory. There was a +noise outside. The teepee door was forced gently; +a large animal entered. At another time Yan might +have been alarmed, but the uplift of his vision was +on him still. He watched it with curious unalarm. +It gently came to his bed, licked his hand and laid +down beside him. It was old Turk, and this was +the first time he had heeded any of them but Caleb. +<img src="images/sketch296.gif" width="242" height="118" align="right" alt="Turk" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="537">537</a></span> +<h3><a name="3XXXII">XXXII</a></h3> +<h3>The New War Chief</h3> + +<p> +Caleb had been very busy all the day before +doing no one knew what, and Saryann was +busy, too. She had been very busy for long, +but now she was bustling. Then, it seems, Caleb had +gone to Mrs. Raften, and she was very busy, and Guy +made a flying visit to Mrs. Burns, and she had become +busy. Thus they turned the whole neighbourhood +into a "bee."</p> +<p> +For this was Sanger, where small gatherings held +the same place as the club, theatre and newspaper +do in the lives of city folk. No matter what the +occasion, a christening, wedding or funeral, a logging, +a threshing, a home-coming or a parting, the finishing +of a new house or the buying of a new harness +or fanning-mill, any one of these was ample +grounds for one of their "talking bees"; so it was +easy to set the wheels a-running.</p> +<p> +At three o'clock three processions might have +been seen wending through the woods. One was +from Burns's, including the whole family; one from +Raften's, comprising the family and the hired men; +one from Caleb's, made up of Saryann and many of +the Boyles. All brought baskets.</p> +<p> +They were seated in a circle on the pleasant grassy +bank of the pond. Caleb and Sam took charge of the +<span class="left"><a name="538">538</a></span> +ceremonies. First, there were foot-races, in which +Yan won in spite of his wounded arm, the city boy +making a good second; then target-shooting and +"Deer-hunting," that Yan could not take part in. +It was not in the programme, but Raften insisted +on seeing Yan measure the height of a knot in a tree +without going to it, and grinned with delight when +he found it was accurate.</p> +<p> +"Luk at that for eddication, Sam!" he roared. +"When will ye be able to do the like? Arrah, but +ye're good stuff, Yan, an' I've got something here'll +plase ye."</p> +<p> +Raften now pulled out his purse and as magistrate +paid over with evident joy the $5 bounty due for +killing the Lynx. Then he added: "An' if it turns +out as ye all claim" [and it did] "that this yer beast +is the Sheep-killer instid av old Turk, I'll add that +other tin."</p> +<p> +Thus Yan came into the largest sum be had ever +owned in his life.</p> +<p> +Then the Indians went into their teepees. Caleb +set up a stake in the ground and on that a new shield +of wood covered with rawhide; over the rawhide was +lightly fastened a piece of sacking.</p> +<p> +The guests were in a circle around this; at one +side were some skins—Yan's Lynx and Coon—and +the two stuffed Owls.</p> +<p> +Then the drum was heard, "Túm-tum—túm-tum—túm-tum—túm-tum——" +There was a volley of +war-whoops, and out of the teepees dashed the Sanger +<span class="left"><a name="539">539</a></span> +Indians in full war paint.</p> + +<p class="indent2"> +"Ki ki—ki yi—ki yi yi yi<br /> + Ki yi—ki yi—ki yi yi yi!" +</p> +<img src="images/sketch297.gif" width="134" height="203" alt="The Great Woodpecker" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +They danced in exact time to the two-measure of +the drum that was pounded by Blackhawk. Three +times round the central post with the shield they +danced, then the drum stopped, and they joined +in a grand final war-whoop and squatted in a circle +within that of the guests.</p> +<p> +The Great Woodpecker now arose—his mother had +to be told who it was—and made a characteristic +speech:</p> +<p> +"Big Chiefs, Little Chiefs, and Squapooses of the +Sanger Indians: A number of things has happened +to rob this yer nation of its noble Head Chief; they +kin never again expect to have his equal, but this +yer assembly is for to pick out a new one. We had +a kind of whack at it the other day, but couldn't +agree. Since then we had a hard trip, and things +has cleared up some, same as puttin' Kittens in a +pond will tell which one is the swimmer, an' we're +here to-day to settle it."</p> +<p> +Loud cries of "How—how—how—how—" while +Blackhawk pounded the drum vigorously.</p> +<p> +"O' course different ones has different gifts. Now +who in all this Tribe is the best runner? That's +Little Beaver."</p> +<p> +("How—how—how—how—how—" and drum.)</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="540">540</a></span> +"That's my drum, Ma!" said Guy aside, forgetting +to applaud.</p> +<p> +"Who is the best trailer and climber? Little +Beaver, again, I reckon."</p> +<p> +("How—how—how—how—" and drum.)</p> +<p> +("He can't see worth a cent!" whispered Guy to +his mother.)</p> +<p> +"Who was it won the trial of grit at Garney's +grave? Why, it was Little Beaver."</p> +<p> +("An' got pretty badly scared doin' it!" was Guy's +aside.)</p> +<p> +"But who was it shot the Cat-Owl plumb in the +heart, an' fit the Lynx hand to hand, not to speak +of the Coon? Little Beaver every time."</p> +<p> +("He never killed a Woodchuck in his life, Ma!")</p> +<p> +"Then, again, which of us can lay all the others on +his back? Little Beaver, I s'pose."</p> +<p> +("Well, I can lick Char-less, any time," was Guy's +aside.)</p> +<p> +"Which of us has most <i>grand coups</i> and scalps?"</p> +<p> +"Ye're forgittin' his eddication," put in Raften +to be scornfully ignored; even Little Beaver resented +this as un-Indian.</p> +<p> +"Which has most scalps?" Sam repeated with +sternness. "Here's a scalp won in battle with the +inimy," Woodpecker held it up, and the Medicine +Man fastened it on the edge of the shield that hung +from the post. +<img src="images/sketch298.gif" alt="the Shield" width="139" height="180" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /></p> +<p> +"Here is one tuk from the Head Chief of the hostiles," +<span class="left"><a name="541">541</a></span> +and Caleb fastened that to the shield. "Here +is another tuk from the Second Chief of the hostiles," +and Caleb placed it. "Here is one tuk from the Great +Head War Chief of the Sangers, and here is one from +the Head Chief of the Boilers, and another tuk in +battle. Six scalps from six famous warriors. This +yere is the record for the whole Tribe, an' Little +Beaver done it; besides which, he draws pictures, +writes poethry and cooks purty good, an' I say Little +Beaver is the one for Chief! What says the rest?" +and with one voice they shouted, "Hoorah for Little +Beaver!"</p> +<p> +"How—how—how—how—how—<i>thump, thump, +thump, thump</i>."</p> +<p> +"Any feller anything to say agin it?"</p> +<p> +"I eh—" Guy began.</p> +<img src="images/sketch299.gif" width="139" height="339" alt="Little Beaver, the New War Chief" border="0" hspace="15" style="float: right" /> +<p> +—"has got to lick the Chief," Sam continued, +and Guy did not complete his objection, though he +whispered to his mother, "If it was Char-less I bet +I'd show him."</p> +<p> +Caleb now pulled the cover off the shield that he +fastened the scalps to, and it showed the white Buffalo +of the Sangers with a Little Beaver above it. Then +he opened a bundle lying near and produced a gorgeous +war-shirt of buff leather, a pair of leggins and +moccasins, all fringed, beaded and painted, made by +Saryann under Caleb's guidance. They were quickly +put on the new Chief; his war bonnet, splendid with +the plumes of his recent exploits, was all ready; and +proud and happy in his new-found honours, not +least of which were his wounds, he stepped forward.</p> +<p><span class="left"><a name="542">542</a></span> +Caleb viewed him with paternal pride and said: "I +knowed ye was the stuff the night ye went to Garney's +grave, an' I knowed it again when ye crossed +the Big Swamp. Yan, ye could travel anywhere +that man could go," and in that sentence the boy's +happiness was complete. He surely was a Woodcrafter +now. He stammered in a vain attempt to +say something appropriate, till Sam relieved him by: +"Three cheers for the Head War Chief!" and when +the racket was over the women opened their baskets +and spread the picnic feast. Raften, who had been +much gratified by his son's flow of speech, recorded +a new vow to make him study law, but took +advantage of the first gap in the chatter to say:</p> +<p> +"Bhise, ye'r two weeks' holiday with wan week +extension was up at noon to-day. In wan hour an' a +half the Pigs is fed."</p> +<p class="center"><img src="images/sketch300.gif" width="243" height="145" alt="In wan hour an' a half the Pigs is fed" border="0" /></p> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + +<span class="left"><a name="543">543</a></span> +<h2><a name="Index">INDEX</a></h2> +<p class="center"> +<a href="#A">A</a> | <a href="#B">B</a> | <a href="#C">C</a> | <a href="#D">D</a> | +<a href="#E">E</a> | <a href="#F">F</a> | <a href="#G">G</a> | <a href="#H">H</a> | +<a href="#In">I</a> | <a href="#J">J</a> | <a href="#K">K</a> | <a href="#L">L</a> | +<a href="#M">M</a> | <a href="#N">N</a> | <a href="#O">O</a> | <a href="#P">P</a> | +Q | <a href="#R">R</a> | <a href="#S">S</a> | <a href="#T">T</a> | +<a href="#U">U</a> | <a href="#V">V</a> | <a href="#W">W</a> | X | +<a href="#Y">Y</a> | Z</p> +<p class="note">NOTE: The Index entries are linked to the relevant page (or first of consecutive pages). +In most instances, the link is the name. In the case of two or more separate entries for one word, +the link to the later entry/entries is the later page number/s. +</p> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-A" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> + +<span class="right"><a name="A">303</a></span><a href="#303">Arapahoes</a><br /> +<a href="#181">Arrows</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">179-181</span><span class="indent"><a href="#179">How to make</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">187</span><span class="indent"><a href="#187">Individuality of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">179</span><a href="#179">Arrow-wood</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">180</span><span class="indent"><a href="#180">Illustration of</a></span><br /> +<a href="#78">Ash</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">White</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">80</span><span class="indent"><a href="#80">Illustration of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Black</a></span><br /> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-B" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="B">523</a></span><a href="#523">Bagg's, Widdy, place</a><br /> +<span class="right">514</span><a href="#514">Bald Eagle</a><br /> +<span class="right">195</span><a href="#195">Bald-Eagle-Settin'-on-a-Rock-with-his-Tail-Hangin'-over-the-Edge</a><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><a href="#78">Balsam</a><br /> +<span class="right">170, 171, <a href="#255">255</a></span><a href="#170">Balsam-fir</a><br /> +<span class="right">369</span><span class="indent"><a href="#369">Balsam bark, used for tanning</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">255</span><span class="indent"><a href="#255">Boughs for bed</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">171</span><span class="indent"><a href="#171">Wood for rubbing-sticks</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">234</span><span class="indent"><a href="#234">Illustration of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">461, <a href="#467">467</a></span><a href="#461">Banshee, the</a><br /> +<span class="right">170</span><a href="#170">Basswood</a><br /> +<span class="right">450</span><span class="indent"><a href="#450">Usually hollow</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">48</span><span class="indent"><a href="#48">Leaf illustration</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">197</span><a href="#197">Beavering</a><br /> +<span class="right">468</span><a href="#468">Bear hunt</a><br /> +<span class="right">512</span><a href="#512">Beaver River</a><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><a href="#78">Beech</a><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Illustration of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">206</span><span class="indent"><a href="#206">Blue, illustration of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">71-75</span><a href="#71">Biddy</a><br /> +<a href="#78">Birch</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">White</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Black</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">118, <a href="#218">218</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#118">Canoe</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">63, <a href="#196">196</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#63">Dishes</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">218</span><span class="indent"><a href="#218">Mahogany</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">218</span><span class="indent"><a href="#218">Sweet</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">218</span><span class="indent"><a href="#218">Black</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Illustration of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">162</span><a href="#162">Blackbirds, Red-winged</a><br /> +<span class="right">215</span><a href="#215">Blackbird, purple (Jack)</a><br /> +<span class="right">76</span><a href="#76">Black Cherry</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">77</span><span class="indent"><a href="#77">Lung balm</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">As a remedy</a></span><br /> +<a href="#166">Blaze</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">166</span><span class="indent"><a href="#166">Special</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">166</span><span class="indent"><a href="#166">Road</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">232</span><a href="#232">Blood Robin</a><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><a href="#71">Blood Root</a><br /> +<span class="right">197</span><a href="#197">Bloody-Thundercloud-in-the-Afternoon</a><br /> +<span class="right">162</span><a href="#162">Bluebird</a><br /> +<span class="right">316</span><a href="#316">Blue-bottle Flies</a><br /> +<span class="right">316, 317</span><span class="indent"><a href="#316">Plague</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">201</span><a href="#201">Blue Cohosh</a><br /> +<span class="right">456, 457</span><a href="#456">Blue Crane (Heron)</a><br /> +<span class="right">344, <a href="#474">474</a></span><a href="#344">Blue-jay</a><br /> +<span class="right">34, <a href="#64">64</a></span><a href="#34">Bobolink</a><br /> +<span class="right">497</span><a href="#497">Boilers, the</a><br /> +<span class="right">203</span><a href="#203">Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum)</a><br /> +<a href="#58">Bow</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">177</span><span class="indent"><a href="#177">How to make</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">178</span><span class="indent"><a href="#178">Bowstring</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">81</span><a href="#81">Bow-drill Yan makes</a><br /> +<span class="right">171, 172</span><span class="indent"><a href="#171">How to light a fire with</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">105, 106, <a href="#243">243</a></span><a href="#105">Boyle Char-less</a><br /> +<span class="right">219</span><a href="#219">Burns, Guy</a><br /> +<span class="right">220</span><span class="indent"><a href="#220">Is captured by Yan and Sam</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">230</span><span class="indent"><a href="#230">Becomes a member of the tribe</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">289</span><span class="indent"><a href="#289">His stuffed Deer</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">415</span><span class="indent"><a href="#415">His test of courage</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">432</span><span class="indent"><a href="#432">Kills the Woodchuck</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">440</span><span class="indent"><a href="#440">Name changed to Hawkeye</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">42</span><a href="#42">Butterfly, black</a><br /> +<a href="#54">Butternuts</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">54, <a href="#71">71</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#54">Used for dyeing</a></span><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-C" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="C">130</a>, 131, <a href="#141">141</a></span><a href="#131">Caleb Clark</a><br /> +<span class="right">146</span><span class="indent"><a href="#146">His description of a teepee</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">300, <a href="#303">303</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#300">His Indian adventures</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">305</span><span class="indent"><a href="#305">Makes Indian war bonnet</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">308</span><span class="indent"><a href="#308">His standard of a good shot</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">359</span><span class="indent"><a href="#359">He tells Yan how to find his way in the woods</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">366</span><span class="indent"><a href="#366">Shows the boys how to skin a horse</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">368</span><span class="indent"> <a href="#368">and how to tan skin</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">371</span><span class="indent"><a href="#371">How to make moccasins</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">374</span><span class="indent"><a href="#374">His opinion of hunters and hunting</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">427</span><span class="indent"><a href="#427">His marksmanship</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">452</span><span class="indent"><a href="#452">Encounter with Mr. Raften on the coon hunt</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">464</span><span class="indent"><a href="#464">Story of his quarrel with Mr. Raften</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">485</span><span class="indent"><a href="#485">Encounter with Bill Hennard</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">494</span><span class="indent"><a href="#494">Gets possession of his farm</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">110</span><a href="#110">Calfskins, sold by boys</a><br /> +<span class="right">320</span><span class="indent"><a href="#320">Used as drum-heads</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">368</span><span class="indent"><a href="#368">Tanning of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">328</span><a href="#328">Cardinal flowers</a><br /> +<span class="right">329</span><a href="#329">Cat</a><br /> +<span class="right">332</span><span class="indent"><a href="#332">Fight with Skunk</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">342</span><span class="indent"><a href="#342">Adopts young Squirrels</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">378</span><span class="indent"><a href="#378">Is caught in the ketch-alive</a></span><br /> +<a href="#205">Catnip</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">71</span><span class="indent"><a href="#71">Tea</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">205</span><span class="indent"><a href="#205">How it cured the Cat</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78, <a href="#177">177</a></span><a href="#78">Cedar</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">514</span><a href="#514">Cedar-birds</a><br /> +<span class="right">497</span><a href="#497">Char-less (Red-squirrel)</a><br /> +<span class="right">204</span><a href="#204">Chenopodium</a><br /> +<span class="right">350</span><a href="#350">Chipmunk</a><br /> +<span class="right">473</span><span class="indent"><a href="#473">Sam's Chipmunk capture</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">350, <a href="#474">474</a></span><a href="#350">Chickadee, cock</a><br /> +<span class="right">76</span><a href="#76">Choke-cherry</a><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><a href="#78">Clam shells</a><br /> +<span class="right">202</span><a href="#202">Cohosh</a><br /> +<span class="right">207</span><a href="#207">Connor, Kitty</a><br /> +<a href="#443">Coon</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">69</span><span class="indent"><a href="#69">Hairs</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">165, <a href="#443">443</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#165">Hunt</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">66, <a href="#273">273</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#66">Tracks</a></span><br /> +<a href="#170">Cottonwood root</a><br /> +<span class="right">170</span><span class="indent"><a href="#170">Indians use to light fires</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">435</span><a href="#435">Council, the Grand</a><br /> +<span class="right">299, <a href="#303">303</a>, 304, <a href="#308">308</a></span><a href="#299">Coup, Grand</a><br /> +<span class="right">327</span><a href="#327">Cow-bird</a><br /> +<span class="right">349</span><a href="#349">Crawfish</a><br /> +<span class="right">350</span><a href="#350">Creeper</a><br /> +<a href="#79">Crow</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">72</span><span class="indent"><a href="#72">Split tongue</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">79</span><span class="indent"><a href="#79">Common, tracks of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">344</span><a href="#344">Cuckoo, black-billed</a><br /> +<span class="right">201</span><a href="#201">Cypripedium</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-D" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="D">503</a></span><a href="#503">Dachshund</a><br /> +<span class="right">72</span><a href="#72">Daddy Longlegs and the cows</a><br /> +<a href="#188">Dam</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">191</span><span class="indent"><a href="#191">The boys build</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><a href="#71">Dandelion roots</a><br /> +<span class="right">73</span><span class="indent"><a href="#73">Coffee</a></span><br /> +<a href="#288">Deer</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">289</span><span class="indent"><a href="#289">Guy's stuffed</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">294</span><span class="indent"><a href="#294">Shooting game</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">124, 125, <a href="#131">131</a></span><a href="#124">De Neuville, Granny</a><br /> +<span class="right">132</span><span class="indent"><a href="#132">Mr. Raften buys her Pigs</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">133</span><span class="indent"><a href="#133">Her love of flowers and birds</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">136</span><span class="indent"><a href="#136">She prescribes for Sam's leg</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">200, 201, 2O2, 203, 204, 205</span><span class="indent"><a href="#200">Her herb lore</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">208, 209</span><span class="indent"><a href="#208">Her visit from the robbers</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">257</span><a href="#257">Dew-cloth</a><br /> +<span class="right">497</span><a href="#497">Digby, Cyrus, (Blue-jay)</a><br /> +<span class="right">312</span><a href="#312">Dipper</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">88, <a href="#134">134</a>, <a href="#141">141</a></span><a href="#88">Dog</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">502</span><span class="indent"><a href="#502">How to tell height by track</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">103</span><a href="#103">Dogans</a><br /> +<span class="right">423</span><a href="#423">Downey's Dump</a><br /> +<span class="right">514</span><a href="#514">Droseræ (Fly-eating plants)</a><br /> +<span class="right">363</span><a href="#363">Ducks, flock of</a><br /> +<a href="#209">Dyeing</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">54, <a href="#71">71</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#54">With Butternuts</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><span class="indent"><a href="#71">With Hemlock</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><span class="indent"><a href="#71">With Goldthread</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">210</span><span class="indent"><a href="#210">With Goldenrod</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">210</span><span class="indent"><a href="#210">With Berries</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#211">With Pokeweed</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#211">With Elder shoots</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#211">With Oak chips</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#211">With Hickory bark</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#211">With Birch</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#211">With Dogwood</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#211">With Indigo herb</a></span><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-E" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<a href="#303">Eagle Feathers</a><a name="E">—</a><br /> +<span class="right">299</span><span class="indent"><a href="#299">As worn by Indian Warriors</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">81</span><a href="#81">Elderberry-shoot, used for pipestem</a><br /> +<span class="right">77</span><a href="#77">Ellis, Bud, is cured by Lung Balm</a><br /> +<a href="#47">Elm</a>—<br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">74, <a href="#78">78</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#74">Slippery</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Swamp</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">119, <a href="#122">122</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#119">Bark for teepees</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">104</span><a href="#104">Emmy Grants</a><br /> +<span class="right">203</span><a href="#203">Eupatorium perfoliatum (Boneset)</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-F" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="F">62</a>, <a href="#80">80</a>-81, <a href="#167">167</a>-170</span><a href="#62">Fire</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">171, 172</span><span class="indent"><a href="#171">How to light without matches</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">124, <a href="#170">170</a>, <a href="#268">268</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#124">Right woods to use</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">359</span><span class="indent"><a href="#359">Signal</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">351</span><a href="#351">Flicker</a><br /> +<span class="right">475</span><span class="indent"><a href="#475">Illustration of nest</a></span><br /> + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">337</span><a href="#337">Flying-squirrel</a><br /> +<a href="#345">Fox</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">353</span><span class="indent"><a href="#353">His Rabbit hunt</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">447</span><span class="indent"><a href="#447">Callaghan</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">163</span><a href="#163">Frogs</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-G" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="G">203</a></span><a href="#203">Galium</a><br /> +<span class="right">413</span><a href="#413">Garney, Bill, grave of</a><br /> +<span class="right">71, <a href="#74">74</a></span><a href="#71">Ginseng</a><br /> +<a href="#210">Goldenrod</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">210</span><span class="indent"><a href="#210">Used for dyeing</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">360</span><span class="indent"><a href="#360">Usually points north</a></span><br /> + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">201</span><a href="#201">Golden Seal</a> (Hydrastis Canadensis)<br /> +<span class="right">71, <a href="#204">204</a></span><a href="#71">Goldthread</a><br /> +<span class="right">161</span><a href="#161">Graybird</a><br /> +<span class="right">89</span><a href="#89">Grip, the Dog</a><br /> +<span class="right">227</span><a href="#227">Gyascutus</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-H" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<a href="#63">Hawk</a><a name="H">—</a><br /> +<span class="right">64</span><span class="indent"><a href="#64">Sharpshin</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">158</span><span class="indent"><a href="#158">Fight with King-bird</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">346</span><span class="indent"><a href="#346">Chicken</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">351</span><span class="indent"><a href="#351">Red-shouldered</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">64, <a href="#474">474</a>, <a href="#514">514</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#64">Sparrow</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">196</span><a href="#196">Hearne, Samuel</a><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><a href="#71">Hemlock, bark</a><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Tree</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">369</span><span class="indent"><a href="#369">Used for tanning</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">65</span><a href="#65">Henbane</a><br /> +<span class="right">478</span><a href="#478">Hennard, Bill</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">71-75</span><a href="#71">Herb-lore, Biddy's</a><br /> +<span class="right">200-211</span><span class="indent"><a href="#200">Granny's</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">456, 457</span><a href="#456">Heron (Blue Crane)</a><br /> +<span class="right">203</span>"<a href="#203">Highbelier</a>"<br /> +<span class="right">42</span><a href="#42">Hornet, blue</a><br /> +<span class="right">366</span><a href="#366">Horse, how to skin</a><br /> +<a href="#72">Horse-hair</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">72</span><span class="indent"><a href="#72">Turns to a snake</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">232, <a href="#340">340</a></span><a href="#232">Humming-bird</a><br /> +<span class="right">201</span><a href="#201">Hydrastis Canadensis</a> (Golden Seal)<br /> +<span class="right">41</span><a href="#41">Hyla pickeringii</a> (Frog)<br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-I" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<a href="#27">Indian</a><a name="In">—</a><br /> +<span class="right">44</span><span class="indent"><a href="#44">Sense of smell</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">146</span><span class="indent"><a href="#146">Teepees</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">299</span><span class="indent"><a href="#299">Head-dresses</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">300</span><span class="indent"><a href="#300">Telegram of good luck</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">303</span><span class="indent"><a href="#303">Meaning of Eagle feathers</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">305</span><span class="indent"><a href="#305">War bonnet</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">306</span><span class="indent"><a href="#306">Ability to foretell storms</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">309, 310</span><span class="indent"><a href="#309">Games</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">312</span><span class="indent"><a href="#312">Tests of eyes</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">318, <a href="#512">512</a>, <a href="#518">518</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#318">Well</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">320, 321</span><span class="indent"><a href="#320">Drum</a></span><br /> + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">355, 356</span><span class="indent"><a href="#355">Smoke signs</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">356</span><span class="indent"><a href="#356">Trail signs</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">368</span><span class="indent"><a href="#368">Method of tanning skins</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">461</span><span class="indent"><a href="#461">Paints</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">69</span><a href="#69">Indian cucumber</a><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><a href="#71">Indian cup</a><br /> +<a href="#307">Indian squaw</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">195, 196</span><span class="indent"><a href="#195">Yan's story of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">74, <a href="#200">200</a></span><a href="#74">Indian turnips</a><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><a href="#211">Indigo herb</a><br /> +<span class="right">71, <a href="#73">73</a>, <a href="#202">202</a></span><a href="#71">Injun tobacco</a><br /> +<span class="right"> 78</span><a href="#78">Ironwood</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-J" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="J">74</a>, <a href="#200">200</a></span><a href="#74">Jack-in-the-Pulpit</a><br /> +<span class="right">340</span><a href="#340">Jewel-flower</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">328</span><a href="#328">Jewelweed</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-K" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="K">377</a></span><a href="#377">Ketchalive, how to make a</a><br /> +<span class="right">157</span><a href="#157">Kingbird</a><br /> +<span class="right">158</span><span class="indent"><a href="#158">Fight with Hawk</a></span><br /> + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">162, <a href="#346">346</a></span><a href="#162">Kingfishers</a><br /> +<span class="right">201</span><a href="#201">Kingroot</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-L" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="L">177</a></span><a href="#177">Lancewood</a><br /> +<span class="right">206</span><a href="#206">Larry, how he made brooms</a><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><a href="#71">Lavender tea</a><br /> +<span class="right">121, 221</span><a href="#121">Leatherwood</a><br /> +<span class="right">203</span><a href="#203">Lindera Benzoin (Spicebush)</a><br /> +<span class="right">197</span><a href="#197">Little Beaver</a><br /> +<span class="right">41</span><a href="#41">Lizard, Whistling,</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">203</span><a href="#203">Lobelia</a><br /> +<span class="right">510</span><a href="#510">Long Swamp, trip to</a><br /> +<span class="right">363</span><a href="#363">Loon</a><br /> +<span class="right">77</span><a href="#77">Lung Balm</a><br /> +<a href="#88">Lynx</a><br /> +<span class="right">90</span><span class="indent"><a href="#90">Yan meets</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">532</span><span class="indent"><a href="#532">Is killed in Long Swamp</a></span><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-M" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="M">517</a></span><a href="#517">Mallard Duck</a><br /> +<span class="right">201</span><a href="#201">Mandrakes</a><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><a href="#78">Maple</a><br /> +<span class="right">162</span><a href="#162">Martins, Sand</a><br /> +<span class="right">282, <a href="#327">327</a></span><a href="#282">"Massacrees"</a><br /> +<span class="right">201</span><a href="#201">May Apple</a><br /> +<span class="right">273, <a href="#341">341</a>, <a href="#346">346</a></span><a href="#273">Mink</a><br /> +<span class="right">348</span><span class="indent"><a href="#348">Kills Muskrat</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">373</span><span class="indent"><a href="#373">How to catch</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">247</span><a href="#247">Minnie, makes peace between Yan and Sam</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">346</span><a href="#346">Minnow</a><br /> +<span class="right">202</span><a href="#202">Moccasin</a><br /> +<span class="right">370</span><span class="indent"><a href="#370">How to make</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">316</span><a href="#316">Mosquitoes, how to keep out of teepee</a><br /> +<span class="right">341, <a href="#350">350</a></span><a href="#341">Mouse, Field</a><br /> +<span class="right">270, <a href="#274">274</a>, 275, <a href="#278">278</a></span><a href="#270">Mud albums</a><br /> +<span class="right">79, <a href="#263">263</a>, <a href="#273">273</a>, <a href="#341">341</a>, <a href="#345">345</a></span><a href="#79">Muskrat</a><br /> +<span class="right">348</span><span class="indent"><a href="#348">Killed by Mink</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">349</span><span class="indent"><a href="#349">Burrows hole in dam</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><a href="#78">Mussel shells</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-N" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="N">63</a></span><a href="#63">Needles, made of Catfish bones</a><br /> +<span class="right">98</span><a href="#98">Niagara, Yan visits</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">312</span><a href="#312">North Star</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-O" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="O">123</a></span><a href="#123">Oak, pick to make holes for sewing bark</a><br /> +<span class="right">370</span><a href="#370">Ojibwa</a><br /> +<span class="right">105, <a href="#275">275</a></span><a href="#105">O'Leary, Phil</a><br /> +<span class="right">177</span><a href="#177">Osage orange</a><br /> +<span class="right">458</span><a href="#458">Oven bird</a><br /> +<span class="right">113</span><a href="#113">Owl, Stuffed</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">163</span><span class="indent"><a href="#163">Hoot</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">165</span><span class="indent"><a href="#165">Screech</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">263</span><span class="indent"><a href="#263">Horned</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">399</span><span class="indent"><a href="#399">Cat</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">399, 400</span><span class="indent"><a href="#399">Horned Owls, killed by Yan and Sam</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">402, <a href="#404">404</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#402">How to stuff</a></span><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-P" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="P">111</a>, 112</span><a href="#111">Parlour, the Raftens'</a><br /> +<span class="right">373</span><a href="#373">Partridge head for Mink bait</a><br /> +<span class="right">41</span><a href="#41">Peeper</a><br /> +<span class="right">42</span><a href="#42">Pelopæus, Mud-wasp</a><br /> +<span class="right">497</span><a href="#497">Peter (Peetweet)</a><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><a href="#78">Pine</a><br /> +<span class="right">63</span><a href="#63">Pine Grosbeak</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">71, <a href="#204">204</a></span><a href="#71">Pipsissewa</a><br /> +<span class="right">312</span><a href="#312">Pleiades</a><br /> +<span class="right">204</span><a href="#204">Pleurisy root</a><br /> +<span class="right">380, <a href="#494">494</a></span><a href="#380">Pogue, Dick</a><br /> +<span class="right">211</span><a href="#211">Pokeweed</a><br /> +<span class="right">103, <a href="#106">106</a>, <a href="#211">211</a>, <a href="#216">216</a></span><a href="#103">Prattisons</a><br /> +<span class="right">124</span><a href="#124">Prayer-sticks</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-R" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="R">354</a></span><a href="#354">Rabbit, how he escaped the Fox</a><br /> +<a href="#28">Rad</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">30</span><span class="indent"><a href="#30">Unkindness to Yan</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">93</span><span class="indent"><a href="#93">Goes Lynx-hunting with Yan</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">115</span><a href="#115">Raften, Bud</a><br /> +<span class="right">107</span><a href="#107">Raften, Mrs., kindness to Yan</a><br /> +<span class="right">103, <a href="#105">105</a></span><a href="#103">Raften, Wm.</a><br /> +<span class="right">108, 109</span><span class="indent"><a href="#108">His characteristics</a></span><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">255</span><span class="indent"><a href="#256">Helps the boys make their bed in teepee</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">489, <a href="#490">490</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#489">Makes friends with Caleb and helps him out of his trouble</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">64</span><a href="#64">Rail</a><br /> +<span class="right">350</span><span class="indent"><a href="#350">Sora rails</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">80, <a href="#338">338</a></span><a href="#80">Red Squirrels</a><br /> +<span class="right">339</span><span class="indent"><a href="#339">Nest robbed by boys</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">162</span><a href="#162">Robin</a><br /> +<span class="right">476</span><span class="indent"><a href="#476">Guy kills</a></span><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-S" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="S">107</a></span><a href="#107">Sam</a><br /> +<span class="right">112</span><span class="indent"><a href="#112">His collection of birds' eggs</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">200</span><span class="indent"><a href="#200">He visits Granny de Neuville</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">397, 398</span><span class="indent"><a href="#397">His skill with the axe</a></span><br /> +<a href="#23">Sander</a><br /> +<span class="right">23</span><span class="indent"><a href="#23">Taxidermist's shop</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">24</span><span class="indent"><a href="#24">Exhibit of birds</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">170</span><a href="#170">Sage-brush root, Indians use to light fires</a><br /> +<span class="right">411</span><a href="#411">Sandals, worn when Dear-hunting</a><br /> +<span class="right">71, <a href="#101">101</a></span><a href="#71">Sanger</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">103, 104</span><span class="indent"><a href="#103">Account of settlers</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">112</span><span class="indent"><a href="#112">Custom of framing coffin-plates</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">300</span><a href="#300">Santees (Sioux)</a><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><a href="#71">Sassafras</a><br /> +<span class="right">232, <a href="#279">279</a></span><a href="#232">Scarlet Tanager</a><br /> +<span class="right">207</span><a href="#207">Sees Yan again at Granny de Neuville's</a><br /> +<span class="right">64</span><a href="#64">Sharp-shin</a><br /> +<a href="#78">Shells</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Mussel</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">Clam</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">97</span><a href="#97">Shore-lark</a><br /> +<span class="right">158</span><a href="#158">Meadow-lark, pursued by Hawk</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">474</span><a href="#474">Shrew, Yan finds body of</a><br /> +<span class="right">155, 156, <a href="#165">165</a></span><a href="#155">Si Lee</a><br /> +<span class="right">402-405</span><span class="indent"><a href="#402">Teaches the boys how to stuff Horned Owls</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">332</span><a href="#332">Skunk, fight with Cat</a><br /> +<span class="right">202</span><a href="#202">Skunk Cabbage</a><br /> +<span class="right">202</span><a href="#202">Skunk-root</a><br /> +<span class="right">355</span><a href="#355">Smoke, signs used by Indians</a><br /> +<span class="right">74</span><a href="#74">Snake, dies at sundown</a><br /> +<span class="right">349</span><a href="#349">Snipe, Teetering (Tipup)</a><br /> +<span class="right">74, <a href="#200">200</a></span><a href="#74">"Sorry-plant"</a><br /> +<a href="#161">Sparrow—</a><br /> +<span class="right">161, 162</span><span class="indent"><a href="#161">Vesper</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">162, 163, <a href="#457">457</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#162">Song</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">63, <a href="#474">474</a>, <a href="#514">514</a></span><a href="#63">Sparrow-hawk</a><br /> +<span class="right">204</span><a href="#204">Spear-mint</a><br /> +<span class="right">203</span><a href="#203">Spicewood (Lindera Benzoin)</a><br /> +<span class="right">73</span><a href="#73">Spider, kill a spider to make it rain</a><br /> +<span class="right">210</span><a href="#210">Squaw berries</a><br /> +<span class="right">65</span><a href="#65">Stramonium</a><br /> +<span class="right">72</span><a href="#72">Superstitious sayings, Biddy's</a><br /> +<span class="right">72</span><a href="#72">Swallows, shooting</a><br /> +<span class="right">72, <a href="#162">162</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#72">Keep off lightning</a></span><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-T" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="T">402</a></span><a href="#402">Taxidermy, Si Lee gives a lesson in</a><br /> +<a href="#118">Teepee</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">119</span><span class="indent"><a href="#119">Is begun</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">125, 126</span><span class="indent"><a href="#125">Does not prove satisfactory, smokes, leaks</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">129</span><span class="indent"><a href="#129">Is blown down</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">146</span><span class="indent"><a href="#146">Caleb Clark's description</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">151</span><span class="indent"><a href="#151">Second teepee is begun</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">154</span><span class="indent"><a href="#154">Storm-cap</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">167, 168</span><span class="indent"><a href="#167">How to place poles and ropes</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">169</span><span class="indent"><a href="#169">Should face east</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">460</span><span class="indent"><a href="#460">How to secure in a storm</a></span><br /> + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">72, <a href="#163">163</a></span><a href="#72">Toads, give warts</a><br /> +<a href="#52">Trails</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">294</span><span class="indent"><a href="#294">Paper</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">297</span><span class="indent"><a href="#297">Corn</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">356</span><span class="indent"><a href="#356">Signs of</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">360</span><a href="#360">Trees, points of compass indicated by</a><br /> +<span class="right">504, 505</span><span class="indent"><a href="#504">How to tell height by shadow</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">506, 507</span><span class="indent"><a href="#506">How to measure distance between trees</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">263, <a href="#344">344</a></span><a href="#263">Tree-frog</a><br /> +<span class="right">179</span><a href="#179">Turkey feathers for arrows</a><br /> +<span class="right">79</span><a href="#79">Turtle, mud</a><br /> +<span class="right">57</span><a href="#57">Tutnee</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-U" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="U">201</a></span><a href="#201">Umbil, or "Sterrick-root"</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> </td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-V" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="V">352</a></span><a href="#352">Veery</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">267</span><a href="#267">Vireo, Red-eyed</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-W" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right"><a name="W">317</a>, 318</span><a href="#317">Wakan Rock</a><br /> +<span class="right">411</span><a href="#411">War bonnets</a><br /> +<span class="right">42</span><a href="#42">Wasp, mud</a><br /> +<span class="right">497</span><a href="#497">Wesley (Blackhawk)</a><br /> +<span class="right">274</span><a href="#274">Whangerdoodle</a><br /> +<span class="right">163</span><a href="#163">Whippoorwill</a><br /> +<span class="right">71</span><a href="#71">White-man's Foot</a><br /> +<span class="right">168</span><a href="#168">White Oak pins for teepee</a><br /> +<span class="right">303</span><a href="#303">Whooping Crane</a><br /> +<span class="right">119</span><a href="#119">Willow, withes for tying teepee poles</a><br /> +<span class="right">308</span><a href="#308">Wind, how to tell direction of</a><br /> +<span class="right">74</span><a href="#74">Wintergreen</a><br /> +</td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> + +<a href="#73">Witch-hazel—</a><br /> +<span class="right">73</span><span class="indent"><a href="#73">Will find water</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">137</span><span class="indent"><a href="#137">Granny de Neuville's medicine</a></span><br /> +<a href="#261">Woodchuck—</a><br /> +<span class="right">280</span><span class="indent"><a href="#280">Sam's story</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">432</span><span class="indent"><a href="#432">Guy kills the old Woodchuck</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">393</span><a href="#393">Wood-duck</a><br /> +<span class="right">80</span><a href="#80">Wood-mouse</a><br /> +<span class="right">344</span><a href="#344">Wood-peewee</a><br /> +<span class="right">162, <a href="#338">338</a>, <a href="#350">350</a></span><a href="#162">Woodpecker, Red-headed</a><br /> +<span class="right">72</span><a href="#72">Worm, measuring</a><br /> +<span class="right">204</span><a href="#204">Wormweed</a><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> + +<table width="100%" align="center" summary="Index-Y" border="0"> +<tr> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<a href="#19">Yan</a><a name="Y">—</a><br /> +<span class="right">19</span><span class="indent"><a href="#19">Homelife</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">25</span><span class="indent"><a href="#25">His attempts to buy Owl</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">26</span><span class="indent"><a href="#26">Love for spring</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">33</span><span class="indent"><a href="#33">How he made the last dime for his first nature book</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">40</span><span class="indent"><a href="#40">His meeting with the unknown naturalist</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">47</span><span class="indent"><a href="#47">Discovery of Glenyan</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">51</span><span class="indent"><a href="#51">Building of the shanty</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">61</span><span class="indent"><a href="#61">Imitation of Indians</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">63</span><span class="indent"><a href="#63">Makes a drawing of a Hawk</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">69</span><span class="indent"><a href="#69">Identifies Coon-hairs</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">70</span><span class="indent"><a href="#70">Is made ill by chewing leaves of strange plant</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">78</span><span class="indent"><a href="#78">His list of trees</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">80</span><span class="indent"><a href="#80">Tries to kill Wood-mouse</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">81</span><span class="indent"><a href="#81">Makes a pipe and learns to smoke</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">82</span><span class="indent"><a href="#82">Is punished for caricaturing his teacher</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">83</span><span class="indent"><a href="#83">Finds his shanty destroyed by tramps</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">84, 85</span><span class="indent"><a href="#84">His illness</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">88</span><span class="indent"><a href="#88">Begins to recover and visits Glenyan</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">89</span><span class="indent"><a href="#89">His adventure with a Lynx</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">93</span><span class="indent"><a href="#93">Takes Rad hunting</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">97</span><span class="indent"><a href="#97">Is reproved by his mother for killing the Shore-lark</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">103, <a href="#106">106</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#103">He goes to Sanger</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">110</span><span class="indent"><a href="#110">His duties</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">114</span><span class="indent"><a href="#114">He sees Sam's treasures</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">119</span><span class="indent"><a href="#119">He and Sam begin the teepee</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">124</span><span class="indent"><a href="#124">They light a fire in the teepee</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">126</span><span class="indent"><a href="#126">Which smokes them out</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">129</span><span class="indent"><a href="#129">They find the teepee blown down</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">135</span><span class="indent"><a href="#135">Their visit to Granny de Neuville</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">135</span><span class="indent"><a href="#135">Yan sees Biddy again</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">141</span><span class="indent"><a href="#141">They visit Caleb Clark</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">151</span><span class="indent"><a href="#151">They begin their second teepee</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">165</span><span class="indent"><a href="#165">The canvas is sewn by Si Lee</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">172</span><span class="indent"><a href="#172">Caleb teaches them to light a fire without matches</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">172</span><span class="indent"><a href="#172">First fire in new teepee</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">177, <a href="#186">186</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#177">They make bows and arrows; practice w. them</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">191</span><span class="indent"><a href="#191">They build a dam</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">196</span><span class="indent"><a href="#196">Yan's story of the Indian squaw</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">200</span><span class="indent"><a href="#200">He visits the Sanger Witch again</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">212-214</span><span class="indent"><a href="#212">Takes dinner with her</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">220, <a href="#232">232</a></span><span class="indent"><a href="#220">They capture Guy Burns; admit him into Tribe</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">237, 238</span><span class="indent"><a href="#237">Yan fights Sam and Guy</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">244</span><span class="indent"><a href="#244">Comes to the assistance of the school trustees</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">252</span><span class="indent"><a href="#252">Goes with Sam to live in the teepee for two weeks</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">262-267</span><span class="indent"><a href="#262">Their first night in the woods</a></span><br /> + </td> + <td width="5%"> </td> + <td class="index" width="45%" valign="top"> +<span class="right">270</span><span class="indent"><a href="#270">They are joined by Guy</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">282-287</span><span class="indent"><a href="#282">Their foraging trip</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">291</span><span class="indent"><a href="#291">Their Deer-shooting game</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">299</span><span class="indent"><a href="#299">Their visit from Caleb</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">315</span><span class="indent"><a href="#315">They sun their blankets</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">316</span><span class="indent"><a href="#316">How they kept off Mosquitoes</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">317</span><span class="indent"><a href="#317">They clean their camp</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">318</span><span class="indent"><a href="#318">Carry their remnants of food to Wakan Rock</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">319</span><span class="indent"><a href="#319">Dig an Indian well</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">320, 321</span><span class="indent"><a href="#320">Make an Indian drum</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">332</span><span class="indent"><a href="#332">Yan sees fight between Cat and Skunk</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">339</span><span class="indent"><a href="#339">They destroy a Red-squirrel's nest</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">359</span><span class="indent"><a href="#359">He learns to build signal fire</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">360</span><span class="indent"><a href="#360">Caleb tells him how to find his way in the woods</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">364</span><span class="indent"><a href="#364">The boys learn how to tan skins</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">371</span><span class="indent"><a href="#371">And how to make moccasins</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">377</span><span class="indent"><a href="#377">Makes a ketchalive</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">379</span><span class="indent"><a href="#379">Their visit from Mr. Raften</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">385</span><span class="indent"><a href="#385">Yan's story of the Boy-that-wanted-to-know</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">389</span><span class="indent"><a href="#389">The trip to Downey's Dump</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">401</span><span class="indent"><a href="#401">They kill two Horned Owls</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">402</span><span class="indent"><a href="#402">Si Lee gives them a lesson in taxidermy</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">417</span><span class="indent"><a href="#417">Yan's test of grit</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">424</span><span class="indent"><a href="#424">He draws the tracks near Bill Garney's grave</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">435</span><span class="indent"><a href="#435">The Grand Council</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">443</span><span class="indent"><a href="#443">The Coon-hunt</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">468</span><span class="indent"><a href="#468">The Bear-hunt</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">474</span><span class="indent"><a href="#474">Yan finds a Shrew</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">482</span><span class="indent"><a href="#482">Is ill-treated by Bill Hennard</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">497</span><span class="indent"><a href="#497">Trouble with the Boilers</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">498</span><span class="indent"><a href="#498">He wins the fight with Blackhawk</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">499</span><span class="indent"><a href="#499">The Boilers join the Sangers</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">509</span><span class="indent"><a href="#509">Yan beats the city boy in wrestling-match</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">510</span><span class="indent"><a href="#510">They start on hard trip</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">513</span><span class="indent"><a href="#513">Yan and Pete make an exploring trip</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">520</span><span class="indent"><a href="#520">Yan finds the Indian village</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">528</span><span class="indent"><a href="#528">His fight with the Lynx</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">538</span><span class="indent"><a href="#538">Receives bounty for killing lynx</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">541</span><span class="indent"><a href="#541">Is made War Chief</a></span><br /> +<a href="#76">Yan's Mother</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">95</span><span class="indent"><a href="#95">Her morbidly religious nature</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">97</span><span class="indent"><a href="#97">She reproves Yan for killing Shore-lark</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">327</span><a href="#327">Yellow Warbler</a><br /> +<a href="#177">Yew</a>—<br /> +<span class="right">177</span><span class="indent"><a href="#177">Spanish</a></span><br /> +<span class="right">177</span><span class="indent"><a href="#177">Oregon</a></span><br /> +</td> + </tr> +</table> +<br /><br /> +<hr class="pg" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO LITTLE SAVAGES***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 13499-h.txt or 13499-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/4/9/13499">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/4/9/13499</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so 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/dev/null +++ b/old/13499-h/images/treecutting.gif diff --git a/old/13499-h/images/witchhazela.gif b/old/13499-h/images/witchhazela.gif Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2cec16d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13499-h/images/witchhazela.gif diff --git a/old/13499.txt b/old/13499.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ec2600 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13499.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14326 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Two Little Savages, by Ernest Thompson Seton, +Illustrated by Ernest Thompson Seton + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Two Little Savages + +Author: Ernest Thompson Seton + +Release Date: September 19, 2004 [eBook #13499] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO LITTLE SAVAGES*** + + +E-text prepared by Curtis Weyant, Lesley Halamek, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 13499-h.htm or 13499-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/4/9/13499/13499-h/13499-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/3/4/9/13499/13499-h.zip) + + + + + +TWO LITTLE SAVAGES + +Being the ADVENTURES of Two BOYS Who Lived as INDIANS and What They +LEARNED + +With Over Three Hundred Drawings + +Written & Illustrated by + +ERNEST THOMPSON SETON + +Author of _Wild Animals I have Known_, _Lives of the Hunted_, +_Biography of a Grizzly_, _Trail of the Sandhill Stag_, etcetera, +& Naturalist to the Government of Manitoba. + +1917 + + + + + + + +Preface + + +Because I have known the torment of thirst I would +dig a well where others may drink. + +E.T.S. + + + +In this Book the designs for Title-page, Jackets, and general make-up +were done by Grace Gallatin Seton. + + + + +The Chapters + +Part I + +Glenyan & Yan + + +I. Glimmerings +II. Spring +III. His Adjoining Brothers +IV. The Book +V. The Collarless Stranger +VI. Glenyan +VII The Shanty +VIII The Beginnings of Woodlore +IX Tracks +X. Biddy's Contribution +XI. Lung Balm +XII. A Crisis +XIII. The Lynx +XIV. Froth + + + + +The Chapters + +Part II + +Sanger & Sam + + +I. The New Home +II. Sam +III. The Wigwam +IV. The Sanger Witch +V. Caleb +VI. The Making of the Teepee +VII. The Calm Evening +VIII. The Sacred Fire +IX. The Bows and Arrows +X. The Dam +XI. Yan and the Witch +XII. Dinner with the Witch +XIII. The Hostile Spy +XIV. The Quarrel +XV. The Peace of Minnie + + + + +The Chapters + +Part III + +In the Woods + + +I. Really in the Woods +II. The First Night and Morning +III. A Crippled Warrior and the Mud-Albums +IV. A "Massacree" of Palefaces +V. The Deer Hunt +VI. War Bonnet, Teepee and Coups +VII. Campercraft +VIII. The Indian Drum +IX. The Cat and the Skunk +X. The Adventures of a Squirrel family +XI. How to See the Woodfolk +XII. Indian Signs and Getting Lost +XIII. Tanning Skins and Making Moccasins +XIV. Caleb's Philosophy +XV. A Visit from Raften +XVI. How Yan Knew the Ducks Afar +XVII. Sam's Woodcraft Exploit +XVIII. The Owls and the Night-School +XIX. The Trial of Grit +XX. The White Revolver +XXI. The Triumph of Guy +XXII. The Coon Hunt +XXIII. The Banshee's Wail and the Huge Night Prowler +XXIV. Hawkeye Claims Another Grand Coup +XXV. The Three-fingered Tramp +XXVI. Winning Back the farm +XXVII. The Rival Tribe +XXVIII. White Man's Woodcraft +XXIX. The Long Swamp +XXX. A New Kind of Coon +XXXI. On the Old Camp Ground +XXXII. The New War Chief + + + +List of Full Pages + +Part I + + + 1. "Gazing spellbound in that window" + 2. "He already knew the Downy Woodpecker" + 3. "Yan's Toilet" + 4. "The Coon Track" + 5. "There in his dear cabin were three tramps" + 6. "It surely was a Lynx" + +Part II + + 7. "The wigwam was a failure" + 8. "Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye" + 9. "Pattern for Teepee" + +10. "Pattern of Thunder Bull's Teepee and of Black + Bull's Teepee" +11. "'Clicker-a-clicker!' he shrieked ... and down like + a dart" +12. "Rubbing-sticks for fire-making" +13. "The Archery Outfit" +14. "The dam was a great success" +15. "Ugh! Heap sassy" +16. "There stood Raften, spectator of the whole affair" + + + + +Part III + + +17. "If ye kill any Song-birds, I'll use the rawhoide + on ye" +18. "Where's the axe?" +19. "He soon appeared, waving a branch" +20. "The War Bonnet" +21. "The old Cat raged and tore" +22. "Indian Signs" +23. "The Two Smokes" +24. "The Fish and River Ducks" +25. "The Sea Ducks" +26. "Owl-stuffing plate" +27. "Guy gave a leap of terror and fell" +28. "Well, sonny, cookin' dinner?" +29. "He nervously fired and missed" + + + + +I + +Glimmerings + + +Yan was much like other twelve-year-old boys in having a keen interest +in Indians and in wild life, but he differed from most in this, that +he never got over it. Indeed, as he grew older, he found a yet keener +pleasure in storing up the little bits of woodcraft and Indian lore +that pleased him as a boy. + +His father was in poor circumstances. He was an upright man of refined +tastes, but indolent--a failure in business, easy with the world and +stern with his family. He had never taken an interest in his son's +wildwood pursuits; and when he got the idea that they might interfere +with the boy's education, he forbade them altogether. + +There was certainly no reason to accuse Yan of neglecting school. He +was the head boy of his class, although there were many in it older +than himself. He was fond of books in general, but those that dealt +with Natural Science and Indian craft were very close to his heart. +Not that he had many--there were very few in those days, and the +Public Library had but a poor representation of these. "Lloyd's +Scandinavian Sports," "Gray's Botany" and one or two Fenimore Cooper +novels, these were all, and Yan was devoted to them. He was a timid, +obedient boy in most things, but the unwise command to give up what +was his nature merely made him a disobedient boy--turned a good boy +into a bad one. He was too much in terror of his father to disobey +openly, but he used to sneak away at all opportunities to the fields +and woods, and at each new bird or plant he found he had an exquisite +thrill of mingled pleasure and pain--the pain because he had no name +for it or means of learning its nature. + +The intense interest in animals was his master passion, and thanks to +this, his course to and from school was a very crooked one, involving +many crossings of the street, because thereby he could pass first a +saloon in whose window was a champagne advertising chromo that +portrayed two Terriers chasing a Rat; next, directly opposite this, +was a tobacconist's, in the window of which was a beautiful effigy of +an Elephant, laden with tobacco. By going a little farther out of his +way, there was a game store where he might see some Ducks, and was +sure, at least, of a stuffed Deer's head; and beyond that was a +furrier shop, with an astonishing stuffed Bear. At another point he +could see a livery stable Dog that was said to have killed a Coon, and +at yet another place on Jervie Street was a cottage with a high +veranda, under which, he was told, a chained Bear had once been kept. +He never saw the Bear. It had been gone for years, but he found +pleasure in passing the place. At the corner of Pemberton and Grand +streets, according to a schoolboy tradition, a Skunk had been killed +years ago and could still be smelled on damp nights. He always +stopped, if passing near on a wet night, and sniffed and enjoyed that +Skunk smell. The fact that it ultimately turned out to be a leakage of +sewer gas could never rob him of the pleasure he originally found in +it. + +[Illustration: "Gazing spellbound in that window"] + +Yan had no good excuse for these weaknesses, and he blushed for shame +when his elder brother talked "common sense" to him about his follies. +He only knew that such things fascinated him. + +But the crowning glory was a taxidermist's shop kept on Main Street by +a man named Sander. Yan spent, all told, many weeks gazing spellbound, +with his nose flat white against that window. It contained some Fox +and Cat heads grinning ferociously, and about fifty birds beautifully +displayed. Nature might have got some valuable hints in that window +on showing plumage to the very best advantage. Each bird seemed more +wonderful than the last. + +There were perhaps fifty of them on view, and of these, twelve had +labels, as they had formed part of an exhibit at the Annual County +Fair. These labels were precious truths to him, and the birds: + +Osprey Partridge or Ruffed Grouse +Kingfisher Bittern +Bluejay Highholder +Rosebreasted Grosbeak Sawwhet Owl +Woodthrush Oriole +Scarlet Tanager * * * * * * * + +were, with their names, deeply impressed on his memory and added to +his woodlore, though not altogether without a mixture of error. For +the alleged Woodthrush was not a Woodthrush at all, but turned out +to be a Hermit Thrush. The last bird of the list was a long-tailed, +brownish bird with white breast. The label was placed so that Yan +could not read it from outside, and one of his daily occupations was +to see if the label had been turned so that he could read it. But it +never was, so he never learned the bird's name. + +After passing this for a year or more, he formed a desperate plan. It +was nothing less than to _go inside_. It took him some months to +screw up courage, for he was shy and timid, but oh! he was so hungry +for it. Most likely if he had gone in openly and asked leave, he +would have been allowed to see everything; but he dared not. His home +training was all of the crushing kind. He picked on the most curious +of the small birds in the window--a Sawwhet Owl then grit his teeth +and walked in. How frightfully the cowbell on the door did clang! Then +there succeeded a still more appalling silence, then a step and the +great man himself came. + +"How--how--how much is that Owl?" + +"Two dollars." + +Yan's courage broke down now. He fled. If he had been told ten cents, +it would have been utterly beyond reach. He scarcely heard what the +man said. He hurried out with a vague feeling that he had been in +heaven but was not good enough to stay there. He saw nothing of the +wonderful things around him. + + + + +II + +Spring + + +Yan, though not strong, revelled in deeds of brawn. He would rather +have been Samson than Moses--Hercules than Apollo. All his tastes +inclined him to wild life. Each year when the spring came, he felt the +inborn impulse to up and away. He was stirred through and through when +the first Crow, in early March, came barking over-head. But it fairly +boiled in his blood when the Wild Geese, in long, double, arrow-headed +procession, went clanging northward. He longed to go with them. +Whenever a new bird or beast appeared, he had a singular prickling +feeling up his spine and his back as though he had a mane that was +standing up. This feeling strengthened with his strength. + +All of his schoolmates used to say that they "liked" the spring, some +of the girls would even say that they "dearly loved" the spring, but +they could not understand the madness that blazed in Yan's eyes when +springtime really came--the flush of cheek--the shortening breath--the +restless craving for action--the chafing with flashes of rebellion at +school restraints--the overflow of nervous energy--the bloodthirst +in his blood--the hankering to run--to run to the north, when the +springtime tokens bugled to his every sense. + +Then the wind and sky and ground were full of thrill. There was +clamour everywhere, but never a word. There was stirring within and +without. There was incentive in the yelping of the Wild Geese; but it +was only tumult, for he could not understand why he was so stirred. +There were voices that he could not hear--messages that he could not +read; all was confusion of tongues. He longed only to get away. + +"If only I could get away. If--if--Oh, God!" he stammered in torment +of inexpression, and then would gasp and fling himself down on some +bank, and bite the twigs that chanced within reach and tremble and +wonder at himself. + +Only one thing kept him from some mad and suicidal move--from joining +some roving Indian band up north, or gypsies nearer--and that was the +strong hand at home. + + + + +III + +His Adjoining Brothers + + +Yan had many brothers, but only those next him in age were important +in his life. Rad was two years older--a strong boy, who prided himself +on his "common sense." Though so much older, he was Yan's inferior +at school. He resented this, and delighted in showing his muscular +superiority at all opportunities. He was inclined to be religious, +and was strictly proper in his life and speech. He never was known to +smoke a cigarette, tell a lie, or say "gosh" or "darn." He was plucky +and persevering, but he was cold and hard, without a human fiber or a +drop of red blood in his make-up. Even as a boy he bragged that he had +no enthusiasms, that he believed in common sense, that he called a +spade a spade, and would not use two words where one would do. His +intelligence was above the average, but he was so anxious to be +thought a person of rare sagacity and smartness, unswayed by emotion, +that nothing was too heartless for him to do if it seemed in line +with his assumed character. He was not especially selfish, and yet he +pretended to be so, simply that people should say of him significantly +and admiringly: "Isn't he keen? Doesn't he know how to take care of +himself?" What little human warmth there was in him died early, and he +succeeded only in making himself increasingly detested as he grew up. + +His relations to Yan may be seen in one incident. + +Yan had been crawling about under the house in the low wide cobwebby +space between the floor beams and the ground. The delightful sensation +of being on an exploring expedition led him farther (and ultimately to +a paternal thrashing for soiling his clothes), till he discovered a +hollow place near one side, where he could nearly stand upright. He +at once formed one of his schemes--to make a secret, or at least a +private, workroom here. He knew that if he were to ask permission +he would be refused, but if he and Rad together were to go it might +receive favourable consideration on account of Rad's self-asserted +reputation for common sense. For a wonder, Rad was impressed with the +scheme, but was quite sure that they had "better not go together to +ask Father." He "could manage that part better alone," and he did. + +Then they set to work. The first thing was to deepen the hole from +three feet to six feet everywhere, and get rid of the earth by working +it back under the floor of the house. There were many days of labour +in this, and Yan stuck to it each day after returning from school. +There were always numerous reasons why Rad could not share in the +labour. When the ten by fourteen-foot hole was made, boards to line +and floor it were needed. Lumber was very cheap--inferior, second-hand +stuff was to be had for the asking--and Yan found and carried boards +enough to make the workroom. Rad was an able carpenter and now took +charge of the construction. They worked together evening after +evening, Yan discussing all manner of plans with warmth and +enthusiasm--what they would do in their workshop when finished--how +they might get a jig-saw in time and saw picture frames, so as to +make some money. Rad assented with grunts or an occasional Scripture +text--that was his way. Each day he told Yan what to go on with while +he was absent. + +The walls were finished at length; a window placed in one side; a door +made and fitted with lock and key. What joy! Yan glowed with pleasure +and pride at the triumphant completion of his scheme. He swept up the +floor for the finishing ceremony and sat down on the bench for a grand +gloat, when Rad said abruptly: + +"Going to lock up now." That sounded gratifyingly important. Yan +stepped outside. Rad locked the door, put the key in his pocket, then +turning, he said with cold, brutal emphasis: + +"Now you keep out of my workshop from this on. _You_ have nothing +to do with it. It's mine. I got the permission to make it." All of +which he could prove, and did. + + * * * * * + +Alner, the youngest, was eighteen months younger than Yan, and about +the same size, but the resemblance stopped there. His chief aim in +life was to be stylish. He once startled his mother by inserting into +his childish prayers the perfectly sincere request: "Please, God, +make me an awful swell, for Jesus sake." Vanity was his foible, and +laziness his sin. + +He could be flattered into anything that did not involve effort. He +fairly ached to be famous. He was consuming with desire to be pointed +out for admiration as the great this, that or the other thing--it did +not matter to him what, as long as he could be pointed out. But he +never had the least idea of working for it. At school he was a sad +dunce. He was three grades below Yan and at the bottom of his grade. +They set out for school each day together, because that was a paternal +ruling; but they rarely reached there together. They had nothing in +common. Yan was full of warmth, enthusiasm, earnestness and energy, +but had a most passionate and ungovernable temper. Little put him in a +rage, but it was soon over, and then an equally violent reaction set +in, and he was always anxious to beg forgiveness and make friends +again. Alner was of lazy good temper and had a large sense of humour. +His interests were wholly in the playground. He had no sympathy with +Yan's Indian tastes--"Indians in nasty, shabby clothes. Bah! Horrid!" +he would scornfully say. + +These, then, were his adjoining brothers. + +What wonder that Yan was daily further from them. + + + + +IV + +The Book + + +But the greatest event of Yan's then early life now took place. His +school readers told him about Wilson and Audubon, the first and last +American naturalists. Yan wondered why no other great prophet had +arisen. But one day the papers announced that at length he had +appeared. A work on the Birds of Canada, by ..., had come at last, +price one dollar. + +Money never before seemed so precious, necessary and noble a thing. +"Oh! if I only had a dollar." He set to work to save and scrape. He +won marbles in game, swopped marbles for tops, tops for jack-knives as +the various games came around with strange and rigid periodicity. The +jack-knives in turn were converted into rabbits, the rabbits into cash +of small denominations. He carried wood for strange householders; +he scraped and scraped and saved the scrapings; and got, after some +months, as high as ninety cents. But there was a dread fatality +about that last dime. No one seemed to have any more odd jobs; his +commercial luck deserted him. He was burnt up with craving for that +book. None of his people took interest enough in him to advance the +cash even at the ruinous interest (two or three times cent per cent) +that he was willing to bind himself for. Six weeks passed before he +achieved that last dime, and he never felt conscience-clear about it +afterward. + +He and Alner had to cut the kitchen wood. Each had his daily +allotment, as well as other chores. Yan's was always done faithfully, +but the other evaded his work in every way. He was a notorious little +fop. The paternal poverty did not permit his toilet extravagance to +soar above one paper collar per week, but in his pocket he carried a +piece of ink eraser with which he was careful to keep the paper collar +up to standard. Yan cared nothing about dress--indeed, was inclined to +be slovenly. So the eldest brother, meaning to turn Alner's weakness +to account, offered a prize of a twenty-five-cent necktie of the +winner's own choice to the one who did his chores best for a month. +For the first week Alner and Yan kept even, then Alner wearied, in +spite of the dazzling prize. The pace was too hot. Yan kept on his +usual way and was duly awarded the twenty-five cents to be spent on a +necktie. But in the store a bright thought came tempting him. Fifteen +cents was as much as any one should spend on a necktie--that's sure; +the other ten would get the book. And thus the last dime was added to +the pile. Then, bursting with joy and with the pride of a capitalist, +he went to the book-shop and asked for the coveted volume. + +He was tense with long-pent feeling. He expected to have the +bookseller say that the price had gone up to one thousand dollars, and +that all were sold. But he did not. He turned silently, drew the book +out of a pile of them, hesitated and said, "Green or red cover?" + +"Green," said Yan, not yet believing. The book-man looked inside, then +laid it down, saying in a cold, business tone, "Ninety cents." + +"Ninety cents," gasped Yan. Oh! if only he had known the ways of +booksellers or the workings of cash discounts. For six weeks had +he been barred this happy land--had suffered starvation; he had +misappropriated funds, he had fractured his conscience and all to +raise that ten cents--that unnecessary dime. + +He read that book reverentially all the way home. It did not give him +what he wanted, but that doubtless was his own fault. He pored over +it, studied it, loved it, never doubting that now he had the key to +all the wonders and mysteries of Nature. It was five years before +he fully found out that the text was the most worthless trash ever +foisted on a torpid public. Nevertheless, the book held some useful +things; first, a list of the bird names; second, some thirty vile +travesties of Audubon and Wilson's bird portraits. + +These were the birds thus maligned: + +Duck Hawk Rose-breasted Grosbeak +Sparrow Hawk