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diff --git a/27933-h/27933-h.htm b/27933-h/27933-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ca6365 --- /dev/null +++ b/27933-h/27933-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6416 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Forest Neighbors, by William Davenport Hulbert</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%; font-style: italic;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 20%; text-align: right;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em; font-weight: bold;} + .cap:first-letter { font-size: 200%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Forest Neighbors, by William Davenport +Hulbert, Illustrated by A. R. Dugmore, Walter M. Hardy, Gleeson, and +Arthur Hemming</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Forest Neighbors</p> +<p> Life Stories of Wild Animals</p> +<p>Author: William Davenport Hulbert</p> +<p>Release Date: January 29, 2009 [eBook #27933]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOREST NEIGHBORS***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Emmy,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 321px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="321" height="500" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div><hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> + + + +<h1>FOREST NEIGHBORS</h1> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='poem'> +<i>"And the Northern Lights come down,</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>To dance with the houseless snow;</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>And God, Who clears the grounding berg,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>And steers the grinding floe,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;"><i>He hears the cry of the little kit-fox,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;"><i>And the lemming, on the snow."</i></span><br /> +</div> +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Rudyard Kipling.</span><br /></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 263px;"> +<img src="images/gs001.jpg" width="263" height="400" alt="The Beaver Lumbering." title="" /> +<span class="caption">The Beaver Lumbering.</span> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + + + +<h1>FOREST NEIGHBORS</h1> + +<h2