Bobolink +White-headed Eagle Meadow Lark +Great Horned Owl Bluejay +Snowy Owl Ruffed Grouse +Red-headed Woodpecker Great Blue Heron +Golden-winged Woodpecker Bittern +Barn-swallow Wilson's Snipe +Whip-poor-will Long-biller Curlew +Night Hawk Purple Gallinule +Belted Kingfisher Canada Goose +Kingbird Wood Duck +Woodthrush Hooded Merganser +Catbird Double-crested Cormorant +White-bellied Nuthatch Arctic Tern +Brown Creeper Great Northern Diver +Bohemian Chatterer Stormy Petrel +Great Northern Shrike Arctic Puffin +Shore Lark Black Guillemot + +[Illustration: "He already knew the Downy Woodpecker"] + + +But badly as they were presented, the pictures were yet information, +and were entered in his memory as lasting accessions to his store of +truth about the Wild Things. + +Of course, he already knew some few birds whose names are familiar +to every schoolboy: the Robin, Bluebird, Kingbird, Wild Canary, +Woodpecker, Barn-swallow, Wren, Chickadee, Wild Pigeon, Humming-bird, +Pewee, so that his list was steadily increased. + + + + +V + +The Collarless Stranger + + + Oh, sympathy! the noblest gift of God to man. + The greatest bond there is twixt man and man. + The strongest link in any friendship chain. + The single lasting hold in kinship's claim. + The only incorrosive strand in marriage bonds. + The blazing torch where genius lights her lamp. + The ten times noble base of noblest love. + More deep than love--more strong than hate--the biggest thing + in all the universe--the law of laws. + Grant but this greatest gift of God to man--this single link + concatenating grant, and all the rest are worthless or comprised. + +Each year the ancient springtime madness came more strongly on Yan. +Each year he was less inclined to resist it, and one glorious day of +late April in its twelfth return he had wandered northward along to a +little wood a couple of miles from the town. It was full of unnamed +flowers and voices and mysteries. Every tree and thicket had a +voice--a long ditch full of water had many that called to him. +"_Peep-peep-peep_," they seemed to say in invitation for him to +come and see. He crawled again and again to the ditch and watched +and waited. The loud whistle would sound only a few rods away, +"_Peep-peep-peep_," but ceased at each spot when he came +near--sometimes before him, sometimes behind, but never where he was. +He searched through a small pool with his hands, sifted out sticks and +leaves, but found nothing else. A farmer going by told him it was only +a "spring Peeper," whatever that was, "some kind of a critter in the +water." + +Under a log not far away Yan found a little Lizard that tumbled out of +sight into a hole. It was the only living thing there, so he decided +that the "Peeper" must be a "Whistling Lizard." But he was determined +to see them when they were calling. How was it that the ponds all +around should be full of them calling to him and playing hide and seek +and yet defying his most careful search? The voices ceased as soon as +he came near, to be gradually renewed in the pools he had left. His +presence was a husher. He lay for a long time watching a pool, but +none of the voices began again in range of his eye. At length, after +realizing that they were avoiding him, he crawled to a very noisy pond +without showing himself, and nearer and yet nearer until he was within +three feet of a loud peeper in the floating grass. He located the spot +within a few inches and yet could see nothing. He was utterly baffled, +and lay there puzzling over it, when suddenly all the near Peepers +stopped, and Yan was startled by a footfall; and looking around, he +saw a man within a few feet, watching him. + +Yan reddened--a stranger was always an enemy; he had a natural +aversion to all such, and stared awkwardly as though caught in crime. + +The man, a curious looking middle-aged person, was in shabby clothes +and wore no collar. He had a tin box strapped on his bent shoulders, +and in his hands was a long-handled net. His features, smothered in a +grizzly beard, were very prominent and rugged. They gave evidence of +intellectual force, with some severity, but his gray-blue eyes had a +kindly look. + +He had on a common, unbecoming, hard felt hat, and when he raised it +to admit the pleasant breeze Yan saw that the wearer had hair like his +own--a coarse, paleolithic mane, piled on his rugged brow, like a mass +of seaweed lodged on some storm-beaten rock. + +"F'what are ye fynding, my lad?" said he in tones whose gentleness was +in no way obscured by a strong Scottish tang. + +Still resenting somewhat the stranger's presence, Yan said: + +"I'm not finding anything; I am only trying to see what that Whistling +Lizard is like." + +The stranger's eyes twinkled. "Forty years ago Ah was laying by a pool +just as Ah seen ye this morning, looking and trying hard to read the +riddle of the spring Peeper. Ah lay there all day, aye, and mony +anither day, yes, it was nigh onto three years before Ah found it oot. +Ah'll be glad to save ye seeking as long as Ah did, if that's yer +mind. Ah'll show ye the Peeper." + +Then he raked carefully among the leaves near the ditch, and soon +captured a tiny Frog, less than an inch long. + +"Ther's your Whistling Lizard: he no a Lizard at all, but a Froggie. +Book men call him _Hyla pickeringii_, an' a gude Scotchman he'd +make, for ye see the St. Andrew's cross on his wee back. Ye see the +whistling ones in the water put on'y their beaks oot an' is hard to +see. Then they sinks to the bottom when ye come near. But you tak +this'n home and treat him well and ye'll see him blow out his throat +as big as himsel' an' whistle like a steam engine." + +Yan thawed out now. He told about the Lizard he had seen. + +"That wasna a Lizard; Ah niver see thim aboot here. It must a been +a two-striped _Spelerpes_. A _Spelerpes_ is nigh kin to a +Frog--a kind of dry-land tadpole, while a Lizard is only a Snake with +legs." + +This was light from heaven. All Yan's distrust was gone. He warmed to +the stranger. He plied him with questions; he told of his getting the +Bird Book. Oh, how the stranger did snort at "that driveling trash." +Yan talked of his perplexities. He got a full hearing and intelligent +answers. His mystery of the black ground-bird with a brown mate was +resolved into the Common Towhee. The unknown wonderful voice in the +spring morning, sending out its "_cluck, cluck, cluck, clucker_," +in the distant woods, the large gray Woodpecker that bored in some +high stub and flew in a blaze of gold, and the wonderful spotted bird +with red head and yellow wings and tail in the taxidermist's window, +were all resolved into one and the same--the Flicker or Golden-winged +Woodpecker. The Hang-nest and the Oriole became one. The unknown +poisonous-looking blue Hornet, that sat on the mud with palpitating +body, and the strange, invisible thing that made the mud-nests inside +old outbuildings and crammed them with crippled Spiders, were both +identified as the Mud-wasp or _Pelopaeus_. + +A black Butterfly flew over, and Yan learned that it was a Camberwell +Beauty, or, scientifically, a _Vanessa antiopa_, and that this +one must have hibernated to be seen so early in the spring, and yet +more, that this beautiful creature was the glorified spirit of the +common brown and black spiney Caterpillar. + +The Wild Pigeons were flying high above them in great flocks as they +sat there, and Yan learned of their great nesting places in the far +South, and of their wonderful but exact migrations without regard to +anything but food; their northward migration to gather the winged nuts +of the Slippery Elm in Canada; their August flight to the rice-fields +of Carolina; their Mississippi Valley pilgrimage when the acorns and +beech-mast were falling ripe. + +What a rich, full morning that was. Everything seemed to turn up for +them. As they walked over a piney hill, two large birds sprang from +the ground and whirred through the trees. + +"Ruffed Grouse or 'patridge', as the farmers call them. There's a pair +lives nigh aboots here. They come on this bank for the Wintergreen +berries." + +And Yan was quick to pull and taste them. He filled his pockets with +the aromatic plant--berries and all--and chewed it as he went. While +they walked, a faint, far drum-thump fell on their ears. "What's +that?" he exclaimed, ever on the alert. The stranger listened and +said: + +"That's the bird ye ha' just seen; that's the Cock Partridge drumming +for his mate." + +The Pewee of his early memories became the Phoebe of books. That day +his brookside singer became the Song-sparrow; the brown triller, the +Veery Thrush. The Trilliums, white and red, the Dogtooth Violet, the +Spring-beauty, the Trailing Arbutus--all for the first time got +names and became real friends, instead of elusive and beautiful, but +depressing mysteries. + +The stranger warmed, too, and his rugged features glowed; he saw in +Yan one minded like himself, tormented with the knowledge-hunger, as +in youth he himself had been; and now it was a priceless privilege to +save the boy some of what he had suffered. His gratitude to Yan grew +fervid, and Yan--he took in every word; nothing that he heard was +forgotten. He was in a dream, for he had found at last the greatest +thing on earth--sympathy--broad, intelligent, comprehensive sympathy. + +That spring morning was ever after like a new epoch in Yan's mind--not +his memory, that was a thing of the past--but in his mind, his living +present. + +And the strongest, realest thing in it all was, not the rugged +stranger with his kind ways, not the new birds and plants, but the +smell of the Wintergreen. + +Smell's appeal to the memory is far better, stronger, more real than +that of any other sense. The Indians know this; many of them, in time, +find out the smell that conjures up their happiest hours, and keep it +by them in the medicine bag. It is very real and dear to them--that +handful of Pine needles, that lump of Rat-musk, or that piece of +Spruce gum. It adds the crown of happy memory to their reveries. + +And yet this belief is one of the first attacked by silly White-men, +who profess to enlighten the Red-man's darkness. They, in their +ignorance, denounce it as absurd, while men of science know its simple +truth. + +Yan did not know that he had stumbled on a secret of the Indian +medicine bag. But ever afterward that wonderful day was called back to +him, conjured up by his "medicine," this simple, natural magic, the +smell of the Wintergreen. + +He appreciated that morning more than he could tell, and yet he did a +characteristic foolish thing, that put him in a wrong light and left +him so in the stranger's mind. + +It was past noon. They had long lingered; the Stranger spoke of the +many things he had at home; then at length said he must be going. +"Weel, good-by, laddie; Ah hope Ah'll see you again." He held out his +hand. Yan shook it warmly; but he was dazed with thinking and with +reaction; his diffidence and timidity were strong; he never rose to +the stranger's veiled offer. He let him go without even learning his +name or address. + +When it was too late, Yan awoke to his blunder. He haunted all those +woods in hopes of chancing on him there again, but he never did. + + + + +VI + +Glenyan + + +Oh! what a song the Wild Geese sang that year! How their trumpet clang +went thrilling in his heart, to smite there new and hidden chords that +stirred and sang response. Was there ever a nobler bird than that +great black-necked Swan, that sings not at his death, but in his flood +of life, a song of home and of peace--of stirring deeds and hunting +in far-off climes--of hungerings and food, and raging thirsts to meet +with cooling drink. A song of wind and marching, a song of bursting +green and grinding ice--of Arctic secrets and of hidden ways. A song +of a long black marsh, a low red sky, and a sun that never sets. + +An Indian jailed for theft bore bravely through the winter, but when +the springtime brought the Gander-clang in the black night sky, he +started, fell, and had gone to his last, long, hunting home. + +Who can tell why Jericho should fall at the trumpet blast? + +Who can read or measure the power of the Honker-song? + +Oh, what a song the Wild Geese sang that year! And yet, was it a new +song? No, the old, old song, but Yan heard it with new ears. He was +learning to read its message. He wandered on their trailless track, as +often as he could, northward, ever northward, up the river from the +town, and up, seeking the loneliest ways and days. The river turned to +the east, but a small stream ran into it from the north: up that Yan +went through thickening woods and walls that neared each other, on and +up until the walls closed to a crack, then widened out into a little +dale that was still full of original forest trees. Hemlock, Pine, +Birch and Elm of the largest size abounded and spread over the clear +brook a continuous shade. Fox vines trailed in the open places, the +rarest wild-flowers flourished, Red-squirrels chattered from the +trees. In the mud along the brook-side were tracks of Coon and Mink +and other strange fourfoots. And in the trees overhead, the Veery, the +Hermit-thrush, or even a Woodthrush sang his sweetly solemn strain, in +that golden twilight of the midday forest. Yan did not know them all +by name as yet, but he felt their vague charm and mystery. It seemed +such a far and lonely place, so unspoiled by man, that Yan persuaded +himself that surely he was the first human being to stand there, that +it was his by right of discovery, and so he claimed it and named it +after its discoverer--Glenyan. + +This place became the central thought in his life. He went there at +all opportunities, but never dared to tell any one of his discovery. +He longed for a confidant sometimes, he hankered to meet the stranger +and take him there, and still he feared that the secret would get out. +This was his little kingdom; the Wild Geese had brought him here, as +the Seagulls had brought Columbus to a new world--where he could lead, +for brief spells, the woodland life that was his ideal. He was tender +enough to weep over the downfall of a lot of fine Elm trees in town, +when their field was sold for building purposes, and he used to suffer +a sort of hungry regret when old settlers told how plentiful the Deer +used to be. But now he had a relief from these sorrows, for surely +there was one place where the great trees should stand and grow as in +the bright bygone; where the Coon, the Mink and the Partridge should +live and flourish forever. No, indeed, no one else should know of it, +for if the secret got out, at least hosts of visitors would come and +Glenyan be defiled. No, better that the secret should "die with him," +he said. What that meant he did not really know, but he had read the +phrase somewhere and he liked the sound of it. Possibly he would +reveal it on his deathbed. + +Yes, that was the proper thing, and he pictured a harrowing scene of +weeping relatives around, himself as central figure, all ceasing their +wailing and gasping with wonder as he made known the mighty secret of +his life--delicious! it was almost worth dying for. + +So he kept the place to himself and loved it more and more. He would +look out through the thick Hemlock tops, the blots of Basswood green +or the criss-cross Butternut leafage and say: "My own, my own." Or +down by some pool in the limpid stream he would sit and watch the +arrowy Shiners and say: "You are mine, all; you are mine. You shall +never be harmed or driven away." + +A spring came from the hillside by a green lawn, and here Yan would +eat his sandwiches varied with nuts and berries that he did not like, +but ate only because he was a wildman, and would look lovingly up the +shady brookland stretches and down to the narrow entrance of the glen, +and say and think and feel. "This is mine, my own, my very own." + + + + +VII + +The Shanty + + +He had none but the poorest of tools, but he set about building a +shanty. He was not a resourceful boy. His effort to win the book +had been an unusual one for him, as his instincts were not at all +commercial. When that matter came to the knowledge of the Home +Government, he was rebuked for doing "work unworthy of a gentleman's +son" and forbidden under frightful penalties "ever again to resort to +such degrading ways of raising money." + +They gave him no money, so he was penniless. Most boys would have +possessed themselves somehow of a good axe and spade. He had neither. +An old plane blade, fastened to a stick with nails, was all the axe +and spade he had, yet with this he set to work and offset its poorness +as a tool by dogged persistency. First, he selected the quietest +spot near the spring--a bank hidden by a mass of foliage. He knew no +special reason for hiding it, beyond the love of secrecy. He had +read in some of his books "how the wily scouts led the way through a +pathless jungle, pulled aside a bough and there revealed a comfortable +dwelling that none without the secret could possibly have discovered," +so it seemed very proper to make it a complete mystery--a sort of +secret panel in the enchanted castle--and so picture himself as the +wily scout leading his wondering companions to the shanty, though, of +course, he had not made up his mind to reveal his secret to any one. +He often wished he could have the advantage of Rad's strong arms and +efficacious tools; but the workshop incident was only one of many that +taught him to leave his brother out of all calculation. + +Mother Earth is the best guardian of a secret, and Yan with his crude +spade began by digging a hole in the bank. The hard blue clay made the +work slow, but two holidays spent in steady labour resulted in a hole +seven feet wide and about four feet into the bank. + +In this he set about building the shanty. Logs seven or eight feet +long must be got to the place--at least twenty-five or thirty would +be needed, and how to cut and handle them with his poor axe was a +question. Somehow, he never looked for a better axe. The half-formed +notion that the Indians had no better was sufficient support, and he +struggled away bravely, using whatever ready sized material he could +find. Each piece as he brought it was put into place. Some boys would +have gathered the logs first and built it all at once, but that +was not Yan's way; he was too eager to see the walls rise. He had +painfully and slowly gathered logs enough to raise the walls three +rounds, when the question of a door occurred to him. This, of course, +could not be cut through the logs in the ordinary way; that required +the best of tools. So he lifted out all the front logs except the +lowest, replacing them at the ends with stones and blocks to sustain +the sides. This gave him the sudden gain of two logs, and helped the +rest of the walls that much. The shanty was now about three feet high, +and no two logs in it were alike: some were much too long, most were +crooked and some were half rotten, for the simple reason that these +were the only ones he could cut. He had exhausted the logs in the +neighbourhood and was forced to go farther. Now he remembered seeing +one that might do, half a mile away on the home trail (they were +always "trails"; he never called them "roads" or "paths"). He went +after this, and to his great surprise and delight found that it was +one of a dozen old cedar posts that had been cut long before and +thrown aside as culls, or worthless. He could carry only one at a +time, so that to bring each one meant a journey of a mile, and the +post got woefully heavy each time before that mile was over. To +get those twelve logs he had twelve miles to walk. It took several +Saturdays, but he stuck doggedly to it. Twelve good logs completed +his shanty, making it five feet high and leaving three logs over for +rafters. These he laid flat across, dividing the spaces equally. Over +them he laid plenty of small sticks and branches till it was thickly +covered. Then he went down to a rank, grassy meadow and, with his +knife, cut hay for a couple of hours. This was spread thickly on the +roof, to be covered with strips of Elm bark then on top of all he +threw the clay dug from the bank, piling it well back, stamping on it, +and working it down at the edges. Finally, he threw rubbish and leaves +over it, so that it was confused with the general tangle. + +Thus the roof was finished, but the whole of the front was open. He +dreaded the search for more logs, so tried a new plan. He found, +first, some sticks about six feet long and two or three inches +through. Not having an axe to sharpen and drive them, he dug pairs of +holes a foot deep, one at each end and another pair near the middle of +the front ground log. + +Into each of these he put a pair of upright sticks, leading up to the +eave log, one inside and one outside of it, then packed the earth +around them in the holes. Next, he went to the brook-side and cut a +number of long green willow switches about half an inch thick at the +butt. These switches he twisted around the top of each pair of stakes +in a figure 8, placing them to hold the stake tight against the bottom +and top logs at the front. + +Down by the spring he now dug a hole and worked water and clay +together into mortar, then with a trowel cut out of a shingle, and +mortar carried in an old bucket, he built a wall within the stakes, +using sticks laid along the outside and stones set in mud till the +front was closed up, except a small hole for a window and a large hole +for a door. + +Now he set about finishing the inside. He gathered moss in the woods +and stuffed all the chinks in the upper parts, and those next the +ground he filled with stones and earth. Thus the shanty was finished; +but it lacked a door. + +The opening was four feet high and two feet wide, so in the woodshed +at home he cut three boards, each eight inches wide and four feet +high, but he left at each end of one a long point. Doing this at home +gave him the advantage of a saw. Then with these and two shorter +boards, each two feet long and six inches wide, he sneaked out to +Glenyan, and there, with some nails and a stone for a hammer, he +fastened them together into a door. In the ground log he pecked a hole +big enough to receive one of the points and made a corresponding hole +in the under side of the top log. Then, prying up the eave log, he put +the door in place, let the eave log down again, and the door was hung. +A string to it made an outside fastening when it was twisted around a +projecting snag in the wall, and a peg thrust into a hole within made +an inside fastener. Some logs, with fir boughs and dried grass, formed +a bunk within. This left only the window, and for lack of better cover +he fastened over it a piece of muslin brought from home. But finding +its dull white a jarring note, he gathered a quart of butternuts, and +watching his chance at home, he boiled the cotton in water with the +nuts and so reduced it to a satisfactory yellowish brown. + +His final task was to remove all appearance of disturbance and to +fully hide the shanty in brush and trailing vines. Thus, after weeks +of labour, his woodland home was finished. It was only five feet high +inside, six feet long and six feet wide--dirty and uncomfortable--but +what a happiness it was to have it. + +Here for the first time in his life he began to realize something +of the pleasure of single-handed achievement in the line of a great +ambition. + + + + +VIII + +Beginnings of Woodlore + + +During this time Yan had so concentrated all his powers on the shanty +that he had scarcely noticed the birds and wild things. Such was his +temperament--one idea only, and that with all his strength. + +His heart was more and more in his kingdom now he longed to come +and live here. But he only dared to dream that some day he might be +allowed to pass a night in the shanty. This was where he would lead +his ideal life--the life of an Indian with all that is bad and cruel +left out. Here he would show men how to live without cutting down all +the trees, spoiling all the streams, and killing every living thing. +He would learn how to get the fullest pleasure out of the woods +himself and then teach others how to do the same. Though the birds and +Fourfoots fascinated him, he would not have hesitated to shoot one +had he been able, but to see a tree cut down always caused him +great distress. Possibly he realized that the bird might be quickly +replaced, but the tree, never. + +To carry out his plan he must work hard at school, for books had +much that he needed. Perhaps some day he might get a chance to see +Audubon's drawings, and so have all his bird worries settled by a +single book. + +That summer a new boy at school added to Yan's savage equipment. This +boy was neither good nor bright; he was a dunce, and had been expelled +from a boarding school for misconduct, but he had a number of +schoolboy accomplishments that gave him a tinge of passing glory. +He could tie a lot of curious knots in a string. He could make a +wonderful birdy warble, and he spoke a language that he called Tutnee. +Yan was interested in all, but especially the last. He teased and +bribed till he was admitted to the secret. It consisted in spelling +every word, leaving the five vowels as they are, but doubling each +consonant and putting a "u" between. Thus "b" became "bub," "d" "dud," +"m" "mum," and so forth, except that "c" was "suk," "h" "hash," "x" +"zux," and "w" "wak." + +The sample given by the new boy, "sus-hash-u-tut u-pup yak-o-u-rur +mum-o-u-tut-hash," was said to be a mode of enjoining silence. + +This language was "awful useful," the new boy said, to keep the other +fellows from knowing what you were saying, which it certainly did. Yan +practised hard at it and within a few weeks was an adept. He could +handle the uncouth sentences better than his teacher, and he was +singularly successful in throwing in accents and guttural tones that +imparted a delightfully savage flavour, and he rejoiced in jabbering +away to the new boy in the presence of others so that he might bask in +the mystified look on the faces of those who were not skilled in the +tongue of the Tutnees. + +He made himself a bow and arrows. They were badly made and he could +hit nothing with them, but he felt so like an Indian when he drew the +arrow to its head, that it was another pleasure. + +He made a number of arrows with hoop-iron heads, these he could +file at home in the woodshed. The heads were jagged and barbed and +double-barbed. These arrows were frightful-looking things. They seemed +positively devilish in their ferocity, and were proportionately +gratifying. These he called his "war arrows," and would send one into +a tree and watch it shiver, then grunt "Ugh, heap good," and rejoice +in the squirming of the imaginary foe he had pierced. + +He found a piece of sheepskin and made of it a pair of very poor +moccasins. He ground an old castaway putty knife into a scalping +knife; the notch in it for breaking glass was an annoying defect until +he remembered that some Indians decorate their weapons with a notch +for each enemy it has killed, and this, therefore, might do duty as a +kill-tally. He made a sheath for the knife out of scraps of leather +left off the moccasins. Some water-colours, acquired by a school swap, +and a bit of broken mirror held in a split stick, were necessary parts +of his Indian toilet. His face during the process of make-up was +always a battle-ground between the horriblest Indian scowl +and a grin of delight at his success in diabolizing his visage with +the paints. Then with painted face and a feather in his hair he would +proudly range the woods in his little kingdom and store up every scrap +of woodlore he could find, invent or learn from his schoolmates. + +[Illustration: Yan's toilet] + +Odd things that he found in the woods he would bring to his shanty: +curled sticks, feathers, bones, skulls, fungus, shells, an old +cowhorn--things that interested him, he did not know why. He made +Indian necklaces of the shells, strung together alternately with +the backbone of a fish. He let his hair grow as long as possible, +employing various stratagems, even the unpalatable one of combing it +to avoid the monthly trim of the maternal scissors. He lay for hours +with the sun beating on his face to correct his colour to standard, +and the only semblance of personal vanity that he ever had was +pleasure in hearing disparaging remarks about the darkness of his +complexion. He tried to do everything as an Indian would do it, +striking Indian poses, walking carefully with his toes turned in, +breaking off twigs to mark a place, guessing at the time by the sun, +and grunting "Ugh" or "Wagh" when anything surprised him. Disparaging +remarks about White-men, delivered in supposed Indian dialect, were +an important part of his pastime. "Ugh, White-men heap no good" and +"Wagh, paleface--pale fool in woods," were among his favourites. + +He was much influenced by phrases that caught his ear. "The brown +sinewy arm of the Indian," was one of them. It discovered to him that +his own arms were white as milk. There was, however, a simple remedy. +He rolled up his sleeves to the shoulder and exposed them to the full +glare of the sun. Then later, under the spell of the familiar phrase, +"The warrior was naked to the waist," he went a step further--he +determined to be brown to the waist--so discarded his shirt during the +whole of one holiday. He always went to extremes. He remembered now +that certain Indians put their young warriors through an initiation +called the Sun-dance, so he danced naked round the fire in the blazing +sun and sat around naked all one day. + +He noticed a general warmness before evening, but it was at night that +he really felt the punishment of his indiscretion. He was in a burning +heat. He scarcely slept all night. Next day he was worse, and his arm +and shoulder were blistered. He bore it bravely, fearing only that the +Home Government might find it out, in which case he would have fared +worse. He had read that the Indians grease the skin for sunburn, so he +went to the bathroom and there used goose grease for lack of Buffalo +fat. This did give some relief, and in a few days he was better and +had the satisfaction of peeling the dead skin from his shoulders and +arms. + +Yan made a number of vessels out of Birch bark, stitching the edges +with root fibers, filling the bottom with a round wooden disc, and +cementing the joints with pine gum so that they would hold water. + +In the distant river he caught some Catfish and brought them +home--that, is, to his shanty. There he made a fire and broiled +them--very badly--but he ate them as a great delicacy. The sharp bone +in each of their side fins he saved, bored a hole through its thick +end, smoothed it, and so had needles to stitch his Birch bark. He kept +them in a bark box with some lumps of resin, along with some bark +fiber, an Indian flint arrow-head given him by a schoolmate, and +the claws of a large Owl, found in the garbage heap back of the +taxidermist's shop. + +One day on the ash heap in their own yard in town he saw a new, +strange bird. He was always seeing new birds, but this was of unusual +interest. He drew its picture as it tamely fed near him. A dull, ashy +gray, with bronzy yellow spots on crown and rump, and white bars on +its wings. His "Birds of Canada" gave no light; he searched through +all the books he could find, but found no clew to its name. It was +years afterward before he learned that this was the young male Pine +Grosbeak. + +Another day, under the bushes not far from his shanty, he found a +small Hawk lying dead. He clutched it as a wonderful prize, spent an +hour in looking at its toes, its beak, its wings, its every feather; +then he set to work to make a drawing of it. A very bad drawing it +proved, although it was the labour of days, and the bird was crawling +with maggots before he had finished. But every feather and every spot +was faithfully copied, was duly set down on paper. One of his +friends said it was a Chicken-hawk. That name stuck in Yan's memory. +Thenceforth the Chicken-hawk and its every marking were familiar to +him. Even in after years, when he had learned that this must have been +a young "Sharp-shin," the name "Chicken-hawk" was always readier on +his lips. + +But he met with another and a different Hawk soon afterward. This one +was alive and flitting about in the branches of a tree over his head. +It was very small--less than a foot in length. Its beak was very +short, its legs, wings and tail long; its head was bluish and its back +coppery red; on the tail was a broad, black crossbar. As the bird flew +about and balanced on the boughs, it pumped its tail. This told him +it was a Hawk, and the colours he remembered were those of the male +Sparrow-hawk, for here his bird book helped with its rude travesty of +"Wilson's" drawing of this bird. Yet two other birds he saw close at +hand and drew partly from memory. The drawings were like this, and +from the picture on a calendar he learned that one was a Rail; from +a drawing in the bird book that the other was a Bobolink. And these +names he never forgot. He had his doubts about the sketching at +first--it seemed an un-Indian thing to do, until he remembered that +the Indians painted pictures on their shields and on their teepees. It +was really the best of all ways for him to make reliable observation. + +The bookseller of the town had some new books in his window about this +time. One, a marvellous work called "Poisonous Plants," Yan was eager +to see. It was exposed in the window for a time. Two of the large +plates were visible from the street; one was Henbane, the other +Stramonium. Yan gazed at them as often as he could. In a week they +were gone; but the names and looks were forever engraved on his +memory. Had he made bold to go in and ask permission to see the work, +his memory would have seized most of it in an hour. + + + + +IX + +Tracks + + +In the wet sand down by the edge of the brook he one day found some +curious markings--evidently tracks. Yan pored over them, then made a +life-size drawing of one. He shrewdly suspected it to be the track of +a Coon--nothing was too good or wild or rare for his valley. As soon +as he could, he showed the track to the stableman whose dog was said +to have killed a Coon once, and hence the man must be an authority on +the subject. + +"Is that a Coon track?" asked Yan timidly. + +"How do I know?" said the man roughly, and went on with his work. But +a stranger standing near, a curious person with shabby clothes, and +a new silk hat on the back of his head, said, "Let me see it." Yan +showed it. + +"Is it natural size?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Yep, that's a Coon track, all right. You look at all the big trees +near about whar you saw that; then when you find one with a hole in +it, you look on the bark and you will find some Coon hars. Then you +will know you've got a Coon tree." + +[Illustration: The Coon track] + +Yan took the earliest chance. He sought and found a great Basswood +with some gray hairs caught in the bark. He took them home with him, +not sure what kind they were. He sought the stranger, but he was gone, +and no one knew him. + +How to identify the hairs was a question; but he remembered a friend +who had a Coon-skin carriage robe. A few hairs of these were compared +with those from the tree and left no doubt that the climber was a +Coon. Thus Yan got the beginning of the idea that the very hairs of +each, as well as its tracks, are different. He learned, also, how wise +it is to draw everything that he wished to observe or describe. It +was accident, or instinct on his part, but he had fallen on a sound +principle; there is nothing like a sketch to collect and convey +accurate information of form--there is no better developer of true +observation. + +One day he noticed a common plant like an umbrella. He dug it up by +the root, and at the lower end he found a long white bulb. He tasted +this. It was much like a cucumber. He looked up "Gray's School +Botany," and in the index saw the name, Indian Cucumber. The +description seemed to tally, as far as he could follow its technical +terms, though like all such, without a drawing it was far from +satisfactory. So he added the Indian Cucumber to his woodlore. + +On another occasion he chewed the leaves of a strange plant because he +had heard that that was the first test applied by the Indians. He soon +began to have awful pains in his stomach. He hurried home in agony. +His mother gave him mustard and water till he vomited, then she boxed +his ears. His father came in during the process and ably supplemented +the punishment. He was then and there ordered to abstain forever from +the woods. Of course, he did not. He merely became more cautious about +it all, and enjoyed his shanty with the added zest of secret sin. + + + + +X + +Biddy's Contribution + + +An Irish-Canadian servant girl from Sanger now became a member of +their household. Her grandmother was an herb-doctor in great repute. +She had frequently been denounced as a witch, although in good +standing as a Catholic. This girl had picked up some herb-lore, and +one day when all the family were visiting the cemetery she darted into +various copses and produced plants which she named, together with the +complaint that her grandmother used them for. + +"Sassafras, that makes tea for skin disease; Ginseng, that's good to +sell; Bloodroot for the blood in springtime; Goldthread, that cures +sore mouths; Pipsissewa for chills and fever; White-man's Foot, that +springs up wherever a White-man treads; Indian cup, that grows where +an Indian dies; Dandelion roots for coffee; Catnip tea for a cold; +Lavender tea for drinking at meals; Injun Tobacco to mix with boughten +tobacco; Hemlock bark to dye pink; Goldthread to dye yellow, and +Butternut rinds for greenish." + +All of these were passing trifles to the others, but to Yan they were +the very breath of life, and he treasured up all of these things +in his memory. Biddy's information was not unmixed with error and +superstition: + +"Hold Daddy Longlegs by one leg and say, 'tell me where the cows are,' +and he will point just right under another leg, and onct he told me +where to find my necklace when I lost it. + +"Shoot the Swallows and the cows give bloody milk. That's the way old +Sam White ruined his milk business--shooting Swallows. + +"Lightning never strikes a barn where Swallows nest. Paw never rested +easy after the new barn was built till the Swallows nested in it. He +had it insured for a hundred dollars till the Swallows got round to +look after it. + +"When a Measuring-worm crawls on you, you are going to get a new suit +of clothes. My brother-in-law says they walk over him every year in +summer and sure enough, he gets a new suit. But they never does it in +winter, cause he don't get new clothes then. + +"Split a Crow's tongue and he will talk like a girl. Granny knowed a +man that had a brother back of Mara that got a young Crow and +split his tongue an' he told Granny it was _just_ like a girl +talking--an' Granny told me! + +"Soak a Horse-hair in rainwater and it will turn into a Snake. Ain't +there lots uv Snakes around ponds where Horses drink? Well! + +"Kill a Spider an' it will rain to-morrow. Now, that's worth knowin'. +I mind one year when the Orangeman's picnic was comin', 12th of July, +Maw made us catch twenty Spiders and we killed them all the day +before, and law, how it did rain on the picnic! Mebbe we didn't laugh. +Most of them hed to go home in boats, that's what our paper said. But +next year they done the same thing on us for St. Patrick's Day, but +Spiders is scarce on the 16th of March, an' it didn't rain so much as +snow, so it was about a stand-off. + +"Toads gives warts. You seen them McKenna twins--their hands is a +sight with warts. Well, I seen them two boys playing with Toads like +they was marbles. So! An' they might a-knowed what was comin'. Ain't +every Toad just covered with warts as thick as he can stick? + +"That there's Injun tobacco. The Injuns always use it, and Granny +does, too, sometimes." (Yan made special note of this--he must get +some and smoke it, if it was _Indian_.) + +"A Witch-hazel wand will bob over a hidden spring and show where to +dig. Denny Scully is awful good at it. He gets a dollar for showing +where to sink a well, an' if they don't strike water it's because they +didn't dig where he said, or spiled the charm some way or nuther, and +hez to try over. + +"Now, that's Dandelion. Its roots makes awful good coffee. Granny +allers uses it. She says that it is healthier than store coffee, but +Maw says she likes boughten things best, and the more they cost the +better she likes them. + +"Now, that's Ginseng. It has a terrible pretty flower in spring. +There's tons and tons of it sent to China. Granny says the Chinese +eats it, to make them cheerful, but they don't seem to eat enough. + +"There's Slippery Elm. It's awfully good for loosening up a cold, if +you drink the juice the bark's bin biled in. One spring Granny made a +bucketful. She set it outside to cool, an' the pig he drunk it all up, +an' he must a had a cold, for it loosened him up so he dropped his +back teeth. I seen them myself lying out there in the yard. Yes, I +did. + +"That's Wintergreen. Lots of boys I know chew that to make the girls +like them. Lots of them gits a beau that way, too. I done it myself +many's a time. + +"Now, that is what some folks calls Injun Turnip, an' the children +calls it Jack-in-a-Pulpit, but Granny calls it 'Sorry-plant,' cos she +says when any one eats it it makes them feel sorry for the last fool +thing they done. I'll put some in your Paw's coffee next time he licks +yer and mebbe that'll make him quit. It just makes me sick to see ye +gettin' licked fur every little thing ye can't help. + +"A Snake's tongue is its sting. You put your foot on a Snake and see +how he tries to sting you. An' his tail don't die till sundown. I seen +that myself, onct, an' Granny says so, too, an' what Granny don't know +ain't knowledge--it's only book-larnin'." + +These were her superstitions, most of them more or less obviously +absurd to Yan; but she had also a smattering of backwoods lore and Yan +gleaned all he could. + +She had so much of what he wanted to know that he had almost made up +his mind to tell her where he went each Saturday when he had finished +his work. + +A week or two longer and she would have shared the great secret, but +something took place to end their comradeship. + + + + +XI + +Lung Balm + + +One day as this girl went with him through a little grove on the edge +of the town, she stopped at a certain tree and said: + +"If that ain't Black-cherry!" + +"You mean Choke-cherry." + +"No, Black-cherry. Choke-cherry ain't no good; but Black-cherry bark's +awful good for lung complaint. Grandma always keeps it. I've been +feeling a bit queer meself" [she was really as strong as an ox]. +"Guess I'll git some." So she and Yan planned an expedition together. +The boldness of it scared the boy. The girl helped herself to a +hatchet in the tool box--the sacred tool box of his father. + +Yan's mother saw her with it and demanded why she had it. With ready +effrontery she said it was to hammer in the hook that held the +clothesline, and proceeded to carry out the lie with a smiling face. +That gave Yan a new lesson and not a good one. The hatchet was at once +put back in the box, to be stolen more carefully later on. + +Biddy announced that she was going to the grocery shop. She met Yan +around the corner and they made for the lot. Utterly regardless of +property rights, she showed Yan how to chip off the bark of the +Black-cherry. "Don't chip off all around; that's bad luck--take it +on'y from the sunny side." She filled a basket with the pieces and +they returned home. + +Here she filled a jar with bits of the inner layer, then, pouring +water over it, let it stand for a week. The water was then changed to +a dark brown stuff with a bitter taste and a sweet, aromatic smell. + +"It's terrible good," she said. "Granny always keeps it handy. It +cures lots of people. Now there was Bud Ellis--the doctors just guv +him up. They said he didn't have a single lung left, and he come +around to Granny. He used to make fun of Granny; but now he wuz plumb +scairt. At first Granny chased him away; then when she seen that he +was awful sick, she got sorry and told him how to make Lung Balm. He +was to make two gallons each time and bring it to her. Then she took +and fixed it so it was one-half as much and give it back to him. Well, +in six months if he wasn't all right." + +Biddy now complained nightly of "feelin's" in her chest. These +feelings could be controlled only by a glass or two of Lung Balm. +Her condition must have been critical, for one night after several +necessary doses of Balm her head seemed affected. She became +abusive to the lady of the house and at the end of the month a less +interesting help was in her place. + +There were many lessons good and bad that Yan might have drawn from +this; but the only one that he took in was that the Black-cherry bark +is a wonderful remedy. The family doctor said that it really was so, +and Yan treasured up this as a new and precious fragment of woodcraft. + +Having once identified the tree, he was surprised to see that it was +rather common, and was delighted to find it flourishing in his own +Glenyan. + +This made him set down on paper all the trees he knew, and he was +surprised to find how few they were and how uncertain he was about +them. + + Maple--hard and soft. + Beach. + Elm--swamp and slippery. + Ironwood. + Birch--white and black. + Ash--white and black. + Pine. + Cedar. + Balsam. + Hemlock and Cherry. + +He had heard that the Indians knew the name and properties of every +tree and plant in the woods, and that was what he wished to be able to +say of himself. + +One day by the bank of the river he noticed a pile of empty shells of +the fresh-water Mussel, or Clam. The shells were common enough, but +why all together and marked in the same way? Around the pile on the +mud were curious tracks and marks. There were so many that it was hard +to find a perfect one, but when he did, remembering the Coon track, +he drew a picture of it. It was too small to be the mark of his old +acquaintance. He did not find any one to tell him what it was, but one +day he saw a round, brown animal hunched up on the bank eating a clam. +It dived into the water at his approach, but it reappeared swimming +farther on. Then, when it dived again, Yan saw by its long thin +tail that it was a Muskrat, like the stuffed one he had seen in the +taxidermist's window. + +He soon learned that the more he studied those tracks the more +different kinds he found. Many were rather mysterious, so he could +only draw them and put them aside, hoping some day for light. One +of the strangest and most puzzling turned out to be the trail of a +Snapper, and another proved to be merely the track of a Common Crow +that came to the water's edge to drink. + +The curios that he gathered and stored in his shanty increased in +number and in interest. The place became more and more part of +himself. Its concealment bettered as the foliage grew around it again, +and he gloried in its wild seclusion and mystery, and wandered through +the woods with his bow and arrows, aiming harmless, deadly blows at +snickering Red-squirrels--though doubtless he would have been as sorry +as they had he really hit one. + +Yan soon found out that he was not the only resident of the shanty. +One day as he sat inside wondering why he had not made a fireplace, so +that he could sit at an indoor fire, he saw a silent little creature +flit along between two logs in the back wall. He remained still. A +beautiful little Woodmouse, for such it was, soon came out in plain +view and sat up to look at Yan and wash its face. Yan reached out for +his bow and arrow, but the Mouse was gone in a flash. He fitted a +blunt arrow to the string, then waited, and when the Mouse returned he +shot the arrow. It missed the Mouse, struck the log and bounded back +into Yan's face, giving him a stinging blow on the cheek. And as Yan +rolled around grunting and rubbing his cheek, he thought, "This is +what I tried to do to the Woodmouse." Thenceforth, Yan made no attempt +to harm the Mouse; indeed, he was willing to share his meals with it. +In time they became well acquainted, and Yan found that not one, but a +whole family, were sharing with him his shanty in the woods. + +Biddy's remark about the Indian tobacco bore fruit. Yan was not a +smoker, but now he felt he must learn. He gathered a lot of this +tobacco, put it to dry, and set about making a pipe--a real Indian +peace pipe. He had no red sandstone to make it of, but a soft red +brick did very well. He first roughed out the general shape with his +knife, and was trying to bore the bowl out with the same tool, when +he remembered that in one of the school-readers was an account of the +Indian method of drilling into stone with a bow-drill and wet sand. +One of his schoolmates, the son of a woodworker, had seen his father +use a bow-drill. This knowledge gave him new importance in Yan's eyes. +Under his guidance a bow-drill was made, and used much and on many +things till it was understood, and now it did real Indian service by +drilling the bowl and stem holes of the pipe. + +He made a stem of an Elderberry shoot, punching out the pith at home +with a long knitting-needle. Some white pigeon wing feathers trimmed +small, and each tipped with a bit of pitch, were strung on a stout +thread and fastened to the stem for a finishing touch; and he would +sit by his camp fire solemnly smoking--a few draws only, for he did +not like it--then say, "Ugh, heap hungry," knock the ashes out, and +proceed with whatever work he had on hand. + +Thus he spent the bright Saturdays, hiding his accouterments each +day in his shanty, washing the paint from his face in the brook, and +replacing the hated paper collar that the pride and poverty of his +family made a daily necessity, before returning home. He was a little +dreamer, but oh! what happy dreams. Whatever childish sorrow he found +at home he knew he could always come out here and forget and be happy +as a king--be a real King in a Kingdom wholly after his heart, and all +his very own. + + + + +XII + +A Crisis + + +At school he was a model boy except in one respect--he had strange, +uncertain outbreaks of disrespect for his teachers. One day he amused +himself by covering the blackboard with ridiculous caricatures of the +principal, whose favourite he undoubtedly was. They were rather clever +and proportionately galling. The principal set about an elaborate plan +to discover who had done them. He assembled the whole school and began +cross-examining one wretched dunce, thinking him the culprit. The lad +denied it in a confused and guilty way; the principal was convinced of +his guilt, and reached for his rawhide, while the condemned set up a +howl. To the surprise of the assembly, Yan now spoke up, and in a tone +of weary impatience said: + +"Oh, let him alone. I did it." + +His manner and the circumstances were such that every one laughed. The +principal was nettled to fury. He forgot his manhood; he seized Yan +by the collar. He was considered a timid boy; his face was white; his +lips set. The principal beat him with the rawhide till the school +cried "Shame," but he got no cry from Yan. + +That night, on undressing for bed, his brother Rad saw the long black +wales from head to foot, and an explanation was necessary. He was +incapable of lying; his parents learned of his wickedness, and new and +harsh punishments were added. Next day was Saturday. He cut his usual +double or Saturday's share of wood for the house, and, bruised and +smarting, set out for the one happy spot he knew. The shadow lifted +from his spirit as he drew near. He was already forming a plan for +adding a fireplace and chimney to his house. He followed the secret +path he had made with aim to magnify its secrets. He crossed the open +glade, was, nearly at the shanty, when he heard voices--loud, coarse +voices--_coming from his shanty_. He crawled up close. The door +was open. There in his dear cabin were three tramps playing cards and +drinking out of a bottle. On the ground beside them were his shell +necklaces broken up to furnish poker chips. In a smouldering fire +outside were the remains of his bow and arrows. + +Poor Yan! His determination to be like an Indian under torture +had sustained him in the teacher's cruel beating and in his home +punishments, but this was too much. He fled to a far and quiet corner +and there flung himself down and sobbed in grief and rage--he would +have killed them if he could. After an hour or two he came trembling +back to see the tramps finish their game and their liquor; then they +defiled the shanty and left it in ruins. + +The brightest thing in his life was gone--a King discrowned, +dethroned. Feeling now every wale on his back and legs, he sullenly +went home. + +This was late in the summer. Autumn followed last, with shortening +days and chilly winds. Yan had no chance to see his glen, even had he +greatly wished it. He became more studious; books were his pleasure +now. He worked harder than ever, winning honour at school, but +attracting no notice at the home, where piety reigned. + +The teachers and some of the boys remarked that Yan was getting very +thin and pale. Never very robust, he now looked like an invalid; but +at home no note was taken of the change. His mother's thoughts were +all concentrated on his scapegrace younger brother. For two years she +had rarely spoken to Yan peaceably. There was a hungry place in +his heart as he left the house unnoticed each morning and saw his +graceless brother kissed and darlinged. At school their positions +were reversed. Yan was the principal's pride. He had drawn no more +caricatures, and the teacher flattered himself that that beating was +what had saved the pale-faced head boy. + +He grew thinner and heart-hungrier till near Christmas, when the +breakdown came. + + * * * * * + +"He is far gone in consumption," said the physician. "He cannot live +over a month or two" + +[Illustration: "There in his dear cabin were three tramps"] + +"He _must_ live," sobbed the conscience-stricken mother. "He must +live--O God, he must live." + +All that suddenly awakened mother's love could do was done. The +skilful physician did his best, but it was the mother that saved him. +She watched over him night and day; she studied his wishes and comfort +in every way. She prayed by his bedside, and often asked God to +forgive her for her long neglect. It was Yan's first taste of +mother-love. Why she had ignored him so long was unknown. She was +simply erratic, but now she awoke to his brilliant gifts, his steady, +earnest life, already purposeful. + + + + +XIII + +The Lynx + + +As winter waned, Yan's strength returned. He was wise enough to use +his new ascendency to get books. The public librarian, a man of broad +culture who had fought his own fight, became interested in him, and +helped him to many works that otherwise he would have missed. + +"Wilson's Ornithology" and "Schoolcraft's Indians" were the most +important. And they were sparkling streams in the thirst-parched land. + +In March he was fast recovering. He could now take long walks; and one +bright day of snow he set off with his brother's Dog. His steps bent +hillward. The air was bright and bracing, he stepped with unexpected +vigour, and he made for far Glenyan, without at first meaning to go +there. But, drawn by the ancient attraction, he kept on. The secret +path looked not so secret, now the leaves were off; but the Glen +looked dearly familiar as he reached the wider stretch. + +His eye fell on a large, peculiar track quite fresh in the snow. It +was five inches across, big enough for a Bear track, but there were no +signs of claws or toe pads. The steps were short and the tracks had +not sunken as they would for an animal as heavy as a Bear. + +As one end of each showed the indications of toes, he could see what +way it went, and followed up the Glen. The dog sniffed at it uneasily, +but showed no disposition to go ahead. Yan tramped up past the ruins +of his shanty, now painfully visible since the leaves had fallen, and +his heart ached at the sight. The trail led up the valley, and crossed +the brook on a log, and Yan became convinced that he was on the track +of a large Lynx. Though a splendid barker, Grip, the dog, was known to +be a coward, and now he slunk behind the boy, sniffing at the great +track and absolutely refusing to go ahead. + +Yan was fascinated by the long rows of footprints, and when he came +to a place where the creature had leaped ten or twelve feet without +visible cause, he felt satisfied that he had found a Lynx, and the +love of adventure prompted him to go on, although he had not even a +stick in his hand or a knife in his pocket. He picked up the best club +he could find--a dry branch two feet long and two inches through, and +followed. The dog was now unwilling to go at all; he hung back, and +had to be called at each hundred yards. + +They were at last in the dense Hemlock woods at the upper end of the +valley, when a peculiar sound like the call of a deep-voiced cat was +heard. + +_Yow! Yow! Yowl!_ + +Yan stood still. The dog, although a large and powerful retriever, +whimpered, trembled and crawled up close. + +The sound increased in volume. The yowling _meouw_ came louder, +louder and nearer, then suddenly clear and close, as though the +creature had rounded a point and entered an opening. It was positively +blood-curdling now. The dog could stand it no more; he turned and went +as fast as he could for home, leaving Yan to his fate. There was no +longer any question that it was a Lynx. Yan had felt nervous before +and the abject flight of the dog reacted on him. He realized how +defenseless he was, still weak from his illness, and he turned and +went after the dog. At first he walked. But having given in to his +fears, they increased; and as the yowling continued he finally ran his +fastest. The sounds were left behind, but Yan never stopped until he +had left the Glen and was once more in the open valley of the river. +Here he found the valiant retriever trembling all over. Yan received +him with a contemptuous kick, and, boylike, as soon as he could find +some stones, he used them till Grip was driven home. + + * * * * * + +Most lads have some sporting instinct, and his elder brother, though +not of Yan's tastes, was not averse to going gunning when there was a +prospect of sport. + +Yan decided to reveal to Rad the secret of his glen. He had never been +allowed to use a gun, but Rad had one, and Yan's vivid account of his +adventure had the desired effect. His method was characteristic. + +[Illustration: "It surely was a Lynx."] + +"Rad, would you go huntin' if there was lots to hunt?" + +"Course I would." + +"Well, I know a place not ten miles away where there are all kinds of +wild animals--hundreds of them." + +"Yes, you do, I don't think. Humph!" + +"Yes, I do; and I'll tell you, if you will promise never to tell a +soul." + +"Ba-ah!" + +"Well, I just had an adventure with a Lynx up there now, and if you +will come with your gun we can get him." + +Then Yan related all that had passed, and it lost nothing in his +telling. His brother was impressed enough to set out under Yan's +guidance on the following Saturday. + +Yan hated to reveal to his sneering, earthy-minded brother all the +joys and sorrows he had found in the Glen, but now that it seemed +compulsory he found keen pleasure in playing the part of the crafty +guide. With unnecessary caution he first led in a wrong direction, +then trying, but failing, to extort another promise of secrecy, he +turned at an angle, pointed to a distant tree, saying with all the +meaning he could put into it: "Ten paces beyond that tree is a trail +that shall lead us into the secret valley." After sundry other +ceremonies of the sort, they were near the inway, when a man came +walking through the bushes. On his shoulders he carried something. +When he came close, Yan saw to his deep disgust that that something +was the Lynx--yes, it surely was _his_ Lynx. + +They eagerly plied the man with questions. He told them that he had +killed it the day before, really. It had been prowling for the last +week or more about Kernore's bush; probably it was a straggler from up +north. + +This was all intensely fascinating to Yan, but in it was a jarring +note. Evidently this man considered the Glen--his Glen--as an +ordinary, well-known bit of bush, possibly part of his farm--not by +any means the profound mystery that Yan would have had it. + +The Lynx was a fine large one. The stripes on its face and the wide +open yellow eyes gave a peculiarly wild, tiger-like expression that +was deeply gratifying to Yan's romantic soul. + +It was not so much of an adventure as a might-have-been adventure; +but it left a deep impress on the boy, and it also illustrated the +accuracy of his instincts in identifying creatures that he had never +before seen, but knew only through the slight descriptions of very +unsatisfactory books. + + + + +XIV + +Froth + + +From now on to the spring Yan was daily gaining in strength, and he +and his mother came closer together. She tried to take an interest in +the pursuits that were his whole nature. But she also strove hard to +make him take an interest in her world. She was a morbidly religious +woman. Her conversation was bristling with Scripture texts. She had +a vast store of them--indeed, she had them all; and she used them on +every occasion possible and impossible, with bewildering efficiency. + +If ever she saw a group of young people dancing, romping, playing any +game, or even laughing heartily, she would interrupt them to say, +"Children, are you sure you can ask God's blessing on all this? Do you +think that beings with immortal souls to save should give rein to such +frivolity! I fear you are sinning, and be sure your sin will find +you out. Remember, that for every idle word and deed we must give an +account to the Great Judge of Heaven and earth." + +She was perfectly sincere in all this, but she never ceased, except +during the time of her son's illness, when, under orders from the +doctor, she avoided the painful topic of eternal happiness and tried +to simulate an interest in his pursuits. This was the blessed truce +that brought them together. + +He found a confidante for the first time since he met the collarless +stranger, and used to tell all his loves and fears among the woodfolk +and things. He would talk about this or that bird or flower, and hoped +to find out its name, till the mother would suddenly feel shocked that +any being with an immortal soul to save could talk so seriously +about anything outside of the Bible; then gently reprove her son and +herself, too, with a number of texts. + +He might reply with others, for he was well equipped. But her +unanswerable answer would be: "There is but one thing needful. What +profiteth it a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?" + +These fencing bouts grew more frequent as Yan grew stronger and the +doctor's inhibition was removed. + +After one of unusual warmth, Yan realized with a chill that all her +interest in his pursuits had been an affected one. He was silent a +long time, then said: "Mother! you like to talk about your Bible. It +tells you the things that you long to know, that you love to learn. +You would be unhappy if you went a day without reading a chapter or +two. That is your nature; God made you so. + +"I have been obliged to read the Bible all my life. Every day I read a +chapter; but I do not love it. I read it because I am forced to do it. +It tells me nothing I want to know. It does not teach me to love God, +which you say is the one thing needful. But I go out into the woods, +and every bird and flower I see stirs me to the heart with something, +I do not know what it is; only I love them: I love them with all my +strength, and they make me feel like praying when your Bible does not. +They are my Bible. This is my nature. God made me so." + +The mother was silent after this, but Yan could see that she was +praying for him as for a lost soul. + +A few days later they were out walking in the early spring morning. +A Shore-lark on a clod whistled prettily as it felt the growing +sunshine. + +Yan strained his eyes and attention to take it in. He crept up near +it. It took wing, and as it went he threw after it a short stick he +was carrying. The stick whirled over and struck the bird. It fell +fluttering. Yan rushed wildly after it and caught it in spite of his +mother's calling him back. + +He came with the bird in his hand, but it did not live many minutes. +His mother was grieved and disgusted. She said. "So this is the great +love you have for the wild things; the very first spring bird to sing +you must club to death. I do not understand your affections. Are not +two sparrows sold for one farthing, and yet not one of them falls to +the ground without the knowledge of your heavenly Father." + +Yan was crushed. He held the dead bird in his hand and said, +contradictorily, as the tears stood in his eyes, "I wish I hadn't; but +oh, it was so beautiful." + +He could not explain, because he did not understand, and yet was no +hypocrite. + +Weeks later a cheap trip gave him the chance for the first time in his +life to see Niagara. As he stood with his mother watching the racing +flood, in the gorge below the cataract, he noticed straws, bubbles and +froth, that seemed to be actually moving upstream. He said: + +"Mother, you see the froth how it seems to go up-stream." + +"Well!" + +"Yet we know it is a trifle and means nothing. We know that just below +the froth is the deep, wide, terrible, irresistible, arrowy flood, +surging all the other way." + +"Yes, my son." + +"Well, Mother, when I killed the Shore-lark, that was froth going the +wrong way, I did love the little bird. I know now why I killed it. +Because it was going away from me. If I could have seen it near and +could have touched it, or even have heard it every day, I should never +have wished to harm it. I didn't mean _to kill it_, only _to +get it_. You gather flowers because you love to keep them near you, +not because you want to destroy them. They die and you are sorry. I +only tried to gather the Shore-lark as you would a flower. It died, +and I was very, very sorry." + +"Nevertheless," the mother replied, "the merciful man is merciful unto +his beast. He who hearkens when the young Ravens cry, surely took note +of it, and in His great Book of Remembrance it is written down against +you." + +And from that time they surely drifted apart. + + + + + + +PART II + +SANGER & SAM + + + + +I + +The New Home + + +Yan was now fourteen years old long-legged, thin, and growing fast The +doctor marked this combination and said: "Send him on a farm for a +year." + +Thus it was that an arrangement was made for Yan to work for his board +at the farmhouse of William Raften of Sanger. + +Sanger was a settlement just emerging from the early or backwoods +period. + +The recognized steps are, first, the frontier or woods where all +is unbroken forest and Deer abound; next the backwoods where small +clearings appear; then a settlement where the forest and clearings are +about equal and the Deer gone; last, an agricultural district, with +mere shreds of forest remaining. + +Thirty years before, Sanger had been "taken up" by a population +chiefly from Ireland, sturdy peasantry for the most part, who brought +with them the ancient feud that has so long divided Ireland--the +bitter quarrel between the Catholics or "Dogans" (why so called none +knew) and Protestants, more usually styled "Prattisons." The colours +of the Catholics were green and white; of the Protestants orange +and blue; and hence another distinctive name of the latter was +"Orangemen." + +These two factions split the social structure in two vertically. There +were, in addition, several horizontal lines of cleavage which, like +geological seams, ran across both segments. + +In those days, the early part of the nineteenth century, the British +Government used to assist desirable persons who wished to emigrate to +Canada from Ireland. This aid consisted of a free ocean passage. Many +who could not convince the Government of their desirability and yet +could raise the money, came with them, paying their regular steerage +rate of $15. These were alike to the outside world, but not to +themselves. Those who paid their way were "passengers," and were, in +their own opinion, many social worlds above the assisted ones, who +were called "Emmy Grants." This distinction was never forgotten among +the residents of Sanger. + +Yet two other social grades existed. Every man and boy in Sanger was +an expert with the axe; was wonderfully adroit. The familiar phrase, +"He's a good man," had two accepted meanings: If obviously applied to +a settler during the regular Saturday night Irish row in the little +town of Downey's Dump, it meant he was an able man with his fists; +but if to his home life on the farm, it implied that he was unusually +dexterous with the axe. A man who fell below standard was despised. +Since the houses of hewn logs were made by their owners, they +reflected the axemen's skill. There were two styles of log +architecture; the shanty with corners criss-cross, called hog-pen +finish, and the other, the house with the corners neatly finished, +called dovetail finish. In Sanger it was a social black eye to live in +a house of the first kind. The residents were considered "scrubs" or +"riff-raff" by those whose superior axemanship had provided the +more neatly finished dwelling. A later division crept in among the +"dovetailers" themselves when a brickyard was opened. The more +prosperous settlers put up neat little brick houses. To the surprise +of all, one Phil O'Leary, a poor but prolific Dogan, leaped at once +from a hog-pen log to a fine brick, and caused no end of perplexity +to the ruling society queens, simply paralyzing the social register, +since his nine fat daughters now had claims with the best. Many, +however, whose brick houses were but five years old, denounced the +O'Learys as upstarts and for long witheld all social recognition. +William Raften, as the most prosperous man in the community, was +first to appear in red bricks. His implacable enemy, Char-less (two +syllables) Boyle, egged on by his wife, now also took the red brick +plunge, though he dispensed with masons and laid the bricks himself, +with the help of his seventeen sons. These two men, though Orangemen +both, were deadly enemies, as the wives were social rivals. Raften was +the stronger and richer man, but Boyle, whose father had paid his own +steerage rate, knew all about Raften's father, and always wound up +any discussion by hurling in Raften's teeth: "Don't talk to me, ye +upstart. Everybody knows ye are nothing but a Emmy Grant." This was +the one fly in the Raften ointment. No use denying it. His father +had accepted a free passage, true, and Boyle had received a free +homestead, but what of that--that counted for nothing. Old Boyle had +been a "PASSENGER," old Raften an "EMMY GRANT." + +This was the new community that Yan had entered, and the words Dogan +and Prattison, "green" and "orange and blue," began to loom large, +along with the ideas and animosities they stood for. + +The accent of the Sangerite was mixed. First, there was a rich Irish +brogue with many Irish words; this belonged chiefly to the old folks. +The Irish of such men as Raften was quite evident in their speech, but +not strong enough to warrant the accepted Irish spelling of books, +except when the speaker was greatly excited. The young generation +had almost no Irish accent, but all had sifted down to the peculiar +burring nasal whine of the backwoods Canadian. + +Mr. and Mrs. Raften met Yan at the station. They had supper together +at the tavern and drove him to their home, where they showed him into +the big dining-room--living-room--kitchen. Over behind the stove was +a tall, awkward boy with carroty hair and small, dark eyes set much +aslant in the saddest of faces. Mrs. Raften said, "Come, Sam, and +shake hands with Yan." Sam came sheepishly forward, shook hands in a +flabby way, and said, in drawling tones, "How-do," then retired behind +the stove to gaze with melancholy soberness at Yan, whenever he could +do so without being caught at it. Mr. and Mrs. Raften were attending +to various matters elsewhere, and Yan was left alone and miserable. +The idea of giving up college to go on a farm had been a hard one for +him to accept, but he had sullenly bowed to his father's command and +then at length learned to like the prospect of getting away from +Bonnerton into the country. After all, it was but for a year, and it +promised so much of joy. Sunday-school left behind. Church reduced to +a minimum. All his life outdoors, among fields and woods--surely this +spelled happiness; but now that he was really there, the abomination +of desolation seemed sitting on all things and the evening was one +of unalloyed misery. He had nothing to tell of, but a cloud of black +despair seemed to have settled for good on the world. His mouth was +pinching very hard and his eyes blinking to keep back the tears when +Mrs. Raften came into the room. She saw at a glance what was wrong. +"He's homesick," she said to her husband. "He'll be all right +to-morrow," and she took Yan by the hand and led him upstairs to bed. + +Twenty minutes later she came to see if he was comfortable. She tucked +the clothes in around him, then, stooping down for a good-night kiss, +she found his face wet with tears. She put her arms about him for a +moment, kissed him several times, and said, "Never mind, you will feel +all right to-morrow," then wisely left him alone. + +Whence came that load of misery and horror, or whither it went, Yan +never knew. He saw it no more, and the next morning he began to +interest himself in his new world. + +William Raften had a number of farms all in fine order and clear +of mortgages; and each year he added to his estates. He was sober, +shrewd, even cunning, hated by most of his neighbours because he was +too clever for them and kept on getting richer. His hard side was for +the world and his soft side for his family. Not that he was really +soft in any respect. He had had to fight his life-battle alone, +beginning with nothing, and the many hard knocks had hardened him, but +the few who knew him best could testify to the warm Irish heart that +continued unchanged within him, albeit it was each year farther +from the surface. His manners, even in the house, were abrupt and +masterful. There was no mistaking his orders, and no excuse for not +complying with them. To his children when infants, and to his wife +only, he was always tender, and those who saw him cold and grasping, +overreaching the sharpers of the grain market, would scarcely have +recognized the big, warm-hearted happy-looking father at home an hour +later when he was playing horse with his baby daughter or awkwardly +paying post-graduate court to his smiling wife. + +He had little "eddication," could hardly read, and was therefore +greatly impressed with the value of "book larnin'," and determined +that his own children should have the "best that money could git in +that line," which probably meant that they should read fluently. His +own reading was done on Sunday mornings, when he painfully spelled out +the important items in a weekly paper; "important" meant referring +to the produce market or the prize ring, for he had been known and +respected as a boxer, and dearly loved the exquisite details of the +latest bouts. He used to go to church with his wife once a month to +please her, and thought it very unfair therefore that she should take +no interest in his favourite hobby--the manly art. + +Although hard and even brutal in his dealings with men, he could not +bear to see an animal ill used. "The men can holler when they're hurt, +but the poor dumb baste has no protection." He was the only farmer in +the country that would not sell or shoot a worn-out horse. "The poor +brute has wurruked hard an' hez airned his kape for the rest av his +days." So Duncan, Jerry and several others were "retired" and lived +their latter days in idleness, in one case for more than ten years. + +Raften had thrashed more than one neighbour for beating a horse, and +once, on interfering, was himself thrashed, for he had the ill-luck to +happen on a prizefighter. But that had no lasting effect on him. He +continued to champion the dumb brute in his own brutal way. + +Among the neighbours the perquisites of the boys were the calfskins. +The cows' milk was needed and the calves of little value, so usually +they were killed when too young for food. The boys did the killing, +making more or less sport of it, and the skins, worth fifty cents +apiece green and twenty-five cents dry, at the tannery, were their +proper pay. Raften never allowed his son to kill the calves. "Oi can't +kill a poor innocent calf mesilf an' I won't hev me boy doin' it," he +said. Thus Sam was done out of a perquisite, and did not forget the +grievance. + +Mrs. Raften was a fine woman, a splendid manager, loving her home and +her family, her husband's loyal and ablest supporter, although she +thought that William was sometimes a "leetle hard" on the boys. They +had had a large family, but most of the children had died. Those +remaining were Sam, aged fifteen, and Minnie, aged three. + +Yan's duties were fixed at once. The poultry and half the pigs and +cows were to be his charge. He must also help Sam with various other +chores. + +There was plenty to do and clear rules about doing it. But there was +also time nearly every day for other things more in the line of his +tastes; for even if he were hard on the boys in work hours, Raften +saw to it that when they did play they should have a good time. His +roughness and force made Yan afraid of him, and as it was Raften's +way to say nothing until his mind was fully made up, and then say it +"strong," Yan was left in doubt as to whether or not he was giving +satisfaction. + + + + +II + +Sam + + +Sam Raften turned out to be more congenial than he looked. His slow, +drawling speech had given a wrong impression of stupidity, and, after +a formal showing of the house under Mr. Raften, a real investigation +was headed by Sam. "This yer's the paaar-le-r," said he, unlocking a +sort of dark cellar aboveground and groping to open what afterward +proved to be a dead, buried and almost forgotten window. In Sanger +settlement the farmhouse parlour is not a room; it is an institution. +It is kept closed all the week except when the minister calls, and +the one at Raften's was the pure type. Its furniture consisted of six +painted chairs (fifty cents each), two rockers ($1.49), one melodeon +(thirty-two bushels of wheat--the agent asked forty), a sideboard made +at home of the case the melodeon came in, one rag carpet woofed at +home and warped and woven in exchange for wool, one center-table +varnished (!) ($9.00 cash, $11.00 catalogue). On the center-table was +one tintype album, a Bible, and some large books for company use. +Though dusted once a week, they were never moved, and it was years +later before they were found to have settled permanently into the +varnish of the table. In extremely uncostly frames on the wall were +the coffin-plates of the departed members of the family. It was the +custom at Sanger to honour the dead by bringing back from the funeral +the name-plate and framing it on a black background with some supposed +appropriate scripture text. + +The general atmosphere of the room was dusty and religious as it +was never opened except on Sundays or when the parson called, which +instituted a sort of temporary Sunday, and the two small windows were +kept shut and plugged as well as muffled always, with green paper +blinds and cotton hangings. It was a thing apart from the rest of the +house--a sort of family ghost-room: a chamber of horrors, seen but +once a week. + +But it contained one thing at least of interest--something that at +once brought Sam and Yan together. This was a collection of a score +of birds' eggs. They were all mixed together in an old glass-topped +cravat box, half full of bran. None of them were labelled or properly +blown. A collector would not have given it a second glance, but it +proved an important matter. It was as though two New Yorkers, one +disguised as a Chinaman and the other as a Negro, had accidently +met in Greenland and by chance one had made the sign of the secret +brotherhood to which they both belonged. + +"Do you like these things?" said Yan, with sudden interest and warmth, +in spite of the depressing surroundings. + +"You bet," said Sam. "And I'd a-had twice as many only Da said it was +doing no good and birds was good for the farm." + +"Well, do you know their names?" + +"Wall, I should say so. I know every Bird that flies and all about it, +or putty near it," drawled Sam, with an unusual stretch for him, as he +was not given to bragging. + +"I wish I did. Can't I get some eggs to take home?" + +"No; Da said if I wouldn't take any more he'd lend me his Injun Chief +gun to shoot Rabbits with." + +"What? Are there Rabbits here?" + +"Wall, I should say so. I got three last winter." + +"But I mean _now_," said Yan, with evident disappointment. + +"They ain't so easy to get at _now_, but we can try. Some day +when all the work's done I'll ask Da for his gun." + +"When all the work's done," was a favourite expression of the Raftens +for indefinitely shelving a project, it sounded so reasonable and was +really so final. + +Sam opened up the lower door of the sideboard and got out some flint +arrow-heads picked up in the ploughing, the teeth of a Beaver dating +from the early days of the settlement, and an Owl very badly stuffed. +The sight of these precious things set Yan all ablaze. "Oh!" was all +he could say. Sam was gratified to see such effect produced by the +family possessions and explained, "Da shot that off'n the barn an' the +hired man stuffed it." + +The boys were getting on well together now. They exchanged +confidences all day as they met in doing chores. In spite of the long +interruptions, they got on so well that Sam said after supper, "Say, +Yan, I'm going to show you something, but you must promise never +to tell--Swelpye!" Of course Yan promised and added the absolutely +binding and ununderstandable word--"Swelpme." + +"Le's both go to the barn," said Sam. + +When they were half way he said: "Now I'll let on I went back +for something. You go on an' round an' I'll meet you under the +'rusty-coat' in the orchard." When they met under the big russet apple +tree, Sam closed one of his melancholy eyes and said in a voice of +unnecessary hush, "Follow me." He led to the other end of the orchard +where stood the old log house that had been the home before the +building of the brick one. It was now used as a tool house. Sam led up +a ladder to the loft (this was all wholly delightful). There at the +far end, and next the little gable pane, he again cautioned secrecy, +then when on invitation Yan had once more "swelped" himself, he +rummaged in a dirty old box and drew out a bow, some arrows, a rusty +steel trap, an old butcher knife, some fish-hooks, a flint and steel, +a box full of matches, and some dirty, greasy-looking stuff that he +said was dried meat. "You see," he explained, "I always wanted to be a +hunter, and Da was bound I'd be a dentist. Da said there was no money +in hunting, but one day he had to go to the dentist an' it cost four +dollars, an' the man wasn't half a day at the job, so he wanted me to +be a dentist, but I wanted to be a hunter, an' one day he licked me +and Bud (Bud, that's my brother that died a year ago. If you hear Ma +talk you'll think he was an angel, but I always reckoned he was a +crazy galoot, an' he was the worst boy in school by odds). Wall, Da +licked us awful for not feeding the hogs, so Bud got ready to clear +out, an' at first I felt just like he did an' said I'd go too, an' +we'd j'ine the Injuns. Anyhow, I'd sure go if ever I was licked again, +an' this was the outfit we got together. Bud wanted to steal Da's gun +an' I wouldn't. I tell you I was hoppin' mad that time, an' Bud was +wuss--but I cooled off an' talked to Bud. I says, 'Say now, Bud, it +would take about a month of travel to get out West, an' if the Injuns +didn't want nothin' but our scalps that wouldn't be no fun, an' Da +ain't really so bad, coz we sho'ly did starve them pigs so one of +'em died.' I reckon we deserved all we got--anyhow, it was all dumb +foolishness about skinnin' out, though I'd like mighty well to be a +hunter. Well, Bud died that winter. You seen the biggest coffin plate +on the wall? Well, that's him. I see Ma lookin' at it an' cryin' the +other day. Da says he'll send me to college if I'll be a dentist or a +lawyer--lawyers make lots of money: Da had a lawsuit once--an' if I +don't, he says I kin go to--you know." + +Here was Yan's own kind of mind, and he opened his heart. He told all +about his shanty in the woods and how he had laboured at and loved it. +He was full of enthusiasm as of old, boiling over with purpose and +energy, and Sam, he realized, had at least two things that he had +not--ability with tools and cool judgment. It was like having the best +parts of his brother Rad put into a real human being. And remembering +the joy of his Glen, Yan said: + +"Let's build a shanty in the woods by the creek; your father won't +care, will he?" + +"Not he, so long as the work's done." + + + + +III + +The Wigwam + + +The very next day they must begin. As soon as every chore was done +they went to the woods to select a spot. + +The brook, or "creek," as they called it, ran through a meadow, then +through a fence into the woods. This was at first open and grassy, but +farther down the creek it was joined by a dense cedar swamp. Through +this there was no path, but Sam said that there was a nice high place +beyond. The high ground seemed a long way off in the woods, though +only a hundred yards through the swamp, but it was the very place for +a camp--high, dry and open hard woods, with the creek in front and the +cedar swamp all around. Yan was delighted. Sam caught no little of the +enthusiasm, and having brought an axe, was ready to begin the shanty. +But Yan had been thinking hard all morning, and now he said: "Sam, we +don't want to be _White_ hunters. They're no good; we want to be +Indians." + +"Now, that's just where you fool yourself," said Sam. "Da says there +ain't nothin' an Injun can do that a White-man can't do better." + +"Oh, what are you talking about?" said Yan warmly. "A White hunter +can't trail a moccasined foot across a hard granite rock. A White +hunter can't go into the woods with nothing but a knife and make +everything he needs. A White hunter can't hunt with bows and arrows, +and catch game with snares, can he? And there never yet was a White +man could make a Birch canoe." Then, changing his tone, Yan went on: +"Say, now, Sam, we want to be the best kind of hunters, don't we, so +as to be ready for going out West. Let's be Injuns and do everything +like Injuns." + +After all, this had the advantage of romance and picturesqueness, and +Sam consented to "try it for awhile, anyhow." And now came the point +of Yan's argument. "Injuns don't live in shanties; they live in +teepees. Why not make a teepee instead?" + +"That would be just bully," said Sam, who had seen pictures enough to +need no description, "but what are we to make it of?" + +"Well," answered Yan, promptly assuming the leadership and rejoicing +in his ability to speak as an authority, "the Plains Injuns make their +teepees of skins, but the wood Injuns generally use Birch bark." + +"Well, I bet you can't find skins or Birch bark enough in this woods +to make a teepee big enough for a Chipmunk to chaw nuts in." + +"We can use Elm bark." + +"That's a heap easier," replied Sam, "if it'll answer, coz we cut a +lot o' Elm logs last winter and the bark'll be about willin' to peel +now. But first let's plan it out." + +This was a good move, one Yan would have overlooked. He would probably +have got a lot of material together and made the plan afterward, but +Sam had been taught to go about his work with method. + +So Yan sketched on a smooth log his remembrance of an Indian teepee. +"It seems to me it was about this shape, with the poles sticking up +like that, a hole for the smoke here and another for the door there." + +"Sounds like you hain't never seen one," remarked Sam, with more point +than politeness, "but we kin try it. Now 'bout how big?" + +Eight feet high and eight feet across was decided to be about right. +Four poles, each ten feet long, were cut in a few minutes, Yan +carrying them to a smooth place above the creek as fast as Sam cut +them. + +"Now, what shall we tie them with?" said Yan. + +"You mean for rope?" + +"Yes, only we must get everything in the woods; real rope ain't +allowed." + +"I kin fix that," said Sam; "when Da double-staked the orchard fence, +he lashed every pair of stakes at the top with Willow withes." + +"That's so--I quite forgot," said Yan. In a few minutes they were +at work trying to tie the four poles together with slippery stiff +Willows, but it was no easy matter. They had to be perfectly tight or +they would slip and fall in a heap each time they were raised, and it +seemed at length that the boys would be forced to the impropriety of +using hay wire, when they heard a low grunt, and turning, saw William +Raften standing with his hands behind him as though he had watched +them for hours. + +The boys were no little startled. Raften had a knack of turning up at +any point when something was going on, taking in the situation fully, +and then, if he disapproved, of expressing himself in a few words of +blistering mockery delivered in a rich Irish brogue. Just what view +he would take of their pastime the boys had no idea, but awaited with +uneasiness. If they had been wasting time when they should have been +working there is no question but that they would have been sent with +contumely to more profitable pursuits, but this was within their +rightful play hours, and Raften, after regarding them with a searching +look, said slowly: "Bhoys!" (Sam felt easier; his father would have +said "_Bhise_" if really angry.) "Fhat's the good o' wastin' yer +time" (Yan's heart sank) "wid Willow withes fur a job like that? They +can't be made to howld. Whoi don't ye git some hay woire or coord at +the barrun?" + +The boys were greatly relieved, but still this friendly overture might +be merely a feint to open the way for a home thrust. Sam was silent. +So Yan said, presently, "We ain't allowed to use anything but what the +Indians had or could get in the woods." + +"An' who don't allow yez?" + +"The rules." + +"Oh," said William, with some amusement. "Oi see! Hyar." + +He went into the woods looking this way and that, and presently +stopped at a lot of low shrubs. + +"Do ye know what this is, Yan?" + +"No, sir." + +"Le's see if yer man enough to break it aff." + +Yan tried. The wood was brittle enough, but the bark, thin, smooth and +pliant, was as tough as leather, and even a narrow strip defied his +strength. + +"That's Litherwood," said Raften. "That's what the Injuns used; that's +what we used ourselves in the airly days of this yer settlement." + +The boys had looked for a rebuke, and here was a helping hand. It all +turned on the fact that this was "play hours," Raften left with a +parting word: "In wan hour an' a half the pigs is fed." + +"You see Da's all right when the work ain't forgot," said Sam, with +a patronizing air. "I wonder why I didn't think o' that there +Leatherwood meself. I've often heard that that's what was used fur +tying bags in the old days when cord was scarce, an' the Injuns used +it for tying their prisoners, too. Ain't it the real stuff?" + +Several strips were now used for tying four poles together at the top, +then these four were raised on end and spread out at the bottom to +serve as the frame of the teepee, or more properly wigwam, since it +was to be made of bark. + +After consulting, they now got a long, limber Willow rod an inch +thick, and bending it around like a hoop, they tied it with +Leatherwood to each pole at a point four feet from the ground. Next +they cut four short poles to reach from the ground to this. These were +lashed at their upper ends to the Willow rod, and now they were ready +for the bark slabs. The boys went to the Elm logs and again Sam's able +use of the axe came in. He cut the bark open along the top of one log, +and by using the edge of the axe and some wooden wedges they pried off +a great roll eight feet long and four feet across. It was a pleasant +surprise to see what a wide piece of bark the small log gave them. + +Three logs yielded three fine large slabs and others yielded pieces of +various sizes. The large ones were set up against the frame so as to +make the most of them. Of course they were much too big for the top, +and much too narrow for the bottom; but the little pieces would do to +patch if some way could be found to make them stick. + +Sam suggested nailing them to the posts, and Yan was horrified at the +idea of using nails. "No Indian has any nails." + +"Well, what _would_ they use?" said Sam. + +"They used thongs, an'--an'--maybe wooden pegs. I don't know, but +seems to me that would be all right." + +"But them poles is hard wood," objected the practical Sam. "You can +drive Oak pegs into Pine, but you can't drive wooden pegs into hard +wood without you make some sort of a hole first. Maybe I'd better +bring a gimlet." + +"Now, Sam, you might just as well hire a carpenter--_that_ +wouldn't be Indian at all. Let's play it right. We'll find some way. I +believe we can tie them up with Leatherwood." + +So Sam made a sharp Oak pick with his axe, and Yan used it to pick +holes in each piece of bark and then did a sort of rude sewing till +the wigwam seemed beautifully covered in. But when they went inside +to look they were unpleasantly surprised to find how many holes +there were. It was impossible to close them all because the bark was +cracking in so many places, but the boys plugged the worst of them and +then prepared for the great sacred ceremony--the lighting of the fire +in the middle. + +They gathered a lot of dry fuel, then Yan produced a match. + +"That don't look to me very Injun," drawled Sam critically. "I don't +think Injuns has matches." + +"Well, they don't," admitted Yan, humbly. "But I haven't a flint and +steel, and don't know how to work rubbing-sticks, so we just got to +use matches, _if_ we _want_ a fire." + +"Why, of course we want a fire. I ain't kicking," said Sam. "Go ahead +with your old leg-fire sulphur stick. A camp without a fire would be +'bout like last year's bird's nest or a house with the roof off." + +Yan struck a match and put it to the wood. It went out. He struck +another--same result. Yet another went out. + +Sam remarked: + +"Pears to me you don't know much about lightin' a fire. Lemme show +you. Let the White hunter learn the Injun somethin' about the woods," +said he with a leer. + +Sam took the axe and cut some sticks of a dry Pine root. Then with his +knife he cut long curling shavings, which he left sticking in a fuzz +at the end of each stick. + +"Oh, I've seen a picture of an Indian making them. They call them +'prayer-sticks,'" said Yan. + +"Well, prayer-sticks is mighty good kindlin'" replied the other. He +struck a match, and in a minute he had a blazing fire in the middle of +the wigwam. + +"Old Granny de Neuville, she's a witch--she knows all about the woods, +and cracked Jimmy turns everything into poetry what she says. He says +she says when you want to make a fire in the woods you take-- + + "First a curl of Birch bark as dry as it kin be, + Then some twigs of soft-wood, dead, but on the tree, + Last o' all some Pine knots to make the kittle foam, + An' thar's a fire to make you think you're settin' right at home." + +"Who's Granny de Neuville?" + +"Oh, she's the old witch that lives down at the bend o' the creek." + +"What? Has she got a granddaughter named Biddy?" said Yan, suddenly +remembering that his ancient ally came from this part of Sanger. + +"Oh, my! Hain't she? Ain't Biddy a peach--drinks like a fish, talks +everybody to death about the time she resided in Bonnerton. Gits a +letter every mail begging her to come back and 'reside' with them some +more." + +"Ain't this fine," said Yan, as he sat on a pile of Fir boughs in the +wigwam. + +"Looks like the real thing," replied Sam from his seat on the other +side. "But say, Yan, don't make any more fire; it's kind o' warm here, +an' there seems to be something wrong with that flue--wants sweepin', +prob'ly--hain't been swep' since I kin remember." + +The fire blazed up and the smoke increased. Just a little of it +wandered out of the smoke-hole at the top, then it decided that this +was a mistake and thereafter positively declined to use the vent. Some +of it went out by chinks, and a large stream issued from the door, but +by far the best part of it seemed satisfied with the interior of the +wigwam, so that in a minute or less both boys scrambled out. Their +eyes were streaming with smoke-tears and their discomfiture was +complete. + +"'Pears to me," observed Sam, "like we got them holes mixed. The dooer +should 'a 'been at the top, sence the smoke has a fancy for usin' it, +an' then _we'd_ had a chance." + +"The Indians make it work," said Yan; "a White hunter ought to know +how." + +"Now's the Injun's chance," said Sam. "Maybe it wants a dooer to +close, then the smoke would have to go out." + +They tried this, and of course some of the smoke was crowded out, but +not till long after the boys were. + +"Seems like what does get out by the chinks is sucked back agin by +that there double-action flue," said Sam. + +It was very disappointing. The romance of sitting by the fire in one's +teepee appealed to both of the boys, but the physical torture of +the smoke made it unbearable. Their dream was dispelled, and Sam +suggested, "Maybe we'd better try a shanty." + +"No," said Yan, with his usual doggedness. "I know it can be done, +because the Indians do it. We'll find out in time." + +But all their efforts were in vain. The wigwam was a failure, as far +as fire was concerned. It was very small and uncomfortable, too; the +wind blew through a hundred crevices, which grew larger as the Elm +bark dried and cracked. A heavy shower caught them once, and they were +rather glad to be driven into their cheerless lodge, but the rain came +abundantly into the smoke-hole as well as through the walls, and they +found it but little protection. + +[Illustration: "The wigwam was a failure."] + +"Seems to me, if anything, a _leetle_ wetter in here than +outside," said Sam, as he led in a dash for home. + +That night a heavy storm set in, and next day the boys found their +flimsy wigwam blown down--nothing but a heap of ruins. + +Some time after, Raften asked at the table in characteristic stern +style, "Bhoys, what's doin' down to yer camp? Is yer wigwam finished?" + +"No good," said Sam. "All blowed down." + +"How's that?" + +"I dunno'. It smoked like everything. We couldn't stay in it." + +"Couldn't a-been right made," said Raften; then with a sudden +interest, which showed how eagerly he would have joined in this forty +years ago, he said, "Why don't ye make a rale taypay?" + +"Dunno' how, an' ain't got no stuff." + +"Wall, now, yez have been pretty good an' ain't slacked on the wurruk, +yez kin have the ould wagon kiver. Cousin Bert could tache ye how to +make it, if he wuz here. Maybe Caleb Clark knows," he added, with a +significant twinkle of his eye. "Better ask him." Then he turned to +give orders to the hired men, who, of course, ate at the family table. + +"Da, do you care if we go to Caleb?" + +"I don't care fwhat ye do wid him," was the reply. + +Raften was no idle talker and Sam knew that, so as soon as "the law +was off" he and Yan got out the old wagon cover. It seemed like an +acre of canvas when they spread it out. Having thus taken possession, +they put it away again in the cow-house, their own domain, and Sam +said: "I've a great notion to go right to Caleb; he sho'ly knows more +about a teepee than any one else here, which ain't sayin' much." + +"Who's Caleb?" + +"Oh, he's the old Billy Goat that shot at Da oncet, just after Da beat +him at a horse trade. Let on it was a mistake: 'twas, too, as he +found out, coz Da bought up some old notes of his, got 'em cheap, and +squeezed him hard to meet them. He's had hard luck ever since. + +"He's a mortal queer old duck, that Caleb. He knows heaps about the +woods, coz he was a hunter an' trapper oncet. My! wouldn't he be down +on me if he knowed who was my Da, but he don't have to know." + + + + +IV + +The Sanger Witch + + The Sanger Witch dwelt in the bend of the creek, + And neither could read nor write; + But she knew in a day what few knew in a week, + For hers was the second sight. + "Read?" said she, "I am double read; + You fools of the ink and pen + Count never the eggs, but the sticks of the nest, + See the clothes, not the souls of men." + + --Cracked Jimmy's Ballad of Sanger. + + +The boys set out for Caleb's. It was up the creek away from the camp +ground. As they neared the bend they saw a small log shanty, with some +poultry and a pig at the door. + +"That's where the witch lives," said Sam. + +"Who--old Granny de Neuville?" + +"Yep, and she just loves me. Oh, yes; about the same way an old hen +loves a Chicken-hawk. 'Pears to me she sets up nights to love me." + +"Why?" + +"Oh, I guess it started with the pigs. No, let's see: first about the +trees. Da chopped off a lot of Elm trees that looked terrible nice +from her windy. She's awful queer about a tree. She hates to see 'em +cut down, an' that soured her same as if she owned 'em. Then there +wuz the pigs. You see, one winter she was awful hard up, an' she had +two pigs worth, maybe, $5.00 each--anyway, she said they was, an' she +ought to know, for they lived right in the shanty with her--an' she +come to Da (I guess she had tried every one else first) an' Da he +squeezed her down an' got the two pigs for $7.00. He al'ays does that. +Then he comes home an' says to Ma, 'Seems to me the old lady is +pretty hard put. 'Bout next Saturday you take two sacks of flour and +some pork an' potatoes around an' see that she is fixed up right.' +Da's al'ays doin' them things, too, on the quiet. So Ma goes with +about $15.00 worth o' truck. The old witch was kinder 'stand off.' +She didn't say much. Ma was goin' slow, not knowin' just whether to +give the stuff out an' out, or say it could be worked for next year, +or some other year, when there was two moons, or some time when the +work was all done. Well, the old witch said mighty little until the +stuff was all put in the cellar, then she grabs up a big stick an' +breaks out at Ma: + +"'Now you git out o' my house, you dhirty, sthuck-up thing. I ain't +takin' no charity from the likes o' you. That thing you call your +husband robbed me o' my pigs, an' we ain't any more'n square now, so +git out an' don't you dar set fut in my house agin'. + +"Well, she was sore on us when Da bought her pigs, but she was five +times wuss after she clinched the groceries. 'Pears like they soured +on her stummick." + +"What a shame, the old wretch," said Yan, with ready sympathy for the +Raftens. + +"No," replied Sam; "she's only queer. There's lots o' folk takes her +side. But she's awful queer. She won't have a tree cut if she can help +it, an' when the flowers come in the spring she goes out in the woods +and sets down beside 'em for hours an' calls 'em 'Me beauty--me little +beauty,' an' she just loves the birds. When the boys want to rile her +they get a sling-shot an' shoot the birds in her garden an' she just +goes crazy. She pretty near starves herself every winter trying to +feed all the birds that come around. She has lots of 'em to feed right +out o' her hand. Da says they think its an old pine root, but she has +a way o' coaxin' 'em that's awful nice. There she'll stand in freezin' +weather calling them 'Me beauties'. + +"You see that little windy in the end?" he continued, as they came +close to the witch's hut. "Well, that's the loft, an' it's full o' all +sorts o' plants an' roots." + +"What for?" + +"Oh, for medicine. She's great on hairbs." + +"Oh, yes, I remember now Biddy did say that her Granny was a herb +doctor." + +"Doctor? She ain't much of a doctor, but I bet she knows every plant +that grows in the woods, an' they're sure strong after they've been up +there for a year, with the cat sleepin' on them." + +"I wish I could go and see her." + +"Guess we can," was the reply. + +"Doesn't she know you?" + +"Yes, but watch me fix her," drawled Sam. "There ain't nothin' she +likes better'n a sick pusson." + +Sam stopped now, rolled up his sleeves and examined both arms, +apparently without success, for he then loosed his suspenders, dropped +his pants, and proceeded to examine his legs. Of course, all boys +have more or less cuts and bruises in various stages of healing. Sam +selected his best, just below the knee, a scratch from a nail in the +fence. He had never given it a thought before, but now he "reckoned +it would do." With a lead pencil borrowed from Yan he spread a hue +of mortification all around it, a green butternut rind added the +unpleasant yellowish-brown of human decomposition, and the result +was a frightful looking plague spot. By chewing some grass he made a +yellowish-green dye and expectorated this on the handkerchief which he +bound on the sore. He then got a stick and proceeded to limp painfully +toward the witch's abode. As they drew near, the partly open door was +slammed with ominous force. Sam, quite unabashed, looked at Yan and +winked, then knocked. The bark of a small dog answered. He knocked +again. A sound now of some one moving within, but no answer. A third +time he knocked, then a shrill voice: "Get out o' that. Get aff my +place, you dirthy young riff-raff." + +Sam grinned at Yan. Then drawling a little more than usual, he said: + +"It's a poor boy, Granny. The doctors can't do nothin' for him," which +last, at least, was quite true. + +There was no reply, so Sam made bold to open the door. There sat the +old woman glowering with angry red eyes across the stove, a cat in her +lap, a pipe in her mouth, and a dog growling toward the strangers. + +"Ain't you Sam Raften?" she asked fiercely. + +"Yes, marm. I get hurt on a nail in the fence. They say you kin git +blood-p'isinin' that way," said Sam, groaning a little and trying to +look interesting. The order to "get out" died on the witch's lips. Her +good old Irish heart warmed to the sufferer. After all, it was rather +pleasant to have the enemy thus humbly seek her aid, so she muttered: + +"Le's see it." + +Sam was trying amid many groans to expose the disgusting mess he had +made around his knee, when a step was heard outside. The door opened +and in walked Biddy. + +She and Yan recognized each other at once. The one had grown much +longer, the other much broader since the last meeting, but the +greeting was that of two warm-hearted people glad to see each other +once more. + +"An' how's yer father an' yer mother an' how is all the fambily? Law, +do ye mind the Cherry Lung-balm we uster make? My, but we wuz greenies +then! Ye mind, I uster tell ye about Granny? Well, here she is. +Granny, this is Yan. Me an' him hed lots o' fun together when I +'resided' with his mamma, didn't we, Yan? Now, Granny's the one to +tell ye all about the plants." + +A long groan from Sam now called all attention his way. + +"Well, if it ain't Sam Raften," said Biddy coldly. + +"Yes, an' he's deathly sick," added Granny. "Their own docther guv him +up an said mortal man couldn't save him nohow, so he jest hed to come +to me." + +Another long groan was ample indorsement. + +"Le's see. Gimme my scissors, Biddy; I'll hev to cut the pant leg +aff." + +"No, no," Sam blurted out with sudden vigour, dreading the +consequences at home. "I kin roll it up." + +"Thayer, thot'll do. Now I say," said the witch. "Yes, sure enough, +thayer _is_ proud flesh. I moight cut it out," said she, fumbling +in her pocket (Sam supposed for a knife, and made ready to dash for +the door), "but le's see, no--that would be a fool docther trick. I +kin git on without." + +"Yes, sure," said Sam, clutching at the idea, "that's just what a fool +doctor would do, but you kin give me something to take that's far +better." + +"Well, sure an' I kin," and Yan and Sam breathed more freely. +"Shwaller this, now," and she offered him a tin cup of water into +which she spilled some powder of dry leaves. Sam did so. "An' you +take this yer bundle and bile it in two gallons of wather and drink a +glassful ivery hour, an' hev a loive chicken sphlit with an axe an' +laid hot on the place twicet ivery day, till the proud flesh goes, an' +it'll be all right wid ye--a fresh chicken ivery toime, moind ye." + +"Wouldn't--turkeys--do--better?" groaned Sam, feebly. "I'm me mother's +pet, Granny, an' expense ain't any objek"--a snort that may have meant +mortal agony escaped him. + +"Niver moind, now. Sure we won't talk of yer father an' mother; +they're punished pretty bad already. Hiven forbid they don't lose +the rest o' ye fur their sins. It ain't meself that 'ud bear ony +ill-will." + +A long groan cut short what looked like a young sermon. + +"What's the plant, Granny?" asked Yan, carefully avoiding Sam's gaze. + +"Shure, an' it grows in the woods." + +"Yes, but I want to know what it's like and what it's called." + +"Shure, 'tain't like nothin' else. It's just like itself, an' it's +called Witch-hazel. + + "'Witch-hazel blossoms in the faal, + To cure the chills and Fayvers aall,' + +"as cracked Jimmy says." + +"I'll show you some av it sometime," said Biddy. + +"Can it be made into Lung-balm?" asked Yan, mischievously. + +"I guess we'll have to go now," Sam feebly put in. "I'm feeling much +better. Where's my stick? Here, Yan, you kin carry my medicine, an' +be _very_ keerful of it." + +Yan took the bundle, not daring to look Sam in the face. + +Granny bade them both come back again, and followed to the door with a +hearty farewell. At the same moment she said: + +"Howld on!" Then she went to the one bed in the room, which also was +the house, turned down the clothes, and in the middle exposed a lot of +rosy apples. She picked out two of the best and gave one to each of +the boys. + +"Shure, Oi hev to hoide them thayer fram the pig, for they're the +foinest iver grew." + +"I know they are," whispered Sam, as he limped out of hearing, "for +her son Larry stole them out of our orchard last fall. They're the +only kind that keeps over. They're the best that grow, but a trifle +too warm just now." + +"Good-by, and thank you much," said Yan. + +"I-feel-better-already," drawled Sam. "That tired feeling has left me, +an' sense tryin' your remedy I have took no other," but added aside, +"I wish I could throw up the stuff before it pisens me," and then, +with a keen eye to the picturesque effect, he wanted to fling his +stick away and bound into the woods. + +It was all Yan could do to make him observe some of the decencies +and limp a little till out of sight. As it was, the change was quite +marked and the genial old witch called loudly on Biddy to see with +her own eyes how quickly she had helped young Raften "afther all the +dochters in the country hed giv him up." + +"Now for Caleb Clark, Esq., Q.C.," said Sam. + +"Q.C.?" inquired his friend. + +"Some consider it means Queen's Counsel, an' some claims as it stands +for Queer Cuss. One or other maybe is right." + +"You're stepping wonderfully for a crippled boy the doctors have given +up," remarked Yan. + +"Yes; that's the proud flesh in me right leg that's doin' the high +steppin'. The left one is jest plain laig." + +"Let's hide this somewhere till we get back," and Yan held up the +bundle of Witch-hazel. + +"I'll hide that," said Sam, and he hurled the bundle afar into the +creek. + +"Oh, Sam, that's mean. Maybe she wants it herself." + +"Pooh, that's all the old brush is good for. I done more'n me duty +when I drank that swill. I could fairly taste the cat in it." + +"What'll you tell her next time?" + +"Well, I'll tell her I put the sticks in the right place an' where +they done the most good. I soaked 'em in water an' took as much as I +wanted of the flooid. + +"She'll see for herself I really did pull through, and will be a +blamed sight happier than if I drank her old pisen brushwood an' had +to send for a really truly doctor." + +Yan was silenced, but not satisfied. It seemed discourteous to throw +the sticks away--so soon, anyway; besides, he had curiosity to know +just what they were and how they acted. + + + + +V + +Caleb + + +A mile farther was the shanty of Caleb Clark, a mere squatter now on a +farm once his own. As the boys drew near, a tall, round-shouldered man +with a long white beard was seen carrying in an armful of wood. + +"Ye see the Billy Goat?" said Sam. + +Yan sniffed as he gasped the "why" of the nickname. + +"I guess you better do the talking; Caleb ain't so easy handled as the +witch, and he's just as sour on Da." + +So Yan went forward rather cautiously and knocked at the open door of +the shanty. A deep-voiced Dog broke into a loud bay, the long beard +appeared, and its owner said, "Wall?" + +"Are you Mr. Clark?" + +"Yep." Then, "Lie down, Turk," to a black-and-tan Hound that came +growling out. + +"I came--I--we wanted to ask some questions--if you don't mind." + +"What might yer name be?" + +"Yan." + +"An' who is this?" + +"He's my chum, Sam." + +"I'm Sam Horn," said Sam, with some truth, for he was Samuel +Horn Raften, but with sufficient deception to make Yan feel very +uncomfortable. + +"And where are ye from?" + +"Bonnerton," said Yan. + +"To-day?" was the rejoinder, with a tone of doubt. + +"Well, no," Yan began; but Sam, who had tried to keep out of notice +for fear of recognition, saw that his ingenuous companion was being +quickly pumped and placed, and now interposed: "You see, Mr. Clark, we +are camped in the woods and we want to make a teepee to live in. We +have the stuff an' was told that you knew all about the making." + +"Who told ye?" + +"The old witch at the bend of the creek." + +"Where are ye livin' now?" + +"Well," said Sam, hastening again to forestall Yan, whose simple +directness he feared, "to tell the truth, we made a wigwam of bark in +the woods below here, but it wasn't a success." + +"Whose woods?" + +"Oh, about a mile below on the creek." + +"Hm! That must be Raften's or Burns's woods." + +"I guess it is," said Sam. + +"_An' you look uncommon like Sam Raften_. You consarned young +whelp, to come here lyin' an' tryin' to pull the wool over my eyes. +Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye." + +[Illustration: "Get out o' this now, or I'll boot ye."] + +Yan turned very red. He thought of the scripture text, "Be sure your +sin will find you out," and he stepped back. Sam stuck his tongue in +his cheek and followed. But he was his father's son. He turned and +said: + +"Now see here, Mr. Clark, fair and square; we come here to ask a +simple question about the woods. You are the only man that knows or we +wouldn't 'a' bothered you. I knowed you had it in for Da, so I tried +to fool you, and it didn't go. I wish now I had just come out square +and said, 'I'm Sam Raften; will you tell me somethin' I want to know, +or won't you?' I didn't know you hed anything agin me or me friend +that's camping with me." + +There is a strong bond of sympathy between all Woodcrafters. The mere +fact that a man wants to go his way is a claim on a Woodcrafter's +notice. Old Caleb, though soured by trouble and hot-tempered, had a +kind heart; he resisted for a moment the first impulse to slam the +door in their faces; then as he listened he fell into the tempter's +snare, for it was baited with the subtlest of flatteries. He said to +Yan: + +"Is your name Raften?" + +"No, sir." + +"Air ye owt o' kin?" + +"No, sir." + +"I don't want no truck with a Raften, but what do ye want to know?" + +"We built a wigwam of bark, but it's no good, but now we have a big +canvas cover an' want to know how to make a teepee." + +"A teepee. H-m--" said the old man reflectively. + +"They say you've lived in them," ventured Yan. + +"Hm--'bout forty year; but it's one thing to wear a suit of clothes +and another thing to make one. Seems to me it was about like this," +and he took up a burnt stick and a piece of grocer's paper. "No--now +hold on. Yes, I remember now; I seen a bunch of squaws make one oncet. + +"First they sewed the skins together. No, first thar was a lot o' +prayin'; ye kin suit yerselves 'bout that--then they sewed the skins +together an" pegged it down flat on the prairie (B D H I, Cut No. 1). +Then put in a peg at the middle of one side (A). Then with a burnt +stick an' a coord--yes, there must 'a' been a coord--they drawed a +half circle--so (B C D). Then they cut that off, an' out o' the pieces +they make two flaps like that (H L M J and K N O I), an' sews 'em on +to P E and G Q. Them's smoke-flaps to make the smoke draw. Thar's a +upside down pocket in the top side corner o' each smoke-flap--so--for +the top of each pole, and there is rows o' holes down--so (M B and N +D, Cut No. 2)--on each side fur the lacin' pins. Then at the top of +that pint (A, Cut 1) ye fasten a short lash-rope. + +[Illustration: CUT I.--PATTERN FOR A SIMPLE 10-FOOT TEEPEE] + +[Illustration: CUT II.--THE COMPLETE TEEPEE COVER--UNORNAMENTED] + +"Le's see, now. I reckon thar's about ten poles for a ten-foot lodge, +with two more for the smoke-flaps. Now, when ye set her up ye tie +three poles together--so--an' set 'em up first, then lean the other +poles around, except one, an' lash them by carrying the rope around a +few times. Now tie the top o' the cover to the top o' the last pole by +the short lash-rope, hist the pole into place--that hists the cover, +too, ye see--an' ye swing it round with the smoke-poles an' fasten the +two edges together with the wooden pins. The two long poles put in the +smoke-flap pockets works the vent to suit the wind." + +[Illustration: 1st set up tripod] + +In his conversation Caleb had ignored Sam and talked to Yan, but +the son of his father was not so easily abashed. He foresaw several +practical difficulties and did not hesitate to ask for light. + +"What keeps it from blowin' down?" he asked. + +"Wall," said Caleb, still addressing Yan, "the long rope that binds +the poles is carried down under, and fastened tight to a stake that +serves for anchor, 'sides the edge of the cover is pegged to the +ground all around." + +"How do you make the smoke draw?" was his next. + +[Illustration: 2nd set up and bind other six poles] + +"Ye swing the flaps by changing the poles till they is quartering down +the wind. That draws best." + +"How do you close the door?" + +"Wall, some jest lets the edges sag together, but the best teepees has +a door made of the same stuff as the cover put tight on a saplin' +frame an' swung from a lacin' pin." + +[Illustration: 3rd set up tenth pole with teepee cover fastened to it +by lash rope] + +[Illustration: SIOUX TEEPEE] + +This seemed to cover the ground, so carefully folding the dirty paper +with the plan, Yan put it in his pocket, said "Thank you" and went +off. To the "Good-day" of the boys Caleb made no reply, but turned as +they left and asked, "Whar ye camped?" + +"On the knoll by the creek in Raften's swamp." + +"H-m, maybe I'll come an' see ye." + +"All right," Sam called out; "follow the blazed trail from the brush +fence." + +"Why, Sam," said Yan, as soon as they were out of hearing, "there +isn't any blazed trail; why did you say that?" + +"Oh, I thought it sounded well," was the calm answer, "an' it's easy +to have the blazes there as soon as we want to, an' a blame sight +sooner than he's likely to use them." + + + + +VI + +The Making of the Teepee + + +Raften sniffed in amusement when he heard that the boys had really +gone to Caleb and got what they wanted. Nothing pleased him more than +to find his son a successful schemer. + +"Old Caleb wasn't so dead sure about the teepee, as near as I sized +him up," observed Sam. + +"I guess we've got enough to go ahead on," said Yan, "an' tain't a +hanging matter if we do make a mistake." + +The cover was spread out again flat and smooth on the barn floor, and +stones and a few nails put in the sides to hold it. + +The first thing that struck them was that it was a rough and tattered +old rag. + +And Sam remarked: "I see now why Da said we could have it. I reckon +we'll have to patch it before we cut out the teepee." + +"No," said Yan, assuming control, as he was apt to do in matters +pertaining to the woods; "we better draw our plans first so as not to +patch any part that's going to be cut off afterward." + +"Great head! But I'm afraid them patches won't be awful ornamental." + +"They're all right," was the reply. "Indians' teepees are often +patched where bullets and arrows have gone through." + +"Well, I'm glad I wa'n't living inside during them hostilities," and +Sam exposed a dozen or more holes. + +"Oh, get off there and give me that cord." + +"Look out," said Sam; "that's my festered knee. It's near as bad +to-day as it was when we called on the witch." + +Yan was measuring. "Let's see. We can cut off all those rags and still +make a twelve-foot teepee. Twelve foot high--that will be twenty-four +feet across the bottom of the stuff. Fine! That's just the thing. Now +I'll mark her off." + +"Hold on, there," protested his friend; "you can't do that with chalk. +Caleb said the Injuns used a burnt stick. You hain't got no right to +use chalk. 'You might as well hire a carpenter.'" + +"Oh, you go on. You hunt for a burnt stick, and if you don't find one +bring me the shears instead." + +Thus, with many consultations of Caleb's draft, the cutting-out +was done--really a very simple matter. Then the patching was to be +considered. + +Pack-thread, needles and _very l-o-n-g_ stitches were used, but +the work went slowly on. All the spare time of one day was given to +patching. Sam, of course, kept up a patter of characteristic remarks +to the piece he was sewing. Yan sewed in serious silence. At first +Sam's were put on better, but Yan learned fast and at length did by +far the better sewing. + +[Illustration: Decoration of Black Bull's Teepee: (Two Examples of +Doors)] + +[Illustration: THUNDER BULL'S TEEPEE] + + + Notes on Making Teepee: + + The slimmer the poles are at the top where they cross the smaller + the opening in the canvas and the less danger of rain coming in. + + In regions where there is much rain it is well to cut the projecting + poles very short and put over them a "storm cap," "bull boat" or + "shield" made of canvas on a rod bent in a three-foot circle. This + device was used by the Mandans over the smoke-hole of their lodges + during the heavy rains. + +That night the boys were showing their handiwork to the hired hands. +Si Lee, a middle-aged man with a vast waistband, after looking on +with ill-concealed but good-natured scorn, said: + +"Why didn't ye put the patches inside?" + +"Didn't think of it," was Yan's answer. + +"Coz we're goin' to live inside, an' need the room," said Sam. + +"Why did ye make ten stitches in going round that hole; ye could just +as easy have done it in four," and Si sniffed as he pointed to great, +ungainly stitches an inch long. "I call that waste labour." + +"Now see here," blurted Sam, "if you don't like our work let's see you +do it better. There's lots to do yet." + +"Where?" + +"Oh, ask Yan. He's bossin' the job. Old Caleb wouldn't let me in. It +just broke my heart. I sobbed all the way home, didn't I, Yan? + +"There's the smoke-flaps to stitch on and hem, and the pocket at +the top of the flaps--and--I--suppose," Yan added, as a feeler, +"it--would--be--better--if--hemmed--all--around." + +"Now, I tell ye what I'll do. If you boys'll go to the 'Corner' +to-night and get my boots that the cobbler's fixing, I'll sew on the +smoke-flaps." + +"I'll take that offer," said Yan; "and say, Si, it doesn't really +matter which is the outside. You can turn the cover so the patches +will be in." + +The boys got the money to pay for the boots, and after supper they set +out on foot for the "Corner," two miles away. + +"He's a queer duck," and Sam jerked his thumb back to show that he +meant Si Lee; "sounds like a Chinese laundry. I guess that's the only +thing he isn't. He can do any mortal thing but get on in life. He's +been a soldier an' a undertaker an' a cook He plays a fiddle he made +himself; it's a rotten bad one, but it's away ahead of his playing. He +stuffs birds--that Owl in the parlour is his doin'; he tempers razors, +kin doctor a horse or fix up a watch, an' he does it in about the same +way, too; bleeds a horse no matter what ails it, an' takes another +wheel out o' the watch every times he cleans it. He took Larry de +Neuville's old clock apart to clean once--said he knew all about +it--an' when he put it together again he had wheels enough left over +for a new clock. + +"He's too smart an' not smart enough. There ain't anything on earth +he can't do a little, an' there ain't a blessed thing that he can do +right up first-class, but thank goodness sewing canvas is his long +suit. You see he was a sailor for three years--longest time he ever +kept a job, fur which he really ain't to blame, since it was a whaler +on a three-years' cruise." + + + + +VII + +The Calm Evening + + +It was a calm June evening, the time of the second daily outburst of +bird song, the day's aftermath. The singers seemed to be in unusual +numbers as well. Nearly every good perch had some little bird that +seemed near bursting with joy and yet trying to avert that dire +catastrophe. + +As the boys went down the road by the outer fence of their own orchard +a Hawk came sailing over, silencing as he came the singing within a +given radius. Many of the singers hid, but a Meadow Lark that had been +whistling on a stake in the open was now vainly seeking shelter in the +broad field. The Hawk was speeding his way. The Lark dodged and put on +all power to reach the orchard, but the Hawk was after him now--was +gaining--in another moment would have clutched the terrified +musician, but out of the Apple trees there dashed a small +black-and-white bird--the Kingbird. With a loud harsh twitter--his +war-cry--repeated again and again, with his little gray head-feathers +raised to show the blood-and-flame-coloured undercrest--his war +colours--he darted straight at the great robber. + +"Clicker-a-clicker," he fairly screamed, and made for the huge Hawk, +ten times his size. + +"Clicker-a-clicker!" he shrieked, like a cateran shouting the +"slogan," and down like a black-and-white dart--to strike the Hawk +fairly between the shoulders just as the Meadow Lark dropped in +despair to the bare ground and hid its head from the approaching +stroke of death. + +"Clicker-a-clicker"--and the Hawk wheeled in sudden consternation. +"Clicker-a-clicker"--and the dauntless little warrior dropped between +his wings, stabbing and tearing. + +The Hawk bucked like a mustang, the Kingbird was thrown, but sprung on +agile pinions above again. + +"Clicker-a-clicker," and he struck as before. Large brown feathers +were floating away on the breeze now. The Meadow Lark was forgotten. +The Hawk thought only of escape. + +"Clicker-a-clicker," the slogan still was heard. The Hawk was putting +on all speed to get away, but the Kingbird was riding him most of the +time. Several brown feathers floated down, the Hawk dwindled in the +distance to a Sparrow and the Kingbird to a fly dancing on his back. +The Hawk made a final plunge into a thicket, and the king came home +again, uttering the shrill war-cry once or twice, probably to let the +queen know that he was coming back, for she flew to a high branch of +the Apple tree where she could greet the returning hero. He came with +an occasional "clicker-a-clicker"--then, when near her, he sprung +fifty feet in the air and dashed down, screaming his slogan without +interruption, darting zigzag with the most surprising evolutions and +turns--this way, that way, sideways and downward, dealing the +deadliest blows right and left at an imaginary foe, then soared, and +did it all over again two or three times, just to show how far he was +from being tired, and how much better he could have done it had it +been necessary. Then with a final swoop and a volley of "clickers" he +dashed into the bush to receive the congratulations of the one for +whom it all was meant and the only spectator for whose opinion he +cared in the least. + +[Illustration: "Clicker-a-clicker!' he shrieked ... and down like a +dart."] + +"Now, ain't that great," said Sam, with evident sincerity and +pleasure. His voice startled Yan and brought him back. He had been +wholly lost in silent admiring wonder of the dauntless little +Kingbird. + +A Vesper Sparrow ran along the road before them, flitting a few +feet ahead each time they overtook it and showing the white outer +tail-feathers as it flew. + +"A little Graybird," remarked Sam. + +"No, that isn't a Graybird; that's a Vesper Sparrow," exclaimed Yan, +in surprise, for he knew he was right. + +"Well, _I_ dunno," said Sam, yielding the point. + +"I thought you said you knew every bird that flies and all about it" +replied his companion, for the memory of this first day was strong +with him yet. + +Sam snorted: "I didn't know you then. I was just loadin' you up so +you'd think I was a wonderful feller, an' you did, too--for awhile." + +A Red-headed Woodpecker, carrying a yellow butterfly, flew on a fence +stake ahead of them and peeped around as they drew near. The setting +sun on his bright plumage, the lilac stake and the yellow butterfly, +completed a most gorgeous bit of colour and gave Yan a thrill of joy. +A Meadow Lark on a farther stake, a Bluebird on another, and a Vesper +Bird on a stone, each added his appeal to eye and ear, till Sam +exclaimed: + +"Oh, ain't that awful nice?" and Yan was dumb with a sort of saddened +joy. + +Birds hate the wind, and this was one of those birdy days that come +only with a dead calm. + +They passed a barn with two hundred pairs of Swallows flying and +twittering around, a cut bank of the road had a colony of 1,000 Sand +Martins, a stream had its rattling Kingfishers, and a marsh was the +playground of a multitude of Red-winged Blackbirds. + +Yan was lifted up with the joy of the naturalist at seeing so many +beautiful living things. Sam felt it, too; he grew very silent, and +the last half-mile to the "Corner" was passed without a word. The +boots were got. Sam swung them around his neck and the boys set out +for home. The sun was gone, but not the birds, and the spell of the +evening was on them still. A Song Sparrow by the brook and a Robin +high in the Elm were yet pouring out their liquid notes in the +gloaming. + +"I wish I could be always here," said Yan, but he started a little +when he remembered how unwilling he had been to come. + +There was a long silence as they lingered on the darkening road. Each +was thinking hard. + +A loud, startling but soft "Ohoo--O-hoo--O-hoooooo," like the coo of a +giant dove, now sounded about their heads in a tree. They stopped and +Sam whispered, "Owl; big Hoot Owl." Yan's heart leaped with pleasure. +He had read all his life of Owls, and even had seen them alive in +cages, but this was the first time he had ever heard the famous +hooting of the real live wild Owl, and it was a delicious experience. + +The night was quite dark now, but there were plenty of sounds that +told of life. A Whippoorwill was chanting in the woods, a hundred +Toads and Frogs creaked and trilled, a strange rolling, laughing cry +on a marshy pond puzzled them both, then a Song Sparrow in the black +night of a dense thicket poured forth its sweet little sunshine song +with all the vigour and joy of its best daytime doing. + +They listened attentively for a repetition of the serenade, when a +high-pitched but not loud "_Wa--wa--wa--wa--wa--wa--wa--wa_!" +reached their ears from a grove of heavy timbers. + +"Hear that?" exclaimed Sam. + +Again it came, a quavering squall, apparently much nearer. It was a +rather shrill sound, quite unbirdy, and Sam whispered: + +"Coon--that's the whicker of a Coon. We can come down here some time +when corn's 'in roastin'' an' have a Coon hunt." + +"Oh, Sam, wouldn't that be glorious!" said Yan. "How I wish it was +now. I never saw a Coon hunt or any kind of a hunt. Do we have to wait +till 'roasting-ear' time?" + +"Oh, yes; it's easier to find them then. You say to your Coons, 'Me +an' me dogs will meet you to-night at the nearest roastin'-ear patch,' +an' sure nuff _they'll_ keep the appointment." + +"But they're around now, for we just heard one, _and there's +another_." + +A long faint "_Lil--lil--lil--lil--lil--li-looo!_" now sounded +from the trees. It was like the other, but much softer and sweeter. + +"There's where you fool yerself," replied Sam, "an' there's where many +a hunter is fooled. That last one's the call of a Screech Owl. You see +it's softer and whistlier than the Coon whicker." + +They heard it again and again from the trees. It was a sweet musical +sound, and Yan remembered how squally the Coon call was in comparison, +and yet many hunters never learn the difference. + +As they came near the tree whence the Owl called at intervals, a gray +blot went over their heads, shutting out a handful of stars for a +moment as it passed over them, but making no noise. "There he goes," +whispered Sam. "That's the Screech Owl. Not much of a screech, was +it?" Not long afterward Yan came across a line of Lowell's which says, +"The song of the Screech Owl is the sweetest sound in nature," and +appreciated the absurdity of the name. + +"I want to go on a Coon hunt," continued Yan, and the sentence was +just tinged with the deep-laid doggedness that was usually lost in his +courteous manner. + +"That settles it," answered the other, for he was learning what that +tone meant. "We'll surely go when you talk that way, for, of coorse, +it _kin_ be done. You see, I know more about animals than birds," +he continued. "I'm just as likely to be a dentist as a hunter so far +as serious business is concerned, but I'd sure love to be a hunter for +awhile, an' I made Da promise to go with me some time. Maybe we kin +get a Deer by going back ten miles to the Long Swamp. I only wish Da +and Old Caleb hadn't fought, 'cause Caleb sure knows the woods, an' +that old Hound of his has treed more Coons than ye could shake a stick +at in a month o' Sundays." + +"Well, if that's the only Coon dog around, I'm going to get him. +You'll see," was the reply. + +"I believe you will," answered Sam, in a tone of mixed admiration and +amusement. + +It was ten o'clock when they got home, and every one was in bed but +Mr. Raften. The boys turned in at once, but next morning, on going +to the barn, they found that Si had not only sewed on and hemmed the +smoke-flaps, but had resewn the worst of the patches and hemmed the +whole bottom of the teepee cover with a small rope in the hem, so that +they were ready now for the pins and poles. + +The cover was taken at once to the camp ground. Yan carried the axe. +When they came to the brush fence over the creek at the edge of the +swamp, he said: + +"Sam, I want to blaze that trail for old Caleb. How do you do it?" + +"Spot the trees with the axe every few yards." + +"This way?" and Yan cut a tree in three places, so as to show three +white spots or blazes. + +"No; that's a trapper's blaze for a trap or a 'special blaze', but +a 'road blaze' is one on the front of the tree and one on the +back--so--then ye can run the trail both ways, an' you put them +thicker if it's to be followed at night." + + + + +VIII + +The Sacred Fire + + +"Ten strong poles and two long thin ones," said Yan, reading off. These +were soon cut and brought to the camp ground. + +"Tie them together the same height as the teepee cover----" + +"Tie them? With what?" + +"'Rawhide rope,' he said, but he also said 'Make the cover of skins.' +I'm afraid we shall have to use common rope for the present," and Yan +looked a little ashamed of the admission. + +"I reckoned so," drawled Sam, "and so I put a coil of quarter-inch in +the cover, but I didn't dare to tell you that up at the barn." + +The tripod was firmly lashed with the rope and set up. Nine poles were +duly leaned around in a twelve-foot circle, for a teepee twelve feet +high usually has a twelve-foot base. A final lashing of the ropes held +these, and the last pole was then put up opposite to the door, with +the teepee cover tied to it at the point between the flaps. The ends +of the two smoke-poles carried the cover round. Then the lacing-pins +were needed. Yan tried to make them of Hickory shoots, but the large, +soft pith came just where the point was needed. So Sam said, "You +can't beat White Oak for pins." He cut a block of White Oak, split it +down the middle, then split half of it in the middle again, and so on +till it was small enough to trim and finish with his knife. Meanwhile +Yan took the axe to split another, but found that it ran off to one +side instead of going straight down the grain. + +"No good," was Sam's comment. "You must keep _halving_ each time +or it will run out toward the thin pieces. You want to split shingles +all winter to larn that." + +Ten pins were made eight inches long and a quarter of an inch thick. +They were used just like dressmakers' stickpins, only the holes had to +be made first, and, of course, they looked better for being regular. +Thus the cover was laced on. The lack of ground-pegs was then seen. + +"You make ten Oak pins a foot long and an inch square, Sam. I've a +notion how to fix them." Then Yan cut ten pieces of the rope, each two +feet long, and made a hole about every three feet around the base of +the cover above the rope in the outer seam. He passed one end of each +short rope through this and knotted it to the other end. Thus he had +ten peg-loops, and the teepee was fastened down and looked like a +glorious success. + +Now came the grand ceremony of all, the lighting of the first fire. +The boys felt it to be a supreme and almost a religious moment. It is +curious to note that they felt very much as savages do under the same +circumstances--that the setting up of the new teepee and lighting its +first fire is an act of deep significance, and to be done only with +proper regard for its future good luck. + +"Better go slow and sure about that fire. It'd be awfully unlucky to +have it fizzle for the first time." + +"That's so," replied Yan, with the same sort of superstitious dread. +"Say, Sam, if we could really light it with rubbing-sticks, wouldn't +it be great?" + +"Hallo!" + +The boys turned, and there was Caleb close to them. He came over and +nodded. "Got yer teepee, I see? Not bad, but what did ye face her to +the west fur?" + +"Fronting the creek," explained Yan. + +"I forgot to tell ye," said Caleb, "an Injun teepee always fronts the +east; first, that gives the morning sun inside; next, the most wind is +from the west, so the smoke is bound to draw." + +"And what if the wind is right due east?" asked Sam, "which it surely +will be when it rains?" + +"And when the wind's east," continued Caleb, addressing no one in +particular, and not as though in answer to a question, "ye lap the +flaps across each other tight in front, so," and he crossed his hands +over his chest. "That leaves the east side high and shuts out the +rain; if it don't draw then, ye raise the bottom of the cover under +the door just a little--that always fetches her. An' when you change +her round don't put her in under them trees. Trees is dangerous; in a +storm they draw lightning, an' branches fall from them, an' after rain +they keep on dripping for an hour. Ye need all the sun ye kin get on a +teepee. + +"Did you ever see Indians bring fire out of two sticks by rubbing, Mr. +Clark?" + +"Oh, yes. Most of the Injuns now carry matches, but in the early days +I seen it done often enough." + +"Does it take long? Is it hard?" + +"Not so long, and it's easy enough, when ye know how." + +"My! I'd rather bring fire out of two sticks than have a ten dollar +bill," said Yan, with enthusiasm that meant much, for one dollar was +his high-water mark of affluence, and this he had reached but once in +his life. + +"Oh, I dunno'; that depends," was Sam's more guarded response. + +"Can _you_ do it?" asked Yan. + +"Wall, yes, if I kin get the right stuff. Ye see, it ain't every wood +that will do it. It's got to be jest right. The Plains Injuns use +Cottonwood root, an' the Mountain Injuns use Sage-brush root. I've +seen the Canadian Injuns use Basswood, Cedar and dry White Pine, +but the Chippewas mostly use Balsam Fir. The easiest way is with a +bow-drill. Have ye any buckskin?" + +"No." + +"Or a strip o' soft leather?" + +"I've got a leather shoe-lace," said Yan. + +"Rather slim; but we'll double it an' make it do. A cord will answer, +but it frays out so soon." Caleb took the lace and the axe, then said, +"Find me a stone 'bout the size of an egg, with a little hole into +it--like a socket hole--'bout a quarter inch deep." + +The boys went to the creek to seek a stone and Caleb went into the +woods. + +They heard him chopping, and presently he came back with a flat piece +of very dry Balsam Fir, a fifteen-inch pin of the same, a stick about +three feet long, slightly bent, some dry Pine punk and some dry Cedar. + +The pin was three-quarters of an inch thick and was roughly +eight-sided, "so the lace would grip." It was pointed at both ends. He +fastened the lace to the bent stick like a bow-string, but loosely, so +that when it had one turn around the pin it was quite tight. The flat +piece of Balsam he trimmed down to about half an inch thick. In the +edge of this he now cut a notch one-quarter inch wide and half an inch +deep, then on the top of this fire-board or block, just beyond the +notch, he made with the point of his knife a little pit. + +He next scraped and shredded a lot of dry Cedar wood like lint. Then +making a hole half an inch deep in the ground, he laid in that a flat +piece of Pine punk, and across this he set the fire-board. The point +of the pin or drill was put in the pit of the fire-board, which he +held down with one foot; the lace was given one turn on the pin, and +its top went into the hole of the stone the boys brought. The stone +was held firmly in Caleb's left hand. + +"Sometimes," he remarked, "when ye can't find a stone, a Pine knot +will do--ye kin make the socket-hole with a knife-point." + +Now holding the bow in his right hand, he began to draw it back and +forth with long, steady strokes, causing the pin to whirl round in the +socket. Within a few seconds a brown powder began to run out of the +notch of the fire-board onto the punk. The pit increased in size and +blackened, the powder darkened, and a slight smoke arose from the pit. +Caleb increased the pressure of his left hand a little, and sawed +faster with the right. The smoke steadily increased and the black +powder began to fill the notch. The smoke was rolling in little clouds +from under the pin, and it even seemed to come from the heap of +powder. As soon as he saw that, Caleb dropped the bow and gently +fanned the powder heap. It still smoked. He removed the fire-board, +and lifting the punk, showed the interior of the powder to be one +glowing coal. On this he laid the Cedar tinder and over that a second +piece of punk. Then raising it, he waved it in the air and blew gently +for awhile. It smouldered and then burst into a flame. The other +material was handy, and in a very short time they had a blazing fire +in the middle of the new teepee. + +[Illustration: THE RUBBING-STICKS FOR FIRE-MAKING] + +All three were pictures of childish delight. The old man's face fairly +beamed with triumph. Had he failed in his experiment he would have +gone off hating those boys, but having made a brilliant success he was +ready to love every one concerned, though they had been nothing more +than interested spectators of his exploit. + +[Illustration: RUBBING-STICKS--FOR FIRE-MAKING (See Description Below)] + +Two tools and two sticks are needed. The tools are bow and +drill-socket; the sticks are drill and fire-board. + +1. The simplest kind of bow--a bent stick with a stout leather thong +fastened at each end. The stick must not spring. It is about 27 inches +long and 5/8 inch thick. + +2. A more elaborate bow with a hole at each end for the thong. At the +handle end it goes through a disc of wood. This is to tighten the +thong by pressure of the hand against the disc while using. + +3. Simplest kind of drill-socket--a pine or hemlock knot with a +shallow hole or pit in it. _3a_ is under view of same. It is +about 4-1/2 inches long. + +4. A more elaborate drill-socket--a pebble cemented with gum in a +wooden holder. _4a_ is under view of same. + +5. A very elaborate drill-socket; it is made of tulip wood, carved to +represent the Thunderbird. It has eyes of green felspar cemented in +with resin. On the under side (_5a_) is seen, in the middle, a +soapstone socket let into the wood and fastened with pine gum, and +on the head a hole kept filled with grease, to grease the top of the +drill before use. + +6. The drill, 12 to 18 inches long and about 3/4 of an inch thick; it +is roughly 8-sided so the thong will not slip, pointed at each end. +The best wood for the drill is old, dry, brash, but not punky balsam +fir or cotton-wood roots; but basswood, white cedar, red cedar, +tamarack, and sometimes even white pine, will do. + +7. Fire-board or block, about 3/4 of an inch thick and any length +handy; _a_ is notch with pit just below shows the pit after once +using and in good trim for a second time; _c_ shows the pit bored +through and useless; the notch is 1/2 inch wide and 3/4 inch deep. + +8. Shows the way of using the sticks. The block (_a_) is held +down with one foot, the end of the drill in the pit, the drill-socket +(_c_) is held on top in left hand, one end of the bow (_d_) +is held in the right hand the bow is drawn back and forth. + +9. Is a little wooden fire-pan, not essential but convenient; its thin +edge is put under the notch to catch the powder that falls. + + + + +IX + +The Bows and Arrows + + +"I don't think much of your artillery," said Yan one day as they were +shooting in the orchard with Sam's "Western outfit." "It's about like +the first one I made when I was young." + +"Well, grandpa, let's see your up-to-date make?" + +"It'd be about five times as strong, for one thing." + +"You couldn't pull it." + +"Not the way you hold the arrow! But last winter I got a book about +archery from the library and learned something worth while. You pinch +the arrow that way and you can draw six or eight pounds, maybe, but +you hook your fingers in the string--so--and you can draw five times +as much, and that's the right way to shoot." + +"Feels mighty clumsy," said Sam, trying it. + +"Of course it does at first, and you have to have a deep notch in the +arrow or you can't do it at all." + +"You don't seem to manage any better than I do." + +"First time I ever had a chance to try since I read about it. But I +want to make a first-class bow and a lot of arrows. It's not much good +going with _one_." + +[Illustration: The Archer's Grip] + + +"Well, go ahead an' make an outfit if you know how. What's the best +wood? Did the book tell you that?" + +"The best wood is Spanish Yew." + +"Don't know it." + +"An' the next is Oregon Yew." + +"Nope." + +"Then Lancewood and Osage Orange." + +'Try again." + +"Well, Red Cedar, Apple tree, Hickory and Elm seem to be the only ones +that grow around here." + +"Hain't seen any _Red_ Cedar, but the rest is easy." + +"It has to be thoroughly seasoned winter-cut wood, and cut so as to +have heart on one side and sap wood on the other." + +"How's that?" and Sam pointed to a lot of half-round Hickory sticks +on the rafters of the log house. "Those have been there a couple of +years." + +A good one of five feet long was selected and split and hewn with the +axe till the boys had the two bow staves, five and one-half feet long +and two inches square, with the line of the heart and sap wood down +the middle of each. + +Guided by his memory of that precious book and some English long bows +that he had seen in a shop in town, Yan superintended the manufacture. +Sam was apt with tools, and in time they finished two bows, five feet +long and drawing possibly twenty-five pounds each. In the middle they +were one and one-half inches wide and an inch thick (see page 183). +This size they kept for nine inches each way, making an eighteen-inch +middle part that did not bend, but their two limbs were shaved down +and scraped with glass till they bent evenly and were well within the +boys' strength. + +The string was the next difficulty. All the ordinary string they could +get around the house proved too weak, never lasting more than two +or three shots, till Si Lee, seeing their trouble, sent them to the +cobbler's for a hank of unbleached linen thread and some shoemaker's +wax. Of this thread he reeled enough for a strong cord tight around +two pegs seven feet apart, then cutting it loose at one end he divided +it equally in three parts, and, after slight waxing, he loosely +plaited them together. At Yan's suggestion he then spliced a loop at +one end, and with a fine waxed thread lashed six inches of the middle +where the arrow fitted, as well as the splice of the loop. This last +enabled them to unstring the bow when not in use (see page 183). +"There," said he, "you won't break that." The finishing touch was +thinly coating the bows with some varnish found among the paint +supplies. + +"Makes my old bow look purty sick," remarked Sam, as he held up the +really fine new weapon in contrast with the wretched little hoop that +had embodied his early ideas. "Now what do you know about arrers, +mister?" as he tried his old arrow in the new bow. + +"I know that that's no good," was the reply; "an' I can tell you that +it's a deal harder to make an arrow than a bow--that is, a good one." + +"That's encouraging, considering the trouble we've had already." + +"'Tisn't meant to be, but we ought to have a dozen arrows each." + +"How do the Injuns make them?" + +"Mostly they get straight sticks of the Arrow-wood; but I haven't seen +any Arrow-wood here, and they're not so awfully straight. You see, an +arrow must be straight or it'll fly crooked. 'Straight as an arrow' +means the thing itself. We can do better than the Indians 'cause we +have better tools. We can split them out of the solid wood." + +"What wood? Some bloomin' foreign kind that no White-man never saw nor +heard of before?" + +"No sir-ree. There ain't anything better 'n White Pine for target and +Ash or Hickory for hunting arrows. Which are we making?" + +"I'm a hunter. Give me huntin' arrows every time. What's needed next?" + +"Seasoned Ash twenty-five inches long, split to three-eighths of an +inch thick, hot glue, and turkey-wing feathers." + +"I'll get the feathers and let you do the rest," said Sam, producing +a bundle of turkey-wings, laid away as stove-dusters, and then belied +his own statement by getting a block of Ash and splitting it up, +halving it each time till he had a pile of two dozen straight sticks +about three-quarters of an inch thick. + +Yan took one and began with his knife to whittle it down to proper +size and shape, but Sam said, "I can do better than that," then took +the lot to the workbench and set to work with a smoothing plane. Yan +looked worried and finally said: + +"Injuns didn't have planes." + +"Nor jack-knives neither," was the retort. + +That was true, and yet somehow Yan's ideal that he hankered after +was the pre-Columbian Indian, the one who had no White-man's help or +tools. + +"It seems to me it'd be more Injun to make these with just what we get +in the woods. The Injuns didn't have jack-knives, but they had sharp +flints in the old days." + +"Yan, you go ahead with a sharp stone. You'll find lots on the road if +you take off your shoes and walk barefoot--awful sharp; an' I'll go +ahead with the smoothing plane an' see who wins." + +Yan was not satisfied, but he contented himself with promising that he +would some day make some arrows of Arrow-wood shoots and now he +would finish at least one with his knife. He did so, but Sam, in the +meantime, made six much better ones with the smoothing plane. + +"What about heads?" said he. + +"I've been thinking," was the reply. "Of course the Indians used stone +heads fastened on with sinew, but we haven't got the stuff to do that. +Bought heads of iron with a ferrule for the end of the arrow are best, +but we can't get them. Bone heads and horn heads will do. I made some +fine ones once filing bones into the shape, but they were awfully +brittle; and I made some more of big nails cut off and set in with a +lashing of fine wire around the end to stop the wood splitting. Some +Indian arrows have no point but the stick sharpened after it's +scorched to harden it." + +[Illustration: SIX SAMPLE ARROWS, SHOWING DIFFERENT FEATHERS] + +"That sounds easy enough for me," said Sam; "let's make some of them +that way." + +So the arrows were made, six each with nail points filed sharp and +lashed with broom wire. These were called "War arrows," and six each +with fire-hardened wood points for hunting arrows. + +"Now for the feathering," and Yan showed Sam how to split the midrib +of a turkey feather and separate the vane. + +"Le's see, you want twice twenty-four--that's forty-eight feathers." + +"No," said Yan, "that's a poor feathering, two on each. We want three +on each arrow--seventy-two strips in all, and mind you, we want all +three that are on one arrow from the same side of the bird." + +"I know. I'll bet it's bad luck to mix sides; arrows doesn't know +which way to turn." + +At this moment Si Lee came in. "How are ye gettin' on with the bows?" + +"Waitin' for arrows now." + +"How do ye put on the feathers?" + + DESCRIPTION OF SIX SAMPLE ARROWS SHOWING DIFFERENT FEATHERS + + _A_ is a far-flying steel-pointed bobtail, very good in wind. + _B_ is another very good arrow, with a horn point. This went + even better than _A_ if there were no wind. _C_ is an + Omaha war and deer arrow. Both heads and feathers are lashed on + with sinew. The long tufts of down left on the feathers are to + help in finding it again, as they are snow-white and wave in the + breeze. The grooves on the shaft are to make the victim bleed more + freely and be more easily tracked. _D_ is another Omaha + arrow with a peculiar owner's mark of lines carved in the middle, + _E_ is a bone-headed bird shaft made by the Indians of the + Mackenzie River. _F_ is a war arrow made by Geronimo, the + famous Apache chief. Its shaft is three joints of a straight cane. + The tip is of hard wood, and on that is a fine quartz point; all + being lashed together with sinew. + +"White-men glue them on, and Injuns lash them on," replied Yan, +quoting from memory from "that book." + +"Which is best?" + +"Glued on flies better, but lashed on stands the weather better." + +"Why not both?" + +"Have no sinew." + +"Let me show ye a trick. Where's yer glue an' linen thread?" + +These were brought, whereupon Si added: "'Pears to me ye oughter put +the feathers on last. Better cut the notch first." + +"That's so; we nearly forgot." + +"_You_ nearly forgot, you mean. Don't drag _me_ in the mud," +said Sam, with owlish dignity. A small saw cut, cleaned up and widened +with a penknife, proved the best; a notch one-fourth inch deep was +quickly made in each arrow, and Si set about _both_ glueing +_and_ lashing on the feathers, but using wax-end instead of +sinew. + +Yan had marked the place for each feather so that none would strike +the bow in passing (see Cut page 183). He first glued them on, +then made a lashing for half an inch on the projecting ends of the +feather-rib, and another behind, carrying this second lashing back to +the beginning of the notch to guard against the wood splitting. When +he had trimmed all loose ends and rolled the waxed thread well on the +bench with a flat stick, the threads seemed to disappear and leave +simply a smooth black ring. + + + THE ARCHERY OUTFIT (Not all on scale) + + I. The five-foot bow as finished, with sections at the points shown. + + II. The bow "braced" or strung. + + III. The bow unstrung, showing the loop slipped down. + + IV. The loop that is used on the upper end of the bow. + + V. The timber hitch always used on the lower end or notch of the bow. + + VI. A turkey feather with split midrib, all ready to lash on. + + VII. End view of arrow, showing notch and arrangement of three + feathers. + + VIII. Part of arrow, showing feathering and lashing. + + IX. Sanger hunting arrow with wooden point; 25 inches long. + + X. Sanger war arrow with nail point and extra long feathers; it also + is 25 inches long. + + XI. Quiver with Indian design; 20 inches long. + + XII. The "bracer" or arm guard of heavy leather for left arm, with two + laces to tie it on. It is six inches long. + + * * * * * + +Thus the arrows were made and set away for the glue to dry. + +Next day Yan painted Sam's red and blue, his own red and white, to +distinguish them as well as guard them from the damp. There was now +one more thing, and that was a quiver. + +"Do the Injuns have them?" asked Sam, with a keen eye to orthodoxy +when it promised to cut short the hard work. + +"Well, I should say so; couldn't live without them." + +"All right; hurry up. I'm spoiling for a hunt. What are they made of?" + +"Oh, 'most anything." + +"Haven't got it." + +"You're too fast. But some use Birch bark, some use the skin of an +animal, and some use canvas now when other stuff is scarce." + +"That's us. You mind the stuff left off the teepee?" + +"Do till we get better." So each made a sort of canvas bag shorter +than the arrows. Yan painted an Indian device on each, and they were +ready. + +"Now bring on your Bears," said the older boy, and feeling a sense of +complete armament, they went out. + +"See who can hit that tree." Both fired together and missed, but Sam's +arrow struck another tree and split open. + +"Guess we'd better get a soft target," he remarked. Then after +discussion they got a large old corn sack full of hay, painted on it +some rings around a bull's eye (a Buffalo's eye, Sam called it) and +set it up at twenty yards. + +They were woefully disappointed at first in their shooting. It did +seem a very easy mark, and it was disappointing to have the arrows fly +some feet away to the left. + +"Le's get in the barn and shoot at that," suggested Sam. + +"We might hit it if we shut the door tight," was the optimistic reply. +As well as needing practice, the boys had to learn several little +rules about Archery. But Yan had some pencil notes from "that book" +and some more in his brain that with much practice gradually taught +him: To stand with his heel centres in line with the target; his right +elbow in line with the arrow; his left hand fixed till the arrow +struck; his right thumb always on the same place on his cheek when he +fired, and the bow plumb. + +They soon found that they needed guards for the left arm where the bow +strings struck, and these they made out of the leg of an old boot (see +Cut page 183), and an old glove to protect the fingers of the right +hand when they practised very much. After they learned to obey the +rules without thinking about them, the boys improved quickly and soon +they were able to put all the arrows into the hay sack at twenty +yards, increasing the distance later till they could make fair +shooting at forty yards. + +They were not a little surprised to find how much individuality the +arrows had, although meant to be exactly alike. + +Sam had one that continued to warp until it was much bent, and the +result was some of the most surprising curves in its flight. This he +called the "Boomerang." Another, with a very small feather, travelled +farther than any of the rest. This was the "Far-killer." His best +arrow, one that he called "Sure-death," was a long-feathered Turkey +shaft with a light head. It was very reliable on a calm day, but +apt to swerve in the wind. Yet another, with a small feather, was +correspondingly reliable on a windy day. This was "Wind-splitter." + +The one Yan whittled with the knife was called the "Whittler," and +sometimes the "Joker." It was a perpetual mystery, they never knew +just what it would do next. His particular pet was one with a hollow +around the point, which made a whistling sound when it flew, and was +sometimes called the "Whistler" and sometimes the "Jabberwock," +"which whiffled through the tulgy wood and burbled as it came." + +[Illustration: CORRECT FORM IN SHOOTING The diagram at bottom is to +show the centres of heels in line with target.] + + + + +X + +The Dam + + +One hot day early in July they were enjoying themselves in the shallow +bathing-hole of the creek, when Sam observed: "It's getting low. It +goes dry every summer." + +This was not pleasing to foresee, and Yan said, "Why can't we make a +dam?" + +"A little too much like work." + +"Oh, pshaw! That'd be fun and we'd have a swimming-place for all +summer, then. Come on; let's start now." + +"Never heard of Injuns doing so much work." + +"Well, we'll play Beaver while we do it. Come on, now; here's for +a starter," and Yan carried a big stone to what seemed to him the +narrowest place. Then he brought more, and worked with enthusiasm till +he had a line of stones right across the creek bed. + +Sam still sat naked on the bank, his knees to his chin and his arms +around them. The war-paint was running down his chest in blue and red +streaks. + +"Come on, here, you lazy freak, and work," cried Yan, and flung a +handful of mud to emphasize the invite. + +"My festered knee's broke out again," was the reply. + +At length Yan said, "I'm not going to do it all alone," and +straightened up his back. + +"Look a-here," was the answer. "I've been thinking. The cattle water +here. The creek runs dry in summer, then the cattle has to go to the +barnyard and drink at the trough--has to be pumped for, and hang round +for hours after hoping some one will give them some oats, instead of +hustling back to the woods to get fat. Now, two big logs across there +would be more'n half the work. I guess we'll ask Da to lend us the +team to put them logs across to make a drinking-pond for the cattle. +Them cattle is awful on my mind. Didn't sleep all night thinking o' +them. I just hate like pizen to see them walking all the way to the +barn in hot weather for a drink--'tain't right." So Sam waited for a +proper chance to "tackle" his father. It did not come that day, but at +breakfast next morning Raften looked straight at Yan across the table, +and evidently thinking hard about something, said: + +"Yahn, this yer room is twenty foot by fifteen, how much ilecloth +three foot wide will it call fur?" + +"Thirty-three and one-third yards," Yan said at once. + +Raften was staggered. Yan's manner was convincing, but to do all that +in his head was the miracle. Various rude tests were applied and the +general opinion prevailed that Yan was right. + +The farmer's face beamed with admiration for the first time. "Luk at +that," he said to the table, "luk at that fur eddication. When'll you +be able to do the like?" he said to Sam. + +"Never," returned his son, with slow promptness. "Dentists don't have +to figger on ilecloth." + +"Say, Yan," said Sam aside, "guess _you_ better tackle Da about +the dam. Kind o' sot up about ye this mornin'; your eddication has +softened him some, an' it'll last till about noon, I jedge. Strike +while the iron is hot." + +So after breakfast Yan commenced: + +"Mr. Raften, the creek's running dry. We want to make a pond for the +cattle to drink, but we can't make a dam without two big logs across. +Will you let us have the team a few minutes to place the logs?" + +"It ain't fur a swimmin'-pond, is it, ye mean?" said Raften, with a +twinkle in his eye. + +"It would do for that as well," and Yan blushed. + +"Sounds to me like Sam talking through Yan's face," added Raften, +shrewdly taking in the situation. "I'll see fur meself." + +Arrived at the camp, he asked: "Now, whayer's yer dam to be? Thar? +That's no good. It's narrer but it'd be runnin' round both ends afore +ye had any water to speak of. Thayer's a better place, a bit wider, +but givin' a good pond. Whayer's yer logs? Thayer? What--my seasoning +timber? Ye can't hev that. That's the sill fur the new barrn; nor +that--it's seasonin' fur gate posts. Thayer's two ye kin hev. I'll +send the team, but don't let me ketch ye stealin' any o' my seasonin' +timber or the fur'll fly." + +With true Raften promptness the heavy team came, the two great logs +were duly dragged across and left as Yan requested (four feet apart +for the top of the dam). + +The boys now drove in a row of stakes against each log on the inner +side, to form a crib, and were beginning to fill in the space with mud +and stones. They were digging and filling it up level as they went. +Clay was scarce and the work went slowly; the water, of course, rising +as the wall arose, added to the difficulty. But presently Yan said: + +"Hold on. New scheme. Let's open her and dig a deep trench on one +side so all the water will go by, then leave a clay wall to it" [the +trench] "and dig a deep hole on the other side of it. That will give +us plenty of stuff for the dam and help to deepen the pond." + +Thus they worked. In a week the crib was full of packed clay and +stone. Then came the grand finish--the closing of this sluiceway +through the dam. It was not easy with the full head of water running, +but they worked like beavers and finally got it stopped. + +That night there was a heavy shower. Next day when they came near they +heard a dull roar in the woods. They stopped and listened in doubt, +then Yan exclaimed gleefully: "The dam! That's the water running over +the dam." + +They both set off with a yell and ran their fastest. As soon as they +came near they saw a great sheet of smooth water where the stony creek +bottom had been and a steady current over the low place left as an +overflow in the middle of the dam. + +What a thrill of pleasure that was! + +"Last in's a dirty sucker." + +"Look out for my bad knee," was the response. + +The rest of the race was a mixture of stripping and sprinting and the +boys splashed in together. + +Five feet deep in the deep hole, a hundred yards long, and all their +own doing. + +"Now, wasn't it worth it?" asked Yan, who had had much difficulty in +keeping Sam steadily at play that looked so very much like work. + +"Wonder how that got here? I thought I left that in the teepee?" and +Sam pointed to a log that he used for a seat in the teepee, but now it +was lodged in the overflow. + +Yan was a good swimmer, and as they played and splashed, Sam said: +"Now I know who you are. You can't hide it from me no longer. I +suspicioned it when you were working on the dam. You're that tarnal +Redskin they call 'Little Beaver.'" + +"I've been watching you," retorted Yan, "and it seems to me I've run up +against that copper-coloured scallawag--'Young-Man-Afraid-of-a-Shovel.'" + +[Illustration: The dam was a great success] + +"No, you don't," said Sam. "Nor I ain't +'_Bald-Eagle-Settin'-on-a-Rock-with-his-Tail-Hangin'-over-the-Edge,'_ +nuther. In fact, I don't keer to be recognized just now. Ain't it a +relief to think the cattle don't have to take that walk any more?" + +Sam was evidently trying to turn the subject, but Yan would not be +balked. "I heard Si call you 'Woodpecker' the other day." + +"Yep. I got that at school. When I was a kid to hum I heerd Ma talk +about me be-a-u-tiful _golden_ hair, but when I got big enough +to go to school I learned that it was only _red_, an' they called +me the 'Red-headed Woodpecker.' I tried to lick them, but lots of them +could lick me an' rubbed it in wuss. When I seen fightin' didn't +work, I let on to like it, but it was too late then. Mostly it's just +'Woodpecker' for short. I don't know as it ever lost me any sleep." + +Half an hour later, as they sat by the fire that Yan made with +rubbing-sticks, he said, "Say, Woodpecker, I want to tell you a +story." Sam grimaced, pulled his ears forward, and made ostentatious +preparations to listen. + +"There was once an Indian squaw taken prisoner by some other tribe way +up north. They marched her 500 miles away, but one night she escaped +and set out, not on the home trail, for she knew they would follow +that way and kill her, but to one side. She didn't know the country +and got lost. She had no weapons but a knife, and no food but berries. +Well, she travelled fast for several days till a rainstorm came, then +she felt safe, for she knew her enemies could not trail her now. But +winter was near and she could not get home before it came. So she set +to work right where she was. + +"She made a wigwam of Birch bark and a fire with rubbing-sticks, using +the lace of her moccasin for a bow-string. She made snares of the +inner bark of the Willow and of Spruce roots, and deadfalls, too, for +Rabbits. She was starving sometimes, at first, but she ate the buds +and inner bark of Birch trees till she found a place where there were +lots of Rabbits. And when she caught some she used every scrap of +them. She made a fishing-line of the sinews, and a hook of the bones +and teeth lashed together with sinew and Spruce gum. + +"She made a cloak of Rabbit skins, sewed with needles of Rabbit bone +and thread of Rabbit sinew, and a lot of dishes of Birch bark sewed +with Spruce roots. + +"She put in the whole winter there alone, and when the spring came she +was found by Samuel Hearne, the great traveller. Her precious knife +was worn down, but she was fat and happy and ready to set out for her +own people." + +"Well, I say that's mighty inter-est-in'," said Sam--he had listened +attentively--"an' I'd like nothin' better than to try it myself if I +had a gun an' there was lots of game." + +"Pooh, who wouldn't?" + +"Mighty few--an' there's mighty few who _could_." +"I could." + +"What, make everything with just a knife? I'd like to see you make +a teepee," then adding earnestly, "Sam, we've been kind o' playing +Injuns; now let's do it properly. Let's make everything out of what we +find in the woods." + +"Guess we'll have to visit the Sanger Witch again. She knows all about +plants." + +"We'll be the Sanger Indians. We can both be Chiefs," said Yan, not +wishing to propose himself as Chief or caring to accept Sam as his +superior. "I'm Little Beaver. Now what are you?" + +"Bloody-Thundercloud-in-the-Afternoon." + +"No, try again. Make it something you can draw, so you can make your +totem, and make it short." + +"What's the smartest animal there is?" + +"I--I--suppose the Wolverine." + +"What! Smarter'n a Fox?" + +"The books say so." + +"Kin he lick a Beaver?" + +"Well, I should say so." + +"Well, that's me." + +"No, you don't. I'm not going around with a fellow that licks me. It +don't fit you as well as 'Woodpecker,' anyhow. I always get _you_ +when I want a nice tree spoiled or pecked into holes," retorted Yan, +magnanimously ignoring the personal reason for the name. + +"Tain t as bad as _beavering_," answered Sam + +"Beavering" was a word with a history. Axes and timber were the +biggest things in the lives of the Sangerites. Skill with the axe was +the highest accomplishment. The old settlers used to make everything +in the house out of wood, and with the axe for the only tool. It was +even said that some of them used to "edge her up a bit" and shave with +her on Sundays. When a father was setting his son up in life he gave +him simply a good axe. The axe was the grand essential of life and +work, and was supposed to be a whole outfit. Skill with the axe was +general. Every man and boy was more or less expert, and did not know +how expert he was till a real "greeny" came among them. There is a +right way to cut for each kind of grain, and a certain proper way of +felling a tree to throw it in any given direction with the minimum of +labour. All these things are second nature to the Sangerite. A Beaver +is credited with a haphazard way of gnawing round and round a tree +till somehow it tumbles, and when a chopper deviates in the least from +the correct form, the exact right cut in the exact right place, he is +said to be "beavering"; therefore, while "working like a Beaver" is +high praise, "beavering" a tree is a term of unmeasured reproach, and +Sam's final gibe had point and force that none but a Sangerite could +possibly have appreciated. + + + + +XI + +Yan and the Witch + + + The Sanger Witch hated the Shanty-man's axe + And wildfire, too, they tell, + But the hate that she had for the Sporting man + Was wuss nor her hate of Hell! + + --Cracked Jimmie's Ballad of Sanger. + + +Yan took his earliest opportunity to revisit the Sanger Witch. + +"Better leave me out," advised Sam, when he heard of it. "She'd never +look at you if I went. You look too blame healthy." + +So Yan went alone, and he was glad of it. Fond as he was of Sam, his +voluble tongue and ready wit left Yan more or less in the shade, made +him look sober and dull, and what was worse, continually turned the +conversation just as it was approaching some subject that was of +deepest interest to him. + +As he was leaving, Sam called out, "Say, Yan, if you want to stay +there to dinner it'll be all right--we'll know why you hain't turned +up." Then he stuck his tongue in his cheek, closed one eye and went to +the barn with his usual expression of inscrutable melancholy. + +Yan carried his note-book--he used it more and more, also his +sketching materials. On the road he gathered a handful of flowers and +herbs. His reception by the old woman was very different this time. + +"Come in, come in, God bless ye, an' hoo air ye, an' how is yer father +an' mother--come in an' set down, an' how is that spalpeen, Sam +Raften?" + +"Sam's all right now," said Yan with a blush. + +"All right! Av coorse he's all right. I knowed I'd fix him all right, +an' he knowed it, an' his Ma knowed it when she let him come. Did she +say onything about it?" + +"No, Granny, not a word." + +"The dhirty hussy! Saved the boy's life in sphite of their robbin' me +an' she ain't human enough to say 'thank ye'--the dhirty hussy! +May God forgive her as I do," said the old woman with evident and +implacable enmity. + +"Fwhat hev ye got thayer? Hivin be praised, they can't kill them all +off. They kin cut down the trees, but the flowers comes ivery year, me +little beauties--me little beauties!" Yan spread them out. She picked +up an Arum and went on. "Now, that's Sorry-plant, only some calls it +Injun Turnip, an' I hear the childer call it Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Don't +ye never put the root o' that near yer tongue. It'll sure burn ye like +fire. First thing whin they gits howld av a greeny the bhise throis to +make him boite that same. Shure he niver does it twicet. The Injuns +b'ile the pizen out o' the root an' ates it; shure it's better'n +starvin'." + +Golden Seal (_Hydrastis canadensis_), the plant she had used for +Sam's knee, was duly recognized and praised, its wonderful golden +root, "the best goold iver came out av the ground," was described with +its impression of the seal of the Wise King. + +"Thim's Mandrakes, an' they're moighty late, an' ye shure got +_thim_ in the woods. Some calls it May Apples, an' more calls it +Kingroot. The Injuns use it fur their bowels, an' it has cured many a +horse of pole evil that I seen meself. + +"An' Blue Cohosh, only I call that Spazzum-root. Thayer ain't nothin' +like it fur spazzums--took like tay; only fur that the Injun women +wouldn't live in all their thrubles, but that's something that don't +consarn ye. Luk now, how the laves is all spread out like wan wid +spazzums. Glory be to the Saints and the Blessed Virgin, everything is +done fur us on airth an' plain marked, if we'd only take the thruble +to luk. + +"Now luk at thot," said she, clawing over the bundle and picking out a +yellow Cypripedium, "that's Moccasin-plant wid the Injuns, but mercy +on 'em fur bloind, miserable haythens. They don't know nothin' an' +don't want to larn it. That's Umbil, or Sterrick-root. It's powerful +good fur sterricks. Luk at it! See the face av a woman in sterricks +wid her hayer flyin' an' her jaw a-droppin'. I moind the toime Larry's +little gurrl didn't want to go to her 'place' an' hed sterricks. They +jest sent fur me an' I brung along a Sterrick-root. First, I sez, sez +I, 'Get me some b'ilin' wather,' an' I made tay an' give it to her +b'ilin' hot. As share as Oi'm a livin' corpse, the very first spoonful +fetched her all right. Oh, but it's God's own gift, an' it's be His +blessin' we know how to use it. An' it don't do to just go an' dig it +when ye want it. It has to be grubbed when the flower ain't thayer. Ye +see, the strength ain't in both places to oncet. It's ayther in the +flower or in the root, so when the flower is thayer the root's no more +good than an ould straw. Ye hes to Hunt fur it in spring or in fall, +just when the divil himself wouldn't know whayer to find it. + +"An' fwhat hev ye thayer? Good land! if it ain't Skunk's Cabbage! Ye +sure come up by the Bend. That's the on'y place whayer that grows." + +"Yes," replied Yan; "that's just where I got it. But hold on, Granny, +I want to sketch all those and note down their names and what you say +about them." + +"Shure, you'd hev a big book when I wuz through," said the old woman +with pride, as she lit her pipe, striking the match on what would have +been the leg of her pants had she been a man. + +"An' shure ye don't need to write down what they're good fur, fur the +good Lord done that Himself long ago. Luk here, now. That's Cohosh, +fur spazzums, an' luks like it; that's Moccasin, fur Highsterricks, +an' luks like it; wall, thar's Skunk-root fur both, an' don't it luk +like the two o' thim thigither?" + +Yan feebly agreed, but had much difficulty in seeing what the plant +had in common with the others. + +"An' luk here! Thayer ye got Lowbelier, that some calls Injun +tobaccer. Ye found this by the crick, an' it's a little airly--ahead +o' toime. That's the shtuff to make ye throw up when ye want to. Luk, +ain't that lafe the livin' shape of a shtummick? + +"Thayer's the Highbelier; it's a high hairb, an' it's moighty foine +fur the bowels when ye drink the dry root. + +"Spicewood" [Spicebush, _Lindera benzoin_], "or Fayverbush, them +twigs is great fur tay--that cures shakes and fayver. Shure an' it +shakes ivery toime the wind blows. + +"That's Clayvers," she said, picking up a Galium. "Now fwhat wud ye +think that wuz fur to cure?" + +"I don't know. What is it?" + +"Luk now, an' see how it's wrote in it plain as prent--yes, an' a +sight plainer, fur I can read them an' I can't read a wurrud in a +book. Now fwhat is that loike?" said she, holding up the double +seed-pod. + +"A brain and spinal column," said Yan. + +"Och, choild, I hev better eyes than ye. Shure them's two kidneys, an' +that's fwhat Clayver tay will cure better'n all the docthers in the +wurruld, an' ye hev to know just how. Ye see, kidney thruble is +a koind o' fayver; it's hatin', so ye make yer Clayver tay in +_cold_ wather; if ye make it o' warrum wather it just makes ye +wuss an' acts loike didly pizen. Thayer's Sweatplant, or Boneset" +[_Eupatorium perfoliatum_], "that's the thing to sweat ye. Wanst +Oi sane a feller jest dyin' o' dry hoide, wuz all hoidebound, an' the +docthers throid an' throid an' couldn't help wan bit, till I guv his +mother some Boneset leaves to make tay, an' he sweat buckets before +he'd more'n smelt av it, an' the docthers thought they done it +theirsilves!" and she cackled gleefully. + +"Thayer's Goldthread fur cankermouth, an' Pipsissewa that cures fayver +an' rheumatiz, too. It always grows where folks gits them disayses. +Luk at the flower just blotched red an' white loike fayver +blotches--an' Spearmint, that saves ye if ya pizen yerself with +Spaszum-root, an' shure it grows right next it in the woods! + +"Thayer's Wormseed fur wurrums--see the 'ittle wurrum on the leaves" +_[Chenopodium]_ "an' that thayer is Pleurisy root, an' thayer! +well, thayer's the foinest hairb that iver God made to grow--that's +Cure all. Some things cures wan thing and some cures another, but when +ye don't know just what to take, ye make tay o' that root an' ye can't +go wrong. It was an Injun larned me that. The poor miserable baste of +a haythen hed some larnin', an' the minit he showed me I knowed it was +so, fur ivery lafe wuz three in wan an' wan in three, an' had the sign +o' the blessed crass in the middle as plain as that biler settin' on +the stove." + +Thus she chattered away, smoking her short pipe, expectorating on the +top of the hot stove, but with true feminine delicacy she was careful +each time to wipe her mouth on the back of her skinny arm. + +"An' that's what's called Catnip; sure Oi moind well the day Oi furst +larned about that. It warn't a Injun nor a docther nor a man at all, +at all, that larned me that. It was that ould black Cat, an' may the +saints stand bechuxt me an' his grane eyes! Bejabers, sometimes he +scares me wid his knowin' ways, but I hev nothin' agin him except that +he kills the wee burruds. He koind o' measled all wan winter an' lay +around the stove. Whiniver the dooer was open he'd go an' luk out an' +then come back an' meow an' wheen an' lay down--an' so he kep' on, +gittin' waker an' worser, till the snow wuz gone an' grass come up, +an' still he'd go a-lukin' toward the ayst, especially nights. Then +thayer come up a plant I had never sane, right thayer, an' he'd luk at +it an' luk at it loike he wanted it but didn't dar to. Thar was some +foine trays out thayer in thim days afore the ould baste cut thim +down, an' wan av thim hed a big limb, so--an' another so--an' when the +moon come up full at jest the right time the shaddy made the sign av +the crass an' loighted on me dooer, an' after it was past it didn't +make no crass. Well, bejabers, the full moon come up at last an' she +made the sign of the shaddy crass, an' the ould Cat goes out an' +watches an' watches loike he wanted to an' didn't dar to, till that +crass drapped fayer onto the hairbs, an' Tom he jumped then an' ate +an' ate, an' from that day he was a well Cat; an' that's how Oi larned +Catnip, an' it set me moind aisy, too, fur no Cat that's possesst 'll +iver ate inunder the shaddy av the crass." + +Yan was scribbling away, but had given up any attempt to make sketches +or even notes beyond the names of the plants. + +"Shure, choild, put them papers wid the names on the hairbs an' save +_them_; that wuz fwhat Docther Carmartin done whin Oi was larnin' +him. Thayer, now, that's it," she added, as Yan took the hint and +began slipping on each stalk a paper label with its name. + +"That's a curious broom," said Yan, as his eye fell on the symbol of +order and cleanliness, making strange reflections on itself. + +"Yes; sure, that's a Baitche broom. Larry makes 'em." + +"Larry?" + +"Yes, me bhoy." [Larry was nearly sixty.] "He makes thim of Blue +Baitche." + +"How?" asked Yan, picking it up and examining it with intense +interest. + +"Whoi, shure, by whittlin'. Larry's a howly terror to whittle, an' +he gets a Blue Baitche sapling 'bout three inches thick an' starts +a-whittlin" long slivers, but laves them on the sthick at wan end till +thayer all round loike that." + +"What, like a fire-lighter?" + +"Yis, yis, that's it, only bigger, an Blue Baitche is terrible tough. +Then whin he has the sthick down to 'bout an inch thick, he ties all +the slivers the wrong way wid a sthrand o' Litherwood, an' thrims down +the han'el to suit, an' evens up the ind av the broom wid the axe an' +lets it dhry out, an' thayer yer is. Better broom was niver made, an' +there niver wus ony other in th' famb'ly till he married that Kitty +Connor, the lowest av the low, an' it's meself was all agin her, wid +her proide an' her dirthy sthuck-up ways' nothin' but boughten things +wuz good enough fur her, _her_ that niver had a dacint male till +she thrapped moi Larry. Yis, low be it sphoken, but 'thrapped' 's the +wurrud," said the old woman, raising her voice to give emphasis that +told a lurid tale. + +At this moment the door opened and in came Biddy, and as she was the +daughter of the unspeakable Kitty the conversation turned. + +"An' sure it's glad to see ye I am, an' when are ye comin' down to +reside at our place?" was her greeting to Yan, and while they talked +Granny took advantage of the chance to take a long pull at a bottle +that looked and smelled like Lung-balm. + +"Moi, Biddy, yer airly," said Granny. + +"Shure, an' now it was late whin I left home, an' the schulmaster says +it's always so walking from ayst to west." + +"An' shure it's glad Oi am to say ye, fur Yan will shtop an ate wid +us. It ain't duck an' grane pase, but, thank God, we hev enough an' a +hearty welcome wid ivery boite. Ye say, Biddy makes me dinner ivery +foine day an' Oi get a boite an' a sup for meself other toimes, an' +slapes be me lone furby me Dog an' Cat an' the apples, which thayer +ain't but a handful left, but fwhat thar is is yourn. Help yerself, +choild, an' ate hearty," and she turned down the gray-looking +bedclothes to show the last half-dozen of the same rosy apples. + +"Aint you afraid to sleep here alone nights, Granny?" + +"Shure fwhat hev Oi to fayre? Thayer niver wuz robbers come but wanst, +an' shure I got theyer last cint aff av them. They come one night an' +broke in, an' settin' up, Oi sez, 'Now fwhat _are_ yez lukin' +fur?' + +"'Money,' sez they, fur thayer was talk all round thin that Oi had +sold me cow fur $25. + +"'Sure, thin, Oi'll get up an' help ye,' sez Oi, fur divil a cint hev +Oi been able to set me eyes on sense apple harvest.'" + +'"We want $25, or we'll kill ye.' + +"'Faith, an' if it wuz twenty-five cints Oi couldn't help it,' sez Oi, +'an' it's ready to die Oi am,' sez Oi, 'fur Oi was confessed last wake +an' Oi'm a-sayin' me prayers _this_ minit.' + +"Sez the littlest wan, an' he wa'n't so little, nigh as br'ad as that +dooer, 'Hevn't ye sold yer cow?' + +"'Ye'll foind her in the barrun,' sez Oi, 'though Oi hate to hev yez +disturb her slapin'. It makes her drame an' that's bad fur the milk.' + +"An' next thing them two robbers wuz laffin' at each other fur fools. +Then the little wan sez: + +"'Now, Granny, we'll lave ye in pace, if ye'll niver say a wurrud o' +this'--but the other wan seemed kind o' sulky. + +"'Sorra a wurrud,' sez Oi, 'an' good frinds we'll be yit,' an' they +wuz makin' fur the dooer to clayer out whin I sez: + +"'Howld on! Me friends can't lave me house an' naither boite nor sup; +turn yer backs an' ye plaze, till Oi get on me skirt.' An' whin Oi wuz +up an' dacint an' tould them they could luk, Oi sez, 'It's the foinest +Lung balm in the land ye shall taste,' an' the littlest feller he +starts a-coughin', oh, a turrible cough--it fair scairt me, like a +hoopin' croup--an' the other seemed just mad, and the littlest wan +made fun av him. Oi seen the mean wan wuz left-handed or let on he +wuz, but when he reached out fur the bottle he had on'y three fingers +on his right, an' they both av them had the biggest, blackest, +awfulest lukin' bairds--I'd know them two bairds agin ony place--an' +the littlest had a rag round his head, said he had a toothache, but +shure yer teeth don't ache in the roots o' yer haiyer. Then when they +wuz goin' the littlest wan put a dollar in me hand an' sez, 'It's all +we got bechuxst us, Granny.' 'Godbless ye,' sez Oi, 'an' Oi take it +kindly. It's the first Oi seen sense apple harvest, an' it's a friend +ye hev in me whin ye nade wan,'" and the old woman chuckled over her +victory. + +"Granny, do you know what the Indians use for dyeing colours?" asked +Yan, harking back to his main purpose. + +"Shure, Yahn, they jest goes to the store an' gets boughten dyes in +packages like we do." + +"But before there were boughten dyes, didn't they use things in the +woods?" + +"That they did, for shure. Iverything man iver naded the good Lord +made grow fur him in the woods." + +"Yes, but what plants?" + +"Faix, an' they differ fur different things." + +"Yes, but what are they?" Then seeing how general questions failed, he +went at it in detail. + +"What do they use for yellow dye on the Porcupine quills--I mean +before the boughten dyes came?" + +"Well, shure an' that's a purty yellow flower that grows in the fall +out in the field an' along the fences. The Yaller Weed, I call it, +an' some calls it Goldenrod. They bile the quills in wather with the +flower. Luk! Thar's some wool dyed that way." + +"An' the red?" said Yan, scribbling away. + +"Faix, an' they had no rale good red. They made a koind o' red o' +berry juice b'iled, an' wanst I seen a turrible nice red an ol' squaw +made b'ilin' the quills fust in yaller awhile an' next awhile in red." + +"What berries make the best red, Granny?" + +"Well, 'tain't the red wans, as ye moight think. Ye kin make it of +Rosberries or Sumac or Huckleberries an' lots more, but Black Currants +is redder than Red Currants, an' Squaw berries is best av them all." + +"What are they like?" + +"Shure, an' Oi'll show ye that same hairb," and they wandered around +outside the shanty in vain search. "It's too airly," said Granny, "but +it's round thayer in heaps in August an' is the purtiest red iver +grew. 'An Pokeweed, too, it ain't har'ly flowerin' yit, but in the +fall it hez berries that's so red they're nigh black, an' dyes the +purtiest kind o' a purple." + +"What makes blue?" + +"Oi niver sane none in the quills. Thayer may be some. The good Lord +made iverything grow in the woods, but I ain't found it an' niver seen +none. Ye kin make a grane av the young shoots av Elder, but it ain't +purty like that," and she pointed to a frightful emerald ribbon that +Biddy wore, "an' a brown of Butternut bark, an' a black av White Oak +chips an' bark. Ye kin make a kind o' grane av two dips, wan of yaller +an wan av black. Ye kin dye black wid Hickory bark, an' orange (bad +scran to it) wid the inner bark of Birch, an' yaller wid the roots +av Hoop Ash, an' a foine scarlet from the bark av the little root av +Dogwood, but there ain't no rale blue in the woods, an' that's what I +tell them orange-an'-blue Prattisons on the 12th o' July, fur what the +Lord didn't make the divil did. + +"Ye kin make a koind of blue out o' the Indigo hairb, but 'tain't like +this," pointing to some screaming cobalt, "an' if it ain't in the +woods the good Lord niver meant us to have it. Yis! I tell ye it's +the divil's own colour, that blue-orange an' blue is the divil's own +colours, shure enough, fur brimstone's yaller; an' its blue whin it's +burnin', that I hed from his riv'rince himself--bless him!" + + + + +XII. + +Dinner with the Witch + + +Biddy meanwhile had waddled around the room slapping the boards with +her broad bare feet as she prepared their dinner. She was evidently +trying to put on style, for she turned out her toes excessively. +She spoke several times about "the toime when she resoided with yer +mamma," then at length, "Whayer's the tablecloth, Granny?" + +"Now, wud ye listen to thot, an' she knowin' that divil a clath hev we +in the wurruld, an' glad enough to hev vittles on the table, let +alone a clath," said Granny, oblivious of the wreck she was making of +Biddy's pride. + +"Will ye hay tay or coffee, Yahn?" said Biddy. + +"Tea," was Yan's choice. + +"Faix, an' Oi'm glad ye said tay, fur Oi ain' seen a pick o' coffee +sense Christmas, an' the tay Oi kin git in the woods, but thayer is +somethin' Oi kin set afore ye that don't grow in the woods," and the +old woman hobbled to a corner shelf, lifted down an old cigar box and +from among matches, tobacco, feathers, tacks, pins, thread and dust +she picked six lumps of cube sugar, formerly white. + +"Thayer, shure, an' Oi wuz kapin' this fur whin his riv'rence comes; +wanst a year he's here, God bless him! but that's fower wakes ahid, +an' dear knows fwhat may happen afore thin. Here, an' a hearty +welcome," said she, dropping three of the lumps in Yan's tea. "We'll +kape the rest fur yer second cup. Hev some crame?" and she pushed over +a sticky-handled shaving-mug full of excellent cream. "Biddy, give +Yahn some bread." + +The loaf, evidently the only one, was cut up and two or three slices +forced into Yan's plate. + +"Mebbe the butther is a little hoigh," exclaimed the hostess, noting +that Yan was sparing of it. "Howld on." She went again to the corner +shelf and got down an old glass jar with scalloped edge and a flat tin +cover. It evidently contained jam. She lifted the cover and exclaimed: + +"Well, Oi niver!" Then going to the door she fished out with her +fingers a dead mouse and threw it out, remarking placidly, "Oi've +wondered whayer the little divil wuz. Oi ain't sane him this two +wakes, an' me a-thinkin' it wuz Tom ate him. May Oi be furgiven the +onjustice av it. Consarn them flies! That cover niver did fit." And +again her finger was employed, this time to scrape off an incrustation +of unhappy flies that had died, like Clarence, in their favourite +beverage. + +"Thayer, Yan, now ate hearty, all av it, an' welcome. It does me good +to see ye ate--thayer's lots more whayer that come from," though it +was obvious that she had put her all upon the table. + +Poor Yan was in trouble. He felt instinctively that the good old soul +was wrecking her week's resources in this lavish hospitality, but he +also felt that she would be deeply hurt if he did not appear to enjoy +everything. The one possibly clean thing was the bread. He devoted +himself to that; it was of poorest quality; one or two hairs looping +in his teeth had been discouraging, but when he bit at a piece of +linen rag with a button on it he was fairly upset. He managed to hide +the rag, but could not conceal his sudden loss of appetite. + +"Hev some more av this an' this," and in spite of himself his +plate was piled up with things for him to eat, including a lot of +beautifully boiled potatoes, but unfortunately the hostess carried +them from the pot on the stove in a corner of her ancient and somber +apron, and served him with her skinny paw. + +Yan's appetite was wholly gone now, to the grief of his kind +entertainer, "Shure an' she'd fix him up something to stringthen him," +and Yan had hard work to beg off. + +"Would ye like an aig," ventured Biddy. + +"Why, yes! oh, yes, please," exclaimed Yan, with almost too much +enthusiasm. He thought, "Well, hens are pure-minded creatures, anyway. +An egg's sure to be clean." + +Biddy waddled away to the 'barrun' and soon reappeared with three +eggs. + +"B'iled or fried?" + +"Boiled," said Yan, aiming to keep to the safe side. + +Biddy looked around for a pot. + +"Shure, _that's_ b'ilin' now," said Granny, pointing to the great +mass of her undergarments seething in the boiler, and accordingly the +eggs were dropped in there. + +Yan fervently prayed that they might not break. As it was, two did +crack open, but he got the other one, and that was virtually his +dinner. + +A Purple Blackbird came hopping in the door now. + +"Will, now, thayer's Jack. Whayer hev ye been? I thought ye wuz gone +fur good. Shure Oi saved him from a murtherin' gunner," she explained. +"(Bad scran to the baste! I belave he was an Or'ngeman.) But he's all +right now an' comes an' goes like he owned the place. Now, Jack, you +git out av that wather pail," as the beautiful bird leaped into the +half-filled drinking bucket and began to take a bath. + +"Now luk at that," she shouted, "ye little rascal, come out o' that +oven," for now the Blackbird had taken advantage of the open door to +scramble into the dark warm oven. + +"Thayer he goes to warrum his futs. Oh, ye little rascal! Next thing +ye know some one'll slam the dooer, not knowin' a thing, and fire up, +an' it's roastin' aloive ye'll be. Shure an' it's tempted Oi am to +wring yer purty neck to save yer loife," and she drove him out with +the harshest of words and the gentlest of hands. + +Then Yan, with his arms full of labelled plants, set out for home. + +"Good-boi, choild, come back agin and say me soon. Bring some more +hairbs. Good-boi, an' bless ye. Oi hope it's no sin to say so, fur Oi +know yer a Prattison an' ye are all on yez goin' to hell, but yer a +foine bhoy. Oi'm tumble sorry yer a Prattison." + +When Yan got back to the Raftens' he found the dinner table set for +one, though it was now three in the afternoon. + +"Come and get your dinner," said Mrs. Raften in her quiet motherly +way. "I'll put on the steak. It will be ready in five minutes." + +"But I've had my dinner with Granny de Neuville." + +"Yes, I know!" + +"Did she stir yer tea with one front claw an' put jam on yer bread +with the other?" asked Raften, rather coarsely. + +"Did she b'ile her pet Blackbird fur yer soup?" said Sam. + +Yan turned very red. Evidently all had a good idea of what he had +experienced, but it jarred on him to hear their mockery of the good +old soul. + +He replied warmly, "She was just as kind and nice as she could be." + +"You had better have a steak now," said Mrs. Raften, in solicitous +doubt. + +How tempting was the thought of that juicy brown steak! How his empty +stomach did crave it! But the continued mockery had stirred him. He +would stand up for the warm-hearted old woman who had ungrudgingly +given him the best she had--had given her all--to make a hearty +welcome for a stranger. They should never know how gladly he would +have eaten now, and in loyalty to his recent hostess he added the +first lie of his life: + +"No, thank you very much, but really I am not in the least hungry. I +had a fine dinner at Granny de Neuville's." + +Then, defying the inner pangs of emptiness, he went about his evening +chores. + + + + +XIII + +The Hostile Spy + + +"Wonder where Caleb got that big piece of Birch bark," said Yan; "I'd +like some for dishes." + +"Guess I know. He was over to Burns's bush. There's none in ours. We +kin git some." + +"Will you ask him?" + +"Naw, who cares for an old Birch tree. We'll go an' borrow it when he +ain't lookin'." + +Yan hesitated. + +Sam took the axe. "We'll call this a war party into the enemy's +country. There's sure 'nuff war that-a-way. He's one of Da's +'_friends.'_" + +Yan followed, in doubt still as to the strict honesty of the +proceeding. + +Over the line they soon found a good-sized canoe Birch, and were busy +whacking away to get off a long roll, when a tall man and a small boy, +apparently attracted by the chopping, came in sight and made toward +them. Sam called under his breath: "It's old Burns. Let's git." + +There was no time to save anything but themselves and the axe. They +ran for the boundary fence, while Burns contented himself with +shouting out threats and denunciations. Not that he cared a straw for +the Birch tree--timber had no value in that country--but unfortunately +Raften had quarrelled with all his immediate neighbours, therefore +Burns did his best to make a fearful crime of the petty depredation. + +His valiant son, a somewhat smaller boy than either Yan or Sam, came +near enough to the boundary to hurl opprobrious epithets. + +"Red-head--red-head! You red-headed thief! Hol' on till my paw gits +hol' o' you--Raften, the Baften, the rick-strick Straften," and others +equally galling and even more exquisitely refined. + +"War party escaped and saved their scalps," and Sam placidly laid the +axe in its usual place. + +"Nothing lost but honour," added Yan. "Who's the kid?" + +"Oh, that's Guy Burns. I know him. He's a mean little cuss, always +sneaking and peeking. Lies like sixty. Got the prize--a big +scrubbing-brush--for being the dirtiest boy in school. We all voted, +and the teacher gave it to him." + +Next day the boys made another war party for Birch bark, but had +hardly begun operations when there was an uproar not far away, and a +voice, evidently of a small boy, mouthing it largely, trying to pass +itself off as a man's voice: "Hi, yer the ---- ----. Yer git off my +---- ---- place ---- ----" + +"Le's capture the little cuss, Yan." + +"An' burn him at the stake with horrid torture," was the rejoinder. + +They set out in his direction, but again the appearance of Burns +changed their war-party onslaught into a rapid retreat. + +(More opprobrium.) + +During the days that followed the boys were often close to the +boundary, but it happened that Burns was working near and Guy had the +quickest of eyes and ears. The little rat seemed ever on the alert. He +soon showed by his long-distance remarks that he knew all about the +boys' pursuits--had doubtless visited the camp in their absence. +Several times they saw him watching them with intense interest when +they were practising with bow and arrow, but he always retreated to a +safe distance when discovered, and then enjoyed himself breathing out +fire and slaughter. + +One day the boys came to the camp at an unusual hour. On going into a +near thicket Yan saw a bare foot under some foliage. "Hallo, what's +this?" He stooped down and found a leg to it and at the end of that +Guy Burns. + +Up Guy jumped, yelling "Paw--Paw--PAW!" He ran for his life, the +Indians uttering blood-curdlers on his track. But Yan was a runner, +and Guy's podgy legs, even winged by fear, had no chance. He was +seized and dragged howling back to the camp. + +"You let me alone, you Sam Raften--now you let me alone!" There was, +however, a striking lack of opprobrium in his remarks now. (Such +delicacy is highly commendable in the very young.) + +"First thing is to secure the prisoner, Yan." + +Sam produced a cord. + +"Pooh," said Yan. "You've got no style about you. Bring me some +Leatherwood." + +This was at hand, and in spite of howls and scuffles, Guy was solemnly +tied to a tree--a green one--because, as Yan pointed out, that would +resist the fire better. + +The two Warriors now squatted cross-legged by the fire. The older one +lighted a peace-pipe, and they proceeded to discuss the fate of the +unhappy captive. + +"Brother," said Yan, with stately gestures, "it is very pleasant to +hear the howls of this miserable paleface." (It was really getting to +be more than they could endure.) + +"Ugh--heap good," said the Woodpecker. + +"Ye better let me alone. My Paw'll fix you for this, you dirty +cowards," wailed the prisoner, fast losing control of his tongue. + +"Ugh! Take um scalp first, burn him after," and Little Beaver made +some expressive signs. + +"Wah--bully--me heap wicked," rejoined the Woodpecker, expectorating +on a stone and beginning to whet his jack-knife. + +The keen and suggestive "_weet, weet, weet_" of the knife on the +stone smote on Guy's ears and nerves with appalling effect. + +"Brother Woodpecker, the spirit of our tribe calls out for the blood +of the victim--all of it." + +"Great Chief Woodpecker, you mean," said Sam, aside. "If you don't +call me Chief, I won't call you Chief, that's all." + +The Great Woodpecker and Little Beaver now entered the teepee, +repainted each other's faces, adjusted their head-dresses and stepped +out to the execution. + +The Woodpecker re-whetted his knife. It did not need it, but he liked +the sound. + +Little Beaver now carried a lot of light firewood and arranged it in +front of the prisoner, but Guy's legs were free and he gave it a kick +which sent it all flying. The two War-chiefs leaped aside. "Ugh! Heap +sassy," said the ferocious Woodpecker. "Tie him legs, oh, Brother +Great Chief Little Beaver!" + +A new bark strip tied his legs securely to the tree. Then Chief +Woodpecker approached with his knife and said: + +"Great Brother Chief Little Beaver, if we scalp him there is only one +scalp, and _you_ will have nothing to show, except you're content +with the wishbone." + +Here was a difficulty, artificial yet real, but Yan suggested: + +"Great Brother Chief +Red-headed-Woodpecker-Settin'-on-a-Stump-with-his-Tail-Waggling-over-the +Edge, no scalp him; skin his hull head, then each take half skin." + +"Wah! Very good, oh Brother Big-Injun-Chief Great-Little-Beaver- +Chaw-a-Tree-Down." + +Then the Woodpecker got a piece of charcoal and proceeded in horrid +gravity to mark out on the tow hair of the prisoner just what he +considered a fair division. Little Beaver objected that he was +entitled to an ear and half of the crown, which is the essential part +of the scalp. The Woodpecker pointed out that fortunately the prisoner +had a cow-lick that was practically a second crown. This ought to do +perfectly well for the younger Chief's share. The charcoal lines were +dusted off for a try-over. Both Chiefs got charcoal now and a new +sketch plan was made on Guy's tow top and corrected till it was +accepted by both. + +[Illustration: "Ugh! Heap sassy!"] + +The victim had really never lost heart till now. His flow of threats +and epithets had been continuous and somewhat tedious. He had +threatened to tell his "paw" and "the teacher," and all the world, but +finally he threatened to tell Mr. Raften. This was the nearest to a +home thrust of any yet, and in some uneasiness the Woodpecker turned +to Little Beaver and said: + +"Brother Chief, do you comprehend the language of the blithering +Paleface? What does he say?" + +"Ugh, I know not," was the reply. "Maybe he now singeth a death song +in his own tongue." + +Guy was not without pluck. He had kept up heart so far believing that +the boys were "foolin'," but when he felt the awful charcoal line +drawn to divide his scalp satisfactorily between these two inhuman, +painted monsters, and when with a final "_weet, weet, weet_" +of the knife on the stone the implacable Woodpecker approached and +grabbed his tow locks in one hand, then he broke down and wept +bitterly. + +"Oh, please don't----Oh, Paw! Oh, Maw! Let me go this time an' I'll +never do it again." What he would not do was not specified, but the +evidence of surrender was complete. + +"Hold on, Great Brother Chief," said Little Beaver. "It is the custom +of the tribes to release or even to adopt such prisoners as have shown +notable fortitude." + +"Showed fortitude enough for six if it's the same thing as yellin'," +said the Woodpecker, dropping into his own vernacular. + +"Let us cut his bonds so that he may escape to his own people." + +"Thar'd be more style to it if we left him thar overnight an' found +next mornin' he had escaped somehow by himself," said the older Chief. +The victim noted the improvement in his situation and now promised +amid sobs to get them all the Birch bark they wanted--to do anything, +if they would let him go. He would even steal for them the choicest +products of his father's orchard. + +Little Beaver drew his knife and cut bond after bond. + +Woodpecker got his bow and arrow, remarking "Ugh, heap fun shoot him +runnin'." + +The last bark strip was cut. Guy needed no urging. He ran for the +boundary fence in silence till he got over; then finding himself safe +and unpursued, he rilled the air with threats and execrations. No part +of his statement would do to print here. + +After such a harrowing experience most boys would have avoided that +swamp, but Guy knew Sam at school as a good-natured fellow. He began +to think he had been unduly scared. He was impelled by several +motives, a burning curiosity being, perhaps the most important. The +result was that one day when the boys came to camp they saw Guy +sneaking off. It was fun to capture him and drag him back. He was very +sullen, and not so noisy as the other time, evidently less scared. +The Chiefs talked of fire and torture and of ducking him in the pond +without getting much response. Then they began to cross-examine the +prisoner. He gave no answer. Why did he come to the camp? What was he +doing--stealing? etc. He only looked sullen. + +"Let's blindfold him and drive a Gyascutus down his back," said Yan in +a hollow voice. + +"Good idee," agreed Sam, not knowing any more than the prisoner what a +Gyascutus was. Then he added, "just as well be merciful. It'll put him +out o' pain." + +It is the unknown that terrifies. The prisoner's soul was touched +again. His mouth was trembling at the corners. He was breaking down +when Yan followed it up: "Then why don't you tell us what you are +doing here?" + +He blubbered out, "I want to play Injun, too." + +The boys broke down in another way. They had not had time to paint +their faces, so that their expressions were very clear on this +occasion. + +Then Little Beaver arose and addressed the Council. + +"Great Chiefs of the Sanger Nation: The last time we tortured and +burned to death this prisoner, he created quite an impression. Never +before has one of our prisoners shown so many different kinds of +gifts. I vote to receive him into the Tribe." + +The Woodpecker now arose and spoke: + +"O wisest Chief but one in this Tribe, that's all right enough, but +you know that no warrior can join us without first showing that he's +good stuff and clear grit, all wool, and a cut above the average +somehow. It hain't never been so. Now he's got to lick some Warrior of +the Tribe. Kin you do that?" + +"Nope." + +"Or outrun one or outshoot him or something--or give us all a present. +What kin you do?" + +"I kin steal watermillyons, an' I kin see farder 'n any boy in school, +an' I kin sneak to beat all creation. I watched you fellers lots of +times from them bushes. I watched you buildin' that thar dam. _I +swum in it 'fore you did_, an' I uster set an' smoke in your teepee +when you wasn't thar, an' I heerd you talk the time you was fixin' up +to steal our Birch bark." + +"Don't seem to me like it all proves much _fortitude_. Have you +got any presents for the oldest head Chief of the tribe?" + +"I'll get you all the Birch bark you want. I can't git what you cut, +coz me an' Paw burned that so you couldn't git it, but I'll git you +lots more, an' maybe--I'll steal you a chicken once in awhile." + +"His intentions are evidently honourable Let's take him in on +sufferance," said Yan. + +"All right," replied the head Chief, "he kin come in, but that don't +spile my claim to that left half of his scalp down to that tuft of +yellow moss on the scruff of his neck where the collar has wore off +the dirt. I'm liable to call for it any time, an' the ear goes with +it." + +Guy wanted to treat this as a joke, but Sam's glittering eyes and +inscrutable face were centered hungrily on that "yaller tuft" in a way +that gave him the "creeps" again. + +"Say, Yan--I mean Great Little Beaver--you know all about it, what +kind o' stunts did they have to do to get into an Injun tribe, +anyhow?" + +"Different tribes do different ways, but the Sun Dance and the Fire +Test are the most respectable and both _terribly hard_." + +"Well, what did _you_ do?" queried the Great Woodpecker. + +"Both," said Yan grinning, as he remembered his sunburnt arms and +shoulders. + +"Quite sure?" said the older Chief in a tone of doubt. + +"Yes, sir; and I bore it so well that every one there agreed that +I was the best one in the Tribe," said Little Beaver, omitting to +mention the fact that he was the only one in it. "I was unanimously +named 'Howling Sunrise.'" + +"Well, I want to be 'Howling Sunrise,'" piped Guy in his shrill voice. + +"You? You don't know whether you can pass at all, you Yaller +Mossback." + +"Come, Mossy, which will you do?" + +Guy's choice was to be sunburnt to the waist. He was burnt and +freckled already to the shoulders, on arms as well as on neck, and his +miserable cotton shirt so barely turned the sun's rays that he was +elsewhere of a deep yellow tinge with an occasional constellation of +freckles. Accordingly he danced about camp all one day with nothing on +but his pants, and, of course, being so seasoned, he did not burn. + +As the sun swung low the Chiefs assembled in Council. + +The head Chief looked over the new Warrior, shook his head gravely and +said emphatically: "Too green to burn. Your name is Sapwood." + +Protest was in vain. "Sappy," he was and had to be until he won a +better name. The peace pipe was smoked all round and he was proclaimed +third War Chief of the Sanger Indians (the word _War_ inserted by +special request). + +He was quite the most harmless member of the band and therefore took +unusual pleasure in posing as the possessor of a perennial thirst for +human heart-blood. War-paint was his delight, and with its aid he was +singularly successful in correcting his round and smiling face into +a savage visage of revolting ferocity. Paint was his hobby and his +pride, but alas! how often it happens one's deepest sorrow is in the +midst of one's greatest joy--the deepest lake is the old crater on top +of the highest mountain. Sappy's eyes were _not_ the sinister +black beads of the wily Red-man, but a washed-out blue. His ragged, +tow-coloured locks he could hide under wisps of horsehair, the paint +itself redeemed his freckled skin, but there was no remedy for the +white eyelashes and the pale, piggy, blue eyes. He kept his sorrow to +himself, however, for he knew that if the others got an inkling of his +feelings on the subject his name would have been promptly changed +to "Dolly" or "Birdy," or some other equally horrible and un-Indian +appellation. + + + + +XIV + +The Quarrel + + +"Say, Yan, I saw a Blood-Robin this morning." + +"That's a new one," said Yan, in a tone of doubt. + +"Well, it's the purtiest bird in the country." + +"What? A Humming-bird?" + +"Na-aw-w-w. They ain't purty, only small." + +"Well, that shows what you know," retorted Yan, "'for these exquisite +winged gems are at once the most diminutive and brilliantly coloured +of the whole feathered race.'" This phrase Yan had read some where and +his overapt memory had seized on it. + +"Pshaw!" said Sam. "Sounds like a book, but I'll bet I seen hundreds +of Hummin'-birds round the Trumpet-vine and Bee-balm in the garden, +an' they weren't a millionth part as purty as this. Why, it's just as +red as blood, shines like fire and has black wings. The old Witch says +the Indians call it a War-bird 'cause when it flew along the trail +there was sure going to be war, which is like enough, fur they wuz at +it all the hull time." + +"Oh, I know," said Yan. "A Scarlet Tanager. Where did you see it?" + +"Why, it came from the trees, then alighted on the highest pole of the +teepee." + +"Hope there isn't going to be any war there, Sam. I wish I had one to +stuff." + +"Tried to get him for you, sonny, spite of the Rules. Could 'a' done +it, too, with a gun. Had a shy at him with an arrow an' I hain't been +bird or arrow since. 'Twas my best arrow, too--old Sure-Death." + +"Will ye give me the arrow if I kin find it?" said Guy. + +"Now you bet I won't. What good'd that be to me?" + +"Will you give me your chewin' gum?" + +"No." + +"Will you lend it to me?" + +"Yep." + +"Well, there's your old arrow," said Guy, pulling it from between the +logs where it had fallen. "I seen it go there an' reckoned I'd lay low +an' watch the progress of events, as Yan says," and Guy whinnied. + +Early in the morning the Indians in war-paint went off on a prowl. +They carried their bows and arrows, of course, and were fully alert, +studying the trail at intervals and listening for "signs of the +enemy." + +Their moccasined feet gave forth no sound, and their keen eyes took in +every leaf that stirred as their sinewy forms glided among the huge +trunks of the primeval vegetation--at least, Yan's note-book said they +did. They certainly went with very little noise, but they disturbed a +small Hawk that flew from a Balsam-fir--a "Fire tree" they now called +it, since they had discovered the wonderful properties of the wood. + +Three arrows were shot after it and no harm done. Yan then looked into +the tree and exclaimed: + +"A nest." + +"Looks to me like a fuzz-ball," said Guy. + +"Guess not," replied Yan. "Didn't we scare the Hawk off?" + +He was a good climber, quite the best of the three, and dropping his +head-dress, coat, leggings and weapon, she shinned up the Balsam +trunk, utterly regardless of the gum which hung in crystalline drops +or easily burst bark-bladders on every part. + +He was no sooner out of sight in the lower branches than Satan entered +into Guy's small heart and prompted him thus: + +"Le's play a joke on him an' clear out." + +Sam's sense of humour beguiled him. They stuffed Yan's coat and +pants with leaves and rubbish, put them properly together with the +head-dress, then stuck one of his own arrows through the breast of the +coat into the ground and ran away. + +Meanwhile Yan reached the top of the tree and found that the nest was +only one of the fuzz-balls so common on Fir trees. He called out to +his comrades but got no reply, so came down. At first the ridiculous +dummy seemed funny, then he found that his coat had been injured and +the arrow broken. He called for his companions, but got no answer; +again and again, without reply. He went to where they all had intended +going, but if they were there they hid from him, and feeling himself +scurvily deserted he went back to camp in no very pleasant humour. +They were not there. He sat by the fire awhile, then, yielding to his +habit of industry, he took off his coat and began to work at the dam. + +He became engrossed in his work and did not notice the return of the +runaways till he heard a voice saying "What's this?" + +On turning he saw Sam poring over his private note-book and then +beginning to read aloud: + + "Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird + Thou art----" + +But Yan snatched it out of his hands. + +"I'll bet the rest was something about 'Singbird,'" said Sam. + +Yan's face was burning with shame and anger. He had a poetic streak, +and was morbidly sensitive about any one seeing its product. The +Kingbird episode of their long evening walk was but one of many +similar. He had learned to delight in these daring attacks of the +intrepid little bird on the Hawks and Crows, and so magnified them +into high heroics until he must try to record them in rhyme. It was +very serious to him, and to have his sentiments afford sport to +the others was more than he could bear. Of course Guy came out and +grinned, taking his cue from Sam. Then he remarked in colourless +tones, as though announcing an item of general news, "They say there +was a fearless-crested Injun shot in the woods to-day." + +The morning's desertion left Yan in no mood for chaffing. He rightly +attributed the discourtesy to Guy. Turning savagely toward him he +said, meaningly: + +"Now, no more of your sass, you dirty little sneak." + +"I ain't talkin' to you," Guy snickered, and followed Sam into the +teepee. There were low voices within for a time. Yan went over toward +the dam and began to plug mud into some possible holes. Presently +there was more snickering in the teepee, then Guy came out alone, +struck a theatrical attitude and began to recite to a tree above Yan's +head: + + "Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird, + Thou art but a blooming sing bird--" + +But the mud was very handy and Yan hurled a mass that spattered Guy +thoroughly and sent him giggling into the teepee. + +"Them's the bow-kays," Sam was heard to say. "Go out an' git some +more; dead sure you deserve 'em. Let _me_ know when the calls for +'author' begin?" Then there was more giggling. Yan was fast losing all +control of himself. He seized a big stick and strode into the teepee, +but Sam lifted the cover of the far side and slipped out. Guy tried to +do the same, but Yan caught him. + +"Here, I ain't doin' nothin'." + +The answer was a sounding whack which made him wriggle. + +"You let me alone, you big coward. I ain't doin' nothin' to you. You +better let me alone. Sam! S-A-M! S-A-A-A-M!!!" as the stick came down +again and again. + +"Don't bother me," shouted Sam outside. "I'm writin' poethry--terrible +partic'lar job, poethry. He only means it in kindness, anyhow." + +Guy was screaming now and weeping copiously. + +"You'll get some more if you give me any more of your lip," said Yan, +and stepped out to meet Sam with the note-book again, apparently +scribbling away. As soon as he saw Yan he stood up, cleared his throat +and began: + + "Kingbird, fearless crested--" + +But he did not finish it. Yan struck him a savage blow on the mouth. +Sam sprang back a few steps. Yan seized a large stone. + +"Don't you throw that at me," said Sam seriously. Yan sent it with his +deadliest force and aim. Sam dodged it and then in self-defense ran at +Yan and they grappled and fought, while Guy, eager for revenge, rushed +to help Sam, and got in a few trifling blows. + +Sam was heavier and stronger than Yan, but Yan had gained wonderfully +since coming to Sanger. He was thin, but wiry, and at school he had +learned the familiar hip-throw that is as old as Cain and Abel. It was +all he did know of wrestling, but now it stood him in good stead. He +was strong with rage, too--and almost as soon as they grappled he +found his chance. Sam's heels flew up and he went sprawling in the +dust. One straight blow on the nose sent Guy off howling, and seeing +Sam once more on his feet, Yan rushed at him again like a wild beast. +A moment later the big boy went tumbling over the bank into the pond. + +"_You_ see if I don't get you sent about your business from +here," spluttered Sam, now thoroughly angry. "I'll tell Da you hender +the wurruk." His eyes were full of water and Guy's were full of stars +and of tears. Neither saw the fourth party near; but Yan did. There, +not twenty yards away, stood William Raften, spectator of the whole +affair--an expression not of anger but of infinite sorrow and +disappointment on his face--not because they had quarrelled--no--he +knew boy nature well enough not to give that a thought--but that +_his_ son, older and stronger than the other and backed by +another boy, should be licked in fair fight by a thin, half-invalid. + +It was as bitter a pill as he had ever had to swallow. He turned in +silence and disappeared, and never afterward alluded to the matter. + + +[Illustration: "There stood Raften, spectator of the whole affair."] + + + + +XV + +The Peace of Minnie + + +That night the two avoided each other. Yan ate but little, and to Mrs. +Raften's kindly solicitous questions he said he was not feeling well. + +After supper they were sitting around the table, the men sleepily +silent, Yan and Sam moodily so. Yan had it all laid out in his mind +now. Sam would make a one-sided report of the affair; Guy would +sustain him. Raften himself was witness of Yan's violence. + +The merry days at Sanger were over. He was doomed, and felt like a +condemned felon awaiting the carrying out of the sentence. There was +only one lively member of the group. That was little Minnie. She was +barely three, but a great chatterbox. Like all children, she dearly +loved a "secret," and one of her favourite tricks was to beckon to +some one, laying her pinky finger on her pinker lips, and then when +they stooped she would whisper in their ear, "Don't tell." That was +all. It was her Idea of a "seek-it." + +She was playing at her brother's knee. He picked her up and they +whispered to each other, then she scrambled down and went to Yan. He +lifted her with a tenderness that was born of the thought that she +alone loved him now. She beckoned his head down, put her chubby arms +around his neck and whispered, "_Don't tell_," then slid down, +holding her dear innocent little finger warningly before her mouth. + +What did it mean? Had Sam told her to do that, or was it a mere +repetition of her old trick? No matter, it brought a rush of warm +feeling into Yan's heart. He coaxed the little cherub back and +whispered, "No, Minnie, I'll never tell." He began to see how crazy he +had been. Sam was such a good fellow, he was very fond of him, and he +wanted to make up; but no--with Sam holding threats of banishment over +him, he could not ask for forgiveness. No, he would do nothing but +wait and see. + +He met Mr. Raften again and again that evening and nothing was said. +He slept little that night and was up early. He met Mr. Raften +alone--rather tried to meet him alone. He wanted to have it over with. +He was one of the kind not prayed for in the Litany that crave "sudden +death." But Raften was unchanged. At breakfast Sam was as usual, +except to Yan, and not very different to him. He had a swelling on his +lip that he said he got "tusslin' with the boys somehow or nuther." + +After breakfast Raften said: + +"Yahn, I want you to come with me to the schoolhouse." + +"It's come at last," thought Yan, for the schoolhouse was on the road +to the railroad station. But why did not Raften say "the station"? +He was not a man to mince words. Nothing was said about his handbag +either, and there was no room for it in the buggy anyway. + +Raften drove in silence. There was nothing unusual in that. At length +he said: + +"Yahn, what's yer father goin' to make of ye?" + +"An artist," said Yan, wondering what this had to do with his +dismissal. + +"Does an artist hev to be bang-up eddicated?" + +"They're all the better for it." + +"Av coorse, av coorse, that's what I tell Sam. It's eddication that +counts. Does artists make much money?" + +"Yes, some of them. The successful ones sometimes make millions." + +"Millions? I guess not. Ain't you stretchin' it just a leetle?" + +"No, sir. Turner made a million. Titian lived in a palace, and so did +Raphael." + +"Hm. Don't know 'em, but maybe so--maybe so. It's wonderful what +eddication does--that's what I tell Sam." + +They now drew near the schoolhouse. It was holiday time, but the door +was open and on the steps were two graybearded men. They nodded to +Raften. These men were the school trustees. One of them was Char-less +Boyle; the other was old Moore, poor as a church mouse, but a genial +soul, and really put on the Board as a lubricant between Boyle and +Raften. Boyle was much the more popular. But Raften was always made +trustee, for the people knew that he would take extremely good care of +funds and school as well as of scholars. + +This was a special meeting called to arrange for a new schoolhouse. +Raften got out a lot of papers, including letters from the Department +of Education. The School District had to find half the money; the +Department would supply the other half if all conditions were complied +with. Chief of these, the schoolhouse had to have a given number of +cubic feet of air for each pupil. This was very important, but how +were they to know in advance if they had the minimum and were not +greatly over. It would not do to ask the Department that. They could +not consult the teacher, for he was away now and probably would cheat +them with more air than was needed. It was Raften who brilliantly +solved this frightful mathematical problem and discovered a doughty +champion in the thin, bright-eyed child. + +"Yahn," he said, offering him a two-foot rule, "can ye tell me how +many foot of air is in this room for every scholar when the seats is +full?" + +"You mean cubic feet?" + +"Le's see," and Raften and Moore, after stabbing at the plans with +huge forefingers and fumbling cumberously at the much-pawed documents, +said together: "Yes, it says cubic feet." Yan quickly measured the +length of the room and took the height with the map-lifter. The three +graybeards gazed with awe and admiration as they saw how _sure_ +he seemed. He then counted the seats and said, "Do you count the +teacher?" The men discussed this point, then decided, "Maybe ye +better; he uses more wind than any of them. Ha, ha!" + +Yan made a few figures on paper, then said, "Twenty feet, rather +better." + +"Luk at thot," said Raften in a voice of bullying and triumph; "jest +agrees with the Gover'ment Inspector. I _towld_ ye he could. Now +let's put the new buildin' to test." + +More papers were pawed over. + +"Yahn, how's this--double as many children, one teacher an' the +buildin' so an' so." + +Yan figured a minute and said, "Twenty-five feet each." + +"Thar, didn't I tell ye," thundered Raften; "didn't I say that that +dhirty swindler of an architect was playing us into the conthractor's +hands--thought we wuz simple--a put-up job, the hull durn thing. Luk +at it! They're nothing but a gang of thieves." + +Yan glanced at the plan that was being flourished in the air. + +"Hold on," he said, with an air of authority that he certainly never +before had used to Raften, "there's the lobby and cloak-room to come +off." He subtracted their bulk and found the plan all right--the +Government minimum of air. + +Boyle's eye had now just a little gleam of triumphant malice. Raften +seemed actually disappointed not to have found some roguery. + +"Well, they're a shcaly lot, anyhow. They'll bear watchin'," he added, +in tones of self-justification. + +"Now, Yahn, last year the township was assessed at $265,000 an' we +raised $265 with a school-tax of wan mill on the dollar. This year the +new assessment gives $291,400; how much will the same tax raise if +cost of collecting is same?" + +"Two hundred and ninety-one dollars and forty cents," said Yan, +without hesitation--and the three men sat back in their chairs and +gasped. + +It was the triumph of his life. Even old Boyle beamed in admiration, +and Raften glowed, feeling that not a little of it belonged to him. + +There was something positively pathetic in the simplicity of the three +shrewd men and their abject reverence for the wonderful scholarship of +this raw boy, and not less touching was their absolute faith in his +infallibility as a mathematician. + +Raften grinned at him in a peculiar, almost a weak way. Yan had never +seen that expression on his face before, excepting once, and that +was as he shook hands with a noted pugilist just after he had won a +memorable fight. Yan did not know whether he liked it or not. + +On the road home Raften talked with unusual freeness about his plans +for his son. (Yan began to realize that the storm had blown over.) He +harped on his favourite theme, "eddication." If Yan had only known, +that was the one word of comfort that Raften found when he saw his big +boy go down: "It's eddication done it. Oh, but he's fine eddicated." +Yan never knew until years afterward, when a grown man and he and +Raften were talking of the old days, that he had been for some time +winning respect from the rough-and-ready farmer, but what finally +raised him to glorious eminence was the hip-throw that he served that +day on Sam. + + * * * * * + +Raften was all right, Yan believed, but what of Sam? They had not +spoken yet. Yan wished to make up, but it grew harder. Sam had got +over his wrath and wanted a chance, but did not know how. + +He had just set down his two buckets after feeding the pigs when +Minnie came toddling out. + +"Sam! Sam! Take Minnie to 'ide," then seeing Yan she added, "Yan, you +mate a tair, tate hold Sam's hand." + +The queen must be obeyed. Sam and Yan sheepishly grasped hands to make +a queen's chair for the little lady. She clutched them both around +the neck and brought their heads close together. They both loved the +pink-and-white baby between them, and both could talk to her though +not to each other. But there is something in touch that begets +comprehension. The situation was becoming ludicrous when Sam suddenly +burst out laughing, then: + +"Say, Yan, let's be friends." + +"I--I want--to--be," stammered Yan, with tears standing in his eyes. +"I'm awfully sorry. I'll never do it again," + +"Oh, shucks! I don't care," said Sam. "It was all that dirty little +sneak that made the trouble; but never mind, it's all right. The +only thing that worries me is how you sent me flying. I'm bigger an' +stronger an' older, I can heft more an' work harder, but you throwed +me like a bag o' shavings, I only wish I knowed how you done it." + + + + + + +PART III + +IN THE WOODS + + + + +I + +Really in the Woods + + +"Ye seem to waste a powerful lot o' time goin' up an' down to yer camp; +why don't ye stay thayer altogether?" said Raften one day, in the +colourless style that always worried every one, for they did not know +whether it was really meant or was mere sarcasm. + +"Suits me. 'Tain't our choice to come home," replied his son. + +"We'd like nothing better than to sleep there, too," said Yan. + +"Well, why don't ye? That's what I'd do if I was a boy playin' Injun; +I'd go right in an' play." + +"_All right now_," drawled Sam (he always drawled in proportion +to his emphasis), "that suits us; now we're a-going sure." + +"All right, bhoys," said Raften; "but mind ye the pigs an' cattle's to +be 'tended to every day." + +"Is that what ye call lettin' us camp out--come home to work jest the +same?" + +"No, no, William," interposed Mrs. Raften; "that's not fair. That's no +way to give them a holiday. Either do it or don't. Surely one of the +men can do the chores for a month." + +"Month--I didn't say nothin' about a month." + +"Well, why don't you now?" + +"Whoi, a month would land us into harvest," and William had the air of +a man at bay, finding them all against him. + +"I'll do Yahn's chores for a fortnight if he'll give me that thayer +pictur he drawed of the place," now came in Michel's voice from +the far end of the table--"except Sunday," he added, remembering a +standing engagement, which promised to result in something of vast +importance to him. + +"Wall, I'll take care o' them Sundays," said Si Lee. + +"Yer all agin me," grumbled William with comical perplexity. "But +bhoys ought to be bhoys. Ye kin go." + +"Whoop!" yelled Sam. + +"Hooray!" joined in Yan, with even more interest though with less +unrestraint. + +"But howld on, I ain't through--" + +"I say, Da, we want your gun. We can't go camping without a gun." + +"Howld on, now. Give me a chance to finish. Ye can go fur two weeks, +but ye got to _go_; no snakin' home nights to sleep. Ye can't hev +no matches an' no gun. I won't hev a lot o' children foolin' wid a +didn't-know-it-was-loaded, an' shootin' all the birds and squirrels +an' each other, too. Ye kin hev yer bows an' arrows an' ye ain't +likely to do no harrum. Ye kin hev all the mate an' bread an' stuff +ye want, but ye must cook it yerselves, an' if I see any signs of +settin' the Woods afire I'll be down wid the rawhoide an' cut the +very livers out o' ye." + +The rest of the morning was devoted to preparation, Mrs. Raften taking +the leading hand. + +"Now, who's to be cook?" she asked. + +"Sam"--"Yan"--said the boys in the same breath. + +"Hm! You seem in one mind about it. Suppose you take it turn and turn +about--Sam first day." + +Then followed instructions for making coffee in the morning, boiling +potatoes, frying bacon. Bread and butter enough they were to take with +them--eggs, too. + +"You better come home for milk every day or every other day, at +least," remarked the mother. + +"We'd ruther steal it from the cows in the pasture," ventured Sam, +"seems naturaler to me Injun blood." + +"If I ketch ye foolin' round the cows or sp'ilin' them the fur'll +fly," growled Raften. + +"Well, kin we hook apples and cherries?" and Sam added in explanation; +"they're no good to us unless they're hooked." + +"Take all the fruit ye want." + +"An' potatoes?" + +"Yes." + +"An' aigs?" + +"Well, if ye don't take more'n ye need." + +"An' cakes out of the pantry? Indians do that." + +"No; howld on now. That is a good place to draw the line. How are ye +goin' to get yer staff down thayer? It's purty heavy. Ye see thayer +are yer beds an' pots an' pans, as well as food." + +"We'll have to take a wagon to the swamp and then carry them on our +backs on the blazed trail," said Sam, and explained "our backs" by +pointing to Michel and Si at work in the yard. + +"The road goes as far as the creek," suggested Yan; "let's make a raft +there an' take the lot in it down to the swimming-pond; that'd be real +Injun." + +"What'll ye make the raft of?" asked Raften. + +"Cedar rails nailed together," answered Sam. + +"No nails in mine," objected Yan; "that isn't Injun." + +"An' none o' my cedar rails fur that. 'Pears to me it'd be less work +an' more Injun to pack the stuff on yer backs an' no risk o' wettin' +the beds." + +So the raft was given up, and the stuff was duly carted to the creek's +side. Raften himself went with it. He was a good deal of a boy at +heart and he was much in sympathy with the plan. His remarks showed +a mixture of interest, and doubt as to the wisdom of letting himself +take so much interest. + +"Hayre, load me up," he said, much to the surprise of the boys, as +they came to the creek's edge. His broad shoulders carried half of the +load. The blazed trail was only two hundred yards long, and in two +trips the stuff was all dumped down in front of the teepee. + +Sam noted with amusement the unexpected enthusiasm of his father. +"Say, Da, you're just as bad as we are. I believe you'd like to join +us." + +"'Moinds me o' airly days here," was the reply, with a wistful note in +his voice. "Many a night me an' Caleb Clark slep' out this way on this +very crick when them fields was solid bush. Do ye know how to make a +bed?" + +"Don't know a thing," and Sam winked at Yan. "Show us." + +"I'll show ye the rale thing. Where's the axe?" + +"Haven't any," said Yan. "There's a big tomahawk and a little +tomahawk." + +Raften grinned, took the big "tomahawk" and pointed to a small Balsam +Fir. "Now there's a foine bed-tree." + +"Why, that's a fire-tree, too," said Yan, as with two mighty strokes +Raften sent it toppling down, then rapidly trimmed it of its flat +green boughs. A few more strokes brought down a smooth young Ash and +cut it into four pieces, two of them seven feet long and two of them +five feet. Next he cut a White Oak sapling and made four sharp pegs +each two feet long. + +"Now, boys, whayer do you want yer bed?" then stopping at a thought +he added, "Maybe ye didn't want me to help--want to do everything +yerselves?" + +"Ugh, bully good squaw. Keep it up--wagh!" said his son and heir, as +he calmly sat on a log and wore his most "Injun brave" expression of +haughty approval. + +The father turned with an inquiring glance to Yan, who replied: + +"We're mighty glad of your help. You see, we don't know how. It seems +to me that I read once the best place in the teepee is opposite the +door and a little to one side. Let's make it here." So Raften placed +the four logs for the sides and ends of the bed and drove in the +ground the four stakes to hold them. Yan brought in several armfuls of +branches, and Raften proceeded to lay them like shingles, beginning at +the head-log of the bed and lapping them very much. It took all the +fir boughs, but when all was done there was a solid mass of soft green +tips a foot thick, all the butts being at the ground. + +"Thayer," said Raften, "that's an _Injun feather bed_ an' safe +an' warrum. Slapin' on the ground's terrible dangerous, but that's all +right. Now make your bed on that." Sam and Yan did so, and when it was +finished Raften said: "Now, fetch that little canvas I told yer ma to +put in; that's to fasten to the poles for an inner tent over the bed." + +Yan stood still and looked uncomfortable. + +"Say, Da, look at Yan. He's got that tired look that he wears when the +rules is broke." + +"What's wrong," asked Raften. + +"Indians don't have them that I ever heard of," said Little Beaver. + +"Yan, did ye iver hear of a teepee linin' or a dew-cloth?" + +"Yes," was the answer, in surprise at the unexpected knowledge of the +farmer. + +"Do ye know what they're like?" + +"No--at least--no--" + +"Well, _I do_; that's what it's like. That's something I do know, +fur I seen old Caleb use wan." + +"Oh, I remember reading about it now, and they are like that, and it's +on them that the Indians paint their records. Isn't that bully," as he +saw Raften add two long inner stakes which held the dew-cloth like a +canopy. + +"Say, Da, I never knew you and Caleb were hunting together. Thought ye +were jest natural born enemies." + +"Humph!" grunted Raften. "We wuz chums oncet. Never had no fault to +find till we swapped horses." + +"Sorry you ain't now, 'cause he's sure sharp in the woods." + +"He shouldn't a-tried to make an orphan out o' you." + +"Are you sure he done it?" + +"If 'twasn't him I dunno who 'twas. Yan, fetch some of them pine knots +thayer." + +Yan went after the knots; it was some yards into the woods, and out +there he was surprised to see a tall man behind a tree. A second's +glance showed it to be Caleb. The Trapper laid one finger on his lips +and shook his head. Yan nodded assent, gathered the knots, and went +back to the camp, where Sam continued: + +"You skinned him out of his last cent, old Boyle says." + +"An' whoi not, when he throid to shkin me? Before that I was helpin' +him, an' fwhat must he do but be ahfter swappin' horses. He might as +well ast me to play poker and then squeal when I scooped the pile. +Naybours is wan thing an' swappin' horses is another. All's fair in +a horse trade, an' friends didn't orter swap horses widout they kin +stand the shkinnin'. That's a game by itself. Oi would 'a' helped him +jest the same afther that swap an' moore, fur he wuz good stuff, but +he must nades shoot at me that noight as I come home wit the wad, so +av coorse--" + +"I wish ye had a Dog now," said the farmer in the new tone of a new +subject; "tramps is a nuisance at all toimes, an' a Dog is the best +med'cine for them. I don't believe old Cap'd stay here; but maybe yer +near enough to the house so they won't bother ye. An' now I guess the +Paleface will go back to the settlement. I promised ma that I'd see +that yer bed wuz all right, an' if ye sleep warrum an' dry an' hev +plenty to ate ye'll take no harrum." + +So he turned away, but as he was quitting the clearing he +stopped,--the curious boyish interest was gone from his face, the +geniality from his voice--then in his usual stern tones of command: + +[Illustration: "If ye kill any Song-birds, I'll use the rawhoide on +ye."] + +"Now, bhoys, ye kin shoot all the Woodchucks yer a mind ter, fur they +are a nuisance in the field. Yer kin kill Hawks an' Crows an' Jays, +fur they kill other birds, an' Rabbits an' Coons, fur they are fair +game; but I don't want to hear of yer killin' any Squirrels or +Chipmunks or Song-birds, an' if ye do I'll stop the hull thing an' +bring ye back to wurruk, an' use the rawhoide on tap o' that." + + + + +II + +The First Night and Morning + + +It was a strange new feeling that took possession of the boys as they +saw Mr. Raften go, and when his step actually died away on the blazed +trail they felt that they were really and truly alone in the woods and +camping out. To Yan it was the realization of many dreams, and the +weirdness of it was helped by the remembrance of the tall old man he +had seen watching them from behind the trees. He made an excuse to +wander out there, but of course Caleb was gone. + +"Fire up," Sam presently called out. Yan was the chief expert with the +rubbing-sticks, and within a minute or two he had the fire going in +the middle of the teepee and Sam set about preparing the evening meal. +This was supposed to be Buffalo meat and Prairie roots (beef and +potatoes). It was eaten rather quietly, and then the boys sat down on +the opposite sides of the fire. The conversation dragged, then died +a natural death; each was busy with his thoughts, and there was, +moreover, an impressive and repressive something or other all around +them. Not a stillness, for there were many sounds, but beyond those +a sort of voiceless background that showed up all the myriad voices. +Some of these were evidently Bird, some Insect, and a few were +recognized as Tree-frog notes. In the near stream were sounds of +splashing or a little plunge. + +"Must be Mushrat," whispered Sam to the unspoken query of his friend. + +A loud, far "Oho-oho-oho" was familiar to both as the cry of the +Horned Owl, but a strange long wail rang out from the trees overhead. + +"What's that?" + +"Don't know," was all they whispered, and both felt very +uncomfortable. The solemnity and mystery of the night was on them +and weighing more heavily with the waning light. The feeling was +oppressive. Neither had courage enough to propose going to the house +or their camping would have ended. Sam arose and stirred the fire, +looked around for more wood, and, seeing none, he grumbled (to +himself) and stepped outside in the darkness to find some. It was not +till long afterward that he admitted having had to _dare_ himself +to step out into the darkness. He brought in some sticks and fastened +the door as tightly as possible. The blazing fire in the teepee was +cheering again. The boys perhaps did not realize that there was +actually a tinge of homesickness in their mood, yet both were thinking +of the comfortable circle at the house. The blazing fire smoked a +little, and Sam said: + +"Kin you fix that to draw? You know more about it 'an me." + +Yan now forced himself to step outside. The wind was rising and had +changed. He swung the smoke poles till the vent was quartering down, +then hoarsely whispered, "How's that?" + +"That's better," was the reply in a similar tone, though there was no +obvious difference yet. + +He went inside with nervous haste and fastened up the entrance. + +"Let's make a good fire and go to bed." + +So they turned in after partly undressing, but not to sleep for hours. +Yan in particular was in a state of nervous excitement. His heart had +beaten violently when he went out that time, and even now that mysterious +dread was on him. The fire was the one comfortable thing. He dozed off, +but started up several times at some slight sound. Once it was a peculiar +"_Tick, tick, scr-a-a-a-a-pe, lick-scra-a-a-a-a-a-pe,_" down the teepee +over his head. "_A Bear_" was his first notion, but on second thoughts +he decided it was only a leaf sliding down the canvas. Later he was +roused by a "_Scratch, scratch, scratch_" close to him. He listened +silently for some time. This was no leaf; it was an _animal!_ Yes, +surely--it was a Mouse. He slapped the canvas violently and "hissed" +till it went away, but as he listened he heard again that peculiar +wail in the tree-tops. It almost made his hair sit up. He reached out +and poked the fire together into a blaze. All was still and in time he +dozed off. Once more he was wide awake in a flash and saw Sam sitting +up in bed listening. + +[Illustration: "Where's the axe?"] + +"What is it, Sam?" he whispered. + +"I dunno. Where's the axe?" + +"Right here." + +"Let me have it on my side. You kin have the hatchet." + +But they dropped off at last and slept soundly till the sun was strong +on the canvas and filling the teepee with a blaze of transmitted +light. + +"Woodpecker! Woodpecker! Get up! Get up! Hi-e-yo! Hi-e-yo! +Double-u-double-o-d-bang-fizz-whackety-whack-y-r-chuck- +brrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-Woodpecker," shouted Yan to his sleepy chum, quoting +a phrase that Sam when a child had been taught as the true spelling of +his nickname. + +Sam woke slowly, but knowing perfectly where he was, and drawled: + +"Get up yourself. You're cook to-day, an' I'll take my breakfast in +bed. Seems like my knee is broke out again." + +"Oh, get up, and let's have a swim before breakfast." + +"No, thank you, I'm too busy just now; 'sides, it's both cold and wet +in that pond, this time o' day." + +The morning was fresh and bright; many birds were singing, although it +was July, a Red-eyed Vireo and a Robin were in full song; and as Yan +rose to get the breakfast he wondered why he had been haunted by such +strange feelings the night before. It was incomprehensible now. He +wished that appalling wail in the tree-tops would sound again, so he +might trace it home. + +There still were some live coals in the ashes, and in a few minutes he +had a blazing fire, with the pot boiling for coffee, and the bacon in +the fryer singing sweetest music for the hungry. + +Sam lay on his back watching his companion and making critical +remarks. + +"You may be an A1 cook--at least, I hope you are, but you don't know +much about fire-wood," said he. "Now look at that," as one huge spark +after another exploded from the fire and dropped on the bed and the +teepee cover. + +"How can I help it?" + +"I'll bet Da's best cow against your jack-knife you got some Ellum or +Hemlock in that fire." + +"Well, I have," Yan admitted, with an air of surrender. + +"My son," said the Great Chief Woodpecker, "no sparking allowed in the +teepee. Beech, Maple, Hickory or Ash never spark. Pine knots an' roots +don't, but they make smoke like--like--oh--you know. Hemlock, Ellum, +Chestnut, Spruce and Cedar is public sparkers, an' not fit for dacint +teepee sassiety. Big Injun heap hate noisy, crackling fire. Enemy hear +that, an'--an'--it burns his bedclothes." + +"All right, Grandpa," and the cook made a mental note, then added in +tones of deadly menace, "You get up now, do you understand!" and he +picked up a bucket of water. + +"That might scare the Great Chief Woodpecker if the Great Chief Cook +had a separate bed, but now he smiles kind o' scornful," was all the +satisfaction he got. Then seeing that breakfast really was ready, +Sam scrambled out a few minutes later. The coffee acted like an +elixir--their spirits rose, and before the meal was ended it would +have been hard to find two more hilarious and enthusiastic campers. +Even the vague terrors of the night were now sources of amusement. + + + + +III + +A Crippled Warrior and the Mud Albums + + +"Say, Sam; what about Guy? Do we want him?" + +"Well, it's just like this. If it was at school or any other place I +wouldn't be bothered with the dirty little cuss, but out in the woods +like this one feels kind o' friendly, an' three's better than two. +Besides, he has been admitted to the Tribe already." + +"Yes, that's what I say. Let's give him a _yell_." + +So the boys uttered a long yell, produced by alternating the voice +between a high falsetto and a natural tone. This was the "yell," and +had never failed to call Guy forth to join them unless he had some +chore on hand and his "Paw" was too near to prevent his renegading to +the Indians. He soon appeared waving a branch, the established signal +that he came as a friend. + +He came very slowly, however, and the boys saw that he limped +frightfully, helping himself along with a stick. He was barefoot, as +usual, but his left foot was swaddled in a bundle of rags. + +"Hello, Sappy; what happened? Out to Wounded Knee River?" + +"Nope. Struck luck. Paw was bound I'd ride the Horse with the scuffler +all day, but he gee'd too short an' I arranged to tumble off'n him, +an' Paw cuffled me foot some. Law! how I did holler! You should 'a' +heard me." + +[Illustration: "He soon appeared, waving a branch."] + +"Bet we did," said Sam. "When was it?" + +"Yesterday about four." + +"Exactly. We heard an awful screech and Yan says, says he, 'There's +the afternoon train at Kelly's Crossing, but ain't she late?' + +"'Train!' says I. 'Pooh. I'll bet that's Guy Burns getting a new +licking.'" + +"Guess I'll well up now," said War Chief Sapwood, so stripped his +foot, revealing a scratch that would not have cost a thought had he +got it playing ball. He laid the rags away carefully and with them +every trace of the limp, then entered heartily into camp life. + +The vast advantage of being astir early now was seen. There were +Squirrels in every other tree, there were birds on every side, and +when they ran to the pond a wild Duck spattered over the surface and +whistled out of sight. + +"What you got?" called Sam, as he saw Yan bending eagerly over +something down by the pond. + +Yan did not answer, and so Sam went over and saw him studying out a +mark in the mud. He was trying to draw it in his note-book. + +"What is it?" repeated Sam. + +"Don't know. Too stubby for a Muskrat, too much claw for a Cat, too +small for a Coon, too many toes for a Mink." + +"I'll bet it's a Whangerdoodle." + +Yan merely chuckled in answer to this. + +"Don't you laugh," said the Woodpecker, solemnly, "You'd be more apt +to cry if you seen one walk into the teepee blowing the whistle at the +end of his tail. Then it'd be, 'Oh, Sam, where's the axe?'" + +"Tell you what I do believe it is," said Yan, not noticing this +terrifying description; "it's a Skunk." + +"Little Beaver, my son! I thought I would tell you, then I sez to +meself, 'No; it's better for him to find out by his lone. Nothing like +a struggle in early life to develop the stuff in a man. It don't do to +help him too much,' sez I, an' so I didn't." + +Here Sam condescendingly patted the Second War Chief on the head and +nodded approvingly. Of course he did not know as much about the track +as Yan did, but he prattled on: + +"Little Beaver! you're a heap struck on tracks--Ugh--good! You kin +tell by them everything that passes in the night. Wagh! Bully! You're +likely to be the naturalist of our Tribe. But you ain't got gumption. +Now, in this yer hunting-ground of our Tribe there is only one place +where you can see a track, an' that is that same mud-bank; all the +rest is hard or grassy. Now, what I'd do if I was a Track-a-mist, I'd +give the critters lots o' chance to leave tracks. I'd fix it all +round with places so nothing could come or go 'thout givin' us his +impressions of the trip. I'd have one on each end of the trail coming +in, an' one on each side of the creek where it comes in an' goes out." + +"Well, Sam, you have a pretty level head. I wonder I didn't think of +that myself." + +"My son, the Great Chief does the thinking. It's the rabble--that's +you and Sappy--that does the work." + +But all the same he set about it at once with Yan, Sappy following +with a _slight limp now_. They removed the sticks and rubbish for +twenty feet of the trail at each end and sprinkled this with three +or four inches of fine black loam. They cleared off the bank of the +stream at four places, one at each side where it entered the woods, +and one at each side where it went into the Burns's Bush. + +"Now," said Sam, "there's what I call visitors' albums like the one +that Phil Leary's nine fatties started when they got their brick house +and their swelled heads, so every one that came in could write their +names an' something about 'this happy, happy, ne'er-to-be-forgotten +visit'--them as could write. Reckon that's where our visitors get the +start, for all of ours kin write that has feet." + +"Wonder why I didn't think o' that," said Yan, again and again. "But +there's one thing you forget," he said. "We want one around the +teepee." + +This was easily made, as the ground was smooth and bare there, and +Sappy forgot his limp and helped to carry ashes and sand from the +fire-hole. Then planting his broad feet down in the dust, with many +snickers, he left some very interesting tracks. + +"I call that a bare track" said Sam. + +"Go ahead and draw it," giggled Sappy + +"Why not?" and Yan got out his book. + +"Bet you can't make it life-size," and Sam glanced from the little +note-book to the vast imprint. + +After it was drawn, Sam said, "Guess I'll peel off and show you a +human track." He soon gave an impression of his foot for the artist, +and later Yan added his own; the three were wholly different. + +"Seems to me it would be about right, if you had the ways the toes +pointed and the distance apart to show how long the legs wuz." + +Again Sam had given Yan a good idea. From that time he noted these two +points and made his records much better. + +"Air you fellers roostin' here now?" said Sappy in surprise, as he +noted the bed as well as the pots and pans. + +"Yep." + +"Well, I wanter, too. If I kin git hol' o' Maw 'thout Paw, it'll be +O.K." + +"You let on we don't want you and Paw'll let you come. Tell him +Ole Man Raften ordered you off the place an' he'll fetch you here +himself." + +"I guess there's room enough in that bed fur three," remarked the +Third War Chief. + +"Well, I guess there ain't," said Woodpecker. "Not when the third one +won first prize for being the dirtiest boy in school. You can get +stuff an' make your own bed, across there on the other side the fire." + +"Don't know how." + +"We'll show you, only you'll have to go home for blankets an' grub." + +The boys soon cut a Fir-bough bed, but Guy put off going home for the +blankets as long as he could. He knew and they suspected that there +was no chance of his rejoining them again that day. So after sundown +he replaced his foot-rags and limped down the trail homeward, saying, +"I'll be back in a few minutes," and the boys knew perfectly well that +he would not. + +The evening meal was over; they had sat around wondering if the night +would repeat its terrors. An Owl "Hoo-hoo-ed" in the trees. There was +a pleasing romance in the sound. The boys kept up the fire till about +ten, then retired, determined that they would not be scared this time. +They were barely off to sleep when the most awful outcry arose in the +near woods, like "a Wolf with a sore throat," then the yells of a +human being in distress. Again the boys sat up in fright. There was a +scuffling outside--a loud and terrified "Hi--hi--hi--Sam!" Then an +attack was made on the door. It was torn open, and in tumbled Guy. He +was badly frightened; but when the fire was lighted and he calmed down +a little he confessed that Paw had sent him to bed, but when all was +still he had slipped out the window, carrying the bedclothes. He was +nearly back to the camp when he decided to scare the boys by letting +off a few wolfish howls, but he made himself very scary by doing it, +and when a wild answer came from the tree-tops--a hideous, blaring +screech--he lost all courage, dropped the bedding, and ran toward the +teepee yelling for help. + +The boys took torches presently and went nervously in search of the +missing blankets. Guy's bed was made and in an hour they were once +more asleep. + +In the morning Sam was up and out first. From the home trail he +suddenly called: + +"Yan, come here." + +"Do you mean me?" said Little Beaver, with haughty dignity. + +"Yep, Great Chief; git a move on you. Hustle out here. Made a find. Do +you see who was visiting us last night while we slept?" and he pointed +to the "album" on the inway. "I hain't shined them shoes every week +with soot off the bottom of the pot without knowin' that one pair of +'em was wore by Ma an' one of 'em by Da. But let's see how far they +come. Why, I orter looked round the teepee before tramplin' round." +They went back, and though the trails were much hidden by their own, +they found enough around the doorway to show that during the night, or +more likely late in the evening, the father and mother had paid them a +visit in secret--had inspected the camp as they slept, but finding no +one stirring and the boys breathing the deep breath of healthy sleep, +they had left them undisturbed. + +"Say, boys--I mean Great Chiefs--what we want in camp is a Dog, or one +of these nights some one will steal our teeth out o' our heads an' we +won't know a thing till they come back for the gums. All Injun camps +have Dogs, anyway." + +The next morning the Third War Chief was ordered out by the Council, +first to wash himself clean, then to act as cook for the day. He +grumbled as he washed, that "'Twan't no good--he'd be all dirty again +in two minutes," which was not far from the truth. But he went at the +cooking with enthusiasm, which lasted nearly an hour. After this he +did not see any fun in it, and for once he, as well as the others, +began to realize how much was done for them at home. At noon Sappy set +out nothing but dirty dishes, and explained that so long as each got +his own it was all right. His foot was very troublesome at meal time +also. He said it was the moving round when he was hurrying that made +it so hard to bear, but in their expedition with bows and arrows later +on he found complete relief. + +"Say, look at the Red-bird," he shouted, as a Tanager flitted onto a +low branch and blazed in the sun. "Bet I hit him first shot!" and he +drew an arrow. + +"Here you, Saphead," said Sam, "quit that shooting at little birds. +It's bad medicine. It's against the rules; it brings bad luck--it +brings awful bad luck. I tell you there ain't no worse luck than Da's +raw-hide--that I know." + +"Why, what's the good o' playin' Injun if we can't shoot a blame +thing?" protested Sappy. + +"You kin shoot Crows an' Jays if you like, an' Woodchucks, too." + +"I know where there's a Woodchuck as big as a Bear." + +"Ah! What size Bear?" + +"Well, it is. You kin laugh all you want to. He has a den in our +clover field, an' he made it so big that the mower dropped in an' +throwed Paw as far as from here to the crick." + +"An' the horses, how did they get out?" + +"Well! It broke the machine, an' you should have heard Paw swear. My! +but he was a socker. Paw offered me a quarter if I'd kill the old +whaler. I borrowed a steel trap an' set it in the hole, but he'd dig +out under it an' round it every time. I'll bet there ain't anything +smarter'n an old Woodchuck." + +"Is he there yet?" asked War Chief No. 2. + +"You just bet he is. Why, he has half an acre of clover all eat up." + +"Let's try to get him," said Yan. "Can we find him?" + +"Well, I should say so. I never come by but I see the old feller. He's +so big he looks like a calf, an' so old an' wicked he's gray-headed." + +"Let's have a shot at him," suggested the Woodpecker. "He's fair game. +Maybe your Paw'll give us a quarter each if we kill him." + +Guy snickered. "Guess you don't know my Paw," then he giggled +bubblously through his nose again. + +Arrived at the edge of the clover, Sam asked, "Where's your +Woodchuck?" + +"Right in there." + +"I don't see him." + +"Well, he's always here." + +"Not now, you bet." + +"Well, this is the very first time I ever came here and didn't see +him. Oh, I tell you, he's a fright. I'll bet he's a blame sight +bigger'n that stump." + +"Well, here's his track, anyway," said Woodpecker, pointing to some +tracks he had just made unseen with his own broad palm. + +"Now," said Sappy, in triumph. "Ain't he an old socker?" + +"Sure enough. You ain't missed any cows lately, have you? Wonder you +ain't scared to live anyways near!" + + + + +IV + +A "Massacree" of Palefaces + + +"Say, fellers, I know where there's a stavin' Birch tree--do you want +any bark?" + +"Yes, I want some," said Little Beaver. + +"But hold on; I guess we better not, coz it's right on the edge o' our +bush, an' Paw's still at the turnips." + +"Now if you want a real war party," said the Head Chief, "let's +massacree the Paleface settlement up the crick and get some milk. +We're just out, and I'd like to see if the place has changed any." + +So the boys hid their bows and arrows and headdresses, and, forgetting +to take a pail, they followed in Indian file the blazed trail, +carefully turning in their toes as they went and pointing silently to +the track, making signs of great danger. First they crawled up, under +cover of one of the fences, to the barn. The doors were open and men +working at something. A pig wandered in from the barnyard. Then the +boys heard a sudden scuffle, and a squeal from the pig as it scrambled +out again, and Raften's voice: "Consarn them pigs! Them boys ought to +be here to herd them." This was sufficiently alarming to scare the +Warriors off in great haste. They hid in the huge root-cellar and +there held a council of war. + +"Here, Great Chiefs of Sanger," said Yan, "behold I take three straws. +That long one is for the Great Woodpecker, the middle size is for +Little Beaver, and the short thick one with the bump on the end and +a crack on top is Sappy. Now I will stack them up in a bunch and let +them fall, then whichever way they point we must go, for this is Big +Medicine." + +So the straws fell. Sam's straw pointed nearly to the house, Yan's a +little to the south of the house, and Guy's right back home. + +"Aha, Sappy, you got to go home; the straw says so." + +"I ain't goin' to believe no such foolishness." + +"It's awful unlucky to go against it." + +"I don't care, I ain't goin' back," said Guy doggedly. + +"Well, my straw says go to the house; that means go scouting for milk, +I reckon." + +Yan's straw pointed toward the garden, and Guy's to the residence and +grounds of "J.G. Burns, Esq." + +"I don't care," said Sappy, "I ain't goin'. I am goin' after some +of them cherries in your orchard, an' 'twon't be the first time, +neither." + +"We kin meet by the Basswood at the foot of the lane with whatever +we get," said the First War Chief, as he sneaked into the bushes and +crawled through the snake fence and among the nettles and manure +heaps on the north side of the barnyard till he reached the woodshed +adjoining the house. He knew where the men were, and he could guess +where his mother was, but he was worried about the Dog. Old Cap might +be on the front doorstep, or he might be prowling at just the wrong +place for the Injun plan. The woodshed butted on the end of the +kitchen. The milk was kept in the cellar, and one window of the cellar +opened into a dark corner of the woodshed. This was easily raised, and +Sam scrambled down into the cool damp cellar. Long rows of milk pans +were in sight on the shelves. He lifted the cover of the one he knew +to be the last put there and drank a deep, long draught with his mouth +down to it, then licked the cream from his lips and remembered that he +had come without a pail. But he knew where to get one. He went +gently up the stairs, avoiding steps Nos. 1 and 7 because they were +"creakers," as he found out long ago, when he used to 'hook' maple +sugar from the other side of the house. The door at the top was closed +and buttoned, but he put his jack-knife blade through the crack and +turned the button. After listening awhile and hearing no sound in the +kitchen, he gently opened the squeaky old door. There was no one to +be seen but the baby, sound asleep in her cradle. The outer door was +open, but no Dog lying on the step as usual. Over the kitchen was a +garret entered by a trap-door and a ladder. The ladder was up and the +trap-door open, but all was still. Sam stood over the baby, grunted, +"Ugh, Paleface papoose," raised his hand as if wielding a war club, +aimed a deadly blow at the sleeping cherub, then stooped and kissed +her rosy mouth so lightly that her pink fists went up to rub it at +once. He now went to the pantry, took a large pie and a tin pail, +then down into the cellar again. He, at first, merely closed the door +behind him and was leaving it so, but remembered that Minnie might +awaken and toddle around till she might toddle into the cellar, +therefore he turned the button so that just a corner showed over the +crack, closed the door and worked with his knife blade on that corner +till the cellar was made as safe as before. He now escaped with his +pie and pail. + +Meanwhile his mother's smiling face beamed out of the dark loft. Then +she came down the ladder. She had seen him come and enter the cellar, +by chance she was in the loft when he reached the kitchen, but she had +kept quiet to enjoy the joke. + +Next time the Woodpecker went to the cellar he found a paper with this +on it: "_Notice_ to hostile Injuns--Next time you massacree this +settlement, bring back the pail, and don't leave the covers off the +milk pans." + +Yan had followed the fence that ran south of the house. There was +plenty of cover, but he crawled on hands and knees, going right down +on his breast when he came to places more open than the rest. In this +way he had nearly reached the garden when he heard a noise behind and, +turning, he saw Sappy. + +"Here, what are you following me for? Your straw pointed the other +way. You ain't playing fair." + +"Well, I don't care, I ain't going home. _You_ fixed it up so my +straw would point that way. It ain't fair, an' I won't do it." + +"You got no right following me." + +"I ain't following you, but you keep going just the place I want to +go. It's you following me, on'y keepin' ahead. I told you I was after +cherries." + +"Well, the cherries are that way and I'm going this way, and I don't +want you along." + +"You couldn't get me if you wanted me." + +"Erh----" + +"Erh----" + +So Sappy went cherryward and Yan waited awhile, then crawled toward +the fruit garden. After twenty or thirty yards more, he saw a gleam of +red, then under it a bright yellow eye glaring at him. He had chanced +on a hen sitting on her nest. He came nearer, she took alarm and ran +away, not clucking, but cackling loudly. There were a dozen eggs of +two different styles, all bright and clean, and the hen's comb was +bright red. Yan knew hens. This was easy to read: Two stray hens +laying in one nest, and neither of them sitting yet. + +"So ho! Straws show which way the hens go." + +He gathered up the eggs into his hat and crawled back toward the tree +where all had to meet. + +But before he had gone far he heard a loud barking, then yells for +help, and turned in time to see Guy scramble up a tree while Cap, the +old Collie, barked savagely at him from below. Now that he was in no +danger Sappy had the sense to keep quiet. Yan came back as quickly +as possible. The Dog at once recognized and obeyed _him_, but +doubtless was much puzzled to make out why he should be pelted back to +the house when he had so nobly done his duty by the orchard. + +"Now, you see, maybe next time you'll do what the medicine straw tells +you. Only for me you'd been caught and fed to the pigs, sure." + +"Only for you I wouldn't have come. I wasn't scared of your old Dog, +anyway. Just in about two minutes more I was comin' down to kick the +stuffin' out o' him myself." + +"Perhaps you'd like to go back and do it now. I'll soon call him." + +"Oh, I hain't got time now, but some other time--Let's find Sam." + +So they foregathered at the tree, and laden with their spoils, they +returned gloriously to camp. + + + + +V + +The Deer Hunt + + +That evening they had a feast and turned in to sleep at the usual +hour. The night passed without special alarm. Once about daylight +Sappy called them, saying he believed there was a Bear outside, but +he had a trick of grinding his teeth in his sleep, and the other boys +told him that was the Bear he heard. + +Yan went around to the mud albums and got some things he could +not make out and a new mark that gave him a sensation. He drew it +carefully. It was evidently the print of a small sharp hoof. This was +what he had hungered for so long. He shouted, "Sam--Sam--Sapwood, come +here; here's a _Deer track_." + +The boys shouted back, "Ah, what you givin' us now!" "Call off your +Dog!" and so forth. + +But Yan persisted. The boys were so sure it was a trick that they +would not go for some time, then the sun had risen high, shining +straight down on the track instead of across, so it became very dim. +Soon the winds, the birds and the boys themselves helped to wipe it +out. But Yan had his drawing, and persisted in spite of the teasing +that it was true. + +At length Guy said aside to Sam: "Seems to me a feller that hunts +tracks so terrible serious ought to see the critter _some time_. +'Tain't right to let him go on sufferin'. _I_ think he ought to +see that Deer. We ought to help him." Here he winked a volley or two +and made signs for Sam to take Yan away. + +This was easily done. + +"Let's see if your Deer went out by the lower mud album." So they +walked down that way, while Guy got an old piece of sacking, stuffed +it with grass, and, hastily tying it in the form of a Deer's head, +stuck it on a stick. He put in two flat pieces of wood for ears, took +charcoal and made two black spots for eyes and one for a nose, then +around each he drew a ring of blue clay from the bed of the brook. +This soon dried and became white. Guy now set up this head in the +bushes, and when all was ready he ran swiftly and silently through the +wood to find Sam and Yan. He beckoned vigorously and called under +his voice: "Sam--Yan--a Deer! Here's that there Deer that made them +tracks, I believe." + +Guy would have failed to convince Yan if Sam had not looked so much +interested. They ran back to the teepee, got their bows and arrows, +then, guided by Guy, who, however, kept back, they crawled to where he +had seen the Deer. + +"There--there, now, ain't he a Deer? There--see him move!" + +Yan's first feeling was a most exquisite thrill of pleasure. It was +like the uplift of joy he had had the time he got his book, but was +stronger. The savage impulse to kill came quickly, and his bow was in +his hand, but he hesitated. + +"Shoot! Shoot!" said Sam and Guy. + +Yan wondered why _they_ did not shoot. He turned, and in spite of +his agitation he saw that they were making fun of him. He glanced at +the Deer again, moved up a little closer and saw the trick. + +Then they hooted aloud. Yan was a little crestfallen. Oh, it had been +such an exquisite feeling! The drop was long and hard, but he rallied +quickly. + +"I'll shoot your Deer for you," he said, and sent an arrow close under +it. + +"Well, I kin beat that," and Sam and Guy both fired. Sam's arrow stuck +in the Deer's nose. At that he gave a yell; then all shot till the +head was stuck full of arrows, and they returned to the teepee to +get dinner. They were still chaffing Yan about the Deer when he said +slowly to Guy: + +"Generally you are not so smart as you think you are, but this time +you're smarter. You've given me a notion." + +So after dinner he got a sack about three feet long and stuffed it +full of dry grass; then he made a small sack about two and a half feet +long and six inches thick, but with an elbow in it and pointed at one +end. This he also stuffed with hay and sewed with a bone needle to the +big sack. Next he cut four sticks of soft pine for legs and put them +into the four corners of the big sack, wrapping them with bits of +sacking to be like the rest. Then he cut two ears out of flat sticks; +painted black eyes and nose with a ring of white around each, just as +Sappy had done, but finally added a black spot on each side of the +body, and around that a broad gray hand. Now he had completed what +every one could see was meant for a Deer. + +The other boys helped a little, but not did cease to chaff him. + +"Who's to be fooled this time?" asked Guy. + +"You," was the answer. + +"I'll bet you'll get buck fever the first time you come across it," +chuckled the Head Chief. + +"Maybe I will, but you'll all have a chance. Now you fellers stay here +and I'll hide the Deer. Wait till I come back." + +So Yan ran off northward with the dummy, then swung around to the east +and hid it at a place quite out of the line that he first took. He +returned nearly to where he came out, shouting "Ready!" + +Then the hunters sallied forth fully armed, and Yan explained: "First +to find it counts ten and has first shot. If he misses, next one can +walk up five steps and shoot; if he misses, next walks five steps +more, and so on until the Deer is hit. Then all the shooting must be +done from the place where that arrow was fired. A shot in the heart +counts ten; in the gray counts five; that's a body wound--and a hit +outside of that counts one--that's a scratch. If the Deer gets away +without a shot in the heart, then I count twenty-five, and the first +one to find it is Deer for next hunt--twelve shots each is the limit." + +The two hunters searched about for a long time. Sam made disparaging +remarks about the trail this Deer _did not_ leave, and Guy +sneaked and peaked in every thicket. + +Sappy was not an athlete nor an intellectual giant, but his little +piggy eyes were wonderfully sharp and clear. + +"I see him," he yelled presently, and pointed out the place +seventy-five yards away where he saw one ear and part of the head. + +"Tally ten for Sappy," and Yan marked it down. + +Guy was filled with pride at his success. He made elaborate +preparation to shoot, remarking, "I could 'a' seen it twicet as +far--if--if--if--it was--if I had a fair chance." + +He drew his bow and left fly. The arrow went little more than half +way. So Sam remarked, "Five steps up I kin go. It don't say nothing +about how long the steps?" + +"No." + +"Well, here goes," and he began the most wonderful Kangaroo hops that +he could do. He covered about thirty feet in those five steps, and by +swerving a little aside he got a good view of the Deer. He was now +less than sixty-five yards away. He fired and missed. Now Guy had the +right to walk up five steps. He also missed. Finally at thirty yards +Sam sent an arrow close past a tree, deep in the Deer's gray flank. + +"Bully shot! Body wound! Count five for the Great War Chief. All +shooting from this spot now," said Yan, "and I don't know why I +shouldn't shoot as well as the others." + +"Coz you're the Deer and that'd be suicide," was Sam's objection. "But +it's all right. You won't hit." + +The objection was not sustained, and Yan tried his luck also. Two or +three shots in the brown of the Deer's haunch, three or four into the +tree that stood half way between, but nearly in line, a shot or two +into the nose, then "Hooray!" a shot from Guy right into the Deer's +heart put an end to the chase. Now they went up to draw and count the +arrows. + +Guy was ahead with a heart shot, ten, a body wound, five, and a +scratch, one, that's sixteen, with ten more for finding it--twenty-six +points. Sam followed with two body wounds and two scratches--twelve +points, and Yan one body wound and five scratches--ten points. The +Deer looked like an old Porcupine when they came up to it, and Guy, +bursting with triumph, looked like a young Emperor. + +"I tell you it takes me to larn you fellers to Deer hunt. I'll bet +I'll hit him in the heart first thing next time." + +"I'll bet you won't, coz you'll be Deer and can't shoot till we both +have." + +Guy thought this the finest game he had ever played. He pranced away +with the dummy on his back, scheming as he went to make a puzzle for +the others. He hid the Deer in a dense thicket east of the camp, then +sneaked around to the west of the camp and yelled "Ready!" They had a +long, tedious search and had to give it up. + +"Now what to do? Who counts?" asked the Woodpecker. + +"When Deer escapes it counts twenty-five," replied the inventer of the +game; and again Guy was ahead. + +"This is the bulliest game I ever seen" was his ecstatic remark. + +"Seems to me there's something wrong; that Deer ought to have a +trail." + +"That's so," assented Yan. "Wonder if he couldn't drag an old root!" + +"If there was snow it'd be easy." + +"I'll tell you, Sam; we'll tear up paper and leave a paper trail." + +"Now you're talking." So all ran to camp. Every available scrap of +wrapping paper was torn up small and put in a "scent bag." + +Since no one found the Deer last time, Guy had the right to hide it +again. + +He made a very crooked trail and a very careful hide, so that the boys +nearly walked onto the Deer before they saw it about fifteen yards +away. Sam scored ten for the find. He fired and missed. Yan now +stepped up his five paces and fired so hastily that he also missed. +Guy now had a shot at it at five yards, and, of course, hit the Deer +in the heart. This succession of triumphs swelled his head nearly to +the bursting point, and his boasting passed all bounds. But it now +became clear that there must be a limit to the stepping up. So the new +rule was made, "No stepping up nearer than fifteen paces." + +The game grew as they followed it. Its resemblance to real hunting was +very marked. The boys found that they could follow the trail, or sweep +the woods with their eyes as they pleased, and find the game, but the +wisest way was a combination. Yan was too much for the trail, Sam +too much for the general lookout, but Guy seemed always in luck. His +little piglike eyes took in everything, and here at length he found a +department in which he could lead. It looked as though little pig-eyed +Guy was really cut out for a hunter. He made a number of very clever +hidings of the Deer. Once he led the trail to the pond, then, across, +and right opposite he put the Deer in full view, so that they saw it +at once in the open; they were obliged either to shoot across the +pond, or step farther away round the edge, or step into the deep +water, and again Guy scored. It was found necessary to bar hiding the +Deer on a ridge and among stones, because in one case arrows which +missed were lost in the bushes and in the other they were broken. + +They played this game so much that they soon found a new difficulty. +The woods were full of paper trails, and there was no means of +deciding which was the old and which the new. This threatened to end +the fun altogether. But Yan hit on the device of a different colour +of paper. This gave them a fresh start, but their supply was limited. +There was paper everywhere in the woods now, and it looked as though +the game was going to kill itself, when old Caleb came to pay them a +visit. He always happened round as though it was an accident, but the +boys were glad to see him, as he usually gave some help. + +"Ye got some game, I see," and the old man's eye twinkled as he noted +the dummy, now doing target duty on the forty-yard range. "Looks like +the real thing. Purty good--purty good." He chuckled as he learned +about the Deer hunt, and a sharp observer might have discerned a +slight increase of interest when he found that it was not Sam Raften +that was the "crack" hunter. + +"Good fur you, Guy Burns. Me an' your Paw hev hunted Deer together on +this very crik many a time." + +When he learned the difficulty about the scent, he said "Hm," and +puffed at his pipe for awhile in silence. Then at length: + +"Say, Yan, why don't you and Guy get a bag o' wheat or Injun corn for +scent: that's better than paper, an' what ye lay to-day is all clared +up by the birds and Squirrels by to-morrow." + +"Bully!" shouted Sam. (He had not been addressed at all, but he was +not thin-skinned.) Within ten minutes he had organized another "White +massacree"--that is, a raid on the home barn, and in half an hour he +returned with a peck of corn. + +"Now, lemme be Deer," said Caleb. "Give me five minutes' start, then +follow as fast as ye like. I'll show ye what a real Deer does." + +He strode away bearing the dummy, and in five minutes as they set out +on the trail he came striding back again. Oh, but that seemed a long +run. The boys followed the golden corn trail--a grain every ten feet +was about all they needed now, they were so expert. It was a straight +run for a time, then it circled back till it nearly cut itself again +(at X, page 298). The boys thought it did so, and claimed the right to +know, as on a real Deer trail you could tell. So Caleb said, "No, it +don't cut the old trail." Where, then, did it go? After beating about, +Sam said that the trail looked powerful heavy, like it might be +double. + +"Bet I know," said Guy. "He's doubled back," which was exactly what he +did do, though Caleb gave no sign. Yan looked back on the trail and +found where the new one had forked. Guy gave no heed to the ground +once he knew the general directions. He ran ahead (toward Y), so did +Sam, but Guy glanced back to Yan on the trail to make sure of the +line. + +They had not gone far beyond the nearest bushes before Yan found +another quirk in the trail. It doubled back at Z. He unravelled the +double, glanced around, and at O he plainly saw the Deer lying on +its side in the grass. He let off a triumphant yell, "Yi, yi, yi, +_Deer_!" and the others came running back just in time to see Yan +send an arrow straight into its heart. + + + + +VI + +WAR BONNET, TEEPEE AND COUPS + + +Forty yards and first shot. Well, that's what the Injuns would call a +'_grand coup_,' and Caleb's face wore the same pleasant look as +when he made the fire with rubbing-sticks. + +"What's a _grand coup?_" asked Little Beaver. + +"Oh, I suppose it's a big deed. The Injuns call a great feat a +'_coup_,' an' an extra big one a '_grand coup_.' Sounds like +French, an' maybe 'tis, but the Injuns says it. They had a regular way +of counting their _coup_, and for each they had the right to an +Eagle feather in their bonnet, with a red tuft of hair on the end for +the extra good ones. At least, they used to. I reckon now they're +forgetting it all, and any buck Injun wears just any feather he can +steal and stick in his head." + +"What do you think of our head-dresses?" Yan ventured. + +'Hm! You ain't never seen a real one or you wouldn't go at them that +way at all. First place, the feathers should all be white with black +tips, an' fastened not solid like that, but loose on a cap of soft +leather. Each feather, you see, has a leather loop lashed on the quill +end for a lace to run through and hold it to the cap, an' then a +string running through the middle of each feather to hold it--just so. +Then there are ways of marking each feather to show how it was got. +I mind once I was out on a war party with a lot of Santees--that's a +brand of Sioux--an' we done a lot o' sneaking an' stealing an' scalped +some of the enemy. Then we set out for home, and when we was still +about thirty miles away we sent on an Injun telegram of good luck. The +leader of our crowd set fire to the grass after he had sent two men +half a mile away on each side to do the same thing, an' up went three +big smokes. There is always some one watching round an Injun village, +an' you bet when they seen them three smokes they knowed that we wuz +a-coming back with scalps. + +"The hull Council come out to meet us, but not too reckless, coz this +might have been the trick of enemies to surprise them. + +"Well, when we got there, maybe there wasn't a racket. You see, we +didn't lose a man, and we brung in a hundred horses and seven scalps. +Our leader never said a word to the crowd, but went right up to the +Council teepee. He walked in--we followed. There was the Head Chief +an' all the Council settin' smoking. Our leader give the '_How_, +an' then we all '_Howed_.' Then we sat an' smoked, an' the Chief +called on our leader for an account of the little trip. He stood up +an' made a speech. + +"'Great Chief and Council of my Tribe,' says he. 'After we left the +village and the men had purified themselves, we travelled seven days +and came to the Little Muddy River. There we found the track of a +travelling band of Arapaho. In two days we found their camp, but +they were too strong for us, so we hid till night; then I went alone +into their camp and found that some of them were going off on a hunt +next day. As I left I met a lone warrior coming in. I killed him +with my knife. For that I claim a _coup_; and I scalped him--for +that I claim another _coup_; an' before I killed him I slapped his +face with my hand--for this I claim a _grand coup_; and I brought +his horse away with me--for that I claim another _coup_. Is it not +so,' sez he, turning to us, and we all yelled '_How! How! How!_' +For this fellow, 'Whooping Crane,' was awful good stuff. Then the +Council agreed that he should wear three Eagle feathers, the first +for killing and scalping the enemy in his own camp--that was a _grand +coup_, and the feather had a tuft of red hair on it an' a red spot on +the web. The next feather was for slapping the feller's face first, +which, of course, made it more risky. This Eagle feather had a red +tuft on top an' a red hand on the web; the one for stealing the horse +had a horseshoe, but no tuft, coz it wasn't counted A1. + +"Then the other Injuns made their claims, an' we all got some kind of +honours. I mind one feller was allowed to drag a Fox tail at each +heel when he danced, an' another had ten horseshoe marks on an Eagle +feather for stealing ten horses, an' I tell you them Injuns were +prouder of them feathers than a general would be of his medals." + + +[Illustration: The War Bonnet (See description below)] + + THE INDIAN WAR BONNET--HOW TO MAKE IT + + 1. The plain white Goose or Turkey feather. + + 2. The same, with tip dyed black or painted with indelible ink. + + 3. The same, showing ruff of white down lashed on with wax end. + + 4. The same, showing leather loop lashed on for the holding lace. + + 5. The same, viewed edge on. + + 6. The same, with a red flannel cover sewn and lashed on the + quill. This is a '_coup_ feather.' + + 7. The same, with a tuft of red horsehair lashed on the top to + mark a '_grand coup_' and (_a_) a thread through the + middle of the rib to hold feather in proper place. This feather is + marked with the symbol of a _grand coup_ in target shooting. + This symbol may be drawn on an oval piece of paper gummed on the + top of the feather. + + 8. The tip of a feather showing how the red horsehair tuft is + lashed on with fine waxed thread. + + 9. The groundwork of the war bonnet made of any soft leather, + (_a_) a broad band to go round the head, laced at the joint + or seam behind; (_b_) a broad tail behind as long as needed + to hold all the wearer's feathers; (_c_) two leather thongs + or straps over the top; (_d_) leather string to tie under the + chin; (_e_) the buttons, conchas or side ornaments of shells, + silver, horn or wooden discs, even small mirrors and circles + of beadwork were used, and sometimes the conchas were left out + altogether; they may have the owner's totem on them, usually a + bunch of ermine tails hung from each side of the bonnet just below + the concha. A bunch of horsehair will answer as well; (_hh_) + the holes in the leather for holding the lace of the feather; 24 + feathers are needed for the full bonnet, without the tail, so they + are put less than an inch apart; (_iii_) the lacing holes on + the tail: this is as long as the wearer's feathers call for; some + never have any tail. + + 10. Side view of the leather framework, showing a pattern + sometimes used to decorate the front. + + 11, 12 and 13. Beadwork designs for front band of bonnet; all have + white grounds. No. 11 (Arapaho) has green band at top and bottom + with red zigzag. No. 12 (Ogallala) has blue band at top and + bottom, red triangles; the concha is blue with three white bars + and is cut off from the band by a red bar. No. 13 (Sioux) has + narrow band above and broad band below blue, the triangle red, and + the two little stars blue with yellow centre. + + 14. The bases of three feathers, showing how the lace comes out + of the cap leather, through the eye or loop on the bottom of the + quill, and in again. + + 15. The completed bonnet, showing how the feathers of the crown + should spread out, also showing the thread that passes through the + middle of each feather on inner side to hold it in place; another + thread passes from the point where the two straps (_c_ in 9) + join, then down through each feather in the tail. + + The Indians now often use the crown of a soft felt hat for the + basis of a war bonnet. + + N.B. A much easier way to mark the feather is to stick on it near + the top an oval of white paper and on this draw the symbol with + waterproof ink. + + +[Illustration: Grand Coup for taking Scalp in Enemy's Camp G.C. for +slapping his face Coup for stealing his Horse] + +"My, I wish I could go out there and be with those fellows," and Yan +sighed as he compared his commonplace lot with all this romantic +splendour. + +"Guess you'd soon get sick of it. I know _I_ did," was the +answer; "forever shooting and killing, never at peace, never more than +three meals ahead of starvation and just as often three meals behind. +No, siree, no more for me." + +"I'd just like to see you start in horse-stealing for honours round +here," observed Sam, "though I know who'd get the feathers if it was +chicken stealing." + +"Say, Caleb," said Guy, who, being friendly and of the country, never +thought of calling the old man "Mr. Clark," "didn't they give feathers +for good Deer-hunting? I'll bet I could lick any of them at it if I +had a gun." + +"Didn't you hear me say first thing that that there shot o' Yan's +should score a '_grand coup_'?" + +"Oh, shucks! I kin lick Yan any time; that was just a chance shot. +I'll bet if you give feathers for Deer-hunting I'll get them all." + +"We'll take you up on that," said the oldest Chief, but the next +interrupted: + +"Say, boys, we want to play Injun properly. Let's get Mr. Clark to +show us how to make a real war bonnet. Then we'll wear only what +feathers we win." + +"Ye mean by scalping the Whites an' horse-stealing?" + +"Oh, no; there's lots of things we can do--best runner, best Deer +hunter, best swimmer, best shot with bow and arrows." + +"All right." So they set about questioning Caleb. He soon showed them +how to put a war bonnet together, using, in spite of Yan's misgivings, +the crown of an old felt hat for the ground work and white goose +quills trimmed and dyed black at the tips for Eagle feathers. But when +it came to the deeds that were to be rewarded, each one had his own +ideas. + +"If Sappy will go to the orchard and pick a peck of cherries without +old Cap gettin' _him_, I'll give him a feather with all sorts of +fixin's on it," suggested Sam. + +"Well, I'll bet you can't get a chicken out of our barn 'thout our Dog +gettin' _you_, Mr. Smarty." + +"Pooh! I ain't stealing chickens. Do you take me for a nigger? I'm a +noble Red-man and Head Chief at that, I want you to know, an' I've a +notion to collect that scalp you're wearin' now. You know it belongs +to me and Yan," and he sidled over, rolling his eye and working his +fingers in a way that upset Guy's composure. "And I tell you a feller +with one foot in the grave should have his thoughts on seriouser +things than chicken-stealing. This yere morbid cravin' for excitement +is rooinin' all the young fellers nowadays." + +Yan happened to glance at Caleb. He was gazing off at nothing, but +there was a twinkle in his eye that Yan never before saw there. + +"Let's go to the teepee. It's too hot out here. Come in, won't you, +Mr. Clark?" + +"Hm. 'Tain't much cooler in here, even if it is shady," remarked the +old Trapper. "Ye ought to lift one side of the canvas and get some +air." + +"Why, did the real Injuns do that?" + +"I should say they did. There ain't any way they didn't turn and twist +the teepee for comfort. That's what makes it so good. Ye kin live in +it forty below zero an' fifty 'bove suffocation an' still be happy. +It's the changeablest kind of a layout for livin' in. Real hot weather +the thing looks like a spider with skirts on and held high, an' I tell +you ye got to know the weather for a teepee. Many a hot night on the +plains I've been woke up by hearing 'Tap-tap-tap' all around me in the +still black night and wondered why all the squaws was working, but +they was up to drop the cover and drive all the pegs deeper, an' +within a half hour there never failed to come up a big storm. How they +knew it was a-comin' I never could tell. One old woman said a Coyote +told her, an' maybe that's true, for they do change their song for +trouble ahead; another said it was the flowers lookin' queer at +sundown, an' another had a bad dream. Maybe they're all true; it comes +o' watchin' little things." + +"Do they never get fooled?" asked Little Beaver + +'Oncet in awhile, but not near as often as a White-man would. + +"I mind once seeing an artist chap, one of them there portygraf +takers. He come out to the village with a machine an' took some of the +little teepees. Then I said, 'Why don't you get Bull-calf's squaw to +put up their big teepee? I tell you that's a howler.' So off he goes, +and after dickering awhile he got the squaw to put it up for three +dollars. You bet it was a stunner, sure--all painted red, with green +an' yaller--animals an' birds an' scalps galore. It made that +feller's eyes bug out to see it. He started in to make some +portygrafs, then was taking another by hand, so as to get the colours, +an' I bet it would have crowded him to do it, but jest when he got +a-going the old squaw yelled to the other--the Chief hed two of +them--an' lighted out to take down that there teepee. That artist he +hollered to stop, said he had hired it to stay up an' a bargain was a +bargain. But the old squaw she jest kept on a-jabberin' an' pintin' at +the west. Pretty soon they had the hull thing down and rolled up an' +that artist a-cussin' like a cow-puncher. Well, I mind it was a fine +day, but awful hot, an' before five minutes there come a little dark +cloud in the west, then in ten minutes come a-whoopin' a regular small +cyclone, an' it went through that village and wrecked all the teepees +of any size. That red one would surely have gone only for that smart +old squaw." + +[Illustration: Bull-Calf's Teepee.] + +Under Caleb's directions the breezy side of the cover was now raised a +little, and the shady side much more. This changed the teepee from a +stifling hothouse into a cool, breezy shade. + +"An' when ye want to know which way is the wind, if it's light, ye wet +your finger so, an' hold it up. The windy side feels cool at once, and +by that ye can set your smoke-flaps." + +"I want to know about war bonnets," Yan now put in. "I mean about +things to do to wear feathers--that is, things _we_ can do." + +"Ye kin have races, an' swimmin' an bownarrer shootin'. I should say +if you kin send one o' them arrers two hundred yards that would kill a +Buffalo at twenty feet. I'd think that was pretty good. Yes, I'd call +that way up." + +"What--a _grand coup?_" + +"Yes, I reckon; an' if you fell short on'y fifty yards that'd still +kill a Deer, an' we could call that a _coup_. If," continued +Caleb, "you kin hit that old gunny-sack buck plunk in the heart at +fifty yards first shot I'd call that away up; an' if you hit it at +seventy-five yards in the heart no matter how many tries, I'd call +you a shot. If you kin hit a nine-inch bull's-eye two out of three at +forty yards every time an' no fluke, you'd hold your own among Injuns +though I must say they don't go in much for shooting at a target. They +shoot at 'most anything they see in the woods. I've seen the little +copper-coloured kids shooting away at butterflies. Then they have +matches--they try who can have most arrers in the air at one time. To +have five in the air at once is considered good. It means powerful +fast work and far shooting. You got to hold a bunch handy in the left +hand fur that. The most I ever seen one man have up at once was eight. +That was reckoned 'big medicine,' an' any one that can keep up seven +is considered swell." + +"Do you know any other things besides bows and arrows that would do?" + +"I think that a rubbing-stick fire ought to count," interrupted Sam. +"I want that in coz Guy can't do it. Any one who kin do it at all gets +a feather, an' any one who kin do it in one minute gets a swagger +feather, or whatever you call it; that takes care of Yan and me an' +leaves Guy out in the cold." + +"I'll bet I kin hunt Deer all round you both, I kin." + +"Oh, shut up, Sappy; we're tired a-hearing about your Deer hunting. +We're going to abolish that game." Then Sam continued, apparently +addressing Caleb, "Do you know any Injun games?" + +But Caleb took no notice. + +Presently Yan said, "Don't the Injuns play games, Mr. Clark? + +"Well, yes, I kin show you two Injun games that will test your +eyesight." + +"I bet I kin beat any one at it," Guy made haste to tell. "Why, I seen +that Deer before Yan could--" + +"Oh, shut up, Guy," Yan now exclaimed. A peculiar +sound--"_Wheet--wheet--wheet_"--made Sappy turn. He saw Sam with +an immense knife, whetting it most vigorously and casting a hungry, +fishy glance from time to time to the "yaller moss-tuft" on Guy's neck. + +[Illustration: Archery Coup Feathers Their Special Marks Target Coup +Feather Long-distance Five-in-air-at once] + +"Time has came," he said to nobody in particular. + +"You better let me alone," whined Guy, for that horrible +"_wheet--wheet_" jarred his nerves somehow. He looked toward Yan, +and seeing, as he thought, the suggestion of a smile, he felt +more comfortable, but a glance at Sam dispelled his comfort; the +Woodpecker's face was absolutely inscrutable and perfectly demoniac +with paint. + +"Why don't you whet up, Little Beaver? Don't you want your share?" +asked the Head Chief through his teeth. + +"I vote we let him wear it till he brags again about his Deer-hunting. +Then off she comes to the bone," was the reply. "Tell us about the +Injun game, Mr. Clark." + +"I pretty near forget it now, but le's see. They make two squares on +the ground or on two skins; each one is cut up in twenty-five smaller +squares with lines like that. Then they have, say, ten rings an' ten +nuts or pebbles. One player takes five rings an' five nuts an' sets +them around on the squares of one set, an' don't let the other see +till all is ready; then the other turns an' looks at it while some one +else sings a little song that one of the boys turned into: + + "'Ki yi ya--ki yi yee, + You think yer smart as ye kin be, + You think yer awful quick to see + But yer not too quick for me, + Ki yi ya--ki yi yee.' + +"Then the first square is covered with a basket or anything and the +second player must cover the other skin with counters just the same +from memory. For every counter he gets on the right square he counts +one, and loses one for each on the wrong square." + +"I'll bet I kin----" Guy began, but Sam's hand gripped his moss-tuft. + +"Here, you let me alone. I ain't bragging. I'm only telling the simple +truth." + +"Ugh! Better tell some simple lies, then--much safer," said the Great +Woodpecker, with horrid calm and meaning. "If ever I lift that scalp +you'll catch cold and die, do ye know it?" + +Again Yan could see that Caleb had to look far away to avoid taking an +apparent interest. + +"There's another game. I don't know as it's Injun, but it's the kind +o' game where an Injun _could_ win. They first made two six-inch +squares of white wood or card, then on each they made rings like a +target or squares like the quicksight game, or else two Rabbits the +same on each. One feller takes six spots of black, half an inch +across, an' sticks them on one, scattering anyhow, an' sets it up a +hundred yards off; another feller takes same number of spots an' the +other Rabbit an' walks up till he can see to fix his Rabbit the same. +If he kin do it at seventy-five yards he's a swell; if he kin do it at +sixty yards he's away up, but less than fifty yards is no good. I seen +the boys have lots o' fun out o' it. They try to fool each other every +way, putting one spot right on another or leaving some off. It's a +sure 'nough test of good eyes." + +"I'll bet--" began Sappy again, but a loud savage "Grrrr" from +Sam, who knew perfectly well what was coming, put a stop to the bet, +whatever it was. + +"There was two other Injun tests of eyes that I mind now. Some old +Buck would show the youngsters the Pleiades--them's the little stars +that the Injuns call the Bunch--an' ask 'How many kin you see?' Some +could sho'ly see five or six an' some could make out seven. Them as +sees seven is mighty well off for eyes. Ye can't see the Pleiades +now--they belong to the winter nights; but you kin see the Dipper the +hull year round, turning about the North Star. The Injuns call this +the 'Broken Back,' an' I've heard the old fellers ask the boys: 'You +see the Old Squaw--that's the star, second from the end, the one at +the bend of the handle--well, she has a papoose on her back. Kin you +see the papoose?' an' sure enough, when my eyes was real good I could +see the little baby star tucked in by the big un. It's a mighty good +test of eyes if you kin see that." + +"Eh--" began Guy. + +But "Grrrrrrrrr" from Sam stopped him in time. Again Caleb's eyes +wandered afar. Then he stepped out of the teepee and Yan heard him +mutter, "Consarn that whelp, he makes me laugh spite o' myself." +He went off a little way into the woods and presently called "Yan! +Guy! Come here." All three ran out. "Talking about eyes, what's +that?" An opening in the foliage gave a glimpse of the distant +Burns's clover field. "Looks like a small Bear." + +"Woodchuck! That's our Woodchuck! That's the ole sinner that throwed +Paw off'n the mower. Where's my bone-arrer?" and Guy went for his +weapons. + +The boys ran for the fence of the clover field, going more cautiously +as they came near. Still the old Woodchuck heard something and sat up +erect on his haunches. He was a monster, and out on the smooth clover +field he did look like a very small Bear. His chestnut breast was +curiously relieved by his unusually gray back and head. + +"Paw says it's his sins as turned his head gray. He's a hoary headed +sinner, an' he ain't repented o' none o' them so far, but _I'm_ +after him now." + +"Hold on! Start even!" said Sam, seeing that Guy was prepared to +shoot. + +So all drew together, standing in a row like an old picture of the +battle of Crecy. The arrows scattered about the Woodchuck. Most went +much too far, none went near because he was closer than they had +supposed, but he scuttled away into his hole, there, no doubt, to plan +a new trap for the man with the mower. + + + + +VII + +Campercraft + + +"How'd you sleep, Sam?" + +"Didn't sleep a durn bit." + +"Neither did I. I was shivering all night. I got up an' put the spare +blanket on, but it didn't do any good." + +"Wonder if there was a chills-and-fever fog or something?" + +"How'd you find it, Sappy?" + +"All right." + +"Didn't smell any fog?" + +"Nope." + +The next night it was even worse. Guy slept placidly, if noisily, but +Sam and Yan tumbled about and shivered for hours. In the morning at +dawn Sam sat up. + +"Well, I tell you this is no joke. Fun's fun, but if I am going to +have the shivers every night I'm going home while I'm able." + +Yan said nothing. He was very glum. He felt much as Sam did, but was +less ready to give up the outing. + +Their blues were nearly dispelled when the warm sun came up, but still +they dreaded the coming night. + +"Wonder what it is," said Little Beaver. + +"'Pears to me powerful like chills and fever and then again it don't. +Maybe we drink too much swamp water. I believe we're p'isoned with +Guy's cooking." + +"More like getting scurvy from too much meat. Let's ask Caleb." + +Caleb came around that afternoon or they would have gone after him. +He heard Yan's story in silence, then, "Have ye sunned your blankets +sense ye came?" + +"No." + +Caleb went into the teepee, felt the blankets, then grunted: "H-m! +Jest so. They're nigh soppin'. You turn in night after night an' sweat +an' sweat in them blankets an' wonder why they're damp. Hain't you +seen your ma air the blankets every day at home? Every Injun squaw +knows that much, an' every other day at least she gives the blankets a +sun roast for three hours in the middle of the day, or, failing that, +dries them at the fire. Dry out your blankets and you won't have no +more chills." + +The boys set about it at once, and that night they experienced again +the sweet, warm sleep of healthy youth. + +There was another lesson they had to learn in campercraft. The +Mosquitoes were always more or less of a plague. At night they forced +the boys into the teepee, but they soon learned to smudge the insects +with a wad of green grass on the hot fire. This they would throw on +at sundown, then go outside, closing the teepee tight and eat supper +around the cooking fire. After that was over they would cautiously +open the teepee to find the grass all gone and the fire low, a dense +cloud of smoke still in the upper part, but below it clear air. +They would then brush off the Mosquitoes that had alighted on their +clothes, crawl into the lodge and close the door tight. Not a Mosquito +was left alive in it, and the smoke hanging about the smoke-vent was +enough to keep them from coming in, and so they slept in peace. Thus +they could baffle the worst pest of the woods. But there was yet +another destroyer of comfort by day, and this was the Blue-bottle +flies. There seemed more of them as time went on, and they laid masses +of yellowish eggs on anything that smelled like meat or corruption. +They buzzed about the table and got into the dishes; their dead, +drowned and mangled bodies were polluting all the food, till Caleb +remarked during one of his ever-increasing visits: "It's your own +fault. Look at all the filth ye leave scattered about." + +There was no blinking the fact; for fifty feet around the teepee the +ground was strewn with scraps of paper, tins and food. To one side +was a mass of potato peelings, bones, fish-scales and filth, and +everywhere were the buzzing flies, to be plagues all day, till at +sundown the Mosquitoes relieved them and took the night shift of the +office of torment. + +"I want to learn, especially if it's Injun," said Little Beaver. "What +had we best do?" + +"Wall, first ye could move camp; second, ye could clean this." + +As there was no other available camp ground they had no choice, and +Yan said with energy: "Boys, we got to clean this and keep it clean, +too. We'll dig a hole for everything that won't burn." + +So Yan seized the spade and began to dig in the bushes not far from +the teepee. Sam and Guy were gradually drawn in. They began gathering +all the rubbish and threw it into the hole. As they tumbled in bones, +tins and scraps of bread Yan said: "I just hate to see that bread go +in. It doesn't seem right when there's so many living things would be +glad to get it." + +At this, Caleb, who was sitting on a log placidly smoking, said: + +"Now, if ye want to be real Injun, ye gather all the eatables ye don't +want--meat, bread and anything, an' every day put it on some +high place. Most generally the Injuns has a rock--they call it +_Wakan_; that means sacred medicine--an' there they leave scraps +of food to please the good spirits. Av coorse it's the birds and +Squirrels gets it all; but the Injun is content as long as it's gone, +an' if ye argy with them that 'tain't the spirits gets it, but the +birds, they say: 'That doesn't matter. The birds couldn't get it if +the spirits didn't want them to have it,' or maybe the birds took it +to carry to the spirits!" + +Then the Grand Council went out in a body to seek the _Wakan +Rock_. They found a good one in the open part of the woods, and it +became a daily duty of one to carry the remnants of food to the rock. +They were probably less acceptable to the wood creatures than they +would have been half a year later, but they soon found that there were +many birds glad to eat at the _Wakan_; and moreover, that before +long there was a trail from the brook, only twenty-five yards away, +that told of four-foots also enjoying the bounty of the good spirits. + +Within three days of this the plague of Bluebottles was over, and the +boys realized that, judging by its effects, the keeping of a dirty +camp is a crime. + +One other thing old Caleb insisted on: "Yan," said he, "you didn't +ought to drink that creek water now; it ain't hardly runnin'. The sun +hez it het up, an' it's gettin' too crawly to be healthy." + +"Well, what are we going to do?" said Sam, though he might as well +have addressed the brook itself. + +"What can we do, Mr. Clark?" + +"Dig a well!" + +"Phew! We're out here for fun!" was Sam's reply. + +"Dig an Injun well," Caleb said. "Half an hour will do it. Here, I'll +show you." + +He took the spade and, seeking a dry spot, about twenty feet from the +upper end of the pond he dug a hole some two feet square. By the time +he was down three feet the water was oozing in fast. He got it down +about four feet and then had to stop, on account of inflow. He took a +bucket and bailed the muddy stuff out right to the bottom, and let it +fill up to be again bailed out. After three bailings the water came in +cold, sweet, and pure as crystal. + +"There," said he, "that water is from your pond, but it is filtered +through twenty feet of earth and sand. That's the way to get cool, +pure water out of the dirtiest of swamps. That's an Injun well." + + + + +VIII + +The Indian Drum + + "Oh, that hair of horse and skin of sheep should + Have such power to move the souls of men." + + +"If you were real Injun you'd make a drum of that," said Caleb to +Yan, as they came to a Basswood blown over by a recent storm and now +showing its weakness, for it was quite hollow--a mere shell. + +"How do they do it? I want to know how." + +"Get me the axe." + +Yan ran for the axe. Caleb cut out a straight unbroken section about +two feet long. This they carried to camp. + +"Coorse ye know," said Caleb, "ye can't have a drum without skins for +heads." + +"What kind of skins?" + +"Oh, Horse, Dog, Cow, Calf--'most any kind that's strong enough." + +"I got a Calfskin in our barn, an' I know where there's another in the +shed, but it's all chawed up with Rats. Them's mine. I killed them +Calves. Paw give me the skins for killin' an' skinnin' them. Oh, you +jest ought to see me kill a Calf--" + +Guy was going off into one of his autopanegyrics when Sam who was now +being rubbed on a sore place, gave a "Whoop!" and grabbed the tow-tuft +with a jerk that sent the Third War Chief sprawling and ended the +panegyric in the usual volley of "you-let-me-'lones." + +"Oh, quit, Sam," objected Little Beaver. "You can't stop a Dog +barking. It's his nature." Then to Guy: "Never mind, Guy; you are not +hurt. I'll bet you can beat him hunting Deer, and you can see twice as +far as he can." + +"Yes, I kin; that's what makes him so mad. I'll bet I kin see three +times as far--maybe five times," was the answer in injured tones. + +"Go on now, Guy, and get the skins--that is, if you want a drum for +the war dance. You're the only one in the crowd that's man enough to +make the raise of a hide," and fired by this flattery, Guy sped away. + +Meanwhile Caleb worked on the hollow log. He trimmed off the bark, +then with the hatchet he cleared out all the punk and splinters +inside. He made a fire on the ground in the middle of the drum-log as +it stood on end, and watching carefully, he lifted it off from time to +time and chopped away all the charred parts, smoothing and trimming +till he had the log down thin and smooth within and without. They +heard Guy shouting soon after he left. They thought him near at hand, +but he did not come. Trimming the drum-log took a couple of hours, and +still Guy did not return. The remark from Caleb, "'Bout ready for the +skins now!" called from Sam the explanation, "Guess Old Man Burns +snapped him up and put him to weeding the garden. Probably that was +him we heard gettin' licked." + +"Old Man Burns" was a poor and shiftless character, a thin, +stoop-shouldered man. He was only thirty-five years of age, but, being +married, that was enough to secure for him the title "Old Man." In +Sanger, if Tom Nolan was a bachelor at eighty years of age he would +still be Tom Nolan, "wan of the bhoys," but if he married at twenty he +at once became "Old Man Nolan." + +Mrs. Burns had produced the usual string of tow-tops, but several had +died, the charitable neighbours said of starvation, leaving Guy, the +eldest, his mother's darling, then a gap and four little girls, four, +three, two and one years of age. She was a fat, fair, easy-going +person, with a general sense of antagonism to her husband, who was, +of course, the natural enemy of the children. Jim Burns cherished the +ideal of bringing "that boy" up right--that is, getting all the work +he could out of him--and Guy clung to his own ideal of doing as little +work as possible. In this clash of ideals Guy's mother was his firm, +though more or less secret, ally. He was without fault in her eyes: +all that he did was right. His freckled visage and pudgy face were +types of noble beauty, standards of comeliness and human excellence; +his ways were ways of pleasantness and all his paths were peace; +Margat Burns was sure of it. + +Burns had a good deal of natural affection, but he was erratic; +sometimes he would flog Guy mercilessly for nothing, and again laugh +at some serious misdeed, so that the boy never knew just what to +expect, and kept on the safe side by avoiding his "Paw" as much as +possible. His visits to the camp had been thoroughly disapproved, +partly because it was on Old Man Raften's land and partly because it +enabled Guy to dodge the chores. Burns had been quite violent about it +once or twice, but Mrs. Burns had the great advantage of persistence, +and like the steady strain of the skilful angler on the slender line, +it wins in the end against the erratic violence of the strongest +trout. She had managed then that Guy should join the Injun camp, and +gloried in his outrageously exaggerated accounts of how he could lick +them all at anything, "though they wuz so much older'n bigger'n he +wuz." + +But on this day he was fallen in hard luck. His father saw him coming, +met him with a "gad" and lashed him furiously. Knowing perfectly well +that the flogging would not stop till the proper effect was produced, +and that was to be gauged by the racket, Guy yelled his loudest. This +was the uproar the boys had heard. + +"Now, ye idle young scut! I'll larn ye to go round leaving bars down. +You go an' tend to your work." So instead of hiking back gloriously +laden with Calfskins, Guy was sent to ignominious and un-Injun toil in +the garden. + +Soon he heard his mother: "Guysie, Guysie." He dropped his hoe and +walked to the kitchen. + +"Where you goin'?" roared his father from afar. "Go back and mind your +work." + +"Maw wants me. She called me." + +"You mind your work. Don't you dar' on your life to go thayer." + +But Guy took no notice and walked on to his mother. He knew that at +this post-thrashing stage of wrath his father was mouthy and harmless, +and soon he was happy eating a huge piece of bread and jam. + +"Poor dear, you must be hungry, an' your Paw was so mean to +you. There, now, don't cry," for Guy began to weep again at the +recollection of his wrongs. Then she whispered confidentially: "Paw's +going to Downey's this afternoon, an' you can slip away as soon as +he's gone, an' if you work well before that he won't be so awful mad +after you come back. But be sure you don't let down the bars, coz if +the pig was to get in Raften's woods dear knows what." + +This was the reason of Guy's delay. He did not return to camp with the +skins till late that day. As soon as he was gone, his foolish, doting +mother, already crushed with the burden of the house, left everything +and hoed two or three extra rows of cabbages, so "Paw" should find a +great showing of work when he came back. + +The Calfskins were hard as tin and, of course, had the hair on. + +Caleb remarked, "It'll take two or three days to get them right," and +buried them in a marshy, muddy pool in the full sunlight. "The warmer +the better." + +Three days later he took them out. Instead of being thin, hard, +yellow, semi-transparent, they now were much thicker, densely white, +and soft as silk. The hair was easily scraped off and the two pieces +were pronounced all right for drumheads. + +Caleb washed them thoroughly in warm water, with soap to clear off +the grease, scraping them on both sides with a blunt knife; then he +straightened the outer edge of the largest, and cut a thin strip +round and round it till he had some sixty feet of rawhide line, about +three-quarters of an inch wide. This he twisted, rolled and stretched +until it was nearly round, then he cut from the remainder a circular +piece thirty inches across, and a second from the "unchawed" part of +the other skin. He laid these one on the other, and with the sharp +point of a knife he made a row of holes in both, one inch from the +edge and two inches apart. Then he set one skin on the ground, the +drum-log on that and the other skin on the top, and bound them +together with the long lace, running it from hole No. 1 on the top +to No. 2 on the bottom, then to No. 3 on the top, and No. 4 on the +bottom, and so on twice around, till every hole had a lace through it +and the crossing laces made a diamond pattern all around. At first +this was done loosely, but tightened up when once around, and +finally both the drum-heads were drawn tense. To the surprise of all, +Guy promptly took possession of the finished drum. "Them's my +Calfskins," which, of course, was true. + +And Caleb said, with a twinkle in his eye, "The wood _seems_ to +go with the skins." + +A drumstick of wood, with a piece of sacking lashed on to soften it, +was made, and Guy was disgusted to find how little sound the drum gave +out. + +"'Bout like pounding a fur cap with a lamb's tail," Sam thought. + +"You hang that up in the shade to dry and you'll find a change," said +the Trapper. + +It was quite curious to note the effect of the drying as the hours +went by. The drum seemed to be wracking and straining itself in +the agony of effort, and slight noises came from it at times. When +perfectly dry the semi-transparency of the rawhide came back, and the +sound now was one to thrill the Red-man's heart. + +Caleb taught them a little Indian war chant, and they danced round +to it as he drummed and sang, till their savage instincts seemed to +revive. But above all it worked on Yan. As he pranced around in step +his whole nature seemed to respond; he felt himself a part of that +dance. It was in himself; it thrilled him through and through and sent +his blood exulting. He would gladly have given up all the White-man's +"glorious gains" to live with the feeling called up by that Indian +drum. + + + + +IX + +The Cat And The Skunk + + +Sam was away on a "massacree" to get some bread. Guy had been trapped +by his natural enemy and was serving a term of hard labour in the +garden; so Yan was alone in camp. He went around the various mud +albums, but discovered nothing new, except the fact that tracks were +getting more numerous. There were small Skunk and Mink tracks with the +large ones now. As he came by the brush fence at the end of the blazed +trail he saw a dainty little Yellow Warbler feeding a great lubberly +young Cow-bird that, evidently, it had brought up. He had often heard +that the Cow-bird habitually "plays Cuckoo" and leaves its egg in the +nest of another bird, but this was the first time he had actually +seen anything of it with his own eyes. As he watched the awkward +mud-coloured Cow-bird flutter its ungrown wings and beg help from the +brilliant little Warbler, less than half its size, he wondered whether +the fond mother really was fooled into thinking it her own young, or +whether she did it simply out of compassion for the foundling. He now +turned down creek to the lower mud album, and was puzzled by a new +track like this. + +[Illustration: Track of small mud turtle] + +He sketched it, but before the drawing was done it dawned on him that +this must be the track of a young Mud-turtle. He also saw a lot of +very familiar tracks, not a few being those of the common Cat, and he +wondered why they should be about so much and yet so rarely seen. Of +course the animals were chiefly nocturnal, but the boys were partly +so, and always on the ground now, so that explanation was not +satisfactory. He lay down on his breast at the edge of the brook, +which had here cut in a channel with steep clay walls six feet high +and twenty feet apart. The stream was very small now--a mere thread +of water zigzagging over the level muddy floor of the "canon," as Yan +loved to call it. A broad, muddy margin at each side of the water made +a fine place of record for the travelling Four-foots, and tracks new +and old were there in abundance. + +The herbage on the bank was very rank and full of noisy Grasshoppers +and Crickets. Great masses of orange Jewelweed on one side were +variegated with some wonderful Cardinal flowers. Yan viewed all this +with placid content. He knew their names now, and thus they were +transferred from the list of tantalizing mysteries to that of engaging +and wonderful friends. As he lay there on his breast his thoughts +wandered back to the days when he did not know the names of any +flowers or birds--when all was strange and he alone in his hunger to +know them, and Bonnerton came back to him with new, strange force of +reminder. His father and mother, his brother and schoolmates were +there. It seemed like a bygone existence, though only two months ago. +He had written his mother to tell of his arrival, and once since to +say that he was well. He had received a kind letter from his mother, +with a scripture text or two, and a postscript from his father with +some sound advice and more scripture texts. Since then he had not +written. He could not comprehend how he could so completely drift +away, and yet clearly it was because he had found here in Sanger the +well for which he had thirsted. + +As he lay there thinking, a slight movement nearer the creek caught +his eye. A large Basswood had been blown down. Like most of its kind, +it was hollow. Its trunk was buried in the tangle of rank summer +growth, but a branch had been broken off and left a hole in the main +stem. In the black cavern of the hole there appeared a head with +shining green eyes, then out there glided onto the log a common gray +Cat. She sat there in the sunshine, licked her paws, dressed her fur +generally, stretched her claws and legs after the manner of her kind, +walked to the end of the log, then down the easy slope to the bottom +of the canon. Here she took a drink, daintily shook the water from +her paws, and set the hair just right with a stroke. Then to Yan's +amusement she examined all the tracks much as he had done, though it +seemed clear that her nose, not her eyes, was judge. She walked down +stream, leaving some very fine impressions that Yan mentally resolved +to have in his note-book, very soon suddenly stopped, looked upward +and around, a living picture of elegance, sleekness and grace, with +eyes of green fire then deliberately leaped from the creek bed to the +tangle of the bank and disappeared. + +This seemed a very commonplace happening, but the fact of a house Cat +taking to the woods lent her unusual interest, and Yan felt much of +the thrill that a truly wild animal would have given him, and had gone +far enough in art to find exquisite pleasure in the series of pictures +the Cat had presented to his eyes. + +He lay there for some minutes expecting her to reappear; then far up +the creek he heard slight rattling of the gravel. He turned and saw, +not the Cat, but a very different and somewhat larger animal. Low, +thick-set, jet black, with white marks and an immense bushy tail--Yan +recognized the Skunk at once, although he had never before met a wild +one in daylight. It came at a deliberate waddle, nosing this way and +that. It rounded the bend and was nearly opposite Yan, when three +little Skunks of this year's brood came toddling after the mother. + +The old one examined the tracks much as the Cat had done, and Yan got +a singular sense of brotherhood in seeing the wild things at his own +study. + +Then the old Skunk came to the fresh tracks of the Cat and paused so +long to smell them that the three young ones came up and joined in. +One of the young ones went to the bank where the Cat came down. As it +blew its little nose over the fresh scent, the old Skunk waddled to +the place, became quite interested, then climbed the bank. The little +ones followed in a disjointed procession, varied by one of them +tumbling backward from the steep trail. + +The old Skunk reached the top of the bank, then mounted the log and +followed unerringly the Cat's back trail to the hole in the trunk. +Down this she peered a minute, then, sniffing, walked in, till nothing +could be seen but her tail. Now Yan heard loud, shrill mewing from the +log, "_Mew, mew, m-e-u-w, m-e-e-u-w,"_ and the old Skunk came +backing out, holding a small gray Kitten. + +The little thing mewed and spit energetically, holding on to the +inside of the log. But the old Skunk was too strong--she dragged it +out. Then holding it down with both paws, she got a good firm grip +of its neck and turned to carry it down to the bed of the brook. +The Kitten struggled vigorously, and at last got its claws into the +Skunk's eye and gave such a wrench that the ill-smelling villain +loosened its hold a little and so gave the Kitten another chance to +squeal, which it did with a will, putting all its strength into a +succession of heartrending _mee-ow--mee-ows._ Yan's heart +was touched. He was about to dash to the rescue when there was a +scrambling in the far grass, a rush of gray, and the Cat--the old +mother Cat was on the scene, a picture of demon rage, eyes ablaze, fur +erect, ears back. With the spring of a Deer and the courage of a Lion +she made for the black murderer. Eye could not follow the flashings +of her paws. The Skunk recoiled and stared stupidly, but not long; +nothing was "long" about it. Her every superb muscle was tingling with +force and mad with hate as the mother Cat closed like a swooping +Falcon. The Skunk had no time to aim that dreadful gun, and in the +excitement fired a volley of the deadly musky spray backward, +drenching her own young as they huddled in the trail. + +[Illustration: "The Cat and the Skunk"] + +Tooth and claw and deadly grip--the old Cat raged and tore, the black +fur flew in every direction, and the Skunk for once lost her head and +fired random shots of choking spray that drenched herself as well as +the Cat. The Skunk's head and neck were terribly torn. The air was +suffocating with the poisonous musk. The Skunk was desperately wounded +and threw herself backward into the water. Blinded and choking, though +scarcely bleeding, the old Cat would have followed even there, but the +Kitten, wedged under the log, mewed piteously and stayed the mother's +fury. She dragged it out unharmed but drenched with musk and carried +it quickly to the den in the hollow log, then came out again and stood +erect, blinking her blazing eyes--for they were burning with the +spray--lashing her tail, the image of a Tigress eager to fight either +part or all the world for the little ones she nursed. But the old +Skunk had had more than enough. She scrambled off down the canon. Her +three young ones had tumbled over each other to get out of the way +when they got that first accidental charge of their mother's battery. +She waddled away, leaving a trail of blood and smell, and they waddled +after, leaving an odour just as strong. + +[Illustration: "The old Cat raged and tore"] + +Yan was thrilled by the desperate fight of the heroic old Cat. Her +whole race went up higher in his esteem that day; and the fact that +the house Cat really could take to the woods and there maintain +herself by hunting was all that was needed to give her a place in his +list of animal heroes. + +Pussy walked uneasily up and down the log, from the hole where the +Kittens were to the end overlooking the canon. She blinked very hard +and was evidently suffering severely, but Yan knew quite well that +there was no animal on earth big enough or strong enough to frighten +that Cat from her post at the door of her home. There is no courage +more indomitable than that of a mother Cat who is guarding her young. + +At length all danger of attack seemed over, and Pussy, shaking her +paws and wiping her eyes, glided into her hole. Oh, what a shock it +must have been to the poor Kittens, though partly prepared by their +brother's unsavoury coming back. There was the mother, whose return +had always been heralded by a delicious odour of fresh Mouse or bird, +interwoven with a loving and friendly odour of Cat, that was in itself +a promise of happiness. Scent is the main thing in Cat life, and now +the hole was darkened by a creature that was rank with every nasal +guarantee of deadly enmity. Little wonder that they all fled puffing +and spitting to the dark corners. It was a hard case; all the little +stomachs were upset for a long time. They could do nothing but make +the best of it and get used to it. The den never smelt any better +while they were there, and even after they grew up and lived elsewhere +many storms passed overhead before the last of the Skunk smell left +them. + + + + +X + +THE ADVENTURES OF A SQUIRREL FAMILY + + +"I'll bet I kin make a Woodpecker come out of that hole," said +Sapwood, one day as the three Red-men proceeded, bow in hand, through +a far corner of Burns's Bush. He pointed to a hole in the top of a +tall dead stub, then going near he struck the stub a couple of heavy +blows with a pole. To the surprise of all there flew out, not a +Woodpecker, but a Flying Squirrel. It scrambled to the top of the +stub, looked this way and that, then spread its legs, wings and tail +and sailed downward, to rise slightly at the end of its flight against +a tree some twenty feet away. Yan bounded to catch it. His fingers +clutched on its furry back, but he got such a cut from its sharp teeth +that he was glad to let it go. It scrambled up the far side of the +trunk and soon was lost in the branches. + +Guy was quite satisfied that he had carried out his promise of +bringing a Woodpecker out of the hole, "For ain't a Flying Squirrel a +kind of Woodpecker?" he argued. He was, in consequence, very "cocky" +the rest of the day, proposing to produce a Squirrel whenever they +came to a stub with a hole in it, and at length, after many failures, +had the satisfaction of driving a belated Woodpecker out of its nest. + +The plan was evidently a good one for discovering living creatures. +Yan promptly adopted it, and picking up a big stick as they drew near +another stub with holes, he gave three or four heavy thumps. A Red +Squirrel scrambled out of a lower hole and hid in an upper one; +another sharp blow made it pop out and jump to the top of the stub, +but eventually back into the lower hole. + +The boys became much excited. They hammered the stub now without +making the Squirrel reappear. + +"Let's cut it down," said Little Beaver. + +"Show you a better trick than that," replied the Woodpecker. He looked +about and got a pole some twenty feet long. This he placed against a +rough place high up on the stub and gave it a violent push, watching +carefully the head of the stub. Yes! It swayed just a little. Sam +repeated the push, careful to keep time with the stub and push always +just as it began to swing away from him. The other boys took hold of +the pole and all pushed together, as Sam called, "Now--now--now--" + +A single push of 300 or 400 pounds would scarcely have moved the stub, +but these little fifty-pound pushes at just the right time made it +give more and more, and after three or four minutes the roots, that +had begun to crack, gave way with a craunching sound, and down crashed +the great stub. Its hollow top struck across a fallen log and burst +open in a shower of dust, splinters and rotten wood. The boys rushed +to the spot to catch the Squirrel, if possible. It did not scramble +out as they expected it would, even when they turned over the +fragments. They found the front of the stub with the old Woodpecker +hole in it, and under that was a mass of finely shredded cedar bark, +evidently a nest. Yan eagerly turned it over, and there lay the Red +Squirrel, quite still and unharmed apparently, but at the end of her +nose was a single drop of blood. Close beside her were five little +Squirrels, evidently a very late brood, for they were naked, blind and +helpless. One of them had at its nose a drop of blood and it lay as +still as the mother. At first the hunters thought the old one was +playing 'Possum, but the stiffness of death soon set in. + +Now the boys felt very guilty and sorry. By thoughtlessly giving way +to their hunting instincts they had killed a harmless mother Squirrel +in the act of protecting her young, and the surviving little ones had +no prospect but starvation. + +Yan had been the most active in the chase, and now was far more +conscience-stricken than either of the others. + +"What are we going to do with them?" asked the Woodpecker. "They are +too young to be raised for pets." + +"Better drown them and be done with them," suggested Sappy, recalling +the last honours of several broods of Kittens at home. + +"I wish we could find another Squirrel's nest to put them into," +said Little Beaver remorsefully, and then as he looked at the four +squirming, helpless things in his hand the tears of repentance filled +his eyes. "We might as well kill them and end their misery. We can't +find another Squirrel's nest so late as this." But after a little +silence he added, "I know some one who will put them out of pain. She +may as well have them. She'd get them anyway, and that's the old gray +wild Cat. Let's put them in her nest when she's away." + +This seemed a reasonable, simple and merciful way of getting rid of +the orphans. So the boys made for the "canon" part of the brook. At +one time of the afternoon the sun shone so as to show plainly all that +was in the hole. The boys went very quietly to Yan's lookout bank, and +seeing that only the Kittens were there, Yan crept across and dropped +the young Squirrels into the nest, then went back to his friends to +watch, like Miriam, the fate of the foundlings. + +They had a full hour to wait for the old Cat, and as they were very +still all that time they were rewarded with a sight of many pretty +wild things. + +A Humming-bird "boomed" into view and hung in a misty globe of wings +before one Jewel-flower after another. + +"Say, Beaver, you said Humming-birds was something or other awful +beautiful," said Woodpecker, pointing to the dull grayish-green bird +before them. + +"And I say so yet. Look at that," as, with a turn in the air, the +hanging Hummer changed its jet-black throat to flame and scarlet that +silenced the critic. + +After the Humming-bird went away a Field-mouse was seen for a moment +dodging about in the grass, and shortly afterward a Shrew-mole, not so +big as the Mouse, was seen in hot pursuit on its trail. + +Later a short-legged brown animal, as big as a Rabbit, came nosing up +the dry but shady bed of the brook, and as it went beneath them Yan +recognized by its little Beaver-like head and scaly oar-shaped tail +that it was a Muskrat, apparently seeking for water. + +There was plenty in the swimming-pond yet, and the boys realized that +this had become a gathering place for those wild things that were +"drowned out by the drought," as Sam put it. + +The Muskrat had not gone more than twenty minutes before another +deep-brown animal appeared. "Another Muskrat; must be a meeting," +whispered the Woodpecker. But this one, coming close, proved a very +different creature. As long as a Cat, but lower, with broad, flat head +and white chin and throat, short legs, in shape a huge Weasel, there +was no mistaking it; this was a Mink, the deadly enemy of the Muskrat, +and now on the track of its prey. It rapidly turned the corner, nosing +the trail like a Hound. If it overtook the Muskrat before it got to +the pond there would be a tragedy. If the Muskrat reached the deep +water it might possibly escape. But just as sure as the pond became a +gathering place for Muskrats it would also become a gathering place +for Mink. + +Not five minutes had gone since the Mink went by before a silent gray +form flashed upon the log opposite. Oh, how sleek and elegant it +looked! What perfection of grace she seemed after the waddling, hunchy +Muskrat and the quick but lumbering Mink. There is nothing more supple +and elegant than a fine Cat, and men of science the world over have +taken the Cat as the standard of perfection in animal make-up. Pussy +glanced about for danger. She had brought no bird or Mouse, for the +Kittens were yet too young for such training. The boys watched her +with intensest interest. She glided along the log to the hole--the +Skunk-smelling hole--uttered her low "_purrow, purrow_," that +always sets the hungry Kittens agog, and was curling in around them, +when she discovered the pink Squirrel-babies among her own. She +stopped licking the nearest Kitten, stared at a young Squirrel, and +smelled it. Yan wondered what help that could be when everything +smelled of Skunk. But it did seem to decide her, for she licked it +a moment, then lying down she gathered them all in her four-legged +embrace, turned her chin up in the air and Sappy announced gleefully +that "The little Squirrels were feeding with the little Cats." + +The boys waited a while longer, then having made sure that the little +Squirrels had been lovingly adopted by their natural enemy, they went +quietly back to camp. Now they found a daily pleasure in watching the +mixed family. + +And here it may be as well to give the rest of the story. The old gray +Cat faithfully and lovingly nursed those foundlings. They seemed +to prosper, and Yan, recalling that he had heard of a Cat actually +raising a brood of Rabbits, looked forward to the day when Kittens +and Squirrelets should romp together in the sun. After a week Sappy +maintained that only one Squirrel appeared at the breakfast table, and +in ten days none. Yan stole over to the log and learned the truth. All +four were dead in the bottom of the nest. There was nothing to tell +why. The old Cat had done her best--had been all love and tenderness, +but evidently had not been able to carry out her motherly intentions. + +[Illustration: Four tiny headstones] + + + + +XI + +HOW TO SEE THE WOODFOLK + + +The days went merrily now, beginning each morning with a hunting of +the Woodchuck. The boys were on terms of friendship with the woods +that contrasted strongly with the feelings of that first night. + +This was the thought in Sam's mind when he one day remarked, "Say, +Yan, do you remember the night I slep' with the axe an' you with the +hatchet?" + +The Indians had learned to meet and conquer all the petty annoyances +of camp life, and so forgot them. Their daily routine was simplified. +Their acquaintance with woodfolk and wood-ways had grown so fast +that now they were truly at home. The ringing "_Kow_--_Kow_--_Kow_" +in the tree-tops was no longer a mere wandering voice, but the +summer song of the Black-billed Cuckoo. The loud, rattling, birdy +whistle in the low trees during dull weather Yan had traced to the +Tree-frog. + +The long-drawn "_Pee--re-e-e-e"_ of hot afternoons was the call +of the Wood-peewee, and a vast number of mysterious squeaks and +warbles had been traced home to the ever-bright and mischievous Blue +Jay. + +The nesting season was now over, as well as the song season; the birds, +therefore, were less to be seen, but the drying of the streams had +concentrated much life in the swimming-pond. The fence had been +arranged so that the cattle could reach one end of it to drink, but +the lower parts were safe from their clumsy feet, and wild life of +many kinds were there in abundance. + +The Muskrats were to be seen every evening in the calm pool, and fish +in great numbers were in the deeper parts. Though they were small, +the boys found them so numerous and so ready to bite that fishing was +great sport, and more than one good meal they had from that pond. +There were things of interest discovered daily. In a neighbour's field +Sam had found another Woodchuck with a "price on his head." Rabbits +began to come about the camp at night, especially when the moon was +bright, and frequently of late they had heard a querulous, yelping +bark that Caleb said was made by a Fox "probably that old rascal that +lives in Callahan's woods." + +The gray Cat in the log was always interesting. The boys went very +regularly to watch from a distance, but for good reasons did not go +near. First, they did not wish to scare her; second, they knew that if +they went too close she would not hesitate to attack them. + +One of the important lessons that Yan learned was this. In the woods +_the silent watcher sees the most_. The great difficulty in +watching was how to pass the time, and the solution was to sit and +_sketch._ Reading would have done had books been at hand, but +not so well as sketching, because then the eyes are fixed on the book +instead of the woods, and the turning of the white pages is apt to +alarm the shy woodfolk. + +Thus Yan put in many hours making drawings of things about the edge of +the pond. + +[Illustration: Kingfisher] + +As he sat one day in stillness a Minnow leaped from the water and +caught a Fly. Almost immediately a Kingfisher that had been shooting +past stopped in air, hovered, and darting downward, came up with a +Minnow in his beak, flew to a branch to swallow its prey, but no +sooner got there when a Chicken-hawk flashed out of a thick tree, +struck the Kingfisher with both feet and bore him downward to the +bank--in a moment would have killed him, but a long, brown creature +rushed from a hole in the bank and sprang on the struggling pair, to +change the scene in a twinkling. The three stragglers separated, the +Hawk to the left, the Kingfisher to the right, the Minnow flopped back +into the pool, and the Mink was left on the shore with a mouthful of +feathers and looking very foolish. As it stood shaking the down from +its nose another animal came gliding down through the shrubbery to the +shore--the old gray Cat. The Mink wrinkled up his nose, showed two +rows of sharp teeth and snarled in a furious manner, but backed off +under a lot of roots. The Cat laid down her ears; the fur on her back +and tail stood up; she crouched a little, her eyes blazing and the end +of her tail twitching, and she answered the snarling of the Mink with +a low growl. The Mink was evidently threatening "sudden death" to the +Cat, and Pussy evidently was not much impressed. The Mink retreated +farther under the roots till nothing but the green glowing of his eyes +was to be seen, and the Cat, coming forward, walked calmly by his +hiding-place and went about her business. The snarling under the root +died away, and as soon as his enemy was gone the Mink dived into the +water and was lost to view. + +These two animals had a second meeting, as Yan had the luck to witness +from his watching-place. He had heard the "plop" of a deft plunge, and +looked in time only to see the spreading rings near the shore. Then +the water was ruffled far up in the pond. A brown spot showed and was +gone. A second appeared, to vanish as the first had done. Later, a +Muskrat crawled out on the shore, waddled along for twenty feet, then, +plunging in, swam below, came up at the other bank, and crawled under +a lot of overhanging roots. A minute later the Mink appeared, his hair +all plastered close till he looked like a four-legged Snake. He landed +where the Muskrat had come out, followed the trail so that it was +lost, then galloped up and down the shore, plunged in, swam across, +and beat about the other shore. At last he struck the trail and +followed. Under the root there were sounds of a struggle, the snarling +of the mink, and in two or three minutes he appeared dragging out the +body of the Muskrat. He sucked its blood and was eating the brains +when again the gray Cat came prowling up the edge of the pond and, +not ten feet off, stood face to face with the Mink, as she had done +before. + +The Water Weasel saw his enemy but made no attempt to escape from +her. He stood with forepaws on his victim and snarling a warning and +defiance to the Cat. Pussy, after glaring for a few seconds, leaped +lightly to the high bank, passed above the Mink, then farther on +leaped down, and resumed her journey up the shore. + +Why should the Mink fear the Cat the first time, and the Cat the Mink +the second? Yan believed that ordinarily the Cat could "lick," +but that now the Mink had right on his side; he was defending his +property, and the Cat, knowing that, avoided a quarrel; whereas the +same Cat would have faced a thousand Mink in defense of her Kittens. + +These two scenes did not happen the same day, but are told together +because Yan always told them together afterward to show that the +animals understand something of right and wrong. + +But later Yan had another experience with the Muskrats. He and Sam +were smoothing out the lower album for the night, when a long stream +of water came briskly down the middle of the creek bed, which had been +dry for more than a week. + +"Hallo," said Woodpecker, "where's that from?" + +"A leak in the dam," said Little Beaver, with fear in his voice. + +The boys ran up to the dam and learned that the guess was right. +The water had found an escape round the end of the dam, and a close +examination showed that it had been made by a burrowing Muskrat. + +It was no little job to get it tightly closed up. But the spade was +handy, and a close-driven row of stakes with plenty of stiff clay +packed behind not only stopped the leak but gave a guarantee that in +future that corner at least would be safe. + +When Caleb heard of the Muskrat mischief he said: + +"Now ye know why the Beavers are always so dead sore on the Muskrats. +They know the Rats are liable to spoil their dams any time, so they +kill them whenever they get the chance." + +Little Beaver rarely watched an hour without seeing something of +interest in the swamp. The other warriors had not the patience to wait +so long and they were not able to make a pastime of sketching. + +Yan made several hiding-places where he found that living things were +most likely to be seen. Just below the dam was a little pool where +various Crawfish and thread-like Eels abounding proved very attractive +to Kingfisher and Crow, while little Tip-ups or Teetering Snipe would +wiggle their latter end on the level dam, or late in the day the +never-failing Muskrat would crawl out on a flat stone and sit like +a fur cap. The canon part of the creek was another successful +hiding-place, but the very best was at the upper end of the pond, for +the simple reason that it gave a view of more different kinds of land. +First the water with Muskrats and occasionally a Mink, next the little +marsh, always there, but greatly increased now by the back-up of the +water. Here one or two Field-mice and a pair of Sora Rails were at +home. Close at hand was the thick woods, where Partridges and Black +Squirrels were sometimes seen. + +Yan was here one day sketching the trunk of a Hemlock to pass the +watching time, but also because he had learned to love that old tree. +He never sketched because he loved sketching; he did not; the motive +always was love of the thing he was drawing. + +A Black-and-white Creeper had crawled like a Lizard over all the +trunks in sight. A Downy Woodpecker had digged a worm out of a log by +labour that most birds would have thought ill-paid by a dozen such +worms. A Chipmunk had come nearer and nearer till it had actually run +over his foot and then scurried away chattering in dismay at its +own rashness; finally, a preposterous little Cock Chickadee sang +"_Spring soon_--_spring soon_," as though any one were interested in +the gratuitous and unconvincing fib, when a brown, furry form hopped +noiselessly from the green leaves by the pond, skipped over a narrow +bay without wetting its feet, paused once or twice, then in the middle +of the open glade it sat up in plain view--a Rabbit. It sat so long +and so still that Yan first made a sketch that took three of four +minutes, then got out his watch and timed it for three minutes longer +before it moved in the least. Then it fed for some time, and Yan +tried to make a list of the things it ate and the things it shunned, +but could not do so with certainty. + +A noisy Flicker came out and alighted close by on a dried branch. The +Rabbit, or really a Northern Hare, "froze"--that is, became perfectly +still for a moment--but the Flicker marks were easy to read and had +long ago been learned as the uniform of a friend, so the Rabbit +resumed his meal, and when the Flicker flew again he paid no heed. +A Crow passed over, and yet another. "No; no danger from them." A +Red-shouldered Hawk wailed in the woods; the Rabbit heard that and +every other sound, but the Red-shoulder is not dangerous, and he knew +it. A large Hawk with _red tail_ circled silently over the glade, +and the Rabbit froze on the instant. That same red tail was the mark +of a dreaded foe. How well Bunny had learned to know them all! + +A bunch of clover tempted him to a full repast, after which he hopped +into a tussock in the midst of the glade and there turned himself into +a moss-bump, his legs swallowed up in his fur, and his ears laid over +his back like a pair of empty gloves or a couple of rounded shingles; +his nose-wabblings reduced in number, and he seemed to be sleeping in +the last warm rays of the sun. Yan was very anxious to see whether his +eyes were open or not; he had been told that Rabbits sleep with +open eyes, but at this distance he could not be sure. He had no +field-glass and Guy was not at hand, so the point remained in doubt. + +The last sun-blots had gone from the trail and the pond was all +shadowed by the trees on the western side. A Robin began its evening +hymn on a tall tree, where it could see the red sun going down, and a +Veery was trilling his _weary, weary, weary_ in the Elder thicket +along the brook, when another, a larger animal, loomed up in the +distant trail and glided silently toward Yan. Its head was low and he +could not make out what it was. As it stood there for a few seconds +Yan wet his finger in his mouth and held it up. A slight coolness on +the side next the coming creature told Yan that the breeze was from it +to him and would not betray him. It came on, seeming to grow larger, +turned a little to one side, and then Yan saw plainly by the sharp +nose and ears and the bushy tail that it was nothing less than a Fox, +probably the one that often barked near camp at night. + +It was trotting away at an angle, knowing nothing of the watching boy +nor of the crouching Rabbit, when Yan, merely to get a better look at +the cunning one, put the back of his hand to his mouth and by sucking +made a slight Mouse-like squeak, sweetest music, potent spellbinder, +to a hungry Fox, and he turned like a flash. For a moment he stood, +head erect, full of poise and force in curb; a second squeak--he came +slowly back toward the sound and in so doing passed between Yan and +the Rabbit. He had crossed its old trail without feeling much +interest, but now the breeze brought its _body scent_. Instantly the +Fox gave up the Mouse hunt--no hunter goes after Mice when big game is +at hand--and began an elaborate and beautiful stalk of the Rabbit--the +Rabbit that he had not seen. But his nose was his best guide. He +cautiously zigzagged up the wind, picking his steps with the greatest +care, and pointing with his nose like a Pointer Dog. Each step was +bringing him nearer to Bunny as it slept or seemed asleep in the +tussock. Yan wondered whether he ought not to shout out and end the +stalk before the Rabbit was caught, but as a naturalist he was eager +to see the whole thing out and learn how the Fox would make the +capture. The red-furred gentleman was now within fifteen feet of the +tussock and still the gray one moved not. Now he was within twelve +feet--and no move; ten feet--and Bunny seemed in tranquil sleep; eight +feet--and now the Fox for the first time seemed to actually see his +victim. Yan had hard work to keep from shouting a warning; six +feet--and now the Fox was plainly preparing for a final spring. + +"Is it right to let him?" and Yan's heart beat with excitement. + +The Fox brought his feet well under him, tried the footing till it +was perfect, gathered all his force, then with silent, vicious energy +sprung straight for the sleeper. Sleeping? Oh, no! Not at all. Bunny +was playing his own game. The moment the Fox leaped, he leaped with +equal vigour the opposite way and out under his enemy, so Reynard +landed on the empty bunch of grass. Again he sprang, but the Rabbit +had rebounded like a ball in the other direction, and continued this +bewildering succession of marvellous erratic hops. The Fox in vain +tried to keep up, for these wonderful side jumps are the Rabbit's +strength and the Fox's weakness; and Bunny went zigzag--hop--skip-- +into the thicket and was gone before the Fox could get his heavier +body under speed at all. + +Had the Rabbit bounded out as soon as he saw the Fox coming he might +have betrayed himself unnecessarily; had he gone straight away when +the Fox leaped for him he might have been caught in three or four +leaps, for the enemy was under full speed, but by biding his time he +had courted no danger, and when it did come he had played the only +possible offset, and "lives in the greenwood still." + +The Fox had to seek his supper somewhere else, and Yan went to camp +happy in having learned another of the secrets of the woods. + + + + +XII + +Indian Signs And Getting Lost + + +"What do you mean when you say Indian signs, Mr. Clark?" + +"Pretty near anything that shows there's Injuns round: a moccasin +track, a smell of smoke, a twig bent, a village, one stone a-top of +another or a white settlement scalped and burned--they all are Injun +signs. They all mean something, and the Injuns read them an' make +them, too, jest as you would writing." + +"You remember the other day you told us three smokes meant you were +coming back with scalps." + +"Well, no; it don't har'ly mean that. It means 'Good news'--that is, +with some tribes. Different tribes uses 'em different." + +"Well, what does one smoke mean?" + +"As a rule just simply '_Camp is here_'" + +"And two smokes?" + +"Two smokes means '_Trouble_'--may mean, _'I am lost.'_" + +"I'll remember that; _double for trouble_." + +"Three means good news. _There's luck in odd numbers_." + +"And what is four?" + +"Well, it ain't har'ly ever used. If I seen four smokes in camp I'd +know _something big_ was on--maybe a Grand Council." + +"Well, if you saw five smokes what would you think?" + +"I'd think some blame fool was settin' the hull place a-blaze," Caleb +replied with the sniff end of a laugh. + +"Just now you said one stone on another was a sign. What does it +mean?" + +"Course I can't speak for all Injuns. Some has it for one thing an' +some for another, but usually in the West two stones or 'Buffalo +chips' settin' one on the other means 'This is the trail'; and a +little stone at the left of the two would mean 'Here we turned off to +the left'; and at the other side, 'Here we turned to the right.' Three +stones settin' one on top of another means, 'This is sure enough the +trail,' 'Special' or 'Particular' or 'Look out'; an' a pile of stones +just throwed together means 'We camped here 'cause some one was sick.' +They'd be the stones used for giving the sick one a steam bath." + +"Well, what would they do if there were no stones?" + +"Ye mean in the woods?" + +"Yes, or smooth prairie." + +"Well, I pretty near forget, it's so long ago, but le's see now," and +Yan worried Caleb and Caleb threshed his memory till they got out a +general scheme, or Indian code, though Caleb was careful to say that +"some Injuns done it differently." + +[Illustration: INDIAN SIGNS] + +Yan must needs set about making a signal fire at once, and was +disappointed to find that a hundred yards away the smoke could not be +seen above the tree-tops, till Caleb showed him the difference between +a clear fire and a smoke or smudge fire. + +"Begin with a clear fire to get the heat, then smother it with green +grass and rotten wood. There, now you see the difference," and a great +crooked, angling pillar of smoke rolled upward as soon as the grass +and punk began to sizzle in the glow of embers. + +"I bet ye kin see that ten miles away if ye'r on a high place to look +for it." + +"I bet I could see it twenty miles," chirped in Guy. + +"Mr. Clark, were you ever lost?" continued the tireless asker. + +"Why, course I was, an' more than once. Every one that goes in the +woods is bound to get lost once in awhile." + +"What--do the Indians?" + +"Of course! Why not? They're human, an' I tell you when you hear a man +brag that he never was lost, I know he never was far from his mother's +apron string. Every one is bound to get lost, but the real woodsman +gets out all right; that's the difference." + +"Well, what would you do if you got lost?" + +"Depends on where. If it was a country that I didn't know, and I had +friends in camp, after I'd tried my best I'd jest set right down and +make two smoke fires. 'Course, if I was alone I'd try to make a bee +line in the likeliest direction, an' this is easy to make if ye kin +see the sun and stars, but stormy weather 'tain't possible. No man kin +do it, an' if ye don't know the country ye have to follow some stream; +but I'm sorry for ye if ever ye have to do that, for it's the worst +walking on earth. It will surely bring ye out some place--that is, it +will keep ye from walking in a circle--but ye can't make more than +four or five miles a day on it." + +[Illustration: "The Two Smokes"] + +"Can't you get your direction from moss on the tree trunks?" + +"_Naw!_ Jest try it an' see; moss on the north side of a tree +and rock; biggest branches on the south of a trunk; top of a Hemlock +pointing to east; the biggest rings of growth on the south side of +a stump, an' so on. It fits a tree standin' out by itself in the +open--the biggest ring is in the south, but it don't fit a tree on the +south side of an opening; then the biggest rings is on the north. If +ye have a compass in hand it's all kind o' half true--that is, just +a little bit true; but it ain't true; it's on'y a big lie, when ye'r +scared out o' your wits an' needin' to know. I never seen but one good +compass plant, an' that was the prairie Golden Rod. Get a bunch of +them in the open and the most of them point north, but under cover of +taller truck they jest point every which way for Sunday. + +"If ye find a beaten game trail, ye follow that an it'll bring ye to +water--that is, if ye go the right way, an' that ye know by its gettin' +stronger. If it's peterin' out, ye'r goin' in the wrong direction. A +flock of Ducks or a Loon going over is sure to be pointing for water. +Y're safe to follow. + +"If ye have a Dog or a Horse with ye he kin bring ye home all right. +Never knew them to fail but oncet, an' that was a fool Horse; there is +sech oncet in awhile, though there's more fool Dogs. + +"But come right down to it, the compass is the safest thing. The sun +and stars is next, an' if ye know your friends will come ye'r best +plan is to set right down and make two smoke fires, keep them a-going, +holler every little while, and keep calm. Ye won't come to no harm +unless ye'r a blame fool, an' such ought to stay to hum, where they'll +be nursed." + + + + +XIII + +Tanning Skins and Making Moccasins + + +Sam had made a find. A Calf had been killed and its skin hung limp on +a beam in the barn. His father allowed him to carry this off, and now +he appeared with a "fresh Buffalo hide to make a robe." + +"I don't know how the Injuns dress their robes," he explained, +"but Caleb does, and he'll tell you, and, of course, I'll pay no +attention." + +The old Trapper had nothing to do, and the only bright spots in his +lonely life, since his own door was shut in his face, were visits +to the camp. These had become daily, so it was taken as a matter of +course when, within an hour after Sam's return, he "happened round." + +"How do the Indians tan furs and robes?" Yan asked at once. + +"Wall, different ways--" + +But before he could say more Hawkeye reappeared and shouted: + +"Say, boys, Paw's old Horse died!" and he grinned joyfully, merely +because he was the bearer of news. + +"Sappy, you grin so much your back teeth is gettin' sunburned," and +the Head Chief eyed him sadly. + +"Well, it's so, an' I'm going to skin out his tail for a scalp. I bet +I'll be the Injunest one of the crowd." + +"Why don't you skin the hull thing, an' I'll show you how to make lots +of Injun things of the hide," Caleb added, as he lighted his pipe. + +"Will you help me? + +"It's same as skinnin a Calf. I'll show you where to get the sewing +sinew after the hide's off." + +So the whole camp went to Burns's field. Guy hung back and hid when he +saw his father there drawing the dead Horse away with the plough team. + +"Good-day, Jim," was Caleb's greeting, for they were good friends. +"Struck hard luck with the Horse?" + +"No! Not much. Didn't cost nothing; got him for boot in a swap. Glad +he's dead, for he was foundered." + +"We want his skin, if you don't." + +"You're welcome to the hull thing." + +"Well, just draw it over by the line fence we'll bury what's left when +we're through." + +"All right. You hain't seen that durn boy o' mine, have you?" + +"Why, yes; I seen him not long ago," said Sam. "He was p'inting right +for home then." + +"H-m. Maybe I'll find him at the house." + +"Maybe you will." Then Sam added under his breath, "I don't think." + +So Burns left them, and a few minutes later Guy sneaked out of the +woods to take a secondary part in the proceedings. + +Caleb showed them how to split the skin along the under side of each +leg and up the belly. It was slow work skinning, but not so unpleasant +as Yan feared, since the animal was fresh. + +Caleb did the most of the work; Sam and Yan helped. Guy assisted with +reminiscences of his own Calf-skinning and with suggestions drawn from +his vast experiences. + +When the upper half of the skin was off, Caleb remarked: "Don't +believe we can turn him over, and when the Injuns didn't have a Horse +at hand to turn over the Buffalo they used to cut the skin in two down +the line of the back. I guess we better do that. We've got all the +rawhide we need, anyhow." + +So they cut off the half they had skinned, took the tail and the mane +for "scalps," and then Caleb sent Yan for the axe and a pail. + +He cut out a lump of liver and the brains of the Horse. "That," said +he, "is for tanning, an' here is where the Injun woman gits her sewing +thread." + +He made a deep cut alongside the back bone from the middle of the back +to the loin, then forcing his fingers under a broad band of whitish +fibrous tissue, he raised it up, working and cutting till it ran down +to the hip bone and forward to the ribs. This sewing sinew was about +four inches wide, very thin, and could easily be split again and again +till it was like fine thread. + +"There," he said, "is a hank o' thread. Keep that. It'll dry up, but +can be split at any time, and soaking in warm water for twenty minutes +makes it soft and ready for use. Usually, when she's sewing, the squaw +keeps a thread soaking in her mouth to be ready. Now we've got a Horse +skin and a Calfskin I guess we better set up a tan-yard." + +"Well, how do you tan furs, Mr. Clark?" + +"Good many different ways. Sometimes just scrape and scrape till I get +all the grease and meat off the inside, then coat it with alum and +salt and leave it rolled up for a couple of days till the alum has +struck through and made the skin white at the roots of the hair, then +when this is half dry pull and work it till it is all soft. + +"But the Injuns don't have alum and salt, and they make a fine tan out +of the liver and brains, like I'm going to do with this." + +"Well, I want to do it the Indian way." + +"All right, you take the brains and liver of your Calf." + +"Why not some of the Horse brains and liver?" + +"Oh, I dunno. They never do it that way that I've seen. Seems like it +went best with its own brains." + +"Now," remarked the philosophical Woodpecker, "I call that a wonderful +provision of nature, always to put Calf brains and liver into a +Calfskin, and just enough to tan it." + +"First thing always is to clean your pelt, and while you do that I'll +put the Horsehide in the mud to soak off the hair." He put it in the +warm mud to soak there a couple of days, just as he had done the +Calfskin for the drum-heads, then came to superintend the dressing of +the Buffalo "robe." + +Sam first went home for the Calf brains and liver, then he and Yan +scraped the skin till they got out a vast quantity of grease, leaving +the flesh side bluish-white and clammy, but not greasy to the touch. +The liver of the Calf was boiled for an hour and then mashed up with +the raw brains into a tanning "dope" or mash and spread on the flesh +side of the hide, which was doubled, rolled up and put in a cool place +for two days. It was then opened out, washed clean in the brook and +hung till nearly dry. Then Caleb cut a hardwood stake to a sharp edge +and showed Yan how to pull and work the hide over the edge till it was +all soft and leathery. + +The treatment of the Horsehide was the same, once the hair was +removed, but the greater thickness needed a longer soaking in the "tan +dope." + +After two days the Trapper scraped it clean and worked it on the +sharp-edged stake. It soon began to look like leather, except in one +or two spots. On examining these he said: + +"H-m, Tanning didn't strike right through every place. So he buttered +it again with the mash and gave it a day more; then worked it as +before over the angle of the pole till it was soft and fibrous. + +"There," said he, "that's Injun tan leather. I have seen it done by +soaking the hide for a few days in liquor made by boiling Hemlock or +Balsam bark in water till it's like brown ink, but it ain't any better +than that. Now it needs one thing more to keep it from hardening after +being wet. It has to be smoked." + +So he made a smoke fire by smothering a clear fire with rotten wood; +then fastening the Horsehide into a cone with a few wooden pins, he +hung it in the dense smoke for a couple of hours, first one side out, +then the other till it was all of a rich smoky-tan colour and had the +smell so well known to those who handle Indian leather. + +"There it is; that's Injun tan, an' I hope you see that elbow grease +is the main thing in tannin'." + +"Now, will you show us how to make moccasins and war-shirts?" asked +Little Beaver, with his usual enthusiasm. + +"Well, the moccasins is easy, but I won't promise about the +war-shirts. That's pretty much a case of following the pattern of your +own coat, with the front in one piece, but cut down just far enough +for your head to go through, instead of all the way, and fixed with +tie-strings at the throat and fringes at the seams and at the bottom; +it hain't easy to do. But any one kin larn to make moccasins. There is +two styles of them--that is, two main styles. Every Tribe has its own +make, and an Injun can tell what language another speaks as soon as +he sees his footgear. The two best known are the Ojibwa, with soft +sole--sole and upper all in one, an' a puckered instep--that's what +Ojibwa means--'puckered moccasin.' The other style is the one most +used in the Plains. You see, they have to wear a hard sole, 'cause the +country is full of cactus and thorns as well as sharp stones." + +"I want the Sioux style. We have copied their teepee and war +bonnet--and the Sioux are the best Indians, anyway." + +"Or the worst, according to what side you're on," was Caleb's reply. +But he went on: "Sioux Injuns are Plains Injuns and wear a hard sole. +Let's see, now. I'll cut you a pair." + +"No, make them for _me_. It's my Horse," said Guy. + +"No, you don't. Your Paw give that to me." Caleb's tone said plainly +that Guy's laziness had made a bad impression, so he had to stand +aside while Yan was measured. Caleb had saved a part of the hide +untanned though thoroughly cleaned. This was soaked in warm water till +soft. Yan's foot was placed on it and a line drawn around the foot +for a guide; this when cut out made the sole of one moccasin (A, cut +below), and by turning it underside up it served as pattern to cut the +other. + +Now Caleb measured the length of the foot and added one inch, and +the width across the instep, adding half an inch, and with these as +greatest length and breadth cut out a piece of soft leather (B). Then +in this he made the cut _a b_ on the middle line one way and _c +d_ on the middle line the other way. A second piece the reverse of +this was cut, and next a piece of soft leather for inside tongue (C) +was sewn to the large piece (B), so that the edge _a b_ of C was +fast to _a b_ of B. A second piece was sewn to the other leather +(B reversed). + +"Them's your vamps for uppers. Now's the time to bead 'em if you want +to." + +"Don't know how." + +"Well, I can't larn you that; that's a woman's work. But I kin show +you the pattern of the first pair I ever wore; I ain't likely to +forget 'em, for I killed the Buffalo myself and seen the hull making." +He might have added that he subsequently married the squaw, but he did +not. + +"There's about the style" [D]. "Them three-cornered red and white +things all round is the hills where the moccasins was to carry me +safely; on the heel is a little blue pathway with nothing in it: that +is behind--it's past. On the instep is three red, white and blue +pathways where the moccasin was to take me: they're ahead--in the +future. Each path has lots of things in it, mostly changes and trails, +an' all three ends in an Eagle feather--that stands for an honour. Ye +kin paint them that way after they're made. Well, now, we'll sew on +the upper with a good thick strand of sinew in the needle--or if you +have an awl you kin do without a needle on a pinch--and be sure to +bring the stitches out the edge of the sole instead of right through, +then they don't wear off. That's the way." [E.] + +So they worked away, clumsily, while Guy snickered and sizzled, and +Sam suggested that Si Lee would make a better squaw than both of them. + +The sole as well as the upper being quite soft allowed them to turn +the moccasin inside out as often as they liked--and they did like; it +seemed necessary to reverse it every few minutes. But at length the +two pieces were fastened together all around, the seam gap at the heel +was quickly sewn up, four pairs of lace holes were made (_a, b, c, +d_, in D), and an eighteen-inch strip of soft leather run through +them for a lace. + +Now Yan painted the uppers with his Indian paints in the pattern that +Caleb had suggested, and the moccasins were done. + +A squaw would have made half a dozen good pairs while Yan and Caleb +made the one poor pair, but she would not have felt so happy about it. + + + + +XIV + +Caleb's Philosophy + + +The tracks of Mink appeared from time to time on Yan's creekside mud +albums, and at length another of these tireless watchers, placed at +the Wakan Rock, reported to him that Mink as well as Skunks came there +now for a nightly feast. + +The Mink was a large one, judging by the marks, and Caleb was asked to +help in trapping it. + +"How do you trap Mink, Mr. Clark?" was the question. + +"Don't trap 'em at all this time o' year, for they're no good till +October," was the answer. + +"Well, how do you trap them when they are in season?" + +"Oh, different ways." + +It was slow work, but Yan kept on and at length got the old man going. + +"Airly days we always used a deadfall for Mink. That's made like this, +with a bird or a Partridge head for bait. That kills him sure, sudden +and merciful. Then if it's cold weather he freezes and keeps O.K. +till you come around to get him; but in warm weather lots o' pelts are +spoiled by being kept too long, so ye have to go round pretty often +to save all you kill. Then some one brought in them new-fangled steel +traps that catches them by the foot and holds them for days and days, +some times, till they jest starve to death or chaw their foot off to +get free. I mind once I ketched a Mink with only two legs left. He had +been in a steel trap twice before and chawed off his leg to get +away. Them traps save the trapper going round so often, but they're +expensive, and heavy to carry, and you have got to be awful +hard-hearted before ye kin use 'em. I tell ye, when I thought of all +the sufferin' that Mink went through it settled me for steel traps. +Since then, says I, if ye must trap, use a deadfall or a ketchalive, +one or other; no manglin' an' tormentin' for days. I tell ye that thar +new Otter trap that grabs them in iron claws ought to be forbid by +law; it ain't human. + +"Same way about huntin'. Huntin's great sport, an' it can't be bad, +'cause I can't for the life of me see that it makes men bad. 'Pears +to me men as hunt is humaner than them as is above it; as for the +cruelty--wall, we know that no wild animal dies easy abed. They all +get killed soon or late, an' if it's any help to man to kill them I +reckon he has as good a right to do it as Wolves an' Wildcats. It +don't hurt any more--yes, a blame sight less--to be killed by a rifle +ball than to be chawed by Wolves. The on'y thing I says is don't do +it cruel--an' don't wipe out the hull bunch. If ye never kill a thing +that's no harm to ye 'live an' no good to ye dead nor more than the +country kin stand, 'pears to me ye won't do much harm, an' ye'll have +a lot o' real fun to think about afterward. + +"But I mind a feller from Europe, some kind o' swell, that I was +guidin' out West. He had crippled a Deer so it couldn't get away. Then +he sat down to eat lunch right by, and every few moments he'd fire a +shot into some part or another, experimentin' an' aimin' not to kill +it for awhile. I heard the shootin' an' blattin', an when I come up I +tell ye it set my blood a-boilin'. I called him some names men don't +like, an' put that Deer out o' pain quick as I could pull trigger. +That bu'st up our party--I didn't want no more o' him. He come pretty +near lyin' by the Deer that day. It makes me hot yet when I think of +it. + +"If he'd shot that Deer down runnin' an' killed it as quick as he +could it wouldn't 'a' suffered more than if it had been snagged a +little, 'cause bullets of right weight numb when they hit. The Deer +wouldn't have suffered more than he naturally would at his finish, +maybe less, an' he'd 'a' suffered it at a time when he could be some +good to them as hunted him. An' these yer new repeatin' guns is a +curse. A feller knows he has lots of shot and so blazes away into a +band o' Deer as long as he can see, an lots gets away crippled, to +suffer an' die; but when a feller has only one shot he's going to +place it mighty keerful. Ef it's sport ye want, get a single-shot +rifle, ef it's destruction, get a Gatling-gun. + +"Sport's good, but I'm agin this yer wholesale killin' an' cruelty. +Steel traps, light-weight bullets an' repeatin' guns ain't human. I +tell ye it's them as makes all the sufferin'." + +This was a long speech for Caleb, but it was really less connected +than here given. Yan had to keep him going with occasional questions. +This he followed up. + +"What do you think about bows and arrows, Mr. Clark?" + +"I wouldn't like to use them on big game like Bear and Deer, but I'd +be glad if shotguns was done away with and small game could be killed +only with arrows. They are either sure death or clear miss. There's no +cripples to get away and die. You can't fire an arrow into a flock of +birds and wipe out one hundred, like you can with one of them blame +scatterguns. It's them things that is killing off all the small game. +Some day they'll invent a scattergun that is a pump repeater like them +new rifles, and when every fool has one they'll wonder where all the +small game has gone to. + +"No, sir, I'm agin them. Bows and arrows is less destructful an' calls +for more Woodcraft an' give more sport--that is, for small game. +Besides, they don't make that awful racket, an' you know who is the +party that owns the shot, for every arrow is marked." + +Yan was sorry that Caleb did not indorse the arrow for big game, too. + +The Trapper was well started now; he seemed ready enough with +information to-day, and Yan knew enough to "run the rapids on the +freshet." + +"How do you make a ketchalive?" + +"What for?" + +"Oh, Mink." + +"They ain't fit to catch now, and the young ones need the mothers." + +"I wouldn't keep it. I only want to make a drawing." + +"Guess that won't harm it if you don't keep it too long. Have ye any +boards? We used to chop the whole thing out of a piece of Balsam wood +or White Pine, but the more stuff ye find ready-made the easier it is. +Now I'll show you how to make a ketchalive if ye'll promise me never +to miss a day going to it while it is set." + +The boys did not understand how any one could miss a day in visiting a +place of so much interest, and readily promised. + +So they made a ketchalive, or box-trap, two feet long, using hay wire +to make a strong netting at one end. + +"Now," said the trapper, "that will catch Mink, Muskrat, Skunk, +Rabbit--'most anything, 'cording to where you put it and how you bait +it." + +"Seems to me the Wakan Rock will be a good place to try." + +So the trap was baited with a fish head firmly lashed on the wire +trigger. + +In the morning, as Yan approached, he saw that it was sprung. A +peculiar whining and scratching came from it and he shouted in great +excitement: "Boys, boys, I've got him! I've got the Mink!" + +They seized the trap and held it cautiously up for the sunlight to +shine through the bars, and there saw to their disgust that they had +captured only the old gray Cat. As soon as the lid was raised she +bounded away, spitting and hissing, no doubt to hurry home to tell the +Kittens that it was all right, although she had been away so long. + + + + +XV + +A Visit from Raften + + +"Sam, I must have another note-book. It's no good getting up a new +'massacree' of Whites, 'cause there ain't any note-books there, but +maybe your father would get one the next time he drove to Downey's +Dump. I suppose I'll have to go on a peace party to ask him." + +Sam made no answer, but looked and listened out toward the trail, then +said: "Talk of the er--Angels, here comes Da." + +When the big man strode up Yan and Guy became very shy and held back. +Sam, in full war-paint, prattled on in his usual style. + +"Morning, Da; I'm yer kid. Bet ye'r in trouble an' want advice or +something." + +Raften rolled up his pendulous lips and displayed his huge front tusks +in a vast purple-and-yellow grin that set the boys' hearts at ease. + +"Kind o' thought you'd be sick av it before now." + +"Will you let us stay here till we are?" chimed in Sam, then without +awaiting the reply that he did not want, "Say, Da, how long is it +since there was any Deer around here?" + +"Pretty near twenty years, I should say." + +"Well, look at that now," whispered the Woodpecker. + +Raften looked and got quite a thrill for the dummy, half hidden in the +thicket, looked much like a real deer. + +"Don't you want to try a shot?" ventured Yan. + +Raften took the bow and arrow and made such a poor showing that he +returned them with the remark. "Sure a gun's good enough for me," +then, "Ole Caleb been around since?" + +"Old Caleb? I should say so; why, he's our stiddy company." + +"'Pears fonder o'you than he is of me." + +"Say, Da, tell us about that. How do you know it was Caleb shot at +you?" + +"Oh, I don't know it to prove it in a coort o' law, but we quarr'led +that day in town after the Horse trade an' he swore he'd fix me an' +left town. His own stepson, Dick Pogue, stood right by and heard him +say it; then at night when I came along the road by the green bush I +was fired at, an' next day we found Caleb's tobacco pouch and some +letters not far away. That's about all I know, an' all I want to know. +Pogue served him a mean trick about the farm, but that's none o' my +business. I 'spect the old fellow will have to get out an' scratch for +himself pretty soon." + +"He seems kind-hearted," said Yan. + +"Ah, he's got an awful temper, an' when he gets drunk he'd do +anything. Other times he's all right." + +"Well, how is it about the farm?" Sam asked. "Doesn't he own it?" + +"No, I guess not now. I don't r'aly know. I only hear them say. Av +coorse, Saryann ain't his own daughter. She's nowt o' kin, but he has +no one else, and Dick was my hired man--a purty slick feller with his +tongue; he could talk a bird off a bush; but he was a good worker. He +married Sary and persuaded the old man to deed them the place, him to +live in comfort with them to the end of his days. But once they got +the place, 'twas aisy to see that Dick meant to get rid o' Caleb, an' +the capsheaf was put last year, about his Dog, old Turk. They wouldn't +have him 'round. They said he was scaring the hens and chasing sheep, +which is like enough, for I believe he killed wan ov my lambs, an' I'd +give ten dollars to have him killed--making sure 'twas him, av coorse. +Rather than give up the Dog, Caleb moved out into the shanty on the +creek at the other end of the place. Things was better then, for Dick +and Saryann let up for awhile an' sent him lots o' flour an' stuff, +but folks say they're fixin' it to put the old man out o' that and get +shet of him for good. But I dunno; it's none o' my business, though he +does blame me for putting Dick up to it." + +"How's the note-book?" as Raften's eye caught sight of the open +sketch-book still in Yan's hand. + +"Oh, that reminds me," was the reply. "But what is this?" He showed +the hoof-mark be had sketched. Raften examined it curiously. + +"H-m, I dunno'; 'pears to me moighty loike a big Buck. But I guess +not; there ain't any left." + +"Say, Da," Sam persisted, "wouldn't you be sore if you was an old man +robbed and turned out?" + +"Av coorse; but I wouldn't lose in a game of swap-horse, an' then go +gunnin' after the feller. If I had owt agin him I'd go an' lick him or +be licked, an' take it all good-natured. Now that's enough. We'll talk +about something else." + +"Will you buy me another note-book next time you go to Downey's Dump? +I don't know how much it will cost or I'd give you the money," said +Yan, praying mentally that it be not more than the five or ten cents +which was all his capital. + +"Shure; I'll charge it up. But ye needn't wait till next week. +Thayer's one back at the White settlement ye can have for nothin'." + +"Say, Mr. Raften," Guy broke in, "I kin lick them all at +Deer-hunting." + +Sam looked at Yan and Yan looked at Sam, then glanced at Guy, made +some perfectly diabolical signs, seized each a long knife and sprung +toward the Third War Chief, but he dodged behind Raften and commenced +his usual "Now you let me 'lone--" + +Raften's eye twinkled. "Shure, I thought ye was all wan Tribe an' +paceable." + +"We've got to suppress crime," retorted his son. + +"Make him let me 'lone," whimpered Sapwood. + +"We'll let ye off this time if ye find that Woodchuck. It's near two +days since we've had a skirmish." + +"All right," and he went. Within five minutes he came running back, +beckoning. The boys got their bows and arrows, but fearing a trick +they held back. Guy dashed for his own weapons with unmistakable and +reassuring zest; then all set out for the field. Raften followed, +after asking if it would be safe for him to come along. + +The grizzly old Woodchuck was there feeding in a bunch of clover. The +boys sneaked under the fence, crawling through the grass in true Injun +fashion, till the Woodchuck stood up to look around, then they lay +still; when he went down they crawled again, and all got within forty +yards. Now the old fellow seemed suspicious, so Sam said, "Next time +he feeds we all fire together." As soon, then, as the Woodchuck's +breast was replaced by the gray back, the boys got partly up and +fired. The arrows whizzed around Old Grizzly, but all missed, and he +had scrambled to his hole before they could send a second volley. + +"Hallo, why didn't you hit him, Sappy?" + +"I'll bet I do next time." + +When they returned to Raften he received them with ridicule. + +"But ye'r a poor lot o' hunters. Ye'd all starve if it wasn't for the +White settlement nearby. Faith, if ye was rale Injun ye'd sit up all +night at that hole till he come out in the morning: then ye'd get him; +an' when ye get through with that one I've got another in the high +pasture ye kin work on." + +So saying, he left them, and Sam called after him: + +"Say, Da; where's that note-book for Yan? He's the Chief of the +'coup-tally,' and I reckon he'll soon have a job an' need his book. I +feel it in my bones." + +"I'll lave it on yer bed." Which he did, and Yan and Sam had the +pleasure of lifting it out of the window with a split stick. + + + + +XVI + +How Yan Knew the Ducks Afar + + +One day as the great Woodpecker lay on his back in the shade he said +in a tone of lofty command: + +"Little Beaver, I want to be amused. Come hyar. Tell me a story." + +"How would you like a lesson in Tutnee?" was the Second Chief's +reply, but he had tried this before, and he found neither Sam nor Guy +inclined to take any interest in the very dead language. + +"Tell me a story, I said," was the savage answer of the scowling and +ferocious Woodpecker. + +"All right," said Little Beaver. "I'll tell you a story of such a fine +boy--oh, he was the noblest little hero that ever wore pantaloons or +got spanked in school. Well, this boy went to live in the woods, and +he wanted to get acquainted with all the living wild things. He found +lots of difficulties and no one to help him, but he kept on and +on--oh! he was so noble and brave--and made notes, and when he learned +anything new he froze on to it like grim death. By and by he got a +book that was some help, but not much. It told about some of the birds +as if you had them _in your hand_. But this heroic youth only saw +them at a distance and he was stuck. One day he saw a wild Duck on a +pond so far away he could only see some spots of colour, but he made +a sketch of it, and later he found out from that rough sketch that it +was a Whistler, and then this wonderful boy had an idea. All the +Ducks are different; all have little blots and streaks that are their +labels, or like the uniforms of soldiers. 'Now, if I can put their +uniforms down on paper I'll know the Ducks as soon as I see them on a +pond a long way off.' So he set to work and drew what he could +find. One of his friends had a stuffed Wood-duck, so the +'Boy-that-wanted-to-know' drew that from a long way off. He got +another from an engraving and two more from the window of a +taxidermist shop. But he knew perfectly well that there are twenty or +thirty different kinds of Ducks, for he often saw others at a distance +and made far-sketches, hoping some day he'd find out what they were. +Well, one day the 'Boy-that-wanted-to-know' sketched a new Duck on a +pond, and he saw it again and again, but couldn't find out what it +was, and there was his b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l sketch, but no one to tell +him its name, so when he saw that he just had to go into the teepee +and steal the First War Chief's last apple and eat it to hide his +emotion." + +Here Yan produced an apple and began to eat it with an air of sadness. + +Without changing a muscle, the Great Woodpecker continued the tale: + +"Then when the First War Chief heard the harrowing tale of a blighted +life, he said: 'Shucks, I didn't want that old apple. It was fished +out of the swill-barrel anyway, but 'pears to me when a feller sets +out to do a thing an' don't he's a 'dumb failure,' which ain't much +difference from a 'durn fool.' + +"Now, if this heroic youth had had gumption enough to come out +flat-footed, an' instead of stealing rotten apples that the pigs has +walked on, had told his trouble to the Great Head War Chief, that +native-born noble Red-man would 'a' said: 'Sonny, quite right. When in +doubt come to Grandpa. You want to get sharp on Duck. Ugh! Good'--then +he'd 'a' took that simple youth to Downey's Hotel at Downey's Dump an' +there showed him every kind o' Duck that ever was born, an' all tagged +an' labelled. Wah! I have spoken." + +And the Great Woodpecker scowled ferociously at Guy, who was vainly +searching his face for a clue, not sure but what this whole thing was +some subtle mockery. But Yan had been on the lookout for this. Sam's +face throughout had shown nothing but real and growing interest. The +good sense of this last suggestion was evident, and the result was an +expedition was formed at once for Downey's Dump, a little town five +miles away, where the railroad crossed a long bog on the Skagbog +River. Here Downey, the contractor, had carried the railroad dump +across a supposed bottomless morass and by good luck had soon made +a bottom and in consequence a small fortune, with which he built a +hotel, and was now the great man of the town for which he had done so +much. + +"Guess we'll leave the Third War Chief in charge of camp," said Sam, +"an' I think we ought to go disguised as Whites." + +"You mean to go back to the Settlement and join the Whites?" + +"Yep, an' take a Horse an' buggy, too. It's five miles." + +That was a jarring note. Yan's imagination had pictured a foot +expedition through the woods, but this was more sensible, so he +yielded. + +They went to the house to report and had a loving reception from +the mother and little Minnie. The men were away. The boys quickly +harnessed a Horse and, charged also with some commissions from the +mother, they drove to Downey's Dump. + +On arriving they went first to the livery-stable to put up the horse, +then to the store, where Sam delivered his mother's orders, and having +made sure that Yan had pencil, paper and rubber, they went into +Downey's. Yan's feelings were much like those of a country boy going +for the first time to a circus--now he is really to see the things he +has dreamed of so long; now all heaven is his. + +And, curiously enough, he was not disappointed. Downey was a rough, +vigorous business man. He took no notice of the boys beyond a brief +"Morning, Sam," till he saw that Yan was making very fair sketches. +All the world loves an artist, and now there was danger of too much +assistance. + +The cases could not be opened, but were swung around and shades +raised to give the best light. Yan went at once to the bird he +had "far-sketched" on the pond. To his surprise, it was a female +Wood-duck. He put in the whole afternoon drawing those Ducks, male +and female, and as Downey had more than fifty specimens Yan felt like +Aladdin in the Fairy Garden--overpowered with abundance of treasure. +The birds were fairly well labelled with the popular names, and Yan +brought away a lot of sketches, which made him very happy. These he +afterward carefully finished and put together in a Duck Chart that +solved many of his riddles about the Common Duck. + + + * * * * * + + [Illustration: The Fish-Ducks, Sawbills, or Mergansers] + + [Illustration: The River Ducks] + + (See description below.) + + + Far-sketches showing common Ducks as seen on the water at about 50 + yards distance. The pair is shown in each square, the male above. + + N.B. The wings are rarely seen when the bird is swimming. + + + THE FISH-DUCK, SAWBILLS OR MERGANSERS + + Largely white and all are crested, wings with large white areas in + flight. + + 1. The Shelldrake or Goosander (_Merganser americanus_). + Bill, feet and eye red. + + 2. The Sawbill or Red-breasted Merganser (_Merganser + serrator_). Bill and feet red. + + 3. Hooded Merganser (_Lophodytes cucullatus_). Bill and feet + dark, paddle-box buff. + + + THE RIVER DUCKS + + The males usually with shining green and black on head and wings, + the females streaky gray-brown. + + 4. Mallard _(Anas boschas_). Red feet; male has pale, + greenish bill. Known in flight by white tail feathers and thin + white bar on wing. + + 5. Black Duck or Dusky Duck (_Anas obscura_). Dark bill, red + feet, no white except in flight, then shows white lining of wings. + + 6. Gadwall or Gray Duck (_Anas strepera_). Beak + flesh-coloured on edges, feet reddish, a white spot on wing + showing in flight. + + 7. Widgeon or Baldpate (_A. americana_). Bill and feet dull + blue; a large white spot on wing in flight; female has sides + reddish. + + 8. Green-winged Teal (_A. carolinensis_). Bill and feet dark. + + 9. Blue-winged Teal (_A. discors_). Bill and feet dark. + + 10. Shoveller (_Spatula clypeata_). Bill dark, feet red, eye + yellow-orange; a white patch on wings showing in flight + + 11. Pintail or Sprigtail (_Dafila acuta_). Bill and feet dull + blue. + + 12. Wood Duck or Summer Duck (_Aix sponsa_). Bill of male + red, paddle-box buff, bill of female and feet of both dark. + + +[Illustration: The Sea Ducks] + + +THE SEA DUCKS + + Chiefly black and white in colour; the female brownish instead of + black; most have yellow or orange eye, and more or less white on + wings which does not show as they swim. + + 13. Red-head (_Aythya americana_). Head and neck bright red; + eye of male yellow, bill and feet blue. + + 14. Canvasback (_A. vallisneria_). Head and neck dark-red, + eye of male red, bill and feet of both dark or bluish. + + 15. Ring-necked Bluebill (_A. collaria_). Bill and feet + bluish. + + 16. Big Bluebill (_A. marila_). Bill and feet bluish. + + 17. Little Bluebill (_A. affinis_). Same colour as the + preceding. + + 18. Whistler or Goldeneye (_Clangula clangula americana_). + Feet orange. + + 19. Bufflehead or Butterball (_Charitonetta albeola_). + + 20. Old-Squaw or Longtail (_Harelda hyemalis_). This is its + winter plumage, in which it is mostly seen. + + 21. Black Scoter (_Oidemia americana_). A jet-black Duck with + orange bill; no white on it anywhere. + + 22. White-winged Scoter (_O. deglandi_). A black Duck with + white on cheek and wing; feet and bill orange; much white on wing + shows as they fly, sometimes none as they swim. + + 23. Surf Duck or Sea Coot (_O. perspicillata_). A black Duck + with white on head, but none on wings: bill and feet orange. + + 24. Ruddy Duck or Stiff-tailed Duck (_Erismatura + jamaicensis_). Bill and feet bluish; male is in general a dull + red with white face. + + * * * * * + +When they got back to camp at dusk they found a surprise. On the +trail was a white thing, which on investigation proved to be a ghost, +evidently made by Guy. The head was a large puff-ball carved like a +skull, and the body a newspaper. + +But the teepee was empty. Guy probably felt too much reaction after +the setting up of the ghost to sit there alone in the still night. + + + + +XVII + +Sam's Woodcraft Exploit + + +Sam's "long suit," as he put it, was axemanship. He was remarkable +even in this land of the axe, and, of course, among the "Injuns" he +was a marvel. Yan might pound away for half an hour at some block that +he was trying to split and make no headway, till Sam would say, "Yan, +hit it right there," or perhaps take the axe and do it for him; then +at one tap the block would fly apart. There was no rule for this happy +hit. Sometimes it was above the binding knot, sometimes beside it, +sometimes right in the middle of it, and sometimes in the end of the +wood away from the binder altogether--often at the unlikeliest places. +Sometimes it was done by a simple stroke, sometimes a glancing stroke, +sometimes with the grain or again angling, and sometimes a compound of +one or more of each kind of blow; but whatever was the right stroke, +Sam seemed to know it instinctively and applied it to exactly the +right spot, the only spot where the hard, tough log was open to +attack, and rarely failed to make it tumble apart as though it were a +trick got ready beforehand. He did not brag about it. He simply took +it for granted that he was the master of the art, and as such the +others accepted him. + +On one occasion Yan, who began to think he now had some skill, was +whacking away at a big, tough stick till he had tried, as he thought, +every possible combination and still could make no sign of a crack. +Then Guy insisted on "showing him how," without any better result. + +"Here, Sam," cried Yan, "I'll bet this is a baffler for you." + +Sam turned the stick over, selected a hopeless-looking spot, one as +yet not touched by the axe, set the stick on end, poured a cup of +water on the place, then, when that had soaked in, he struck with all +his force a single straight blow at the line where the grain spread to +embrace the knot. The aim was true to a hair and the block flew open. + +"Hooray!" shouted Little Beaver in admiration. + +"Pooh!" said Sapwood. "That was just chance. He couldn't do that +again." + +"Not to the same stick!" retorted Yan. He recognized the consummate +skill and the cleverness of knowing that the cup of water was just +what was needed to rob the wood of its spring and turn the balance. + +But Guy continued contemptuously, "I had it started for him." + +"_I_ think that should count a _coup_," said Little Beaver. + +"Coup nothin'," snorted the Third War Chief, in scorn. "I'll give you +something to do that'll try if you can chop. Kin you chop a six-inch +tree down in three minutes an' throw it up the wind ?" + +"What kind o' tree?" asked the Woodpecker. + +"Oh, any kind." + +"I'll bet you five dollars I kin cut down a six-inch White Pine in two +minutes an' throw it any way I want to. You pick out the spot for me +to lay it. Mark it with a stake an' I'll drive the stake." + +"I don't think any of the Tribe has five dollars to bet. If you can do +it we'll give you a grand coup feather," answered Little Beaver. + +"No spring pole," said Guy, eager to make it impossible. + +"All right," replied the Woodpecker; "I'll do it without using a +spring pole." + +So he whetted up his axe, tried the lower margin of the head, found it +was a trifle out of the true--that is, its under curve centred, not on +the handle one span down, but half an inch out from the handle. A nail +driven into the point of the axe-eye corrected this and the chiefs +went forth to select a tree. A White Pine that measured roughly six +inches through was soon found, and Sam was allowed to clear away the +brush around it. Yan and Guy now took a stout stake and, standing +close to the tree, looked up the trunk. Of course, every tree in the +woods leans one way or another, and it was easy to see that this +leaned slightly southward. What wind there was came from the north, so +Yan decided to set the stake due north. + +Sam's little Japanese eyes twinkled. But Guy who, of course, knew +something of chopping, fairly exploded with scorn. "Pooh! What do you +know? That's easy; any one can throw it straight up the wind. Give him +a cornering shot and let him try. There, now," and Guy set the stake +off to the north-west. "Now, smarty. Let's see you do that." + +"All right. You'll see me. Just let me look at it a minute." + +Sam walked round the tree, studied its lean and the force of the wind +on its top, rolled up his sleeves, slipped his suspenders, spat on his +palms, and, standing to west of the tree, said _"Ready_." + +Yan had his watch out and shouted "_Go_." + +Two firm, unhasty strokes up on the south side of the tree left a +clean nick across and two inches deep in the middle. The chopper then +stepped forward one pace and on the north-northwesterly side, eighteen +inches lower down than the first cut, after reversing his hands--which +is what few can do--he rapidly chopped a butt-kerf. Not a stroke +was hasty; not a blow went wrong. The first chips that flew were +ten inches long, but they quickly dwindled as the kerf sank in. The +butt-kerf was two-thirds through the tree when Yan called "One minute +up." Sam stopped work, apparently without cause, leaned one hand +against the south side of the tree and gazed unconcernedly up at its +top. + +"Hurry up, Sam. You're losing time!" called his friend. Sam made no +reply. He was watching the wind pushes and waiting for a strong one. +It came--it struck the tree-top. There was an ominous crack, but Sam +had left enough and pushed hard to make sure; as soon as the recoil +began he struck in very rapid succession three heavy strokes, cutting +away all the remaining wood on the west side and leaving only a +three-inch triangle of uncut fibre. All the weight was now northwest +of this. The tree toppled that way, but swung around on the uncut +part; another puff of wind gave help, the swing was lost, the tree +crashed down to the northwest and drove the stake right out of sight +in the ground. + +"Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! One minute and forty-five seconds!" How Yan +did cheer. Sam was silent, but his eyes looked a little less dull and +stupid than usual, and Guy said "Pooh? That's nothin'." + +Yan took out his pocket rule and went to the stump. As soon as he laid +it on, he exclaimed "Seven and one-half inches through where you cut," +and again he had to swing his hat and cheer. + +"Well, old man, you surely did it that time. That's a grand coup if +ever I saw one," and so, notwithstanding Guy's proposal to "leave it +to Caleb," Sam got his grand Eagle feather as Axeman A1 of the Sanger +Indians. + + + + +XVIII + +The Owls and The Night School + + +One night Sam was taking a last look at the stars before turning in. A +Horned Owl had been hooting not far away. + +"_Hoo--hohoo-hoho--hoooooo_." + +And as he looked, what should silently sail to the top of the medicine +pole stuck in the ground twenty yards away but the Owl. + +"Yan! Yan! Give me my bow and arrow, quick. Here's a Cat-Owl--a +chicken stealer, he's fair game." + +"He's only codding you, Yan," said Guy sleepily from his blanket. "I +wouldn't go." + +But Yan rushed out with his own and Sam's weapons. + +Sam fired at the great feathery creature, but evidently missed, for +the Owl spread its wings and sailed away. + +"There goes my best arrow. That was my 'Sure-death.'" + +"Pshaw!" growled Yan, as he noted the miss. "You can't shoot a little +bit." + +But as they stood, there was a fluttering of broad wings, and there, +alighting as before on the medicine pole, was the Owl again. + +"My turn now!" exclaimed Yan in a gaspy whisper. + +He drew his bow, the arrow flew, and the Owl slipped off unharmed as +it had the first time. + +"Yan, you're no good. An easy shot like that. Why, any idiot could hit +that. Why didn't you fetch her?" + +"'Cause I'm not an idiot, I suppose. I hit the same place as you did, +anyway, and drew just as much blood." + +"Ef he comes back again you call me," piped Guy in his shrill voice. +"I'll show you fellers how to shoot. You're no good at all 'thout me. +Why, I mind the time I was Deer-shooting----" but a fierce dash of the +whole Tribe for Sappy's bed put a stop to the reminiscent flow and +replaced it with whines of "Now you let me alone. I ain't doin' +nothin' to you." + +During the night they were again awakened by the screech in the +tree-tops, and Yan, sitting up, said, "Say, boys, that's nothing but +that big Cat Owl." + +"So it is," was Sam's answer; "wonder I didn't think of that before." + +"I did," said Guy; "I knew it all the time." + +In the morning they went out to find their arrows. The medicine pole +was a tall pole bearing a feathered shield, with the tribal totem, a +white Buffalo, which Yan had set up to be in Indian fashion. Sighting +in line from the teepee over this, they walked on, looking far beyond, +for they had learned always to draw the arrow to the head. They +had not gone twenty-five feet before Yan burst out in unutterable +astonishment: "Look! Look at that--and _that_------" + +There on the ground not ten feet apart were two enormous Horned Owls, +both shot fairly through the heart, one with Sam's "Sure-death" arrow, +the other with Yan's "Whistler"; both shots had been true, and the +boys could only say, "Well, if you saw that in print you would say it +was a big lie!" It was indeed one of those amazing things which happen +only in real life, and the whole of the Tribe with one exception voted +a _grand coup_ to each of the hunters. + +Guy was utterly contemptuous. "They got so close they hit by chance +an' didn't know they done it. If he had been shooting," etc., etc., +etc. + +"How about that screech in the tree-tops, Guy?" + +"Errrrh." + +What a fascination the naturalist always finds in a fine Bird. Yan +revelled in these two. He measured their extent of wing and the length +from beak to tail of each. He studied the pattern on their quills; +he was thrilled by their great yellow eyes and their long, powerful +claws, and he loved their every part. He hated to think that in a few +days these wonderful things would be disgusting and fit only to be +buried. + +"I wish I knew hew to stuff them," he said. + +"Why don't you get Si Lee to show you," was Sam's suggestion. "Seems +to me I often seen pictures of Injun medicine men with stuffed birds," +he added shrewdly and happily. + +"Well, that's just what I will do." + +Then arose a knotty question. Should he go to Si Lee and thereby turn +"White" and break the charm of the Indian life, or should he attempt +the task of persuading Si to come down there to work without proper +conveniences. They voted to bring Si to camp. "Da might think we was +backing out." After all, the things needed were easily carried, and +Si, having been ambushed by a scout, consented to come and open a +night-school in taxidermy. + +The tools and things that he brought were a bundle of tow made by +unravelling a piece of rope, some cotton wool, strong linen thread, +two long darning needles, arsenical soap worked up like cream, +corn-meal, some soft iron wire about size sixteen and some of +stovepipe size, a file, a pair of pliers, wire cutters, a sharp knife, +a pair of stout scissors, a gimlet, two ready-made wooden stands, and +last of all a good lamp. The boys hitherto had been content with the +firelight. + +Thus in the forest teepee Yan had his first lesson in the art that was +to give him so much joy and some sorrow in the future. + +Guy was interested, though scornful; Sam was much interested; Yan was +simply rapt, and Si Lee was in his glory. His rosy red cheeks and his +round figure swelled with pride; even his semi-nude head and fat, +fumbling fingers seemed to partake of his general elation and +importance. + +First he stuffed the Owls' throats and wounds with cotton wool. + +Then he took one, cut a slit from the back of the breast-bone nearly +to the tail (_A_ to _B_, Fig. 1), while Yan took the other and tried +faithfully to follow his example. + +He worked the skin from the body chiefly by the use of his finger +nails, till he could reach the knee of each leg and cut this through +at the joint with the knife (_Kn,_ Fig. 1). The flesh was removed from +each leg-bone down to the heel-joint (_Hl, Hl_, Fig. 1), leaving the +leg and skin as in _Lg_, Figure 2. Then working back on each side of +the tail, he cut the "pope's nose" from the body and left it as part +of the skin, with the tail feathers in it, and this, Si explained, was +a hard place to get around. Sam called it "rounding Cape Horn." As the +flesh was exposed Si kept it powdered thickly with corn-meal, and this +saved the feathers from soiling. + +Once around Cape Horn it was easy sailing. The skin was rapidly pushed +off till the wings were reached. These were cut off at the joint deep +in the breast (under _J J_, Fig. 1, or seen on the back, _W J_, Fig. 2), +the first bone of each wing was cleared of meat, and the skin, now +inside out and well mealed, was pushed off the neck up to the head. + +Here Si explained that in most birds it would slip easily over the head, +but in Owls, Woodpeckers, Ducks and some others one had sometimes to +help it by a lengthwise slit on the nape (_Sn_, Fig. 2). "Owls is hard, +anyway," he went on, "though not so bad as Water-fowl. If ye want a real +easy bird for a starter, take a Robin or a Blackbird, or any land Bird +about that size except Woodpeckers." + +When the ears were reached they were skinned and pulled out of the skull +without cutting, then, after the eyes were passed, the skin and body +looked as in Figure 2. Now the back of the head with the neck and body +was cut off (_Ct_, Fig. 2), and the first operation of the skinning was +done. + +Yan got along fairly well, tearing and cutting the skin once or twice, +but learning very quickly to manage it. + +Now began the cleaning of the skin. + +The eyes were cut clean out and the brains and flesh carefully scraped +away from the skull. + +The wing bones were already cleaned of meat down to the elbow joint, +where the big quill feathers began, and the rest of the wing had to +be cleared of flesh by cutting open the under side of the next joint +(_H_ to _El_, Fig. 1). The "pope's nose" and the skin generally was +freed from meat and grease by scraping with a knife and rubbing with +the meal. + +Then came the poisoning. Every part of the bones and flesh had to be +painted with the creamy arsenical soap, then the head was worked back +into its place and the skin turned right side out. + +When this was done it was quite late. Guy was asleep, Sam was nearly +so, and Yan was thoroughly tired out. + +"Guess I'll go now," said Si. "Them skins is in good shape to keep, +only don't let them dry," so they were wrapped up in a damp sack and +put away in a tin till next night, when Si promised to return and +finish the course in one more lesson. + +[Illustration: Owl-stuffing plate] + + + OWL-STUFFING PLATE + + Fig. 1. The dead Owl, showing the cuts made in skinning it: A to + B, for the body; El to H, on each wing, to remove the meat of the + second joint. + + Fig. 2. After the skinning is done the skull remains attached to + the skin, which is now inside out, the neck and body are cut off + at Ct. Sn to Sn shows the slit in the nape needed for Owls and + several other kinds. + + Fig. 3. Top view of the tow body, neck end up, and neck wire + projecting. + + Fig. 4. Side view of the tow body, with the neck wire put through + it; the tail end is downward. + + Fig. 5. The heavy iron wire for neck. + + Fig. 6. The Owl after the body is put in; it is now ready to close + up, by stitching up the slit on the nape, the body slit B to C and + the two wing slits El to H, on each wing. + + Fig. 7. A dummy as it _would look_ if all the feathers were + off; this shows the proper position for legs and wings on the + body. At W is a glimpse of the leg wire entering the body at the + middle of the side. + + Fig. 8. Another view of the body without feathers; the dotted + lines show the wires of the legs through the hard body, and the + neck wire. + + Fig. 9. Two views of one of the wooden eyes; these are on a much + larger scale than the rest of the figures in this plate. + + Fig. 10. The finished Owl, with the thread wrappings on and + the wires still projecting; Nw is end of the neck wire; Bp is + back-pin--that is, the wire in the center of the back; Ww and Ww + are the wing wires; Tl are the cards pinned on the tail to hold it + flat while it dries. The last operation is to remove the threads + and cut all the wires off close so that the feathers hide what + remains. + + +While they were so working Sam had busied himself opening the Owls' +stomachs--"looking up their records," as he called it. He now reported +that one had lynched a young Partridge and the other had killed a +Rabbit for its latest meal. + +Next night Si Lee came as promised, but brought bad news. He had +failed to find the glass Owl eyes he had hoped were in his trunk. His +ingenuity, however, was of the kind that is never balked in a small +matter. He produced some black and yellow oil paints, explaining, +"Guess we'll make wooden eyes do for the present, an' when you get to +town you can put glass ones in their place." So Sam was set to work +whittling four wooden eyes the shape of well-raised buns and about +three-quarters of an inch across. When whittled, scraped and smooth, +Si painted them brilliant yellow with a central black spot and put +them away to dry (shown on a large scale on Owl Stuffing Plate, Fig. 9, +_a_ and _b_). + +Meanwhile, he and Yan got out the two skins. The bloody feathers on +the breasts were washed clean in a cup of warm water, then dried with +cotton and dusted all over with meal to soak up any moisture left. The +leg and wing bones were now wrapped with as much tow as would take the +place of the removed meat. The eye sockets were partly filled with +cotton, then a long soft roll of tow about the length and thickness of +the original neck was worked up into the neck skin and into the skull +and left hanging. The ends of the two wing bones were fastened two +inches apart with a shackle of strong string (_X_, Fig. 2 and +Fig. 7). Now the body was needed. + +For this Si rolled and lashed a wad of tow with strong thread until +he made a dummy of the same size and shape as the body taken out, +squeezing and sewing it into a hard solid mass. Next he cut about two +and a half feet of the large wire, filed both ends sharp, doubled +about four inches of one end back in a hook (Fig. 5), then drove the +long end through the tow body from the tail end out where the neck +should join on (Figs. 3 and 4). This was driven well in so that the +short end of the hook was buried out of sight. Now Si passed the +projecting ends of the long wire up the neck in the middle of the tow +roll or neck already there, worked it through the skull and out at the +top of the Owl's head, and got the tow body properly placed in the +skin with the string that bound the wing bones across the back +(_X_, Fig. 7). + +Two heavy wires each eighteen inches long and sharp at one end were +needed for the legs. These were worked up one through the sole of +each foot under the skin of the leg behind (_Lw_, Fig. 6), then +through the tow body at the middle of the side (_W_, Fig. 7), +after which the sharp end was bent with pliers into a hook and driven +back into the hard body (after the manner of the neck wire, Fig. 4). + +Another wire was sharpened and driven through the bones of the tail, +fastening that also to the tow body (_Tw_, Fig. 7). + +Now a little soft tow was packed into places where it seemed needed +to fit the skin on, and it remained to sew up the opening below +(_Bc_ in Fig. 6), the wing slits (_El, H_, Fig. 6 and Fig. +1), and the slit in the nape (_Sn Sn_, Fig. 2) with half a dozen +stitches, always putting the needle into the skin from the flesh side. + +The projecting wires of the feet were put through gimlet holes in the +perch and made firm, and Si's Owls were ready for their positions. +They were now the most ridiculous looking things imaginable, wings +floppy, heads hanging. + +"Here is where the artist comes in," said Si proudly, conscious that +this was himself. He straightened up the main line of the body by +bending the leg wires and set the head right by hunching the neck into +the shoulders. "An Owl always looks over its shoulder," he explained, +but took no notice of Sam's query as to "whose shoulder he expected it +to look over." He set two toes of each foot forward on the perch and +two back to please Yan, who insisted that that was Owly, though Si +had his doubts. He spread the tail a little by pinning it between two +pieces of card (_Tl_, Fig. 10), gave it the proper slant, and now +had the wings to arrange. + +They were drooping like those of a clucking hen. A sharp wire of the +small size was driven into the bend of each wing (_0_, Fig. 7), +nailing it in effect to the body (_Ww_ and _Ww_, Fig. 10). A long pin +was set in the middle of the back (_Bp_, Fig. 10), then using these +with the wing wires and head wire as lashing points, Si wrapped the +whole bird with the thread (Fig. 10), putting a wad of cotton here or +a bit of stick there under the wrapping till he had the position and +"feathering" perfect, as he put it. + +"We can put in the eyes now," said he, "or later, if we soften +the skin around the eye-sockets by putting wet cotton in them for +twenty-four hours." + +Yan had carefully copied Si's method with the second Owl, and +developed unusual quickness at it. + +His teacher remarked, "Wall, I larned lots o' fellows to stuff birds, +but you ketch on the quickest I ever seen." + +Si's ideas of perfection might differ from those of a trained +taxidermist; indeed, these same Owls afforded Yan no little amusement +in later years, but for the present they were an unmitigated joy. + +They were just the same in position. Si knew only one; all his birds +had that. But when they had dried fully, had their wrappings removed, +the wires cut off flush and received the finishing glory of their +wooden eyes, they were a source of joy and wonder to the whole Tribe +of Indians. + + + + +XIX + +The Trial of Grit + + +The boys had made war bonnets after the "really truly" Indian style +learned from Caleb. White Turkey tail-feathers and white Goose +wing-feathers dyed black at the tips made good Eagle feathers. Some +wisps of red-dyed horsehair from an old harness tassel; strips of red +flannel from an old shirt, and some scraps of sheepskin supplied the +remaining raw material. Caleb took an increasing interest, and helped +them not only to make the bonnet, but also to decide on what things +should count _coup_ and what _grand coup_. Sam had a number +of feathers for shooting, diving, "massacreeing the Whites," and his +grand tufted feathers for felling the pine and shooting the Cat-Owl. + +Among other things, Yan had counted coup for trailing. The Deer hunt +had been made still more real by having the "Deer-boy" wear a pair of +sandals made from old boots; on the sole of each they put two lines +of hobnails in V shape, pointing forward. These made hooflike marks +wherever the Deer went. One of the difficulties with the corn was that +it gave no clue to the direction or doubling of the trail, but the +sandals met the trouble, and with a very little corn to help they had +an ideal trail. All became very expert, and could follow fast a very +slight track, but Yan continued the best, for what he lacked in +eyesight he more than made up in patience and observation. He already +had a _grand coup_ for finding and shooting the Deer in the heart, +that time, at first shot before the others came up even, and had won +six other _grand coups_--one for swimming 200 yards in five minutes, +one for walking four measured miles in one hour, one for running 100 +yards in twelve seconds, one for knowing 100 wild plants, one for +knowing 100 birds, and the one for shooting the Horned Owl. + +Guy had several good _coups_, chiefly for eyesight. He could see +"the papoose on the squaws back," and in the Deer hunt he had several +times won _coups_ that came near being called _grand coup_, +but so far fate was against him, and even old Caleb, who was partial +to him, could not fairly vote him a _grand coup_. + +"What is it that the Injuns most likes in a man: I mean, what would +they druther have, Caleb?" asked Sappy one day, confidently expecting +to have his keen eyesight praised. + +"Bravery," was the reply. "They don't care what a man is if he's +brave. That's their greatest thing--that is, if the feller has the +stuff to back it up. An' it ain't confined to Injuns; I tell you there +ain't anything that anybody goes on so much. Some men pretends to +think one thing the best of all, an' some another, but come right down +to it, what every man, woman an' child in the country loves an' +worships is pluck, clear grit, well backed up." + +"_Well, I tell you_," said Guy, boiling up with enthusiasm at +this glorification of grit, "_I_ ain't scared o' nothin'." + +"Wall, how'd you like to fight Yan there?" + +"Oh, that ain't fair. He's older an' bigger'n I am." + +"Say, Sappy, I'll give you one. Suppose you go to the orchard alone +an' get a pail of cherries. All the men'll be away at nine o'clock." + +"Yes, and have old Cap chaw me up." + +"Thought you weren't scared of anything, an' a poor little Dog smaller +than a yearling Heifer scares you." + +"Well, I don't like cherries, anyhow." + +"Here, now, Guy, I'll give you a real test. You see that stone?" and +Caleb held up a small round stone with a hole in it. "Now, you know +where old Garney is buried?" + +Garney was a dissolute soldier who blew his head off, accidentally, +his friends claimed, and he was buried on what was supposed to be his +own land just north of Raften's, but it afterward proved to be part of +the highway where a sidepath joined in, and in spite of its diggers +the grave was at the _crossing of two roads_. Thus by the hand of +fate Bill Garney was stamped as a suicide. + +The legend was that every time a wagon went over his head he must +groan, but unwilling to waste those outcries during the rumbling of +the wheels, he waited till midnight and rolled them out all together. +Anyone hearing should make a sympathetic reply or they would surely +suffer some dreadful fate. This was the legend that Caleb called up +to memory and made very impressive by being properly impressed +himself. + +"Now," said he, "I am going to hide this stone just behind the rock +that marks the head of Garney's grave, an' I'll send you to git it +some night. Air ye game?" + +"Y-e-s, I'll go," said the Third War Chief without visible enthusiasm. + +"If he's so keen for it now, there'll be no holding him back when +night comes," remarked the Woodpecker. + +"Remember, now," said Caleb, as he left them to return to his own +miserable shanty, "this is the chance to show what you're made of. +I'll tie a cord to the stone to make sure that you get it." + +"We're just going to eat. Won't you stay and jine with us," called +Sam, but Caleb strode off without taking notice of the invitation. + +In the middle of the night the boys were aroused by a man's voice +outside and the scratching of a stick on the canvas. + +"Boys! Guy--Yan! Oh, Guy!" + +"Hello! Who is it?" + +"Caleb Clark! Say, Guy, it's about half-past eleven now. You have just +about time to go to Garney's grave by midnight an' get that stone, +and if you can't find the exact spot _you listen for the groaning +_--_that'll guide you_." + +This cheerful information was given in a hoarse whisper that somehow +conveyed the idea that the old man was as scared as he could be. + +"I--I--I--" stammered Guy, "I can't see the way." + +"This is the chance of your life, boy. You get that stone and you'll +get a _grand coup_ feather, top honours fur grit. I'll wait here +till you come back." + +"I--I--can't find the blamed old thing on such a dark night. +I--I--ain't goin'." + +"Errr--you're scared," whispered Caleb. + +"I ain't scared, on'y what's the use of goin' when I couldn't find the +place? I'll go when it's moonlight." + +"Err--anybody here brave enough to go after that stone?" + +"I'll go," said the other two at the same time, though with a certain +air of "But I hope I don't have to, all the same." + +"You kin have the honour, Yan," said the Woodpecker, with evident +relief. + +"Of course, I'd like the chance--but--but--I don't want to push ahead +of you--you're the oldest; that wouldn't be square," was the reply. + +"Guess we'd better draw straws for it." + +So Sam sought a long straw while Yan stirred up the coals to a blaze. +The long straw was broken in two unequal pieces and hidden in Sam's +hand. Then after shuffling he held it toward Yan, showing only the +two tips, and said, "Longest straw takes the job." Yan knew from old +experience that a common trick was to let the shortest straw stick out +farthest, so he took the other, drew it slowly out and out--it seemed +endless. Sam opened his hand and showed that the short straw remained, +then added with evident relief: "You got it. You are the luckiest +feller I ever did see. Everything comes your way." + +If there had been any loophole Yan would have taken it, but it was +now clearly his duty to go for that stone. It was pride rather than +courage that carried him through. He dressed quietly and nervously; +his hands trembled a little as he laced his shoes. Caleb waited +outside when he heard that it was Yan who was going. He braced him up +by telling him: "You're the stuff. I jest love to see grit. I'll +go with you to the edge of the woods--'twouldn't be fair to go +farther--and wait there till you come back. It's easy to find. Go four +panels of fence past the little Elm, then right across on the other +side of the road is the big stone. Well, on the side next the north +fence you'll find the ring pebble. The coord is lying kind o' cross +the big white stone, so you'll find it easy; and here, take this +chalk; if your grit gives out, you mark on the fence how far you did +get, but don't you worry about that groaning--it's nothing but a +yarn--don't be scairt." + +"I am afraid I am scared, but still I'll go." + +"That's right," said the Trapper with emphasis. "Bravery ain't so much +not being scairt as going ahead when you are scairt, showing that you +kin boss your fears." + +So they talked till they struck out of the gloom of the trees to the +comparative light of the open field. + +"It's just fifteen minutes to midnight," said Caleb, looking at his +watch with the light of a match, "You'll make it easy. I'll wait +here." + +Then Yan went on alone. + +It was a somber night, but he felt his way along the field fence to +the line fence and climbed that into the road that was visible as a +less intense darkness on the black darkness of the grass. Yan walked +on up the middle cautiously. His heart beat violently and his hands +were cold. It was a still night, and once or twice little mousey +sounds in the fence corner made him start, but he pushed on. Suddenly +in the blackness to the right of the road he heard a loud "whisk," +then he caught sight of a white thing that chilled his blood. It was +the shape of a man wrapped in white, but lacked a head, just as the +story had it. Yan stood frozen to the ground. Then his intellect came +to the rescue of his trembling body. "What nonsense! It must be a +white stone." But no, it moved. Yan had a big stick in his hand. He +shouted: "Sh, sh, sh!" Again the "corpse" moved. Yan groped on the +road for some stones and sent one straight at the "white thing." He +heard a "whooff" and a rush. The "white thing" sprang up and ran past +him with a clatter that told him he had been scared by Granny de +Neuville's white-faced cow. At first the reaction made him weak at the +knees, but that gave way to a better feeling. If a harmless old Cow +could lie out there all night, why should he fear? He went on more +quietly till he neared the rise in the road. He should soon see the +little Elm. He kept to the left of the highway and peered into the +gloom, going more slowly. He was not so near as he had supposed, and +the tension of the early part of the expedition was coming back more +than ever. He wondered if he had not passed the Elm--should he go +back? But no, he could not bear the idea; that would mean retreat. +Anyhow, he would put his chalk mark here to show how far he did get. +He sneaked cautiously toward the fence to make it, then to his relief +made out the Elm not twenty-five feet away. Once at the tree, he +counted off the four panels westward and knew that he was opposite the +grave of the suicide. It must now be nearly midnight. He thought he +heard sounds not far away, and there across the road he saw a whitish +thing--the headstone. He was greatly agitated as he crawled quietly as +possible toward it. Why quietly he did not know. He stumbled through +the mud of the shallow ditch at each side, reached the white stone, +and groped with clammy, cold hands over the surface for the string. If +Caleb had put it there it was gone now. So he took his chalk and wrote +on the stone "Yan." + +Oh, what a scraping that chalk made! He searched about with his +fingers around the big boulder. Yes, there it was; the wind, no doubt, +had blown it off. He pulled it toward him. The pebble was drawn across +the boulder with another and louder rasping that sounded fearfully +in the night. Then at once a gasp, a scuffle, a rush, a splash of +something in mud, or water--horrible sounds of a being choking, +strangling or trying to speak. For a moment Yan sank down in terror. +His lips refused to move. But the remembrance of the cow came to help +him. He got up and ran down the road as fast as he could go, a cold +sweat on him. He ran so blindly he almost ran into a man who shouted +"Ho, Yan; is that you?" It was Caleb coming to meet him. Yan could +not speak. He was trembling so violently that he had to cling to the +Trapper's arm. + +"What was it, boy? I heard it, but what was it?" + +"I--I--don't know," he gasped; "only it was at the g-g-grave." + +"Gosh! I heard it, all right," and Caleb showed no little uneasiness, +but added, "We'll be back in camp in ten minutes." + +He took Yan's trembling hand and led him for a little while, but he +was all right when he came to the blazed trail. Caleb stepped ahead, +groping in the darkness. + +Yan now found voice to say, "I got the stone all right, and I wrote my +name on the grave, too." + +"Good boy! You're the stuff!" was the admiring response. + +They were very glad to see that there was a fire in the teepee +when they drew near. At the edge of the clearing they gave a loud +"_O-hoo_--_O-hoo_--O-hoo-oo," the Owl cry that they had +adopted because it is commonly used by the Indians as a night signal, +and they got the same in reply from within. + +"All right," shouted Caleb; "he done it, an' he's bully good stuff and +gets an uncommon _grand coup_." + +"Wish I had gone now," said Guy. "I could 'a' done it just as well as +Yan." + +"Well, go on now." + +"Oh, there ain't any stone to get now for proof." + +"You can write your name on the grave, as I did." + +"Ah, that wouldn't prove nothin'," and Guy dropped the subject. + +Yan did not mean to tell his adventure that night, but his excitement +was evident, and they soon got it out of him in full. They were +a weird-looking crowd as they sat around the flickering fire, +experiencing as he told it no small measure of the scare he had just +been through. + +When he had finished Yan said, "Now, Guy, don't you want to go and try +it?" + +"Oh, quit," said Guy; "I never saw such a feller as you for yammering +away on the same subjek." + +Caleb looked at his watch now, as though about to leave, when Yan +said: + +"Say, Mr. Clark, won't you sleep here? There's lots o' room in Guy's +bed." + +"Don't mind if I do, seem' it's late." + + + + +XX + +The White Revolver + + +In the morning Caleb had the satisfaction of eating a breakfast +prepared by the son of his enemy, for Sam was cook that day. + +The Great Woodpecker expressed the thought of the whole assembly when +after breakfast he said: "Now I want to go and see that grave. I +believe Yan wrote his name on some old cow that was lying down and she +didn't like it and said so out loud!" + +They arrived at the spot in a few minutes. Yes, there it was +plainly written on the rude gravestone, rather shaky, but perfectly +legible--"Yan." + +"Pretty poor writing," was Guy's remark. + +"Well, you sure done it! Good boy!" said Sam warmly. "Don't believe +I'd 'a' had the grit." + +"Bet I would," said Guy. + +"Here's where I crossed the ditch. See my trail in the mud? Out there +is where I heard the yelling. Let's see if ghosts make tracks. Hallo, +what the--" + +There were the tracks in the mud of a big man. He had sprawled, +falling on his hands and knees. Here was the print of his hands +several times, and in the mud, half hidden, something shining--Guy saw +it first and picked it up. It was a white-handled Colt's revolver. + +"Let's see that," said Caleb. He wiped off the mud. His eye kindled. +"That's my revolver that was stole from me 'way back, time I lost my +clothes and money." He looked it over and, glancing about, seemed lost +in thought. "This beats me!" He shook his head and muttered from time +to time, "This beats me!" There seemed nothing more of interest to +see, so the boys turned homeward. + +On the way back Caleb was evidently thinking hard. He walked in +silence till they got opposite Granny de Neuville's shanty, which was +the nearest one to the grave. At the gate he turned and said: "Guess +I'm going in here. Say, Yan, you didn't do any of that hollering last +night, did you?" + +"No, sir; not a word. The only sound I made was dragging the +ring-stone over the boulder." + +"Well, I'll see you at camp," he said, and turned in to Granny's. + +"The tap o' the marnin' to ye, an' may yer sowl rest in pace," was the +cheery old woman's greeting. "Come in--come in, Caleb, an' set down. +An' how is Saryann an' Dick?" + +"They seem happy an' prosperin'," said the old man with bitterness. +"Say, Granny, did you ever hear the story about Garney's grave out +there on the road?" + +"For the love av goodness, an' how is it yer after askin' me that now? +Sure an' I heard the story many a time, an' I'm after hearin' the +ghost last night, an' it's a-shiverin' yit Oi am." + +"What did you hear, Granny?" + +"Och, an' it was the most divilish yells iver let out av a soul in +hell. Shure the Dog and the Cat both av thim was scairt, and the owld +white-faced cow come a-runnin' an' jumped the bars to get aff av the +road." + +Here was what Caleb wanted, and he kept her going by his evident +interest. After she tired of providing more realistic details of +the night's uproar, Caleb deliberately tapped another vintage of +tittle-tattle in hope of further information leaking out. + +"Granny, did you hear of a robbery last week down this side of +Downey's Dump?" + +"Shure an' I did not," she exclaimed, her eyes ablaze with +interest--neither had Caleb, for that matter; but he wanted to start +the subject--"An" who was it was robbed?" + +"Don't know, unless it was John Evans's place." + +"Shure an' I don't know him, but I warrant he could sthand to lose. +Shure an' it's when the raskils come after me an' Cal Conner the +moment it was talked around that we had sold our Cow; then sez I, it's +gittin' onraisonable, an' them divils shorely seems to know whin a wad +o' money passes." + +"That's the gospel truth. But when wuz you robbed, Granny?" + +"Robbed? I didn't say I wuz robbed," and she cackled. "But the robbers +had the best av intintions when they came to me," and she related +at length her experience with the two who broke in when her Cow was +reported sold. She laughed over their enjoyment of the Lung Balm, and +briefly told how the big man was sulky and the short, broad one was +funny. Their black beards, the "big wan" with his wounded head, his +left-handedness and his accidental exposure of the three fingers of +the right hand, all were fully talked over. + +"When was it, Granny?" + +"Och, shure an' it wuz about three years apast." + +Then after having had his lungs treated, old Caleb left Granny and set +out to do some very hard thinking. + +There had been robberies all around for the last four years; There was +no clue but this: They were all of the same character; nothing but +cash was taken, and the burglars seemed to have inside knowledge of +the neighbourhood, and timed all their visits to happen just after the +householder had come into possession of a roll of bills. + +As soon as Caleb turned in at the de Neuville gate, Yan, acting on a +belated thought, said: + +"Boys, you go on to camp; I'll be after you in five minutes." He wanted +to draw those tracks in the mud and try to trail that man, so went +back to the grave. + +He studied the marks most carefully and by opening out the book he was +able to draw the boot tracks life-size, noting that each had three +rows of small hobnails on the heel, apparently put in at home because +so irregular, while the sole of the left was worn into a hole. Then he +studied the hand tracks, selected the clearest, and was drawing the +right hand when something odd caught his attention. + +Yes! It appeared in all the impressions of that hand--the middle +finger was gone. + +[Illustration: The three-fingered hand-print] + +Yan followed the track on the road a little way, but at the corner it +turned southward and was lost in the grass. + +As he was going back to camp he overtook Caleb also returning. + +"Mr. Clark," he said. "I went back to sketch those tracks, and do you +know--that man had only three fingers on his right hand?" + +"Consarn me!" said Caleb. "Are you sure?" + +"Come and see for yourself." + +Yes! It surely was true, and Caleb on the road back said, "Yan, don't +say a word of this to the others just now." + +The old Trapper went to the Pogue house at once. He found the tracks +repeated in the dust near the door, but they certainly were not made +by Dick. On a line was a pair of muddy trousers drying. + +From this night Yan went up and Guy went down in the old man's +opinion, for he spoke his own mind that day when he gave first place +to grit. He invited Yan to come to his shanty to see a pair of +snow-shoes he was making. The invitation was vague and general, so the +whole Tribe accepted. Yan had not been there since his first visit. +The first part of their call was as before. In answer to their knock +there was a loud baying from the Hound, then a voice ordering him +back. Caleb opened the door, but now said "Step in." If he was +displeased with the others coming he kept it to himself. While Yan +was looking at the snow-shoes Guy discovered something much more +interesting on the old man's bunk; that was the white revolver, now +cleaned up and in perfect order. Caleb's delight at its recovery, +though not very apparent, was boundless. He had not been able to buy +himself another, and this was as warmly welcomed back as though a +long-lost only child. + +"Say, Caleb, let's try a shot. I bet I kin beat the hull gang," +exclaimed Sapwood. + +Caleb got some cartridges and pointed to a white blaze on a stump +forty yards away. Guy had three or four shots and Yan had the same +without hitting the stump. Then Caleb said, "Lemme show you." + +His big rugged hand seemed to swallow up the little gun-stock. His +long knobbed finger fitted around the lock in a strange but familiar +way. Caleb was a bent-arm shot, and the short barrel looked like his +own forefinger pointing at the target as he pumped away six times in +quick succession. All went into the blaze and two into the charcoal +spot that marked the centre. + +"By George! Look at that for shooting!" and the boys were loud in +their praise. + +"Well, twenty year ago I used to be a pretty good shot," Caleb +proceeded to explain with an air of unnecessary humility and a very +genial expression on his face. "But that's dead easy. I'll show you +some real tricks." + +Twenty-five feet away he set up three cartridges in a row, their caps +toward him, and exploded them in succession with three rapid shots. +Then he put the revolver in the side pocket of his coat, and +recklessly firing it without drawing, much less sighting or even +showing it, he peppered a white blaze at twenty yards. Finally he +looked around for an old fruit tin. Then he cocked the revolver, +laid it across his right hand next the thumb and the tin across the +fingers. He then threw them both in the air with a jerk that sent the +revolver up ten feet and the tin twenty. As the revolver came down he +seized it and shot a hole through the tin before it could reach the +ground. + +The boys were simply dumbfounded. They had used up all their +exclamations on the first simple target trial. + +Caleb stepped into the shanty to get a cleaning-rag for his darling, +and Sam burst out: + +"Well, now I know he never shot at Da, for if he did he'd 'a' got him +sure." + +It was not meant for Caleb's ears, but it reached him, and the old +Trapper came to the door at once with a long, expressive "H-m-m-mrr." + +Thus was broken the dam of silent scorn, for it was the first time +Caleb had addressed himself to Sam. The flood had forced the barrier, +but it still left plenty of stuff in the channel to be washed away by +time and wear, and it was long before he talked to Sam as freely as to +the others, but still in time he learned. + +There was an air of geniality on all now, and Yan took advantage of +this to ask for something he had long kept in mind. + +"Mr. Clark, will you take us out for a Coon hunt? We know where there +are lots of Coons that feed in a corn patch up the creek." + +If Yan had asked this a month ago he would have got a contemptuous +refusal. Before the visit to Carney's grave it might have been, "Oh, I +dunno--I ain't got time," but he was on the right side of Caleb now, +and the answer was: + +"Well, yes! Don't mind if I do, first night it's coolish, so the Dog +kin run." + +[Illustration: Raccoon in tree] + + + + +XXI + +The Triumph Of Guy + + +The boys had hunted the Woodchuck quite regularly since first meeting +it. Their programme was much the same--each morning about nine or ten +they would sneak out to the clover field. It was usually Guy who first +discovered the old Grizzly, then all would fire a harmless shot, the +Woodchuck would scramble into his den and the incident be closed for +the day. This became as much a part of the day's routine as getting +breakfast, and much more so than the washing of the dishes. Once or +twice the old Grizzly had narrow escapes, but so far he was none the +worse, rather the better, being wiser. The boys, on the other +hand, gained nothing, with the possible exception of Guy. Always +quick-sighted, his little washed-out optics developed a marvellous +keenness. At first it was as often Yan or Sam who saw the old Grizzly, +but later it was always Guy. + +One morning Sam approached the game from one point, Guy and Yan from +another some yards away. "No Woodchuck!" was the first opinion, but +suddenly Guy called "I see him." There in a little hollow fully sixty +yards from his den, and nearly a hundred from the boys, concealed in a +bunch of clover, Guy saw a patch of gray fur hardly two inches square. +"That's him, sure." + +Yan could not see it at all. Sam saw but doubted. An instant later +the Woodchuck (for it was he) stood up on his hind legs, raised his +chestnut breast above the clover, and settled all doubt. + +"By George!" exclaimed Yan in admiration. "_That is great_. You +have the most wonderful eyes I ever did see. Your name ought to be +'Hawkeye'--that should be your name." + +"All right," shrilled out Guy enthusiastically. "Will you--will +you, Sam, will you call me Hawkeye? I think you ought to," he added +pleadingly. + +"I think so, Sam," said the Second Chief. "He's turned out great +stuff, an' it's regular Injun." + +"We'll have to call a Council and settle that. Now let's to business." + +"Say, Sapwood, you're so smart, couldn't you go round through the +woods to your side and crawl through the clover so as get between the +old Grizzly and his den?" suggested the Head Chief. + +"I bet I can, an' I'll bet a dollar--" + +"Here, now," said Yan, "Injuns don't have dollars." + +"Well, I'll bet my scalp--my black scalp, I mean--against Sam's that I +kill the old Grizzly first." + +"Oh, let me do it first--you do it second," said Sam imploringly. + +"Errr--yer scared of yer scalp." + +"I'll go you," said Sam. + +Each of the boys had a piece of black horsehair that he called his +scalp. It was tied with a string to the top of his head--and this was +what Guy wished to wager. + +Yan now interfered: "Quit your squabbling, you Great War Chiefs, an' +'tend to business. If Woodpecker kills old Grizzly he takes Sapwood's +scalp; if Sappy kills him he takes the Woodpecker's scalp, an' the +winner gets a grand feather, too." + +Sam and Yan waited impatiently in the woods while Guy sneaked around. +The Woodchuck seemed unusually bold this day. He wandered far from his +den and got out of sight in hollows at times. The boys saw Guy crawl +through the fence, though the Woodchuck did not. The fact was, that he +had always had the enemy approach him from the other side, and was not +watching eastward. + +Guy, flat on his breast, worked his way through the clover. He crawled +about thirty yards and now was between the Woodchuck and his den. +Still old Grizzly kept on stuffing himself with clover and watching +toward the Raften woods. The boys became intensely excited. Guy could +see them, but not the Woodchuck. They pointed and gesticulated. Guy +thought that meant "Now shoot." He got up cautiously. The Woodchuck +saw him and bounded straight for its den--that is, toward Guy. Guy +fired wildly. The arrow went ten feet over the Grizzly's head, and, +that "huge, shaking mass of fur" bounding straight at him, struck +terror to his soul. He backed up hastily, not knowing where to run. He +was close to the den. + +The Woodchuck chattered his teeth and plunged to get by the boy, each +as scared as could be. Guy gave a leap of terror and fell heavily just +as the Woodchuck would have passed under him and home. But the boy +weighed nearly 100 pounds, and all that weight came with crushing +force on old Grizzly, knocking the breath out of his body. Guy +scrambled to his feet to run for his life, but he saw the Woodchuck +lying squirming, and plucked up courage enough to give him a couple +of kicks on the nose that settled him. A loud yell from the other two +boys was the first thing that assured Guy of his victory. They came +running over and found him standing like the hunter in an amateur +photograph, holding his bow in one hand and the big Woodchuck by the +tail in the other. + +[Illustration: The hunter] + +"Now, I guess you fellers will come to me to larn you how to kill +Woodchucks. Ain't he an old socker? I bet he weighs fifty pounds--yes, +near sixty." (It weighed about ten pounds.) + +"Good boy! Bully boy! Hooray for the Third War Chief! Hooray for Chief +Sapwood!" and Guy had no cause to complain of lack of appreciation on +the part of the others. + +He swelled out his chest and looked proud and haughty. "Wished I knew +where there was some more Woodchucks," he said. "_I_ know how to +get them, if the rest don't." + +"Well, that should count for a _grand coup_, Sappy." + +[Illustration: "Guy gave a leap of terror and fell."] + +"You tole me you wuz goin' to call me 'Hawkeye' after this morning." + +"We'll have to have a Grand Council to fix that up," replied the Head +Chief. + +"All right; let's have it this afternoon, will you?" + +"All right." + +"'Bout four o'clock?" + +"Why, yes; any time." + +"And you'll fix me up as 'Hawkeye,' and give me a dandy Eagle feather +for killing the Woodchuck, at four o'clock?" + +"Yes, sure, only, why do you want it at four o'clock?" + +But Guy seemed not to hear, and right away after dinner he +disappeared. + +"He's dodging the dishwashing again," suggested the Woodpecker. + +"No, he isn't," said the Second Chief. "I believe he's going to bring +his folks to see him in his triumph." + +"That's so. Let's chip right in and make it an everlasting old +blowout--kind of a new date in history. You'll hear me lie like sixty +to help him out." + +"Good enough. I'm with you. You go and get your folks. I'll go after +old Caleb, and we'll fix it up to call him 'Hawkeye' and give him his +_grand coup_ feather all at once." + +"'Feard my folks and Caleb wouldn't mix," replied Sam, "but I believe +for a splurge like this Guy'd ruther have my folks. You see, Da has +the mortgage on their place." + +So it was agreed Sam was to go for his mother, while Yan was to +prepare the Eagle feather and skin the Woodchuck. + +It was not "as big as a bear," but it was a very large Woodchuck, and +Yan was as much elated over the victory as any of them. He still had +an hour or more before four o'clock, and eager to make Guy's triumph +as Indian as possible, he cut off all the Woodchuck's claws, then +strung them on a string, with a peeled and pithed Elder twig an inch +long between each two. Some of the claws were very, very small, but +the intention was there to make a Grizzly-claw necklace. + +Guy made for home as fast as he could go. His father hailed him as he +neared the garden and evidently had plans of servitude, but Guy +darted into the dining-room-living-room-bedroom-kitchen-room, which +constituted nine-tenths of the house. + +"Oh, Maw, you just ought to seen me; you just want to come this +afternoon--I'm the Jim Dandy of the hull Tribe, an they're going to +make me Head Chief. I killed that whaling old Woodchuck that pooty +nigh killed Paw. They couldn't do a thing without me--them fellers in +camp. They tried an' tried more'n a thousand times to get that old +Woodchuck--yes, I bet they tried a million times, an' I just waited +till they was tired and give up, then I says, 'Now, I'll show you +how.' First I had to point him out. Them fellers is no good to see +things. Then I says, 'Now, Sam and Yan, you fellers stay here, an' +just to show how easy it is when you know how, I'll leave all my +bosenarrers behind an' go with nothing.' Wall, there they stood an' +watched me, an' I s-n-e-a-k-e-d round the fence an' c-r-a-w-l-e-d in +the clover just like an Injun till I got between him an' his hole, and +then I hollers and he come a-snortin' an' a-chatterin' his teeth at +me to chaw me up, for he seen I had no stick nor nothin', an' I never +turned a hair; I kep' cool an' waited till jest as he was going to +jump for my throat, then I turned and gave him one kick on the snoot +that sent him fifty feet in the air, an' when he come down he was +deader'n Kilsey's hen when she was stuffed with onions. Oh, Maw, I'm +just the bully boy; they can't do nothin' in camp 'thout me. I had to +larn 'em to hunt Deer an' see things--an'--an'--an'--lots o' things, +so they are goin' to make me Head Chief of the hull Tribe, an' call +me 'Hawkeye,' too; that's the way the Injuns does. It's to be at four +o'clock this afternoon, an' you got to come." + +Burns scoffed at the whole thing and told Guy to get to work at the +potatoes, and if he left down the bars so that the Pig got out he'd +skin him alive; he would have no such fooling round his place. But Mrs +Burns calmly informed him that _she_ was going. It was to her +much like going to see a university degree conferred on her boy. + +Since Burns would not assist, the difficulty of the children now +arose. This, however, was soon settled. They should go along. It was +two hours' toil for the mother to turn the four brown-limbed, nearly +naked, dirty, happy towsle-tops into four little martyrs, befrocked, +beribboned, becombed and be-booted. Then they all straggled across the +field, Mrs. Burns carrying the baby in one arm and a pot of jam in +the other. Guy ran ahead to show the way, and four-year-old, +three-year-old and two-year-old, hand in hand, formed a diagonal line +in the wake of the mother. + +They were just a little surprised on getting to camp to find Mrs. +Raften and Minnie there in holiday clothes. Marget's first feeling was +resentment, but her second thought was a pleasant one. That "stuck-up" +woman, the enemy's wife, should see her boy's triumph, and Mrs. Burns +at once seized on the chance to play society cat. + +"How do ye do, Mrs. Raften; hope you're well," she said with a tinge +of malicious pleasure and a grand attempt at assuming the leadership. + +"Quite well, thank you. We came down to see how the boys were getting +on in camp." + +"They've got on very nicely _sense my boy j'ined them_," retorted +Mrs. Burns, still fencing. + +"So I understand; the other two have become very fond of him," +returned Mrs. Raften, seeking to disarm her enemy. + +This speech had its effect. Mrs. Burns aimed only to forestall the +foe, but finding to her surprise that the enemy's wife was quite +gentle, a truce was made, and by the time Mrs. Raften had petted and +praised the four tow-tops and lauded Guy to the utmost the air of +latent battle was replaced by one of cordiality. + +The boys now had everything ready for the grand ceremony. On the +Calfskin rug at one end was the Council; Guy, seated on the skin of +the Woodchuck and nearly hiding it from view, Sam on his left hand +and Yan with the drum, on his right. In the middle the Council fire +blazed. To give air, the teepee cover was raised on the shady side and +the circle of visitors was partly in the teepee and partly out. + +The Great War Chief first lighted the peace pipe, puffed for a minute, +then blew off the four smokes to the four winds and handed it to the +Second and Third War Chiefs, who did the same. + +Little Beaver gave three thumps on the drum for silence, and the Great +Woodpecker rose up: + +"Big Chiefs, Little Chiefs, Braves, Warriors, Councillors, Squaws, +and Papooses of the Sanger Indians: When our Tribe was at war with +them--them--them--other Injuns--them Birchbarks, we took prisoner one +of their warriors and tortured him to death two or three times, and he +showed such unusual stuff that we took him into our Tribe--" + +Loud cries of "How--How--How," led by Yan. + +"We gave a sun-dance for his benefit, but he didn't brown--seemed too +green--so we called him Sapwood. From that time he has fought his way +up from the ranks and got to be Third War Chief--" + +"How--How--How." + +"The other day the hull Tribe j'ined to attack an' capture a big +Grizzly and was licked bad, when the War Chief Sapwood came to the +rescue an' settled the owld baste with one kick on the snoot. Deeds +like this is touching. A feller that kin kick like that didn't orter +be called Sapwood nor Saphead nor Sapanything. No, sirree! It ain't +right. He's the littlest Warrior among the War Chiefs, but he kin see +farder an' do it oftener an' better than his betters. He kin see round +a corner or through a tree. 'Cept maybe at night, he's the swell seer +of the outfit, an' the Council has voted to call him 'Hawkeye.'" + +"How--How--How--How--How--" + +Here Little Beaver handed the Head War Chief a flat white stick on +which was written in large letters "Sapwood." + +"Here's the name he went by before he was great an' famous, an' this +is the last of it." The Chief put the stick in the fire, saying, "Now +let us see if you're too green to burn." Little Beaver then handed +Woodpecker a fine Eagle feather, red-tufted, and bearing in outline +a man with a Hawk's head and an arrow from his eye. "This here's a +swagger Eagle feather for the brave deed he done, and tells about him +being Hawkeye, too" (the feather was stuck in Guy's hair and the claw +necklace put about his neck amid loud cries of "How--How--" and thumps +of the drum), "and after this, any feller that calls him Sapwood has to +double up and give Hawkeye a free kick." + +There was a great chorus of "How--How." Guy tried hard to look +dignified and not grin, but it got beyond him. He was smiling right +across and half way round. His mother beamed with pride till her eyes +got moist and overflowed. + +Every one thought the ceremony was over, but Yan stood up and began: +"There is something that has been forgotten, Chiefs, Squaws and +Pappooses of the Sanger Nation: When we went out after this Grizzly I +was witness to a bargain between two of the War Chiefs. According to a +custom of our Tribe, they bet their scalps, each that he would be the +one to kill the Grizzly. The Head Chief Woodpecker was one and Hawkeye +was the other. Hawkeye, you can help yourself to Woodpecker's scalp." + +Sam had forgotten about this, but he bowed his head. Guy cut the +string, and holding up the scalp, he uttered a loud, horrible +war-whoop which every one helped with some sort of noise. It was the +crowning event. Mrs. Burns actually wept for joy to see her heroic boy +properly recognized at last. + +Then she went over to Sam and said, "Did you bring your folks here to +see my boy get praised?" + +Sam nodded and twinkled an eye. + +"Well, I don't care who ye are, Raften or no Raften, you got a good +heart, an' it's in the right place. I never did hold with them as says +'There ain't no good in a Raften.' I always hold there's some good in +every human. I know your Paw _did_ buy the mortgage on our place, +but I never did believe your Maw stole our Geese, _an' I never +will_, an' next time I hear them runnin' on the Raftens I'll jest +open out an' tell what I know." + +[Illustration: The picture on the Teepee Lining, to record Guy's +Exploit.] + + + + +XXII + +The Coon Hunt + + +Yan did not forget the proposed Coon hunt--in fact, he was most +impatient for it, and within two days the boys came to Caleb about +sundown and reminded him of his promise. It was a sultry night, but +Yan was sure it was just right for a Coon hunt, and his enthusiasm +carried all before it. Caleb was quietly amused at the "_cool +night_" selected, but reckoned it would be "better later." + +"Set down--set down, boys," he said, seeing them standing ready for an +immediate start. "There's no hurry. Coons won't be running for three +or four hours after sundown." + +So he sat and smoked, while Sam vainly tried to get acquainted with +old Turk; Yan made notes on some bird wings nailed to the wall, +and Guy got out the latest improved edition of his exploits in +Deer-hunting and Woodchuck killing, as well as enlarged on his plans +for gloriously routing any Coon they might encounter. + +By insisting that it would take an hour to get to the place, Yan +got them started at nine o'clock, Caleb, on a suggestion from Guy, +carrying a small axe. Keeping old Turk well in hand, they took the +highway, and for half an hour tramped on toward the "Corners." Led by +Sam, they climbed a fence crossed a potato field, and reached the corn +patch by the stream. + +"Go ahead, Turk. Sic him! Sic him! Sic him!" and the company sat in a +row on the fence to await developments. + +Turk was somewhat of a character. He hunted what he pleased and when +he pleased. His master could bring him on the Coon grounds, but he +couldn't make him hunt Coon nor anything else unless it suited his own +fancy. Caleb had warned the boys to be still, and they sat along the +fence in dead silence, awaiting the summons from the old Hound. He had +gone off beating and sniffing among the cornstalks. His steps sounded +very loud and his sniffs like puffs of steam. It was a time of tense +attention; but the Hound wandered, farther away, and even his noisy +steps were lost. + +They had sat for two long minutes, when a low yelp from a distant part +of the field, then a loud "_bow-wow"_ from the Hound, set Yan's +heart jumping. + +"Game afoot," said Sam in a low voice. + +"Bet I heered him first," piped Guy. + +Yan's first thought was to rush pell-mell after the Dog. He had often +read of the hunt following furiously the baying of the Hounds, but +Caleb restrained him. + +"Hold on, boy; plenty of time. Don't know yet what it is." + +For Turk, like most frontier Hounds, would run almost any trail--had +even been accused of running on his own--and it rested with those who +knew him best to discover from his peculiar style of tonguing just +what the game might be. But they waited long and patiently without +getting another bay from the Hound. Presently a rustling was heard and +Turk came up to his master and lay down at his feet. + +"Go ahead, Turk, put him up," but the Dog stirred not. "Go ahead," and +Caleb gave him a rap with a small stick. The Dog dodged away, but lay +down again, panting. + +"What was it, Mr. Clark?" demanded Yan. + +"Don't hardly know. Maybe he only spiked himself on a snag. But this +is sure; there's no Coons here to-night. There won't be after this. We +come too early, and it's too hot for the Dog, anyway." + +"We could cross the creek and go into Boyle's bush," suggested the +Woodpecker. "We're like to strike anything there. Larry de Neuville +swears he saw a Unicorn there the night he came back from Garney's +wake." + +"How can you tell the kind of game by the Dog's barking?" asked Yan. + +"H-m!" answered Caleb, as he put a fresh quid in his lantern jaw. "You +surely can if you know the country an' the game an' the Dog. Course, +no two Dogs is alike; you got to study your Dog, an' if he's good +he'll larn you lots about trailing." + +The brook was nearly dry now, so they crossed where they would. Then +feeling their way through the dark woods with eyes for the most part +closed, they groped toward Boyle's open field, then across it to the +heavy timber. Turk had left them at the brook, and, following its +course till he came to a pool, had had a bath. As they entered the +timber tract he joined them, dripping wet and ready for business. + +"Go ahead, Turk," and again all sat down to await the opinion of the +expert. + +It came quickly. The old Hound, after circling about in a way that +seemed to prove him independent of daylight, began to sniff loudly, +and gave a low whine. He followed a little farther, and now his tail +was heard to '_tap, tap, tap_' the brush as he went through a dry +thicket. + +"Hear that? He's got something this time," said Caleb in a low voice. +"Wait a little." + +The Hound was already working out a puzzle, and when at last he got +far enough to be sure, he gave a short bark. There was another +spell of sniffing, then another bark, then several little barks at +intervals, and at last a short bay; then the baying recommenced, but +was irregular and not full-chested. The sounds told that the Hound was +running in a circle about the forest, but at length ceased moving, +for all the barking was at one place. When the hunters got there +they found the Dog half-way in a hole under a stump, barking and +scratching. + +"Humph," said Caleb; "nothing but a Cottontail. Might 'a' knowed that +by the light scent an' the circling without treeing." + +So Turk was called off and the company groped through the inky woods +in quest of more adventures. + +"There's a kind of swampy pond down the lower end of the bush--a +likely place for Coons on a Frog-hunt," suggested the Woodpecker. + +So the Hound was again "turned on" near the pond. The dry woods were +poor for scent, but the damp margin of the marsh proved good, and Turk +became keenly interested and very sniffy. A preliminary "_Woof!_" +was followed by one or two yelps and then a full-chested +"_Boooow!"_ that left no doubt he had struck a hot trail at last. +Oh, what wonderfully thrilling horn-blasts those were! Yan for the +first time realized the power of the "full cry," whose praises are so +often sung. + +The hunters sat down to await the result, for, as Caleb pointed out, +there was "no saying where the critter might run." + +The Hound bayed his fullest, roundest notes at quick intervals, but +did not circle. The sound of his voice told them that the chase was +straight away, out of the woods, easterly across an open field, and at +a hot pace, with regular, full bellowing, unbroken by turn or doubt. + +"I believe he's after the old Callaghan Fox," said the Trapper. +"They've tried it together before now, an' there ain't anything but a +Fox will run so straight and fetch such a tune out of Turk." + +The baying finally was lost in the distance, probably a mile away, but +there was nothing for it but to wait. If Turk had been a full-bred and +trained Foxhound he would have stuck to that trail all night, but in +half an hour he returned, puffing and hot, to throw himself into the +shallow pond. + +"Everything scared away now," remarked Caleb. "We might try the other +side of the pond." Once or twice the dog became interested, but +decided that there was nothing in it, and returned to pant by his +master's feet. + +They had now travelled so far toward home that a very short cut across +fields would bring them into their own woods. + +The moon arose as they got there, and after their long groping in the +murky darkness this made the night seem very bright and clear. + +They had crossed the brook below Granny de Neuville's, and were +following the old timber trail that went near the stream, when Turk +stopped to sniff, ran back and forth two or three times, then stirred +the echoes with a full-toned bugle blast and led toward the water. + +"_Bow--bow--bow--bow_," he bawled for forty yards and came to a +stop. The baying was exactly the same that he gave on the Fox trail, +but the course of the animal was crooked, and now there was a break. + +They could hear the dog beating about close at hand and far away, but +silent so far as tongue was concerned. + +"What is it, Caleb?" said Sam with calm assurance, forgetting how +recent was their acquaintance. + +"Dunno," was the short reply. + +"'Tisn't a Fox, is it?" asked Yan. + +But a sudden renewal of "_Bow--bow--bow--_" from the Hound one +hundred yards away, at the fence, ended all discussion. The dog had +the hot trail again. The break had been along the line of a fence that +showed, as Caleb said, "It was a Coon, 'cept it might be some old +house Cat maybe; them was the only things that would run along top of +a fence in the night time." + +It was easy to follow now; the moonlight was good, and the baying of +the Hound was loud and regular. It led right down the creek, crossing +several pools and swamps. + +"That settles it," remarked the Trapper decisively. "Cats don't take +to the water. That's a Coon," and as they hurried they heard a sudden +change in the dog's note, no longer a deep rich '_B-o-o-w-w_.' It +became an outrageous clamour of mingled yelps, growls and barks. + +"Ha--heh. That means he's right on it. That is what he does when he +_sees_ the critter." + +But the "view halloo" was quickly dropped and the tonguing of the dog +was now in short, high-pitched yelps _at one place_. + +"Jest so! He's treed! That's a Coon, all right!" and Caleb led +straight for the place. + +The Hound was barking and leaping against a big Basswood, and Caleb's +comment was: "Hm, never knowed a Coon to do any other way--always gets +up the highest and tarnalest tree to climb in the hull bush. Now who's +the best climber here?" + +"Yan is," volunteered Sam. + +"Kin ye do it, Yan?" + +"I'll try." + +"Guess we'll make a fire first and see if we can't see him," said the +Woodpecker. + +"If it was a Woodchuck I'd soon get him for you," chimed in Hawkeye, +but no one heeded. + +Sam and Yan gathered stuff and soon had a flood of flickering red +light on all the surrounding trees. They scanned the big Basswood +without getting sight of their quarry. Caleb took a torch and found on +the bark some fresh mud. By going back on the trail to where it had +crossed the brook they found the footprint--undoubtedly that of a +large Coon. + +"Reckon he's in some hollow; he's surely up that tree, and Basswood's +are always hollow." + +Yan now looked at the large trunk in doubt as to whether he could +manage it. + +Caleb remarked his perplexity and said: "Yes; that's so. You ain't +fifteen foot spread across the wings, are you? But hold on--" + +He walked to a tall thin tree near at hand, cut it through with the +axe in a few minutes, and threw it so as to rest against the lowest +branch of the big Basswood. Up this Yan easily swarmed, carrying a +stout Elm stick tied behind. When he got to the great Basswood he felt +lost in the green mass, but the boys below carried torches so as to +shed light on each part in turn. At first Yan found neither hole in +the trunk nor Coon, but after long search in the upper branches he saw +a great ball of fur on a high crotch and in it two glowing eyes that +gave him a thrill. He yelled: "Here he is! Look out below." He climbed +up nearer and tried to push the Coon off, but it braced itself firmly +and defied him until he climbed above it, when it leaped and scrambled +to a lower branch. + +Yan followed it, while his companions below got greatly excited, as +they could see nothing, and only judged by the growling and snarling +that Yan and the Coon were fighting. After another passage at arms +the Coon left the second crotch and scrambled down the trunk till it +reached the leaning sapling, and there perched, glaring at the hunters +below. The old Hound raised a howl when he saw the quarry, and Caleb, +stepping to one side, drew his revolver and fired. The Coon fell dead +into their midst. Turk sprang to do battle, but he was not needed, and +Caleb fondly and proudly wiped the old white pistol as though it alone +were to be thanked for the clever shot. + +Yan came down quickly, though he found it harder to get down than up. +He hurried excitedly into the ring and stroked the Coon with a mixture +of feelings--admiring its fur--sorry, after all, that it was killed, +and triumphant that he had led the way. _It was his Coon_, and +all admitted that. Sam "hefted" it by one leg and said, "Weighs thirty +pounds, I bet." + +Guy said: "Pooh! Tain't half as big as that there big Woodchuck I +killed, an' you never would have got him if I hadn't thought of the +axe." + +Yan thought it would weigh thirty-five pounds. Caleb guessed it at +twenty-five (and afterward they found out that it barely weighed +eighteen). While they were thus talking the Dog broke into an angry +barking such as he gave for strangers--his "human voice," Caleb called +it--and at once there stepped into the circle William Raften. He had +seen the lights in the woods, and, dreading a fire at this dry season, +had dressed and come out. + +"Hello, Da; why ain't you in bed, where you ought to be?" + +Raften took no notice of his son, but said sneeringly to Caleb: "Ye +ain't out trying to get another shot at me, air ye?" 'Tain't worth +your while; I hain't got no cash on me to-night." + +"Now see here, Da," said Sam, interrupting before Caleb could answer, +"you don't play fair. I know, an' you ought to know, that's all rot +about Caleb shooting at you. If he had, he'd 'a' got you sure. I've +seen him shoot." + +"Not when he was drunk." + +"Last time I was drunk we was in it together," said Caleb fiercely, +finding his voice. + +"Purty good for a man as swore he had no revolver," and Raften pointed +to Caleb's weapon. "I seen you with that ten years ago. An' sure +I'm not scairt of you an' yer revolver," said Raften, seeing Caleb +fingering his white pet; "an' I tell ye this. I won't have ye and yer +Sheep-killing cur ramatacking through my woods an' making fires this +dry saison." + +"D---- you, Raften, I've stood all I'm goin' to stand from you." The +revolver was out in a flash, and doubtless Caleb would have lived up +to his reputation, but Sam, springing to push his father back, came +between, and Yan clung to Caleb's revolver arm, while Guy got safely +behind a tree. + +"Get out o' the way, you kids!" snarled Caleb. + +"By all manes," said Raften scoffingly; "now that he's got me +unarrumed again. You dhirty coward! Get out av the way, bhoys, an +Oi'll settle him," for Raften was incapable of fear, and the boys +would have been thrust aside and trouble follow, but that Raften as he +left the house had called his two hired men to follow and help fight +the fire, and now they came on the scene. One of them was quite +friendly with Caleb, the other neutral, and they succeeded in stopping +hostilities for a time, while Sam exploded: + +"Now see here, Da, 'twould just 'a' served you right if you'd got a +hole through you. You make me sick, running on Caleb. He didn't make +that fire; 'twas me an' Yan, an' we'll put it out safe enough. You +skinned Caleb an' he never done you no harm. You run on him just as +Granny de Neuville done on you after she grabbed your groceries. You +ought to be ashamed of yourself. Tain't square, an' 'tain't being a +man. When you can't prove nothin' you ought to shut up." + +Raften was somewhat taken aback by this outburst, especially as he +found all the company against him. He had often laughed at Granny de +Neuville's active hatred against him when he had done her nothing but +good. It never occurred to him that he was acting a similar part. Most +men would have been furious at the disrespectful manner of their son, +but Raften was as insensitive as he was uncowardly. His first shock +of astonishment over, his only thought of Sam was, "Hain't he got a +cheek! My! but he talks like a lawyer, an' he sasses right back like a +fightin' man; belave I'll make him study law instid of tooth-pullin'." + +The storm was over, for Caleb's wrath was of the short and fierce +kind, and Raften, turning away in moral defeat, growled: "See that ye +put that fire out safe. Ye ought all to be in yer beds an' aslape, +like dacint folks." + +"Well, ain't you dacint?" retorted Sam. + +Raften turned away, heeding neither that nor Guy's shrill attempt +to interpolate some details of his own importance in this present +hunt--"Ef it hadn't been for me they wouldn't had no axe along, Mr. +Raften"--but William had disappeared. + +The boys put out the fire carefully and made somewhat silently for +camp. Sam and Yan carried the Coon between them on a stick, and before +they reached the teepee they agreed that the carcass weighed at least +eighty pounds. + +Caleb left them, and they all turned in at once and slept the sleep of +the tired camper. + + + + +XXIII + +The Banshee's Wail and the Huge Night Prowler + + +Next day while working on the Coon-skin Sam and Yan discussed +thoroughly the unpleasant incident of the night before, but they +decided that it would be unwise to speak of it to Caleb unless he +should bring up the subject, and Guy was duly cautioned. + +That morning Yan went to the mud albums on one of his regular rounds +and again found, first that curious hoof-mark that had puzzled +him before, and down by the pond album the track of a very large +bird--much like a Turkey track, indeed. He brought Caleb to see them. +The Trapper said that one was probably the track of a Blue Crane +(Heron), and the other, "Well, I don't hardly know; but it looks to me +mighty like the track of a big Buck--only there ain't any short of the +Long Swamp, and that's ten miles at least. Of course, _when there's +only out it ain't a track_; it's an accident." + +"Yes; but I've found lots of them--a trail every time, but not quite +enough to follow." + +That night after dark, when he was coming to camp with the product of +a "massacree," Yan heard a peculiar squawking, guttural sound that +rose from the edge of the pond and increased in strength, drawing +nearer, till it was a hideous and terrifying uproar. It was exactly +the sound that Guy had provoked on that first night when he came and +tried to frighten the camp. It passed overhead, and Yan saw for a +moment the form of a large slow-flying bird. + +Next day it was Yan's turn to cook. At sunrise, as he went for water, +he saw a large Blue Heron rise from the edge of the pond and fly on +heavy pinions away over the tree-tops. It was a thrilling sight. The +boy stood gazing after it, absolutely rapt with delight, and when it +was gone he went to the place where it rose and found plenty of large +tracks just like the one he had sketched. Unquestionably it was the +same bird as on the night before, and the mystery of the Wolf with the +sore throat was solved. This explanation seemed quite satisfactory to +everybody but Guy. He had always maintained stoutly that the woods +were full of Bears right after sundown. Where they went at other times +was a mystery, but he "reckoned he hadn't yet run across the bird that +could scare him--no, nor the beast, nuther." + +Caleb agreed that the grating cry must be that of the Blue Crane, but +the screech and wail in the tree-tops at night he could shed no light +on. + +There were many other voices of the night that became more or less +familiar. Some of them were evidently birds; one was the familiar +Song-Sparrow, and high over the tree-tops from the gloaming sky they +often heard a prolonged sweet song. It was not till years afterward +that Yan found out this to be the night-song of the Oven-bird, but he +was able to tell them at once the cause of the startling outcry that +happened one evening an hour after sundown. + +The Woodpecker was outside, the other two inside the teepee. A +peculiar sound fell on his ear. It kept on--a succession of long +whines, and getting stronger. As it gave no sign of ending, Sam called +the other boys. They stood in a row there and heard this peculiar +"_whine, whine, whine_" develop into a loud, harsh "_whow, +whow, whow_." + +"It must be some new Heron cry," Yan whispered. + +But the sound kept on increasing till it most resembled the yowling +of a very strong-voiced Cat, and still grew till each separate +"_meow_" might have been the yell of a Panther. Then at its +highest and loudest there was a prolonged "_meow"_ and silence, +followed finally by the sweet chant of the Song-sparrow. + +A great light dawned on Little Beaver. Now he remembered that voice in +Glenyan so long ago, and told the others with an air of certainty: + +"Boys, that's the yelling of a Lynx," and the next day Caleb said that +Yan was right. + +Some days later they learned that another lamb had been taken from the +Raften flock that night. + +In the morning Yan took down the tom-tom for a little music and found +it flat and soft. + +"Hallo," said he; "going to rain." + +Caleb looked up at him with an amused expression. "You're a reg'lar +Injun. It's surely an Injun trick that. When the tom-tom won't sing +without being warmed at the fire they allus says 'rain before night.'" + +The Trapper stayed late that evening. It had been cloudy all the +afternoon, and at sundown it began to rain, so he was invited to +supper. The shower grew heavier instead of ending. Caleb went out and +dug a trench all round the teepee to catch the rain, then a leader to +take it away. After supper they sat around the campfire in the teepee; +the wind arose and the rain beat down. Yan had to go out and swing the +smoke poles, and again his ear was greeted with _the screech_. He +brought in an armful of wood and made the inside of the teepee a blaze +of cheerful light. A high wind now came in gusts, so that the canvas +flopped unpleasantly on the poles. + +"Where's your anchor rope?" asked the Trapper. + +Sam produced the loose end; the other was fastened properly to the +poles above. It had never been used, for so far the weather had been +fine; but now Caleb sunk a heavy stake, lashed the anchor rope to that, +then went out and drove all the pegs a little deeper, and the Tribe +felt safe from any ordinary storm. + +There was nothing to attract the old Trapper to his own shanty. His +heirs had begun to forget that he needed food, and what little they +did send was of vilest quality. The old man was as fond of human +society as any one, and was easily persuaded now to stay all night, +"if you can stand Guy for a bedfeller." So Caleb and Turk settled down +for a comfortable evening within, while the storm raged without. + +"Say, don't you touch that canvas, Guy; you'll make it leak." + +"What, me? Oh, pshaw! How can it leak for a little thing like that?" +and Guy slapped it again in bravado. + +"All right, it's on your side of the bed," and sure enough, within two +minutes a little stream of water was trickling from the place he had +rubbed, while elsewhere the canvas turned every drop. + +This is well known to all who have camped under canvas during a storm, +and is more easily remembered than explained. + +The smoke hung heavy in the top of the teepee and kept crowding down +until it became unpleasant. + +"Lift the teepee cover on the windward side, Yan. There, that's +it--but hold on," as a great gust came in, driving the smoke and ashes +around in whirlwinds. "You had ought to have a lining. Give me that +canvas: that'll do." Taking great care not to touch the teepee cover, +Caleb fastened the lining across three pole spaces so that the opening +under the canvas was behind it. This turned the draught from their +backs and, sending it over their heads, quickly cleared the teepee of +smoke as well as kept off what little rain entered by the smoke hole. + +"It's on them linings the Injuns paint their records and adventures. +They mostly puts their totems on the outside an' their records on the +lining." + +"Bully," said Sam; "now there's a job for you. Little Beaver; by the +time you get our adventures on the inside and our totems on the out I +tell you we'll be living in splendour." + +"I think," answered Yan indirectly, "we ought to take Mr. Clark into +the Tribe. Will you be our Medicine Man?" Caleb chuckled in a quiet +way, apparently consenting. "Now I have four totems to paint on the +outside," and this was the beginning of the teepee painting that Yan +carried out with yellow clay, blue clay dried to a white, yellow clay +burned to red, and charcoal, all ground in Coon grease and Pine gum, +to be properly Indian. He could easily have gotten bright colours +in oil paint, but scorned such White-man's truck, and doubtless the +general effect was all the better for it. + +"Say, Caleb," piped Guy, "tell us about the Injuns--about their +bravery. Bravery is what _I_ like," he added with emphasis, +conscious of being now on his own special ground. "Why, I mind the +time that old Woodchuck was coming roaring at me--I bet some fellers +would just 'a' been so scared--" + +"_Hssh!_" said Sam. + +Caleb smoked in silence. The rain pattered on the teepee without; the +wind heaved the cover. They all sat silently. Then sounded loud +and clear a terrifying "_scrrrrrr--oouwurr_." The boys were +startled--would have been terrified had they been outside or alone. + +"That's it--that's the Banshee," whispered Sam. + +Caleb looked up sharply. + +"What is it?" queried Yan. "We've heard it a dozen times, at least." + +Caleb shook his head, made no reply, but turned to his Dog. Turk was +lying on his side by the fire, and at this piercing screech he had +merely lifted his head, looked backward over his shoulder, turned his +big sad eyes on his master, then laid down again. + +"Turk don't take no stock in it." + +"Dogs never hear a Banshee," objected Sam, "no more than they can see +a ghost; anyway, that's what Granny de Neuville says." So the Dog's +negative testimony was the reverse of comforting. + +"Hawkeye," said the Woodpecker, "you're the bravest one of the crowd. +Don't you want to go out and try a shot at the Banshee? I'll lend you +my Witch-hazel arrow. We'll give you a _grand coup_ feather if +you hit him. Go ahead, now--you know bravery is what _you_ like." + +"Yer nothin' but a passel o' blame dumb fools," was the answer, "an' I +wouldn't be bothered talking to ye. Caleb, tell us something about the +Indians." + +"What the Injuns love is bravery," said the Medicine Man with a +twinkle in his eye, and everybody but Guy laughed, not very loudly, +for each was restrained by the thought that _he_ would rather not +be called upon to show his bravery to-night. + +"I'm going to bed," said Hawkeye with unnecessary energy. + +"Don't forget to roost under the waterspout you started when you got +funny," remarked the Woodpecker. + +Yan soon followed Guy's example, and Sam, who had already learned to +smoke, sat up with Caleb. Not a word passed between them until after +Guy's snore and Yan's regular puffs told of sound sleep, when Sam, +taking advantage of a long-awaited chance, opened out rather abruptly: + +"Say, Caleb, I ain't going to side with no man against Da, but I know +him just about as well as he knows me. Da's all right; he's plumb and +square, and way down deep he's got an awful kind heart; it's pretty +deep, I grant you, but it's there, O.K. The things he does on the +quiet to help folks is done on the quiet and ain't noticed. The things +he does to beat folks--an' he does do plenty--is talked all over +creation. But I know he has a wrong notion of you, just as you have of +him, and it's got to be set right." + +Sam's good sense was always evident, and now, when he laid aside his +buffoonery, his voice and manner were very impressive--more like those +of a grown man than of a fifteen-year-old boy. + +Caleb simply grunted and went on smoking, so Sam continued, "I want to +hear your story, then Ma an' me'll soon fix Da." + +The mention of "Ma" was a happy stroke. Caleb had known her from youth +as a kind-hearted girl. She was all gentleness and obedience to her +husband except in matters of what she considered right and wrong, and +here she was immovable. She had always believed in Caleb, even after +the row, and had not hesitated to make known her belief. + +"There ain't much to tell," replied Caleb bitterly. "He done me on +that Horse-trade, an' crowded me on my note so I had to pay it off +with oats at sixty cents, then he turned round and sold them within +half an hour for seventy-five cents. We had words right there, an' I +believe I did say I'd fix him for it. I left Downey's Dump early that +day. He had about $300 in his pocket--$300 of my money--the last I had +in the world. He was too late to bank it, so was taking it home, when +he was fired at in going through the 'green bush'. My tobacco pouch +and some letters addressed to me was found there in the morning. +Course he blamed me, but I didn't have any shootin'-iron then; my +revolver, the white one, was stole from me a week before--along with +them same letters, I expect. I consider they was put there to lay the +blame on me, an' it was a little overdone, most folks would think. +Well, then your Da set Dick Pogue on me, an' I lost my farm--that's +all." + +Sam smoked gravely for awhile, then continued: + +"That's true about the note an' the oats an' the Horse-trade--just +what Da would do; that's all in the game: but you're all wrong about +Dick Pogue--that's too dirty for Da." + +"_You_ may think so, but _I don't_." + +Sam made no answer, but after a minute laid his hand on Turk, who +responded with a low growl. This made Caleb continue: "Down on me, +down on my Dog. Pogue says he kills Sheep 'an' every one is ready to +believe it. I never knowed a Hound turn Sheep-killer, an' I never +knowed a Sheep-killer kill at home, an' I never knowed a Sheep-killer +content with one each night, an' I never knowed a Sheep-killer leave +no tracks, an' Sheep was killed again and again when Turk was locked +up in the shanty with me." + +"Well, whose Dog is it does it?" + +"I don't know as it's any Dog, for part of the Sheep was eat each +time, they say, though I never seen one o' them that was killed or I +could tell. It's more likely a Fox or a Lynx than a Dog." + +There was a long silence, then outside again the hair-lifting screech +to which the Dog paid no heed, although the Trapper and the boy were +evidently startled and scared. + +They made up a blazing fire and turned in silently for the night. + +The rain came down steadily, and the wind swept by in gusts. It was +the Banshee's hour, and two or three times, as they were dropping off, +that fearful, quavering human wail, "like a woman in distress," came +from the woods to set their hearts a-jumping, not Caleb and Sam only, +but all four. + +In the diary which Yan kept of those times each day was named after +its event; there was Deer day, Skunk-and-Cat day, Blue Crane day, and +this was noted down as the night of the Banshee's wailing. + +Caleb was up and had breakfast ready before the others were fully +awake. They had carefully kept and cleaned the Coon meat, and Caleb +made of it a "prairie pie," in which bacon, potatoes, bread, one small +onion and various scraps of food were made important. This, warmed +up for breakfast and washed down with coffee, made a royal meal, and +feasting they forgot the fears of the night. + +The rain was over, but the wind kept on. Great blockish clouds were +tumbling across the upper sky Yan went out to look for tracks. He +found none but those of raindrops. + +The day was spent chiefly about camp, making arrows and painting the +teepee. + +Again Caleb was satisfied to sleep in the camp. The Banshee called +once that night, and again Turk seemed not to hear, but half an hour +later there was a different and much lower sound outside, a light, +nasal "_wow_." The boys scarcely heard it, but Turk sprang up +with bristling hair, growling, and forcing his way out under the door, +he ran, loudly barking, into the woods. + +"He's after something now, all right," said his master; "and now he's +treed it," as the Dog began his high-pitched yelps. + +"Good old Dog; he's treed the Banshee," and Yan rushed out into +the darkness. The others followed, and they found Turk barking and +scratching at a big leaning Beech, but could get no hint of what the +creature up it might be like. + +"How does he usually bark for a Banshee?" asked the Woodpecker, but +got no satisfaction, and wondering why Turk should bother himself so +mightily over a little squeal and never hear that awful scream, they +retired to camp. + +Next morning in the mud not far from the teepee Yan found the track of +a common Cat, and shrewdly guessed that this was the prowler that had +been heard and treed by the Dog; probably it was his old friend of the +Skunk fight. The wind was still high, and as Yan pored over the tracks +he heard for the first time in broad daylight the appalling screech. +It certainly was _loud_, though less dreadful than at night, and +peering up Yan saw _two large limbs that crossed and rubbed each +other, when the right puff of wind came_. This was the Banshee that +did the wailing that had scared them all--_all but the Dog_. His +keener senses, unspoiled by superstition, had rightly judged the awful +sound as the harmless scraping of two limbs in the high wind, but the +lower, softer noise made by the prowling Cat he had just as truly +placed and keenly followed up. + +Guy was the only one not convinced. He clung to his theory of Bears. + +Late in the night the two Chiefs were awakened by Guy. "Say, Sam--Sam. +Yan--Yan--Yan--Yan, get up; that big Bear is 'round again. I told you +there was a Bear, an' you wouldn't believe me." + +There was a loud champing sound outside, and occasionally growls or +grumbling. + +"There's surely something there, Sam. I wish Turk and Caleb were here +now." + +The boys opened the door a little and peered out. There, looming up in +the dim starlight, was a huge black animal, picking up scraps of meat +and digging up the tins that were buried in the garbage hole. All +doubts were dispelled. Guy had another triumph, and he would have +expressed his feelings to the full but for fear of the monster +outside. + +"What had we better do?" + +"Better not shoot him with arrows. That'll only rile him. Guy, you +blow up the coals and get a blaze." + +All was intense excitement now, "Oh, why haven't we got a gun!" + +"Say, Sam, while Sap--I mean Hawkeye--makes a blaze, let's you and me +shoot with blunt arrows, if the Bear comes toward the teepee." So they +arranged themselves, Guy puttering in terror at the fire and begging +them not to shoot. + +"What's the good o' riling him? It--it--it's croo-oo-el." + +Sam and Yan stood with bows ready and arrows nocked. + +Guy was making a failure of the fire, and the Bear began nosing +nearer, champing his teeth and grunting. Now the boys could see the +great ears as the monster threw up its head. + +"Let's shoot before he gets any nearer." At this Guy promptly +abandoned further attempts to make a fire and scrambled up on a cross +stick that was high in the teepee for hanging the pot. He broke out +into tears when he saw Sam and Yan actually drawing their bows. + +"He'll come in and eat us, he will." + +But the Bear was coming anyway, and having the two tomahawks ready, +the boys let fly. At once the Bear wheeled and ran off, uttering the +loud, unmistakable squeal of an old Pig--Burns's own Pig--for young +Burns had again forgotten to put up the bars that crossed his trail +from the homestead to the camp. + +Guy came down quickly to join in the laugh. "I tole you fellers not to +shoot. I just believed it was our old Hog, an' I couldn't help crying +when I thought how mad Paw'd be when he found out." + +"I s'pose you got up on that cross pole to see if Paw was coming, +didn't you?" + +"No; he got up there to show how brave he was." + +This was the huge night prowler that Guy had seen, and in the morning +one more mystery was explained, for careful examination of Yan's diary +of the big Buck's track showed that it was nothing more than the track +of Burns's old Hog. Why had Caleb and Raften both been mistaken? +First, because it was a long time since they had seen a Buck track, +and second, because this Pig happened to have a very unpiggy foot--one +as much like that of a Buck as of a Hog. + + + + +XXIV + +Hawkeye Claims Another Grand Coup + + +"_Wa wa wa wa wa! Wa wa wa wa wa! Wa wa wa wa wa!_" Three times it +echoed through the woods--a loud, triumphant cry. + +"That's Hawkeye with a big story of bravery; let's hide." + +So Sam and Yan scrambled quickly into the teepee, hid behind the +lining and watched through an "arrow hole." Guy came proudly stepping, +chin in air, uttering his war-whoop at intervals as he drew near, and +carrying his coat bundled up under one arm. + +"_Coup! Grand coup! Wa wa wa wa!_" he yelled again and again, but +looked simple and foolish when he found the camp apparently deserted. + +So he ceased his yells and, walking deliberately into the teepee, +pulled out the sugar box and was stuffing a handful into his mouth +when the other two Chiefs let off their wildest howls and, leaping +from their concealment, chased him into the woods--not far, for Yan +laughed too much, and Sam had on but one boot. + +This was their re-gathering after a new search for adventures. Early +in the morning, as he wiped off the breakfast knives by sticking them +into the sod, the Second War Chief had suggested: "Say, boys, in old +days Warriors would sometimes set out in different directions in +search of adventure, then agree to meet at a given time. Let's do that +to-day and see what we run across." + +"Get your straws," was Woodpecker's reply, as he returned from putting +the scraps on the Wakan Rock. + +"No you don't," put in Hawkeye hastily; "at least, not unless you let +me hold the straws. I know you'll fix it so I'll have to go home." + +"All right. You can hold the three straws; long one is +Woodpecker--that's his head with a bit of red flannel to prevent +mistakes; the middle-sized thin one is me; and the short fat one is +you. Now let them drop. Sudden death and no try over." + +The straws fell, and the two boys gave a yell as Hawkeye's fate +pointed straight to the Burns homestead. + +"Oh, get out; that's no good. We'll take the other end," he said +angrily, and persisted in going the opposite way. + +"Now we all got to go straight till we find something, and meet here +again when that streak of sunlight gets around in the teepee to that +pole." + +As the sunstreak, which was their Indian clock, travelled just about +one pole for two hours, this gave about four hours for adventures. + +Sam and Yan had been back some minutes, and now Guy, having recovered +his composure, bothered not to wipe the stolen sugar from his lips, +but broke out eagerly: + +"Say, fellers, I bet I'm the bully boy. I bet you I--" + +"Silence!" roared Woodpecker. "You come last." + +"All right; I don't care. I bet I win over all of you. I bet a million +dollars I do." + +"Go ahead, Chief Woodpecker-settin'-on-the-edge." + +So Sam began: + +"I pulls on my boots" [he went barefooted half the time]. "Oh, I tell +you I know when to wear my boots--an' I set out following my straw +line straight out. I don't take no back track. _I'm_ not scared +of the front trail," and he turned his little slit eyes sadly on Guy, +"and I kep' right on, and when I came to the dry bed of the creek it +didn't turn _me_; no, not a dozen rods; and I kept right till I +came to a Wasp's nest, and I turned and went round that coz it's +cruel to go blundering into a nest of a lot of poor innocent little +Wasps--and I kep' on, till I heard a low growl, and I looked up and +didn't see a thing. Then the growling got louder, and I seen it was a +hungry Chipmunk roaring at me and jest getting ready to spring. Then +when I got out my bonearrer he says to me, he says, as bold as brass +'Is your name Woodpecker?' Now that scared me, and so I told a lie--my +very first. I says, says I. 'No,' says I. 'I'm Hawkeye.' Well, you +should 'a seen him. He just turned pale; every stripe on his back +faded _when I said that name_, and he made for a hollow log and +got in. Now I was mad, and tried to get him out, but when I'd run to +one end he'd run to the other, so we ran up and down till I had a +deep-worn trail alongside the log, an' he had a deep-worn trail inside +the log, an' I was figgerin' to have him wear it right through at the +bottom so the log'd open, but all of a sudden I says, 'I know what to +do for you.' I took off my boot and stuffs the leg into one end of the +log. Then I rattles a stick at the other end and I heard him run into +the boot. Then I squeezes in the leg and ties a string around it an' +brings him home, me wearing one boot and the Chipmunk the other, and +there he is in it now," and Sam curled up his free bunch of toes in +graphic comment and added: "Humph! I s'pose you fellers thought I +didn't know what I was about when I drawed on my long boots this +morning." + +"Well, I just want to see that Chipmunk an' maybe I'll believe you." + +"In there hunting for a loose patch," and Sam held up the boot. + +"Let's turn him out," suggested the Second Chief. + +So the string was cut and the Chipmunk scrambled out and away to a +safer refuge. + +"Now, sonny," said Sam, as it disappeared, "don't tell your folks what +happened you or they'll swat you for a liar." + +"Oh, shucks! That's no adventure. Why, I--" + +"Hold on, Hawkeye; Little Beaver next." + +"Well, I don't care. I bet I--" + +Sam grabbed his knife and interrupted: "Do you know what Callahan's +spring lamb did when it saw the old man gathering mint? Go ahead, +Little Beaver." + +"I hadn't much of an adventure, but I went straight through the woods +where my straw pointed and ran into a big dead stub. It was too old +and rotten for Birds to use now, as well as too late in the season, so +I got a pole and pushed it over, and I found the whole history of a +tenement in that stub. First of all, a Flicker had come years ago +and dug put a fine big nesting-place, and used it maybe two or three +times. When he was through, or maybe between seasons, the Chickadees +made a winter den of it, for there were some Chickadee tail-feathers +in the bottom. Next a Purple Blackbird came and used the hole, piling +up a lot of roots with mud on them. Next year it seems it came again +and made another nest on top of the last; then that winter the +Chickadees again used it for a cubby-hole, for there were some more +Chickadee feathers. Next year a Blue Jay found it out and nested +there. I found some of her egg-shells among the soft stuff of the +nest. Then I suppose a year after a pair of Sparrow-hawks happened on +the place, found it suited them, and made their nest in it and hatched +a brood of little Sparrow-hawks. Well, one day this bold robber +brought home to his little ones a Shrew." + +"What's that?" + +"Oh, a little thing like a Mouse, only it isn't a Mouse at all; it is +second cousin to a Mole." + +"I allus thought a Mole _was_ a Mouse specie," remarked Hawkeye, +not satisfied with Yan's distinction. + +"Oh, you!" interrupted Sam. "You'll try to make out the Burnses is +some kin to the Raftens next." + +"I bet I won't!" and for once Guy got even. + +"Well," Yan continued, "it so happened--about the first time in about +a million years--the little Hawks were not hungry just then. The Shrew +wasn't gobbled up at once, and though wounded, it set to work to +escape as soon as it was free of the old one's claws. First it hid +under the little ones, then it began to burrow down through the +feather-bed of the Sparrow-hawk's nest, then through the Blue Jay's +nest, then through the soft stuff of the Blackbird's nest and among +the old truck left by the Chickadees till it struck the hard mud +floor of the Blackbird's nest, and through that it could not dig. Its +strength gave out now, and it died there and lay hidden in the lowest +nest of the house, till years after I came by and broke open the old +stub and made it tell me a sad and mournful story--that--maybe--never +happened at all. But there's the drawing I made of it at the place, +showing all the nests just as I found them, and there's the dried up +body of the little Shrew." + +Sam listened with intense interest, but Guy was at no pains to conceal +his contempt. "Oh, pshaw! That's no adventure--just a whole lot of +'s'posens' without a blame thing doing. Now I'll tell you what I done. +I--" + +"Now, Hawkeye," Sam put in, "please don't be rough about it. Leave out +the awful things: I ain't well to-day. You keep back the scary parts +till to-morrow." + +"I tell you I left here and went straight as a die, an' I seen a +Woodchuck, but he wasn't in line, so I says: 'No, some other day. I +kin get you _easy_ any time.' Then I seen a Hawk going off with +a Chicken, but that was off my beat, an' I found lots o' old stumps +an' hundreds o' Chipmunks an' wouldn't be bothered with them. Then I +come to a farmhouse an'--an' I went around that so's not to scare the +Dog, an' I went pretty near as far as Downey's Dump--yes, a little +a-past it--only to one side--when up jumps a Partridge as big as a +Turkey, an' a hull gang of young ones--about thirty or forty. I bet I +seen them forty rod away, an' they all flew, but one that lighted on +a tree as far as--oh, 'cross that field, anyway. I bet you fellers +wouldn't 'a' seen it at all. Well, I jest hauled off as ca'm as ca'm +an' let him have it. I aimed straight for his eye--an' that's where I +hit him. _Now who gets a grand coup, for there he is_!" Hawkeye +unrolled his coat and turned out a bobtailed young Robin in the +speckled plumage, shot through the body. + +"So that's your Partridge. I call that a young Robin," said the First +Chief with slow emphasis. "Rules is broke. Killed a Song-bird. Little +Beaver, arrest the criminal." + +But Hawkeye struggled with all the ferocity born of his recent +exploit, and had to be bound hand and foot while a full Council was +called to try the case. The angry protests weakened when he found how +serious the Councillors were. Finally he pleaded "guilty" and was +condemned to wear a black feather of disgrace and a white feather for +cowardice for three days, as well as wash the dishes for a week. They +would also have made him cook for that term, but that they had had +some unhappy experiences with some dishes of Guy's make. + +"Well, I won't do it, that's all," was the prisoner's defiant retort. +"I'll go home first." + +"And hoe the garden? Oh, yes; I think I see you." + +"Well, I won't do it. You better let me 'lone." + +"Little Beaver, what do they do when an Injun won't obey the Council?" + +"Strip him of his honours. Do you remember that stick we burned with +'Sapwood' on it?" + +"Good idee. We'll burn Hawkeye for a name and dig up the old one" + +"No, you won't, you dirty mean Skunks! Ye promised me you'd never call +me that again. I _am_ Hawkeye. I kin see farder'n--n--" and he +began to weep. + +"Well, will you obey the Council?" + +"Yes; but I won't wear no white feather--I'm _brave_, boohoo!" + +"All right. We'll leave that off; but you must do the other +punishments. + +"Will I still be Hawkeye?" + +"Yes." + +"All right. I'll do it." + + + + +XXV + +The Three-Fingered Tramp. + + +Broad-shouldered, beetle-browed, brutal and lazy was Bill Hennard, son +of a prosperous settler. He had inherited a fine farm, but he was +as lazy as he was strong, and had soon run through his property and +followed the usual course from laziness to crime. Bill had seen the +inside of more than one jail. He was widely known in the adjoining +township of Emolan; many petty thefts were traced to him, and it was +openly stated that but for the help of a rich and clever confederate +he would certainly be in the penitentiary. It was darkly hinted, +further, that this confederate was a well-to-do Sangerite who had many +farms and a wife and son and a little daughter, and his first name was +William, and his second name Ra---- "But never mind; and don't for the +world say I told you." Oh, it's easy to get rich--if you know how. Of +course, these rumours never reached the parties chiefly concerned. + +Hennard had left Downey's Dump the evening before, and avoiding the +roads, had struck through the woods, to visit his partner, with +important matters to arrange--very important for Hennard. He was much +fuddled when he left Downey's, the night was cloudy, and consequently +he had wandered round and round till he was completely lost. He slept +under a tree (a cold, miserable sleep it was), and in the sunless +morning he set out with little certainty to find his "pal." After +some time he stumbled on the trail that led him to the boys' camp. He +was now savage with hunger and annoyance, and reckless with bottle +assistance, for he carried a flask. No longer avoiding being seen, he +walked up to the teepee just as Little Beaver was frying meat for the +noonday meal he expected to eat alone. At the sound of footsteps Yan +turned, supposing that one of his companions had come back, but there +instead was a big, rough-looking tramp. + +[Illustration: "Well, sonny, cookin' dinner?"] + +"Well, sonny, cookin' dinner? I'll be glad to j'ine ye," he said with +an unpleasant and fawning smile. + +His manner was as repulsive as it could be, though he kept the form of +politeness. + +"Where's your folks, sonny?" + +"Haven't any--here," replied Yan, in some fear, remembering now the +tramps of Glenyan. + +"H-m--all alone--camped all alone, are ye?" + +"The other fellers are away till the afternoon." + +"Wall, how nice. Glad to know it. I'll trouble you to hand me that +stick," and now the tramp's manner changed from fawning to command, as +he pointed to Yan's bow hanging unstrung. + +"That's my bow!" replied Yan, in fear and indignation. + +"I won't tell ye a second time--hand me that stick, or I'll +spifflicate ye." + +Yan stood still. The desperado strode forward, seized the bow, and +gave him two or three blows on the back and legs. + +"Now, you young Pup, get me my dinner, and be quick about it, or I'll +break yer useless neck." + +Yan now realized that he had fallen into the power of the worst enemy +of the harmless camper, and saw too late the folly of neglecting +Raften's advice to have a big Dog in camp. He glanced around and would +have run, but the tramp was too quick for him and grabbed him by the +collar. "Oh, no you don't; hold on, sonny. I'll fix you so you'll do +as you're told." He cut the bowstring from its place, and violently +throwing Yan down, he tied his feet so that they had about eighteen +inches' play. + +"Now rush around and get my dinner; I'm hungry. An' don't you spile it +in the cooking or I'll use the gad on you; an' if you holler or cut +that cord I'll kill ye. See that?" and he got out an ugly-looking +knife. + +Tears of fear and pain ran down Yan's face as he limped about to obey +the brute's orders. + +"Here, you move a little faster!" and the tramp turned from poking the +fire with the bow to give another sounding blow. If he had looked down +the trail he would have seen a small tow-topped figure that turned and +scurried away at the sound. + +Yan was trained to bear punishment, but the tyrant seemed careless of +even his life. + +"Are you going to kill me?" he burst out, after another attack for +stumbling in his shackles. + +"Don't know but I will when I've got through with ye," replied the +desperado with brutal coolness. "I'll take some more o' that meat--an' +don't you let it burn, neither. Where's the sugar for the coffee? I'll +get a bigger club if ye don't look spry," and so the tramp was served +with his meal. "Now bring me some tobaccer." + +Yan hobbled into the teepee and reached down Sam's tobacco bag. + +"Here, what's that box? Bring that out here," and the tramp pointed to +the box in which they kept some spare clothes. Yan obeyed in fear and +trembling. "Open it." + +"I can't. It's locked, and Sam has the key." + +"He has, has he? Well, I have a key that will open it," and so he +smashed the lid with the axe; then he went through the pockets, got +Yan's old silver watch and chain, and in Sam's trousers pocket he got +two dollars. + +"Ha! That's just what I want, sonny," and the tramp put them in his +own pockets. "'Pears to me the fire needs a little wood," he remarked, +as his eye fell on Yan's quiverful of arrows, and he gave that a kick +that sent many of them into the blaze. + +"Now, sonny, don't look at me quite so hard, like you was taking +notes, or I may have to cut your throat and put you in the swamp hole +to keep ye from telling tales." + +Yan was truly in terror of his life now. + +"Bring me the whetstone," the tyrant growled, "an' some more coffee." +Yan did so. The tramp began whetting his long knife, and Yan saw +two things that stuck in his memory: first, the knife, which was of +hunting pattern, had a brass Deer on the handle; second, the hand that +grasped it had only three fingers. + +"What's that other box in there?" + +"That's--that's--only our food box." + +"You lie to me, will ye?" and again the stick descended. "Haul it +out." + +"I can't." + +"Haul it out or I'll choke ye." + +Yan tried, but it was too heavy. + +"Get out, you useless Pup!" and the tramp walked into the teepee and +gave Yan a push that sent him headlong out on the ground. + +The boy was badly bruised, but saw his only chance. The big knife was +there. He seized it, cut the cord on his legs, flung the knife afar +in the swamp and ran like a Deer. The tramp rushed out of the teepee +yelling and cursing. Yan might have gotten away had he been in good +shape, but the tramp's cruelty really had crippled him, and the brute +was rapidly overtaking him. As he sped down the handiest, the south +trail, he sighted in the trees ahead a familiar figure, and yelling +with all his remaining strength, "Caleb! Caleb!! Caleb Clark!!!" he +fell swooning in the grass. + +There is no mistaking the voice of dire distress. Caleb hurried up, +and with one impulse he and the tramp grappled in deadly struggle. +Turk was not with his master, and the tramp had lost his knife, so it +was a hand-to-hand conflict. A few clinches, a few heavy blows, and +it was easy to see who must win. Caleb was old and slight. The tramp, +strong, heavy-built, and just drunk enough to be dangerous, was too +much for him, and after a couple of rounds the Trapper fell writhing +with a foul blow. The tramp felt again for his knife, swore savagely, +looked around for a club, found only a big stone, and would have done +no one knows what, when there was a yell from behind, another big man +crashed down the trail, and the tramp faced William Raften, puffing +and panting, with Guy close behind. The stone meant for Caleb he +hurled at William, who dodged it, and now there was an even fight. Had +the tramp had his knife it might have gone hard with Raften, but fist +to fist the farmer had the odds. His old-time science turned the +day, and the desperado went down with a crusher "straight from the +shoulder." + +It seemed a veritable battle-field--three on the ground and Raften, +red-faced and puffing, but sturdy and fearless, standing in utter +perplexity. + +"Phwhat the divil does it all mane?" + +"I'll tell you, Mr. Raften," chirped in Guy, as he stole from his safe +shelter. + +"Oh, ye're here, are ye, Guy? Go and git a rope at camp--quick now," +as the tramp began to move. + +As soon as the rope came Raften tied the fellow's arms safely. + +"'Pears to me Oi've sane that hand befoore," remarked Raften, as the +three fingers caught his eye. + +Yan was now sitting up, gazing about in a dazed way. Raften went over +to his old partner and said: "Caleb, air ye hurrt? It's me--it's Bill +Raften. Air ye hurrt?" + +Caleb rolled his eyes and looked around. + +Yan came over now and knelt down. "Are you hurt, Mr. Clark?" + +He shook his head and pointed to his chest. + +"He's got his wind knocked out," Raften explained; "he'll be all right +in a minute or two. Guy, bring some wather." + +Yan told his story and Guy supplied an important chapter. He had +returned earlier than expected, and was near to camp, when he heard +the tramp beating Yan. His first impulse to run home to his puny +father was replaced with the wiser one to go for brawny Mr. Raften. + +The tramp was now sitting up and grumbling savagely. + +"Now, me foine feller," said William. "We'll take ye back to camp for +a little visit before we take ye to the 'Pen.' A year in the cooler +will do ye moore good, Oi'm thinkin', than anny other tratement. Here, +Guy, you take the end av the rope and fetch the feller to camp, while +I help Caleb." + +Guy was in his glory. The tramp was forced to go ahead; Guy followed, +jerking the rope and playing Horse, shouting, "Ch'--ch'--ch'--get +up, Horsey," while William helped old Caleb with a gentleness that +recalled a time long ago when Caleb had so helped him after a falling +tree had nearly killed him in the woods. + +At camp they found Sam. He was greatly astonished at the procession, +for he knew nothing of the day's events, and fearfully disappointed he +was on learning what he had missed. + +Caleb still looked white and sick when they got him to the fire, and +Raften said, "Sam, go home and get your mother to give you a little +brandy." + +"You don't need to go so far," said Yan, "for that fellow has a bottle +in his pocket." + +"I wouldn't touch a dhrap of annything he has, let alone give it to a +_sick friend_," was William's reply. + +So Sam went for the brandy and was back with it in half an hour. + +"Here now, Caleb," said William, "drink that now an' ye'll feel +better," and as he offered the cup he felt a little reviving glow of +sympathy for his former comrade. + +When Sam went home that morning it was with a very clear purpose. +He had gone straight to his mother and told all he knew about the +revolver and the misunderstanding with Caleb, and they two had had a +long, unsatisfactory interview with the father. Raften was brutal and +outspoken as usual. Mrs. Raften was calm and clear-witted. Sam was +shrewd. The result was a complete defeat for William--a defeat that he +would not acknowledge; and Sam came back to camp disappointed for the +time being, but now to witness the very thing he had been striving +for--his father and the Trapper reconciled; deadly enemies two hours +ago, but now made friends through a fight. Though overpowered in +argument, Raften's rancour was not abated, but rather increased toward +the man he had evidently misused, until the balance was turned by the +chance of his helping that man in a time of direst straits. + + + + +XXVI + +WINNING BACK THE FARM + + +Oh, the magic of the campfire! No unkind feeling long withstands its +glow. For men to meet at the same campfire is to come closer, to have +better understanding of each other, and to lay the foundations of +lasting friendship. "He and I camped together once!" is enough to +explain all cordiality between the men most wide apart, and Woodcraft +days are days of memories happy, bright and lifelong. + +To sit at the same camp fireside has always been a sacred bond, and +the scene of twenty years before was now renewed in the Raften woods, +thanks to that campfire lit a month before--the sacred fire. How well +it had been named! William and Caleb were camped together in good +fellowship again, marred though it was with awkwardness as yet, but +still good fellowship. + +Raften was a magistrate. He sent Sam with an order to the constable +to come for the prisoner. Yan went to the house for provisions and to +bring Mrs. Raften, and Guy went home with an astonishing account of +his latest glorious doings. The tramp desperado was securely fastened +to a tree; Caleb was in the teepee lying down. Raften went in for a +few minutes, and when he came out the tramp was gone. His bonds were +cut, not slipped. How could he nave gotten away without help? + +"Never mind," said Raften. "That three-fingered hand is aisy to +follow. Caleb, ain't that Bill Hennard?" + +"I reckon." + +The men had a long talk. Caleb told of the loss of his revolver--he +was still living in the house with the Pogues then--and of its +recovery. They both remembered that Hennard was close by at the time +of the quarrel over the Horse-trade. There was much that explained +itself and much of mystery that remained. + +But one thing was clear. Caleb had been tricked out of everything he +had in the world, for it was just a question of days now before Pogue +would, in spite of Saryann, throw off all pretense and order Caleb +from the place to shift for himself. + +Raften sat a long time thinking, then said: + +"Caleb, you do exactly as Oi tell ye and ye'll get yer farrum back. +First, Oi'll lend ye wan thousand dollars for wan week." + +_A thousand dollars!!!_ Caleb's eyes opened, and what was next he +did not then learn, for the boys came back and interrupted, but later +the old Trapper was fully instructed. + +When Mrs. Raften heard of it she was thunderstruck. A thousand dollars +in Sanger was like one hundred thousand dollars in a big city. It was +untold wealth, and Mrs. Raften fairly gasped. + +"A thousand dollars, William! Why! isn't that a heavy strain to put on +the honesty of a man who thinks still that he has some claim on you? +Is it safe to risk it?" + +"Pooh!" said William. "Oi'm no money-lender, nor spring gosling +nayther. Thayer's the money Oi'll lend him," and Raften produced a +roll of counterfeit bills that he as magistrate had happened to have +in temporary custody. "Thayer's maybe five hundred or six hundred +dollars, but it's near enough." + +Caleb, however, was allowed to think it real money, and fully +prepared, he called at his own--the Pogue house--the next day, +knocked, and walked in. + +"Good morning, father," said Saryann, for she had some decency and +kindness. + +"What do you want here?" said Dick savagely; "bad enough to have you +on the place, without forcing yerself on us day and night." + +"Hush now, Dick; you forget--" + +"Forget--I don't forget nothin'," retorted Dick, interrupting his +wife. "He had to help with the chores an' work, an' he don't do a +thing and expects to live on me." + +"Oh, well, you won't have me long to bother you," said Caleb sadly, +as he tottered to a chair. His face was white and he looked sick and +shaky. + +"What's the matter, father?" + +"Oh, I'm pretty bad. I won't last much longer You'll be quit o' me +before many days." + +"Big loss!" grumbled Dick. + +"I--I give you my farm an' everything I had--" + +"Oh, shut up. I'm sick of hearing about it." + +"At least--'most--everything. I--I--I--didn't say nothing about a +little wad o'--o'--bills I had stored away. I--I--" and the old man +trembled violently--"I'm so cold." + +"Dick, do make a fire," said his wife. + +"I won't do no sich fool trick. It's roastin' hot now." + +"'Tain't much," went on the trembling old man, "only fif--fif--teen +hundred--dollars. I got it here now," and he drew out the roll of +greenbacks. + +_FIFTEEN HUNDRED DOLLARS!_ Twice as much as the whole farm and +stock were worth! Dick's eyes fairly popped out, and Caleb was careful +to show also the handle of the white revolver. + +"Why, father," exclaimed Saryann, "you are ill: Let me go get you some +brandy. Dick, make a fire. Father is cold as ice." + +"Yes--please--fire--I'm all of--a--tremble--with--cold." + +Dick rushed around now and soon the big fire place was filled with +blaze and the room unpleasantly warm. + +"Here, father, have some brandy and water," said Dick, in a very +different tone. "Would you like a little quinine?" + +"No, no--I'm better now; but I was saying--I only got a few days to +live, an' having no legal kin--this here wad'd go to the gover'ment, +but I spoke to the lawyer, an' all I need do--is--add--a word to the +deed o' gift--for the farm--to include this--an' it's very right you +should have it, too." Old Caleb shook from head to foot and coughed +terribly. + +"Oh, father, let me send for the doctor," pleaded Saryann, and Dick +added feebly, "Yes, father, let me go for the doctor." + +"No, no; never mind. It don't matter. I'll be better off soon. Have +you the deed o' gift here?" + +"Oh, yes, Dick has it in his chest." Dick ran to get the deed, for +these were the days before registration in Canada; possession of the +deed was possession of the farm, and to lose the deed was to lose the +land. + +The old man tremblingly fumbled over the money, seeming to count +it--"Yes--just--fif-teen hun'erd," as Dick came clumping down the +ladder with the deed. + +"Have you got a--pen--and ink--" + +Dick went for the dried-up ink bottle while Saryann hunted for +_the_ pen. Caleb's hand trembled violently as he took the +parchment, glanced carefully over it--yes, this was it--the thing that +had made him a despised pauper. He glanced around quickly. Dick and +Saryann were at the other end of the room. He rose, took one step +forward and stuffed the deed into the blazing fire. Holding his +revolver in his right hand and the poker in the left, he stood erect +and firm, all sign of weakness gone; his eyes were ablaze, and with +voice of stern command he hissed "_Stand back!_" And pointed the +pistol as he saw Dick rushing to rescue the deed. In a few seconds it +was wholly consumed, and with that, as all knew, the last claim of the +Pogues on the property, for Caleb's own possessory was safe in a vault +at Downey's. + +"Now," thundered Caleb, "you dirty paupers, get out of my house! Get +off my land, and don't you dare touch a thing belonging to me." + +He raised his voice in a long "halloo" and rapped three times on the +table. Steps were heard outside. Then in came Raften with two men. + +"Magistrate Raften, clear my house of them interlopers, if ye please." + +Caleb gave them a few minutes to gather up their own clothes, then +they set out on foot for Downey's, wild with helpless rage, penniless +wanderers in the world, as they had meant to leave old Caleb. + +Now he was in possession of his own again, once more comfortably +"fixed." After the men had had their rough congratulations and +uproarious laughter over the success of the trick, Raften led up to +the question of money, then left a blank, wondering what Caleb would +do. The good old soul pulled out the wad. + +"There it is, Bill. I hain't even counted it, and a thousand times +obliged. If ever you need a friend, call on me." + +Raften chuckled, counted the greenbacks and said "All right!" and to +this day Caleb doesn't know that the fortune he held in his hand that +day was nothing but a lot of worthless paper. + +A week later, as the old Trapper sat alone getting his evening meal, +there was a light rap at the door. + +"Come in." + +A woman entered. Turk had sprung up growling, but now wagged his tail, +and when she lifted a veil Caleb recognized Saryann. + +"What do you want?" he demanded savagely. + +"'Twasn't my doing, father; you know it wasn't; and now he's left me +for good." She told him her sorrowful story briefly. Dick had not +courted Saryann, but the farm, and now that that was gone he had no +further use for her. He had been leading a bad life, "far worse than +any one knew," and now he had plainly told her he was done with her. + +Caleb's hot anger never lasted more than five minutes. He must have +felt that her story was true, for the order of former days was +reestablished, and with Saryann for housekeeper the old man had a +comfortable home to the end of his days. + +Pogue disappeared; folks say he went to the States. The three-fingered +tramp never turned up again, and about this time the serious robberies +in the region ceased. Three years afterward they learned that two +burglars had been shot while escaping from an American penitentiary. +One of them was undoubtedly Dick Pogue, and the other was described as +a big dark man with three fingers on the right hand. + + + + +XXVII + +THE RIVAL TRIBE + + +The winning back of the farm, according to Sanger custom must be +celebrated in a "sociable" that took the particular form of a grand +house-warming, in which the Raftens, Burnses and Boyles were fully +represented, as Char-less was Caleb's fast friend. The Injun band +was very prominent, for Caleb saw that it was entirely owing to the +meetings at the camp that the glad event had come about. + +Caleb acted as go-between for Char-less Boyle and William Raften, +and their feud was forgotten--for the time at least--as they related +stories of their early hunting days, to the delight of Yan and the +Tribe. There were four other boys there whom Little Beaver met for the +first time. They were Wesley Boyle, a dark-skinned, low-browed, active +boy of Sam's age; his brother Peter, about twelve, fair, fat and +freckled, and with a marvellous squint; and their cousin Char-less +Boyle, Jr., good-natured, giggly, and of spongy character; also Cyrus +Digby, a smart city boy, who was visiting "the folks," and who usually +appeared in white cuffs and very high stand-up collar. These boys were +greatly interested in the Sanger Indian camp, and one outcome of the +meeting at Caleb's was the formation of another Tribe of Indians, +composed of the three Boyle boys and their town friend. + +Since most of these were Boyles and the hunting-ground was the Boyles +woods about that marshy pond, and especially because they had read of +a band of Indians named Boilers or Stoneboilers (Assineboines), they +called themselves the "Boilers." Wesley was the natural leader. He was +alert as well as strong, and eager to do things, so made a fine Chief. +His hooked nose and black hair and eyes won for him the appropriate +name of "Blackhawk." The city boy being a noisy "show-off," who did +little work, was called "Bluejay" Peter Boyle was "Peetweet," and +Char-less, from his peculiar snickering and showing two large front +teeth, was called "Red-squirrel." + +They made their camp as much as possible like that of the Sangers, and +adopted their customs; but a deadly rivalry sprang up between them +from the first. The Sangers felt that they were old and experienced +Woodcrafters. The Boilers thought they knew as much and more, and they +outnumbered the Sangers. Active rivalry led to open hostilities. There +was a general battle with fists and mud; that proved a draw. Then a +duel between leaders was arranged, and Blackhawk won the fight and +the Woodpecker's scalp. The Boilers were wild with enthusiasm. They +proposed to take the whole Sanger camp, but in a hand-to-hand fight +of both tribes it was another draw. Guy, however, scored a glorious +triumph over Char-less and secured his scalp at the moment of victory. + +Now Little Beaver sent a challenge to Blackhawk. It was scornfully +accepted. Again the Boiler Chief was victor and won another scalp, +while Little Beaver got a black eye and a bad licking, but the enemy +retired. + +Yan had always been considered a timid boy at Bonnerton, but that was +largely the result of his repressive home training. Sanger was working +great changes. To be treated with respect by the head of the house was +a new and delightful experience. It developed his self-respect. His +wood life was making him wonderfully self-reliant, and improved health +helped his courage, so next day, when the enemy appeared in full +force, every one was surprised when Yan again challenged Blackhawk. It +really cost him a desperate and mighty effort to do so, for it is one +thing to challenge a boy that you think you can "lick" and another to +challenge one the very day after he has licked you. Indeed, if the +truth were known, Yan did it in fear and trembling, and therein lay +the courage--in going ahead when fear said "Go back." + +It is quite certain that a year before he would not have ventured in +such a fight, and he only did it now because he had realized that +Blackhawk was left-handed, and a plan to turn this to account had +suggested itself. Every one was much surprised at the challenge, +but much more so when, to the joy of his tribe, Little Beaver won a +brilliant victory. + +Inspired by this, they drove the Boilers from the field, scored a +grand triumph, and Sam and Yan each captured a scalp. + +The Sangers held a Council and scalp-dance in celebration that night +around an outdoor fire. The Medicine Man was sent for to be in it. + +After the dance, Chief Beaver, his face painted to hide his black +eye, made a speech. He claimed that the Boilers would surely look for +reinforcements and attempt a new attack, and that, therefore, the +Sangers should try to add to their number, too. + +"I kin lick Char-less any time," piped in Guy proudly, and swung the +scalp he had won. + +But the Medicine Man said: "If I were you boys I'd fix up a peace. Now +you've won you ought to ask them to a big pow-wow." + +These were the events that led to the friendly meeting of the two +Tribes in full war-paint. + +Chief Woodpecker first addressed them: "Say, fellers--Brother Chiefs, +I mean--this yere quar'lin' don't pay. We kin have more fun working +together. Let's be friends an' join in one Tribe. There's more fun +when there's a crowd." + +"All right," said Blackhawk; "but we'll call the tribe the 'Boilers,' +coz we have the majority, and leave me Head Chief." + +"You are wrong about that. Our Medicine Men makes us even number +and more than even weight. We've got the best camp--have the +swimming-pond, and we are the oldest Tribe, not to speak of the +success we had in a certain leetle business not long ago which the +youngest of us kin remember," and Guy grinned in appreciation of this +evident reference to his exploit. + +As a matter of fact, it was the swimming-pond that turned the day. The +Boilers voted to join the Sangers. Their holiday was only ten days, +the Sangers had got a week's extension, and all knew that they could +get most out of their time by going to the pond camp. The question of +a name was decided by Little Beaver. + +"Boiler Warriors," said he, "it is the custom of the Indians to have +the Tribes divided in clans. We are the Sanger clan. You are the +Boiler clan. But as we all live in Sanger we are all Sanger Indians." + +"Who's to be Head Chief?" + +Blackhawk had no notion of submitting to Woodpecker, whom he had +licked, nor would Woodpecker accept a Chief of the inferior tribe. +One suggested that Little Beaver be Chief, but out of loyalty to his +friend, the Woodpecker, Yan declined. + +"Better leave that for a few days till you get acquainted," was the +Medicine Man's wise suggestion. + +That day and the next were spent in camp. The Boilers had their teepee +to make and beds to prepare. The Sangers merrily helped, making a +"bee" of it. + +Bow and arrow making were next to do. Little Beaver had not fully +replaced his own destroyed by the robber. A hunt of the Burlap Deer +was a pleasant variation of the second day, though there were but two +bows for all, and the Boilers began to realize that they were really +far behind the Sangers in knowledge of Woodcraft. + +At swimming Blackhawk was easily first. Of course, this greatly +increased his general interest in the swimming-pond, and he chiefly +was responsible for the making of a canoe later on. + +The days went on right merrily--oh, so fast! Little Beaver showed all +the things of interest in his kingdom. How happy he was in showing +them--playing experienced guide as he used to dream it! Peetweet took +a keen interest; so did the city boy. Char-less took a little interest +in it all, helped a little, was generally a little in everything, and +giggled a good deal. Hawkeye was disposed to bully Char-less, since he +found him quite lickable. His tone was high and haughty when he spoke +to him--not at all like his whining when addressing the others. He +volunteered to discipline Char-less if he should ill-treat any of the +others, and was about to administer grievous personal punishment for +some trifling offense, when Blackhawk gave him a warning that had good +effect. + +Yan's note-book was fully discussed and his drawings greatly admired. +He set to work at once with friendly enthusiasm to paint the Boilers' +teepee. Not having any adventures that seemed important, except, +perhaps, Blackhawk's defeat of Woodpecker and Little Beaver, subjects +that did not interest the artist, the outside decorations were the +totem of the clan and its members. + + + + +XXVIII + +White-Man's Woodcraft + + +Blackhawk was the introducer of a new game which he called "judging." + +"How far is it from here to that tree?" he would ask, and when each +had written down his guess they would measure, and usually it was +Woodpecker or Blackhawk that came nearest to the truth. Guy still held +the leadership "for far sight," for which reason he suggested that +game whenever a change of amusement was wanted. + +Yan, following up Blackhawk's suggestion, brought in the new game of +"White-man's Woodcraft." + +"Can you," asked he, "tell a Dog's height by its track?" + +"No; nor you nor any one else," was the somewhat scornful reply. + +"Oh, yes, I can. Take the length in inches of his forefoot track, +multiply it by 8, and that gives his height at the shoulder. You try +it and you'll see. A little Dog has a 2-1/4-inch foot and stands about +18 inches, a Sheep Dog with a 3-inch track stands 24 inches, and a +Mastiff or any big Dog with a 4-inch track gives 30 to 32 inches." + +"You mean every Dog is 8 feet high?" drawled Sam, doubtfully, but Yan +went on. "And you can tell his weight, too, by the track. You multiply +the width of his forefoot in inches by the length, and multiply that +by 5, and that gives pretty near his weight in pounds. I tried old +Cap. His foot is 3-1/2 by 3; that equals 10-1/2, multiplied by 5 +equals 52-1/2 pounds: just about right." + +"I'll bet I seen a Dog at the show that that wouldn't work on," +drawled Sam. "He was as long as my two arms, he had feet as big as a +young Bear, an' he wasn't any higher than a brick. He was jest about +the build of a Caterpiller, only he didn't have but four legs at the +far ends. They was so far apart he couldn't keep step. He looked like +he was raised under a bureau. I think when they was cutting down so on +his legs they might have give him more of them; a row in the middle +would 'a' been 'bout right." + +"Yes, I know him. That's a Dachshund. But you can't reckon on freaks; +nothing but straight Dog. It works on wild animals, too--that is, on +Wolves and Foxes and maybe other things," then changing the subject +Beaver continued: + +"Can you tell the height of a tree by its shadow?" + +"Never thought of that. How do you do it?" + +"Wait till your own shadow is the same length as yourself--that is, +about eight in the morning or four in the afternoon--then measure the +tree's shadow. That gives its length." + +"You'd have to wait all day to work that, and you can't do it at all +in the woods or on a dull day," objected Blackhawk. "I'd rather do it +by guess." + +"I'll bet my scalp against yours I can tell the height of that +tree right now without climbing it, and get closer than you can by +guessing," said Little Beaver. + +"No, I won't bet scalps on that--but I'll bet who's to wash the +dishes." + +"All right. To the top of that tree, how much is it?" + +"Better not take the top, 'cause we can't get there to measure it, but +say that knot," was the rejoinder. "Here, Woodpecker, you be judge." + +"No, I want to be in this guessing. The loser takes the next turn of +dishwashing for each of the others." + +So Blackhawk studied the knot carefully and wrote down his +guess--Thirty-eight feet. + +Sam said, "Blackhawk! Ground's kind of uneven. I'd like to know the +exact spot under the tree that you'd measure to. Will you mark it with +a peg?" + +So Blackhawk went over and put in a white peg, at the same time +unwittingly giving Woodpecker what he wanted--a gauge, for he knew +Blackhawk was something more than five feet high; judging then as he +stood there Sam wrote down Thirty-five feet. + +Now it was Yan's turn to do it by "White-man's Woodcraft," as he +called it. He cut a pole exactly ten feet long, and choosing the +smoothest ground, he walked about twenty yards from the tree, propped +the pole upright, then lay down so that his eye was level with the +tree base and in line with the top of the pole and the knot on the +tree. A peg marked the spot. + +Now he measured from this "eye peg" to the foot of the pole; it was 31 +feet. Then from the eye peg to the peg under the tree; it was 87 feet. +Since the 10-foot pole met the line at 31 feet, then 31 is to 10 as 87 +is to the tree--or 28 feet. Now one of the boys climbed and measured +the height of the knot. It was 29 feet, and Yan had an easy victory. + +"Here, you close guessers, do you want another try, and I'll give you +odds this time, if you come within ten feet you'll win. I want only +two feet to come and go on." + +"All right. Pick your trees." + +"'Tisn't a tree this time, but the distance across that pond, from +this peg (H, in diagram) to that little Hemlock (D). You put down your +guesses and I'll show you another trick." + +Sam studied it carefully and wrote Forty feet. Wes put down +Forty-five. + +"Here, I want to be in this. I'll show you fellers how," exclaimed Guy +in his usual scornful manner, and wrote down Fifty feet. + +"Let's all try it for scalps," said Char-less, but this was ruled +too unimportant for scalps, and again the penalty of failure was +dishwashing, so the other boys came and put down their guesses close +to that of their Chief--Forty-four, Forty-six and Forty-nine feet. + +"Now we'll find out exactly," and Little Beaver, with an air of calm +superiority, took three straight poles of exactly the same length and +pegged them together in a triangle, leaving the pegs sticking up. He +placed this triangle on the bank at _A B C_, sighting the line +_A B_ for the little Hemlock _D_, and put three pegs in the +ground exactly under the three pegs where the triangle was; moved the +triangle to _E F G_ and placed it so that _F G_ should line +with _A C_ and _E G_ with _D_. Now _A G D_ also must be an equilateral +triangle; therefore, according to arithmetic, the line _D H_ must be +seven-eighths of _A G. A G_ was easily measured--70 feet. Seven-eighths +of 70 equals 61-1/4 feet. The width of the pond--they measured it with +tape line--was found to be 60 feet, so Yan was nearest, but Guy claimed +that 50 feet was within 10 feet of it, which was allowed. Thus there +were two winners--two who escaped dishwashing; and Hawkeye's bragging +became insufferable. He never again got so close in a guess, but no +number of failures could daunt him after such a success. + +Sam was interested in the White-man's Woodcraft chiefly on Yan's +account, but Blackhawk was evidently impressed with the study itself, +and said: + +"Little Beaver, I'll give you one more to do. Can you measure how far +apart those two trees are on that bank, without crossing?" + +"Yes," said Yan; "easily." So he cut three poles 6, 8 and 10 feet long +and pegged them together in a triangle (in diagram). "Now," said he, +"_A B C_ is a right angle; it must be, when the legs of the +triangle are 6, 8 and 10; that's a law." + +He placed this on the shore, the side _A B_ pointing to the inner +side of the first tree, and the side _B C_ as nearly as possible +parallel with the line between the two trees. Then he put in a stake +at _B_, another at _C_, and continued this line toward _K_. Now he +slid his triangle along this till the side _G F_ pointed to _E_, and +the side _H G_ in line with _C B_. The distance from _D_ to _E_, of +course, is equal to _B G_, which can be measured, and again the tape +line showed Yan to be nearly right. + +This White-man's Woodcraft was easy for him, and he volunteered to +teach the other Indians, but they thought it looked "too much like +school." They voted him a _coup_ on finding how well he could do +it. But when Raften heard of it he exclaimed in wonder and admiration, +"My, but that's mightiful!" and would not be satisfied till the +_coup_ was made a _grand coup_. + +"Say, Beaver," said Woodpecker sadly, harking back, "if a Dog's front +foot is 3-1/2 inches long and 3 inches wide, what colour is the end of +his tail?" + +"White," was the prompt reply; "'cause a Dog with feet that size and +shape is most likely to be a yaller Dog, and a yaller Dog always has +some white hairs in the end of his tail." + +"Well, this 'un hadn't, 'cause his tail was cut off in the days of his +youth!" + + + + +XXIX + +The Long Swamp + + +The union of the tribes, however, was far from complete. Blackhawk was +inclined to be turbulent. He was heavier than Beaver. He could not +understand how that slighter, younger boy could throw him, and he +wished to try again. Now Yan was growing stronger every day. He was +quick and of very wiry build. In the first battle, which was entirely +fisty, he was worsted; on the try-over, which cost him such an effort, +he had arranged "a rough-and-tumble," as they called it, and had +won chiefly by working his only trick. But now Blackhawk was not +satisfied, and while he did not care to offer another deadly +challenge, by way of a feeler he offered, some days after the peace, +to try a friendly throw for scalps. + +"Fists left out!" Just what Beaver wanted, and the biggest boy was +sent flying. "If any other Boiler would like to try I'd be pleased +to oblige him," said Yan, just a little puffed up, as he held up the +second scalp he had won from Blackhawk. + +Much to his surprise, Bluejay, the city boy, accepted, and he was +still more surprised when the city boy sent _him_ down in the +dust. + +"Best out of three!" shouted Woodpecker quickly, in the interest of +his friend, taking advantage of an unwritten law that when it is not +stated to be in one try, usually called "sudden death," it is "best +two out of three" that counts. + +Yan knew now that he had found a worthy foe. He dodged, waiting for an +opening--gripped--locked--and had him on the hip, he thought, but the +city boy squirmed in time, yielding instead of resisting, and both +went down tight-gripped. For a minute it was doubtful. + +"Go it, Yan." + +"Give it to him, Bluejay." + +But Yan quickly threw out one leg, got a little purchase, and turned +the city boy on his back. + +"Hooray for Little Beaver!" + +"One try more! So far even!" cried Blackhawk. + +They closed again, but Yan was more than ever careful. The city boy +was puffing hard. The real trial was over and Cy went down quite +easily. + +"Three cheers for Little Beaver!" A fourth scalp was added to his +collection, and Sam patted him on the back, while Bluejay got out a +pocket mirror and comb and put his hair straight. + +But this did not help out in the matter of leadership, and when the +Medicine Man heard of the continued deadlock he said: + +"Boys, you know when there is a doubt about who is to lead the only +way is for all Chiefs to resign and have a new election." The boys +acted on this suggestion but found another deadlock. Little Beaver +refused to be put up. Woodpecker got three votes, Blackhawk four, and +Guy one (his own), and the Sangers refused to stand by the decision. + +"Let's wait till after the 'hard trip'--that will show who is the real +Chief--then have a new election," suggested Little Beaver, with an eye +to Woodpecker's interest, for this hard trip was one that had been +promised them by Caleb--a three-days' expedition in the Long Swamp. + +This swamp was a wild tract, ten miles by thirty, that lay a dozen +miles north of Sanger. It was swampy only in parts, but the dry places +were mere rocky ridges, like islands in the bogs. The land on these +was worthless and the timber had been ruined by fire, so Long Swamp +continued an uninhabited wilderness. + +There was said to be a few Deer on the hardwood ridges. Bears and Lynx +were occasionally seen, and Wolves had been heard in recent winters. +Of course there were Foxes, Grouse and Northern Hare. The streams were +more or less choked with logs, but were known to harbour a few Beavers +and an occasional Otter. There were no roads for summer use, only +long, dim openings across the bogs, known as winter trails and timber +roads. This was the region that the boys proposed to visit under +Caleb's guidance. + +Thus at last they were really going on an "Indian trip"--to explore +the great unknown, with every probability of adventure. + +At dawn Yan tapped the tom-tom. It sang a high and vibrant note, in +guarantee of a sunny day. + +They left camp at seven in the morning, and after three hours' tramp +they got to the first part of the wilderness, a great tract of rocky +land, disfigured with blackened trees and stumps, but green in places +with groves of young Poplars or quaking Aspen. + +The Indians were very ready to camp now, but the Medicine Man said, +"No; better keep on till we find water." In another mile they reached +the first stretch of level Tamarack bog and a welcome halt for lunch +was called. "Camp!" shouted the leader, and the Indians ran each to do +his part. Sam got wood for the fire and Blackhawk went to seek water, +and with him was Blue jay, conspicuous in a high linen collar and +broad cuffs, for Caleb unfortunately had admitted that he once saw an +Indian Chief in high hat and stand-up collar. + +Beaver was just a little disappointed to see the Medicine Man light +the fire with a match. He wanted it all in truly Indian style, but the +Trapper remarked, "Jest as well to have some tinder and a thong along +when you're in the woods, but matches is handier than rubbing-sticks." + +Blackhawk and Bluejay returned with two pails of dirty, tepid, swampy +water. + +"Why, that's all there is!" was their defense. + +"Yan, you go and show them how to get good water," said Caleb, so +the Second Sanger Chief, remembering his training, took the axe and +quickly made a wooden digger, then went to the edge of the swamp, and +on the land twenty feet from the bog he began to dig a hole in the +sandy loam. He made it two feet across and sunk it down three feet. +The roily water kept oozing in all around, and Bluejay was scornful. +"Well, I'd rather have what we got." Beaver dug on till there was a +foot of dirty water in the hole. Then he took a pail and bailed it all +out as fast as possible, left it to fill, bailed it out a second time, +and ten minutes later cautiously dipped out with a cup a full pail of +crystal-clear cold water, and thus the Boilers learned how to make an +Indian well and get clear water out of a dirty puddle. + +After their simple meal of tea, bread and meat Caleb told his plan. +"You never get the same good of a trip if you jest wander off; better +have a plan--something to do; and do it without a guide if ye want +adventures. Now eight is too many to travel together; you'd scare +everything with racket and never see a livin' thing. Better divide in +parties. I'll stay in camp and get things ready for the night." + +Thus the leaders, Sam and Yan, soon found themselves paired with +Guy and Peetweet. Wes felt bound to take care of his little cousin +Char-less. + +Bluejay, finding himself the odd man, decided to stay with Caleb, +especially as the swamp evidently was without proper footpaths. + +"Now," said Caleb, "northwest of here there is a river called the +Beaver, that runs into Black River. I want one of you to locate that. +It's thirty or forty feet wide and easy to know, for it's the only big +stream in the swamp. Right north there is an open stretch of plain, +with a little spring creek, where there's a band of Injuns camped. +Somewhere northeast they say there's a tract of Pine bush not burned +off, and there is some Deer there. None of the places is ten miles +away except, maybe, the Injuns' camp. I want ye to go scoutin' and +report. You kin draw straws to say who goes where." + +So the straws were marked and drawn. Yan drew the timber hunt. He +would rather have had the one after the Indians. Sam had to seek the +river, and Wesley the Indian camp. Caleb gave each of them a few +matches and this parting word: + +"I'll stay here till you come back. I'll keep up a fire, and toward +sundown I'll make a smoke with rotten wood and grass so you kin find +your way back. Remember, steer by the sun; keep your main lines of +travel; don't try to remember trees and mudholes; and if you get lost, +you make _two smokes_ well apart and stay right there and holler +every once in awhile; some one will be sure to come." + +So about eleven o'clock the boys set out eagerly. As they were going +Blackhawk called to the others, "First to carry out his job wins a +_grand coup_!" + +"Let the three leaders stake their scalps," said the Woodpecker. + +"All right. First winner home gets a scalp from each of the others and +saves his own." + +"Say, boys, you better take along; your hull outfit, some grub an' +your blankets," was the Medicine Man's last suggestion. "You may have +to stay out all night." + +Yan would rather have had Sam along, but that couldn't be, and +Peetweet proved a good fellow, though rather slow. They soon left the +high ground and came to the bog--flat and seemingly endless and with a +few tall Tamaracks. There were some Cedar-birds catching Flies on +the tall tree-tops, and a single Flycatcher was calling out: +"_Whoit--whoit--whoit!_" Yan did not know until long after that +it was the Olive-side. A Sparrow-hawk sailed over, and later a Bald +Eagle with a Sparrow-hawk in hot and noisy pursuit. But the most +curious thing was the surface of the bog. The spongy stretch of moss +among the scattering Tamaracks was dotted with great masses of Pitcher +Plant, and half concealed by the curious leaves were thousands of +Droserae, or fly-eating plants, with their traps set to secure their +prey. + +The bog was wonderful, but very bad walking. The boys sank knee-deep +in the soft moss, and as they went farther, steering only by the sun, +they found the moss sank till their feet reached the water below and +they were speedily wet to the knees. Yan cut for each a long pole to +carry in the hand; in case the bog gave way this would save them from +sinking. After two miles of this Peetweet wanted to go back, but was +scornfully suppressed by Little Beaver. + +Shortly afterward they came to a sluggish little stream in the bog +with a peculiar red-and-yellow scum along its banks. It was deep and +soft-bottomed. Yan tried it with the pole--did not dare to wade, so +they walked along its course till they found a small tree lying from +bank to bank, then crossed on this. Half a mile farther on the bog got +dryer, and a mass of green ahead marked one of the islands of high +land. Over this they passed quickly, keeping the northwest course. +They now had a succession of small bogs and large islands. The sun was +hot here and Peetweet was getting tired. He was thirsty, too, and +persisted in drinking the swamp water whenever he found a hole. + +"Say, Peetweet, you'll suffer for that if you don't quit; that water +isn't fit to drink unless you boil it." + +But Peetweet complained of burning thirst and drank recklessly. After +two hours' tramp he was very tired and wanted to turn back. Yan sought +a dry island and then gathered sticks for a fire, but found all +the matches they had were soaking wet with wading through the bog. +Peetweet was much upset by this, not on account of fire now, but in +case they should be out all night. + +"You wait and see what an Indian does," said Little Beaver. He sought +for a dried Balsam Fir, cut the rubbing-sticks, made a bow of a +slightly bent branch, and soon had a blazing fire, to Peter's utter +amazement, for he had never seen the trick of making a fire by +rubbing-sticks. + +After drinking some tea and eating a little, Pete felt more +encouraged. + +"We have travelled more than six miles now, I reckon," said the Chief; +"an hour longer and we shall be in sight of the forest if there is +one," and Yan led off across swamps more or less open and islands of +burned timber. + +Pete began to be appalled by the distance they were putting between +them and their friends. "What if we should get lost? They never could +find us." + +"We won't get lost," said Yan in some impatience; "and if we did, what +of it? We have only to keep on straight north or south for four or +five hours and we reach some kind of a settlement." + +After an hour's tramp northeast they came to an island with a tall +tree that had branches right to the ground. Yan climbed up. A vast +extent of country lay all about him--open flat bogs and timber +islands, and on far ahead was a long, dark mass of solid +ever-green--surely the forest he sought. Between him and it he saw +water sparkling. + +"Oh, Pete, you ought to be up here," he shouted joyfully; "it's worth +the climb to see this view." + +"I'd rather see our own back-yard," grumbled Pete. + +Yan came down, his face aglow with pleasure, and exclaimed: "It's +close to, now! I saw the Pine woods. Just off there." + +"How far?" + +"Oh, a couple of miles, at most." + +"That's what you have been saying all along." + +"Well, I saw it this time; and there is water out there. I saw that, +too." + +He tramped on, and in half an hour they came to the water, a deep, +clear, slow stream, fringed with scrub willows, covered with +lily-pads, and following the middle of a broad, boggy flat. Yan had +looked for a pond, and was puzzled by the stream. Then it struck him. +"Caleb said there was only one big stream through this swamp. This +must be it. This is Beaver River." + +The stream was barely forty feet across, but it was clearly out of the +question to find a pole for a bridge, so Yan stripped off, put all his +things in a bundle, and throwing them over, swam after them. Pete had +to come now or be left. + +As they were dressing on the northern side there was a sudden loud +"_Bang--swish_!" A torrent of water was thrown in the air, with +lily-pads broken from their mooring, the water pattered down, the +wavelets settled, and the boys stood in astonishment to see what +strange animal had made this disturbance; but nothing more of it was +seen, and the mystery remained unsolved. + +Then Yan heard a familiar "_Quack!_" down the stream. He took his +bow and arrow, while Pete sat gloomily on a hummock. As soon as he +peered through the rushes in a little bay he saw three Mallard close +at hand. He waited till two were in line, then fired, killing one +instantly, and the others flew away. The breeze wafted it within reach +of a stick, and he seized it and returned in triumph to Pete, but +found him ready to cry. "I want to go home!" he said miserably. The +sight of the Mallard cheered him a little, and Yan said: "Come now, +Pete, don't spoil everything, there's a good fellow. Brace up, and if +I don't show you the Pine woods in twenty minutes I'll turn and take +you home." + +As soon as they got to the next island they saw the Pine wood--a solid +green bank not half a mile away, and the boys gave a little cheer, and +felt, no doubt, as Mungo Park did when first he sighted the Niger. In +fifteen minutes they were walking in its dry and delightful aisles. + +"Now we've won," said Yan, "whatever the others do, and all that +remains is to get back." + +"I'm awfully tired," said Pete; "let's rest awhile." + +Yan looked at his watch. "It's four o'clock. I think we'd better camp +for the night." + +"Oh, no; I want to go home. It looks like rain." + +It certainly did, but Yan replied, "Well, let's eat first." He delayed +as much as possible so as to compel the making of a camp, and the rain +came unexpectedly, before he even had a fire. Yet to his own delight +and Peter's astonishment he quickly made a rubbing-stick fire, and +they hung up their wet clothes about it. Then he dug an Indian well +and took lots of time in the preparation, so it was six o'clock before +they began to eat, and seven when finished--evidently too late to move +out even though the rain seemed to be over. So Yan collected firewood, +made a bed of Fir boughs and a windbreak of bushes and bark. The +weather was warm, and with the fire and two blankets they passed a +comfortable night. They heard their old friend the Horned Owl, a Fox +barked his querulous "_Yap-yurr!_" close at hand, and once or +twice they were awakened by rustling footsteps in the leaves, but +slept fairly well. + +At dawn Yan was up. He made a fire and heated some water for tea. They +had very little bread left, but the Mallard was untouched. + +Yan cleaned it, rolled it in wet clay, hid it in the ashes and covered +it with glowing coals. This is an Indian method of cooking, but Yan +had not fully mastered it. In half an hour he opened his clay pie and +found the Duck burned on one side and very raw on the other. Part of +it was good, however, so he called his companion to breakfast. Pete +sat up white-faced and miserable, evidently a sick boy. Not only had +he caught cold, but he was upset by the swamp water he had taken. He +was paying the penalty of his indiscretion. He ate a little and drank +some tea, then felt better, but clearly was unable to travel that day. +Now for the first time Yan felt a qualm of fear. Separated by a dozen +miles of swamp from all help, what could he do with a sick boy? He +barked a small dead tree with a knife, then on the smooth surface +wrote with a pencil, "Yan Yeoman and Pete Boyle camped here August 10, +18--" + +He made Pete comfortable by the fire, and, looking for tracks, he +found that during the night two Deer had come nearly into the camp; +then he climbed a high tree and scanned the southern horizon for a +smoke sign. He saw none there, but to the northwest, beyond some +shining yellow hills, he discovered a level plain dotted over with +black Fir clumps; from one of these smoke went up, and near it were +two or three white things like teepees. + +Yan hurried down to tell Pete the good news, but when he confessed +that it was two miles farther from home Pete had no notion of going +to the Indian camp; so Yan made a smoke fire, and knife-blazing the +saplings on two sides as he went, he set out alone for the Indian +camp. Getting there in half an hour, he found two log shanties and +three teepees. As he came near he had to use a stick to keep off the +numerous Dogs. The Indians proved shy, as usual, to White visitors. +Yan made some signs that he had learned from Caleb. Pointing to +himself, he held up two fingers--meaning that he was two. Then he +pointed to the Pine woods and made sign of the other lying down, and +added the hungry sign by pressing in his stomach with the edges of the +hands, meaning "I am cut in two here." The Chief Indian offered him +a Deer-tongue, but did not take further interest. Yan received it +thankfully, made a hasty sketch of the camp, and returned to find Pete +much better, but thoroughly alarmed at being so long alone. He was +able and anxious now to go back. Yan led off, carrying all the things +of the outfit, and his comrade followed slowly and peevishly. When +they came to the river, Pete held back in fear, believing that the +loud noise they had heard was made by some monster of the deep, who +would seize them. + +Yan was certain it could be only an explosion of swamp gas, and forced +Pete to swim across by setting the example. What the cause really was +they never learned. + +They travelled very fast now for a time. Pete was helped by the +knowledge that he was really going home. A hasty lunch of Deer-tongue +delayed them but little. At three they sighted Caleb's smoke signal, +and at four they burst into camp with yells of triumph. + +Caleb fired off his revolver, and Turk bayed his basso profundo +full-cry Fox salute. All the others had come back the night before. + +Sam said he had "gone ten mile and never got a sight of that blamed +river." Guy swore they had gone forty miles, and didn't believe there +was any such river. + +"What kind o' country did you see?" + +"Nothin' but burned land and rocks." + +"H-m, you went too far west--was runnin' parallel with Beaver River." + +"Now, Blackhawk, give an account of yourself to Little Beaver," said +Woodpecker. "Did you two win out?" + +"Well," replied the Boiler Chief, "if Hawkeye travelled forty miles, +we must have gone sixty. We pointed straight north for three hours and +never saw a thing but bogs and islands of burned timber--never a sign +of a plain or of Indians. I don't believe there are any." + +"Did you see any sandhills?" asked Little Beaver. + +"No." + +"Then you didn't get within miles of it." + +Now he told his own story, backed by Pete, and he was kind enough to +leave out all about Peetweet's whimpering. His comrade responded +to this by giving a glowing account of Yan's Woodcraft, especially +dwelling on the feat of the rubbing-stick fire in the rain, and when +they finished Caleb said: + +"Yan, you won, and you more than won, for you found the green timber +you went after, you found the river Sam went after, an' the Injuns +Wesley went after. Sam and Wesley, hand over your scalps." + + + + +XXX + +A New Kind of Coon + + +A merry meal now followed, chaffing and jokes passed several hours +away, but the boys were rested and restless by nine o'clock and eager +for more adventures. + +"Aren't there any Coons 'round here, Mr. Clark?" + +"Oh, I reckon so. Y-e-s! Down a piece in the hardwood bush near Widdy +Biddy Baggs's place there's lots o' likely Cooning ground." + +That was enough to stir them all, for the place was near at hand. +Peetweet alone was for staying in camp, but when told that he might +stay and keep house by himself he made up his mind to get all the fun +he could. The night was hot and moonless, Mosquitoes abundant, and +in trampling and scrambling through the gloomy woods the hunters had +plenty of small troubles, but they did not mind that so long as Turk +was willing to do his part. Once or twice he showed signs of interest +in the trail, but soon decided against it. + +Thus they worked toward the Widdy Baggs's till they came to a dry +brook bed. Turk began at once to travel up this, while Caleb tried +to make him go down. But the Dog recognized no superior officer when +hunting. After leading his impatient army a quarter of a mile away +from the really promising heavy timber, Turk discovered what _he_ +was after, and that was a little muddy puddle. In this he calmly lay +down, puffing, panting and lapping with energy, and his humble human +followers had nothing to do but sit on a log and impatiently await +his lordship's pleasure. Fifteen minutes went by, and Turk was still +enjoying himself, when Sam ventured at last: + +"'Pears to me if I owned a Dog I'd own him." + +"There's no use crowdin' him," was the answer. "He's runnin' this +hunt, an' he knows it. A Dog without a mind of his own is no 'count." + +So when Turk had puffed like a Porpoise, grunted and wallowed like +a Hog, to his heart's content and to the envy of the eight who sat +sweltering and impatient, he arose, all dribbling ooze, probably to +seek a new wallowing place, when his nose discovered something on the +bank that had far more effect than all the coaxings and threats of the +"waiting line," and he gave a short bark that was a note of joy for +the boys. They were all attention now, as the old Hound sniffed it +out, and in a few moments stirred the echoes with an opening blast of +his deepest strain. + +"Turk's struck it rich!" opined Caleb. + +The old Dog's bawling was strong now, but not very regular, showing +that the hunted animal's course was crooked. Then there was a long +break in it, showing possibly that the creature had run a fence or +swung from one tree to another. + +"That's a Coon," said Yan eagerly, for he had not forgotten any detail +of the other lesson. + +Caleb made no reply. + +The Hound tongued a long way off, but came back to the pond and had +one or two checks. + +"It's a great running for a Coon," Yan remarked, at length in doubt. +Then to Caleb, "What do you think?" + +Caleb answered slowly: "I dunno what to think. It runs too far for a +Coon, an' 'tain't treed yet; an' I kin tell by the Dog's voice he's +mad. If you was near him now you'd see all his back hair stannin' up." + +Another circle was announced by the Dog's baying, and then the long, +continuous, high-pitched yelping told that the game was treed at last. + +"Well, that puts Fox and Skunk out of it," said the Trapper, "but it +certainly don't act like a Coon on the ground." + +"First there gets the Coon!" shouted Blackhawk, and the boys skurried +through the dark woods, getting many a scratch and fall. As it was, +Yan and Wesley arrived together and touched the tree at the same +moment. The rest came straggling up, with Char-less last and Guy a +little ahead of him. Guy wanted to relate the full particulars of his +latest glorious victory over Char-less, but all attention was now on +old Turk, who was barking savagely up the tree. + +"Don't unnerstan' it at all, at all," said Caleb. "Coony kind o' tree, +but Dog don't act Coony." + +"Let's have a fire," said the Woodpecker, and the two crowds of boys +began each a fire and strove hard to get theirs first ablaze. + +The firelight reached far up into the night, and once or twice the +hunters thought they saw the shining eyes of the Coon. + +"Now who's to climb?" asked the Medicine Man. + +"I will, I will," etc., seven times repeated; even Guy and Char-less +chimed in. + +"You're mighty keen hunters, but I want you to know I can't tell what +it is that's up that tree. It may be a powerful big Coon, but seems to +me the Dog acts a little like it was a Cat, and 'tain't so long since +there was Painter in this county. The fact of him treeing for Turk +don't prove that he's afraid of a Dog; lots of animals does that +'cause they don't want to be bothered with his noise. If it's a Cat, +him as climbs is liable to get his face scratched. Judging by the +actions of the Dog, _I think it's something dangerous_. Now who +wants the job?" + +For awhile no one spoke. Then Yan, "I'll go if you'll lend me the +revolver." + +"So would I," said Wesley quickly. + +"Well, now, we'll draw straws"--and Yan won. Caleb felled a thin tree +against the big one and Yan climbed as he had done once before. + +There was an absence of the joking and chaffing that all had kept +up when on the other occasion Yan went after the Coon. There was a +tension that held them still and reached the climber to thrill him +with a weird sense of venturing into black darkness to face a fearful +and mysterious danger. The feeling increased as he climbed from the +leaning tree to the great trunk of the Basswood, to lose sight of his +comrades in the wilderness of broad leaves and twisted tree-arms. +The dancing firelight sent shadow-blots and light-spots in a dozen +directions with fantastic effect. Some of the feelings of the night at +Garney's grave came back to him, but this time with the knowledge of +real danger. A little higher and he was out of sight of his friends +below. The danger began to appal him; he wanted to go back, and to +justify the retreat he tried to call out, "No Coon here!" but his +voice failed him, and, as he clung to the branch, he remembered +Caleb's words, "There's nothing ahead of grit, an' grit ain't so much +not bein' scairt as it is goin' straight ahead when you _are_ +scairt." No; he would go on, come what would. + +"Find anything?" drawled a cheery voice below, just at the right time. + +Yan did not pause to answer, but continued to climb into the gloom. +Then he thought he heard a Coon snarl above him. He swung to a higher +branch and shouted, "Coon here, all right!" but the moment he did so +a rattling growl sounded close to him, and looking down he saw a huge +grey beast spring to a large branch between him and the ground, then +come climbing savagely toward him. As it leaped to a still nearer +place Yan got a dim view of a curious four-cornered face, shaggy +and striped, like the one he saw so long ago in Glenyan--it was an +enormous _Lynx_. + +Yan got such a shock that he nearly lost his hold, but quickly +recovering, he braced himself in a crotch, and got out the revolver +just as the Lynx with a fierce snarl leaped to a side branch that +brought it nearly on a level with him. He nervously cocked the pistol, +and scarcely attempting to sight in the darkness, he fired and missed. +The Lynx recoiled a little and crouched at the report. The boys below +raised a shout and Turk outdid them all in racket. + +"A Lynx!" shouted Yan, and his voice betrayed his struggle with fear. + +"Look out!" Caleb called. "You better not let him get too close." + +The Lynx was growling ferociously. Yan put forth all his will-power to +control his trembling hand, took more deliberate aim, and fired. The +fierce beast was struck, but leaped wildly at the boy. He threw up his +arm and it buried its teeth in his flesh, while Yan clung desperately +to the tree with the other arm. In a moment he knew he would be +dragged off and thrown to the ground, yet felt less fear now than he +had before. He clutched for the revolver with the left hand, but it +found only the fur of the Lynx, and the revolver dropped from his +grasp. Now he was indeed without hope, and dark fear fell on him. But +the beast was severely wounded. Its hind quarters were growing heavy. +It loosed its hold of Yan and struggled to get on the limb. A kick from +his right foot upset its balance; it slipped from the tree and flopped +to the ground below, wounded, but full of fight. Turk rushed at it, but +got a blow from its armed paw that sent him off howling. + +[Illustration: "He nervously fired and missed."] + +A surge of reaction came over Yan. He might have fainted, but again he +remembered the Trapper's words, "Bravery is keeping on even when you +_are_ skairt." He pulled himself together and very cautiously +worked his way back to the leaning tree. Hearing strange sounds, +yells, growls, sounds of conflict down below, expecting every moment +to hear the Lynx scramble up the trunk again, to finish him, dimly +hearing but not comprehending the shouts, he rested once at the +leaning tree and breathed freely. + +"Hurry up, Yan, with that revolver," shouted Blackhawk. + +"I dropped it long ago." + +"Where is it?" + +Yan slid down the sapling without making reply. The Lynx had gone, +but not far. It would have got away, but Turk kept running around and +bothering it so it could not even climb a tree, and the noise they +made in the thicket was easy to follow. + +"Where's the revolver?" shouted Caleb, with unusual excitement. + +"I dropped it in the fight." + +"I know. I heard it fall in the bushes," and Sam soon found it. + +Caleb seized it, but Yan said feebly, "Let me! Let me! It's my fight!" + +Caleb surrendered the pistol, said "Look out for the Dog!" and Yan +crawled through the bushes till that dark moving form was seen again. +Another shot and another. The sound of combat died away, and the +Indians raised a yell of triumph--all but Little Beaver. A giddiness +came over him; he trembled and reeled, and sank down on a root. Caleb +and Sam came up quickly. + +"What's the matter, Yan?" + +"I'm sick--I----" + +Caleb took his arm. It was wet. A match was struck. + +"Hallo, you're bleeding." + +"Yes, he had me--he caught me up the tree. I--I--thought I was a +goner." + +All interest was now turned from the dead Lynx to the wounded boy. + +"Let's get him to the water." + +"Guess the camp well is the nearest." + +Caleb and Sam took care of Yan, while the others brought the Lynx. +Yan grew better as they moved slowly homeward. He told all about the +attack of the Lynx. + +"Gosh! I'd 'a' been scared out o' my wits," said Sam. + +"Guess I would, too," added Caleb, to the surprise of the Tribe; "up +there, helpless, with a wounded Lynx--I tell you!" + +"Well, I _was_ scared--just as scared as I could be," admitted +Yan. + +At camp a blazing fire gave its lurid light. Cold water was handy and +Yan's bleeding arm was laid bare. He was shocked and yet secretly +delighted to see what a mauling he had got, for his shirt sleeve was +soaked with blood, and the wondering words of his friends was sweetest +music to his ears. + +Caleb and the city boy dressed his wounds, and when washed they did +not look so very dreadful. + +They were too much excited to sleep for an hour at least, and as they +sat about the fire--that they did not need but would not dream of +doing without--Yan found no lack of enthusiasm in the circle, and +blushed with pleasure to be the hero of the camp. Guy didn't see +anything to make so much fuss about, but Caleb said, "I knowed it; I +always knowed you was the stuff, after the night you went to Garney's +grave." + + + + +XXXI + +On the Old Camp Ground + + +It was threatening to rain again in the morning and the Indians +expected to tramp home heavy laden in the wet. But their Medicine Man +had a surprise in store. "I found an old friend not far from here and +fixed it up with him to take us all home in his wagon." They walked +out to the edge of the rough land and found a farm wagon with two +horses and a driver. They got in, and in little less than a hour were +safely back to the dear old camp by the pond. + +The rain was over now, and as Caleb left for his own home he said: + +"Say, boys, how about that election for Head Chief? I reckon it's due +now. Suppose you wait till to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock an' +I'll show you how to do it." + +That night Yan and his friend were alone in their teepee. His arm was +bound up, and proud he was of those bandages and delighted with the +trifling red spots that appeared yet on the last layer; but he was not +in pain, nor, indeed, the worse for the adventure, for, thanks to his +thick shirt, there was no poisoning. He slept as usual till long after +midnight, then awoke in bed with a peculiar feeling of well-being and +clearness of mind. He had no bodily sense; he seemed floating alone, +not in the teepee nor in the woods, but in the world--not dreaming, +but wide awake--more awake than ever in his life before, for all his +life came clearly into view as never before: his stern, religious +training; his father, refined and well-meaning, but blind, compelling +him to embark in a profession to which he was little inclined, and to +give up the one thing next his heart--his Woodcraft lore. + +Then Raften stepped into view, loud-voiced, externally coarse, but +blessed with a good heart and a sound head. The farmer suffered sadly +in contrast with the father, and yet Yan had to suppress the wish that +Raften were his father. What had they in common? Nothing; and yet +Raften had given him two of the dearest things in life. He, the +head of the house, a man of force and success, had treated Yan with +respect. Yan was enough like his own father to glory in the unwonted +taste; and like that other rugged stranger long ago in Glenyan, Raften +had also given him sympathy. Instead of considering his Woodcraft +pursuits mere trifling, the farmer had furthered them, and even joined +to follow for a time. The thought of Bonnerton came back. Yan knew he +must return in a year at most; he knew that his dearest ambition of a +college course in zoology was never to be realized, for his father +had told him he must go as errand boy at the first opening. Again his +rebellious spirit was stirred, to what purpose he did not know. He +would rather stay here on the farm with the Raftens. But his early +Scriptural training was not without effect. "Honour thy father and +thy mother" was of lasting force. He felt it to be a binding duty. He +could not rebel if he would. No, he would obey; and in that resolution +new light came. In taking him from college and sending him to the farm +his father had apparently cut off his hope of studies next his heart. +Instead of suffering loss by this obedience, he had come to the +largest opportunity of his life. + +Yes! He would go back--be errand boy or anything to make a living, but +in his hours of freedom he would keep a little kingdom of his own. The +road to it might lie through the cellar of a grocer's shop, but he +would not flinch. He would strive and struggle as a naturalist. When +he had won the insight he was seeking, the position he sought would +follow, for every event in the woodland life had shown him--had shown +them all, that his was the kingdom of the Birds and Beasts and the +power to comprehend them. + +And he seemed to float, happy in the fading of all doubt, glad in +the sense of victory. There was a noise outside. The teepee door was +forced gently; a large animal entered. At another time Yan might +have been alarmed, but the uplift of his vision was on him still. He +watched it with curious unalarm. It gently came to his bed, licked his +hand and laid down beside him. It was old Turk, and this was the first +time he had heeded any of them but Caleb. + +[Illustration: Old Turk] + + + + +XXXII + +The New War Chief + + +Caleb had been very busy all the day before doing no one knew what, +and Saryann was busy, too. She had been very busy for long, but now +she was bustling. Then, it seems, Caleb had gone to Mrs. Raften, and +she was very busy, and Guy made a flying visit to Mrs. Burns, and +she had become busy. Thus they turned the whole neighbourhood into a +"bee." + +For this was Sanger, where small gatherings held the same place as the +club, theatre and newspaper do in the lives of city folk. No matter +what the occasion, a christening, wedding or funeral, a logging, a +threshing, a home-coming or a parting, the finishing of a new house +or the buying of a new harness or fanning-mill, any one of these was +ample grounds for one of their "talking bees"; so it was easy to set +the wheels a-running. + +At three o'clock three processions might have been seen wending +through the woods. One was from Burns's, including the whole family; +one from Raften's, comprising the family and the hired men; one from +Caleb's, made up of Saryann and many of the Boyles. All brought +baskets. + +They were seated in a circle on the pleasant grassy bank of the +pond. Caleb and Sam took charge of the ceremonies. First, there were +foot-races, in which Yan won in spite of his wounded arm, the city boy +making a good second; then target-shooting and "Deer-hunting," that +Yan could not take part in. It was not in the programme, but Raften +insisted on seeing Yan measure the height of a knot in a tree without +going to it, and grinned with delight when he found it was accurate. + +"Luk at that for eddication, Sam!" he roared. "When will ye be able to +do the like? Arrah, but ye're good stuff, Yan, an' I've got something +here'll plase ye." + +Raften now pulled out his purse and as magistrate paid over with +evident joy the $5 bounty due for killing the Lynx. Then he added: +"An' if it turns out as ye all claim" [and it did] "that this yer +beast is the Sheep-killer instid av old Turk, I'll add that other +tin." + +Thus Yan came into the largest sum be had ever owned in his life. + +Then the Indians went into their teepees. Caleb set up a stake in the +ground and on that a new shield of wood covered with rawhide; over the +rawhide was lightly fastened a piece of sacking. + +The guests were in a circle around this; at one side were some +skins--Yan's Lynx and Coon--and the two stuffed Owls. + +Then the drum was heard, "Tum-tum--tum-tum--tum-tum--tum-tum----" +There was a volley of war-whoops, and out of the teepees dashed the +Sanger Indians in full war paint. + + "Ki ki--ki yi--ki yi yi yi + Ki yi--ki yi--ki yi yi yi!" + +They danced in exact time to the two-measure of the drum that was +pounded by Blackhawk. Three times round the central post with the +shield they danced, then the drum stopped, and they joined in a grand +final war-whoop and squatted in a circle within that of the guests. + +The Great Woodpecker now arose--his mother had to be told who it +was--and made a characteristic speech: + +"Big Chiefs, Little Chiefs, and Squapooses of the Sanger Indians: A +number of things has happened to rob this yer nation of its noble Head +Chief; they kin never again expect to have his equal, but this yer +assembly is for to pick out a new one. We had a kind of whack at it +the other day, but couldn't agree. Since then we had a hard trip, and +things has cleared up some, same as puttin' Kittens in a pond will +tell which one is the swimmer, an' we're here to-day to settle it." + +Loud cries of "How--how--how--how--" while Blackhawk pounded the drum +vigorously. + +"O' course different ones has different gifts. Now who in all this +Tribe is the best runner? That's Little Beaver." + +("How--how--how--how--how--" and drum.) + +"That's my drum, Ma!" said Guy aside, forgetting to applaud. + +"Who is the best trailer and climber? Little Beaver, again, I reckon." + +("How--how--how--how--" and drum.) + +("He can't see worth a cent!" whispered Guy to his mother.) + +"Who was it won the trial of grit at Garney's grave? Why, it was +Little Beaver." + +("An' got pretty badly scared doin' it!" was Guy's aside.) + +"But who was it shot the Cat-Owl plumb in the heart, an' fit the Lynx +hand to hand, not to speak of the Coon? Little Beaver every time." + +("He never killed a Woodchuck in his life, Ma!") + +"Then, again, which of us can lay all the others on his back? Little +Beaver, I s'pose." + +("Well, I can lick Char-less, any time," was Guy's aside.) + +"Which of us has most _grand coups_ and scalps?" + +"Ye're forgittin' his eddication," put in Raften to be scornfully +ignored; even Little Beaver resented this as un-Indian. + +"Which has most scalps?" Sam repeated with sternness. "Here's a scalp +won in battle with the inimy," Woodpecker held it up, and the Medicine +Man fastened it on the edge of the shield that hung from the post. + +"Here is one tuk from the Head Chief of the hostiles," and Caleb +fastened that to the shield. "Here is another tuk from the Second +Chief of the hostiles," and Caleb placed it. "Here is one tuk from the +Great Head War Chief of the Sangers, and here is one from the Head +Chief of the Boilers, and another tuk in battle. Six scalps from six +famous warriors. This yere is the record for the whole Tribe, an' +Little Beaver done it; besides which, he draws pictures, writes +poethry and cooks purty good, an' I say Little Beaver is the one for +Chief! What says the rest?" and with one voice they shouted, "Hoorah +for Little Beaver!" + +"How--how--how--how--how--_thump, thump, thump, thump_." + +"Any feller anything to say agin it?" + +"I eh--" Guy began. + +--"has got to lick the Chief," Sam continued, and Guy did not complete +his objection, though he whispered to his mother, "If it was Char-less +I bet I'd show him." + +[Illustration: The shield] + +Caleb now pulled the cover off the shield that he fastened the scalps +to, and it showed the white Buffalo of the Sangers with a Little +Beaver above it. Then he opened a bundle lying near and produced a +gorgeous war-shirt of buff leather, a pair of leggins and moccasins, +all fringed, beaded and painted, made by Saryann under Caleb's +guidance. They were quickly put on the new Chief; his war bonnet, +splendid with the plumes of his recent exploits, was all ready; and +proud and happy in his new-found honours, not least of which were his +wounds, he stepped forward. + +[Illustration: Little Beaver, the New War Chief] + +Caleb viewed him with paternal pride and said: "I knowed ye was the +stuff the night ye went to Garney's grave, an' I knowed it again when +ye crossed the Big Swamp. Yan, ye could travel anywhere that man could +go," and in that sentence the boy's happiness was complete. He surely +was a Woodcrafter now. He stammered in a vain attempt to say something +appropriate, till Sam relieved him by: "Three cheers for the Head War +Chief!" and when the racket was over the women opened their baskets +and spread the picnic feast. Raften, who had been much gratified by +his son's flow of speech, recorded a new vow to make him study law, +but took advantage of the first gap in the chatter to say: + +"Bhise, ye'r two weeks' holiday with wan week extension was up at noon +to-day. In wan hour an' a half the Pigs is fed." + + * * * * * + + + + +INDEX + + +Arapahoes +Arrows-- + How to make + Individuality of +Arrow-wood + Illustration of +Ash-- + White + Illustration of + Black + +Bagg's, Widdy, place +Bald Eagle +Bald-Eagle-Settin'-on-a-Rock-with-his-Tail-Hangin'-over-the-Edge +Balsam +Balsam-fir +Balsam bark, used for tanning + Boughs for bed + Wood for rubbing-sticks + Illustration of +Banshee +Basswood + Usually hollow + Leaf illustration +Beavering +Bear hunt +Beaver River +Beech + Illustration of + Blue, illustration of +Biddy +Birch-- + White + Black + Canoe + Dishes + Mahogany + Sweet + Black +Illustration of +Blackbirds, Red-winged +Blackbird, purple (Jack) +Black Cherry + Lung balm + As a remedy +Blaze-- + Special + Road +Blood Robin +Blood Root +Bloody-Thundercloud-in-the-Afternoon +Bluebird +Blue-bottle Flies + Plague +Blue Cohosh +Blue Crane (Heron) +Blue-jay +Bobolink +Boilers +Boneset (Eupatorium perfoliatum) +Bow-- + How to make + Bowstring +Bow-drill Yan makes + How to light a fire with +Boyle Char-less +Burns, Guy + Is captured by Yan and Sam + Becomes a member of the tribe + His stuffed Deer + His test of courage + Kills the Woodchuck + Name changed to Hawkeye +Butterfly, black +Butternuts-- + Used for dyeing + +Caleb Clark + His description of a teepee + His Indian adventures + Makes Indian war bonnet + His standard of a good shot + He tells Yan how to find his way in the woods + Shows the boys how to skin a horse + and how to tan skin + How to make moccasins + His opinion of hunters and hunting + His marksmanship + Encounter with Mr. Raften on the coon hunt + Story of his quarrel with Mr. Raften + Encounter with Bill Hennard + Gets possession of his farm +Calfskins, sold by boys + Used as drum-heads + Tanning of +Cardinal flowers +Cat + Fight with Skunk + Adopts young Squirrels + Is caught in the ketch-alive +Catnip-- + Tea + How it cured the Cat +Cedar, +Cedar-birds +Char-less (Red-squirrel) +Chenopodium +Chipmunk + Sam's Chipmunk capture +Chickadee, cock +Choke-cherry +Clam shells +Cohosh +Connor, Kitty +Coon-- + Hairs + Hunt + Tracks +Cottonwood root + Indians use to light fires +Council, the Grand +Coup, Grand +Cow-bird +Crawfish +Creeper +Crow-- + Split tongue + Common, tracks of +Cuckoo, black-billed +Cypripedium + +Dachshund +Daddy Longlegs and the cows +Dam-- + The boys build +Dandelion roots + Coffee +Deer-- + Guy's stuffed + Shooting game +De Neuville, Granny + Mr. Raften buys her Pigs + Her love of flowers and birds + She prescribes for Sam's leg + Her herb lore + Her visit from the robbers +Dew-cloth +Digby, Cyrus, (Blue-jay) +Dipper +Dog-- + How to tell height by track +Dogans +Downey's Dump +Droserae (Fly-eating plants) +Ducks, flock of +Dyeing-- + With Butternuts + With Hemlock + With Goldthread + With Goldenrod + With Berries + With Pokeweed + With Elder shoots + With Oak chips + With Hickory bark + With Birch + With Dogwood + With Indigo herb + +Eagle Feathers + As worn by Indian Warriors +Elderberry-shoot, used for pipestem +Ellis, Bud, is cured by Lung Balm +Elm-- + Slippery + Swamp + Bark for teepees +Emmy Grants +Eupatorium perfoliatum (Boneset) + +Fire-- + How to light without matches + Right woods to use + Signal +Flicker + Illustration of nest +Flying-squirrel +Fox-- + His Rabbit hunt + Callaghan +Frogs + +Galium +Garney, Bill, grave of +Ginseng +Goldenrod-- + Used for dyeing + Usually points north +Golden Seal (Hydrastis Canadensis) +Goldthread +Graybird +Grip, the Dog +Gyascutus + +Hawk-- + Sharpshin + Fight with King-bird + Chicken + Red-shouldered + Sparrow +Hearne, Samuel +Hemlock, bark + Tree + Used for tanning +Henbane +Hennard, Bill +Herb-lore, Biddy's + Granny's +Heron (Blue Crane) +"Highbelier" +Hornet, blue +Horse, how to skin +Horse-hair-- + Turns to a snake +Humming-bird +Hydrastis Canadensis (Golden Seal) +Hyla pickeringii (Frog) + +Indian-- + Sense of smell + Teepees + Head-dresses + Telegram of good luck + Meaning of Eagle feathers + War bonnet + Ability to foretell storms + Games + Tests of eyes + Well + Drum + Smoke signs + Trail signs + Method of tanning skins + Paints + +Indian cucumber +Indian cup +Indian squaw-- + Yan's story of +Indian turnips +Indigo herb +Injun tobacco +Ironwood + +Jack-in-the-Pulpit +Jewel-flower +Jewelweed + +Ketchalive, how to make a +Kingbird + Fight with Hawk +Kingfishers +Kingroot + +Lancewood +Larry, how he made brooms +Lavender tea +Leatherwood +Lindera Benzoin (Spicebush) +Little Beaver +Lizard, Whistling +Lobelia +Long Swamp, trip to +Loon +Lung Balm +Lynx-- + Yan meets + Is killed in Long Swamp + +Mallard Duck +Mandrakes +Maple +Martins, Sand +"Massacrees" +May Apple +Mink-- + Kills Muskrat + How to catch +Minnie, makes peace between Yan and Sam +Minnow +Moccasin-- + How to make +Mosquitoes, how to keep out of teepee +Mouse, Field +Mud albums +Muskrat-- + Killed by Mink + Burrows hole in dam +Mussel shells + +Needles, made of Catfish bones +Niagara, Yan visits +North Star + +Oak, pick to make holes for sewing bark +Ojibwa +O'Leary, Phil +Osage orange +Oven bird +Owl, Stuffed + Hoot + Screech + Horned + Cat + Horned Owls, killed by Yan and Sam + How to stuff + +Parlour, the Raftens' +Partridge head for Mink bait +Peeper +Pelopaeus, Mud-wasp +Peter (Peetweet) +Pine +Pine Grosbeak +Pipsissewa +Pleiades +Pleurisy root +Pogue, Dick +Pokeweed +Prattisons +Prayer-sticks + +Rabbit, how he escaped the Fox +Rad-- + Unkindness to Yan + Goes Lynx-hunting with Yan +Raften, Bud +Raften, Mrs., + kindness to Yan +Raften, Wm., + His characteristics + Helps the boys make their bed in teepee + Makes friends with Caleb and helps him out of his trouble +Rail + Sora rails +Red Squirrels + Nest robbed by boys +Robin-- + Guy kills + +Sam-- + His collection of birds' eggs + He visits Granny de Neuville + His skill with the axe +Sander-- + Taxidermist's shop + Exhibit of birds +Sage-brush root, Indians use to light fires +Sandals, worn when Dear-hunting +Sanger-- + Account of settlers + Custom of framing coffin-plates +Santees (Sioux) +Sassafras +Scarlet Tanager +Sees Yan again at Granny de Neuville's +Sharp-shin +Shells-- + Mussel + Clam +Shore-lark +Meadow-lark, pursued by Hawk +Shrew, Yan finds body of +Si Lee + Teaches the boys how to stuff Horned Owls +Skunk, fight with Cat +Skunk Cabbage +Skunk-root +Smoke, signs used by Indians +Snake, dies at sundown +Snipe, Teetering (Tipup) +"Sorry-plant" +Sparrow-- + Vesper + Song +Sparrow-hawk +Spear-mint +Spicewood (Lindera Benzoin) +Spider, kill a spider to make it rain +Squaw berries +Stramonium +Superstitious sayings, Biddy's +Swallows, shooting + Keep off lightning + +Taxidermy, Si Lee gives a lesson in +Teepee-- + Is begun + Does not prove satisfactory, smokes + Is blown down + Caleb Clark's description + Second teepee is begun + Storm-cap + How to place poles and ropes + Should face east + How to secure in a storm +Toads, give warts +Trails-- + Paper + Corn + Signs of +Trees, points of compass indicated by + How to tell height by shadow + How to measure distance between trees +Tree-frog +Turkey feathers for arrows +Turtle, mud +Tutnee + +Umbil, or "Sterrick-root" + +Veery +Vireo, Red-eyed + +Wakan Rock +War bonnets +Wasp, mud +Wesley (Blackhawk) +Whangerdoodle +Whippoorwill +White-man's Foot +White Oak pins for teepee +Whooping Crane +Willow, withes for tying teepee poles +Wind, how to tell direction of +Wintergreen +Witch-hazel-- + Will find water + Granny de Neuville's medicine +Woodchuck-- + Sam's story + Guy kills the old Woodchuck +Wood-duck +Wood-mouse +Wood-peewee +Woodpecker, Red-headed +Worm, measuring +Wormweed + +Yan-- + Homelife + His attempts to buy Owl + Love for spring + How he made the last dime for his first nature book + His meeting with the unknown naturalist + Discovery of Glenyan + Building of the shanty + Imitation of Indians + Makes a drawing of a Hawk + Identifies Coon-hairs + Is made ill by chewing leaves of strange plant + His list of trees + Tries to kill Wood-mouse + Makes a pipe and learns to smoke + Is punished for caricaturing his teacher + Finds his shanty destroyed by tramps + His illness + Begins to recover and visits Glenyan + His adventure with a Lynx + Takes Rad hunting + Is reproved by his mother for killing the Shore-lark + He goes to Sanger + His duties + He sees Sam's treasures + He and Sam begin the teepee + They light a fire in the teepee + Which smokes them out + They find the teepee blown down + Their visit to Granny de Neuville + Yan sees Biddy again + They visit Caleb Clark + They begin their second teepee + The canvas is sewn by Si Lee + Caleb teaches them to light a fire without matches + First fire in new teepee + They make bows and arrows; practice with them + They build a dam + Yan's story of the Indian squaw + He visits the Sanger Witch again + Takes dinner with her + They capture Guy Burns; admit him into the Tribe + Yan fights Sam and Guy + Comes to the assistance of the school trustees + Goes with Sam to live in the teepee for two weeks + Their first night in the woods + They are joined by Guy + Their foraging trip + Their Deer-shooting game + Their visit from Caleb + They sun their blankets + How they kept off Mosquitoes + They clean their camp + Carry their remnants of food to Wakan Rock + Dig an Indian well + Make an Indian drum + Yan sees fight between Cat and Skunk + They destroy a Red-squirrel's nest + He learns to build signal fire + Caleb tells him how to find his way in the woods + The boys learn how to tan skins + And how to make moccasins + Makes a ketchalive + Their visit from Mr. Raften + Yan's story of the Boy-that-wanted-to-know + The trip to Downey's Dump + They kill two Horned Owls + Si Lee gives them a lesson in taxidermy + Yan's test of grit + He draws the tracks near Bill Garney's grave + The Grand Council + The Coon-hunt + The Bear-hunt + Yan finds a Shrew + Is ill-treated by Bill Hennard + Trouble with the Boilers + He wins the fight with Blackhawk + The Boilers join the Sangers + Yan beats the city boy in wrestling-match + They start on hard trip + Yan and Pete make an exploring trip + Yan finds the Indian village + His fight with the Lynx + Receives bounty for killing lynx + Is made War Chief +Yan's Mother-- + Her morbidly religious nature + She reproves Yan for killing Shore-lark +Yellow Warbler +Yew-- + Spanish + Oregon + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO LITTLE SAVAGES*** + + +******* This file should be named 13499.txt or 13499.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/4/9/13499 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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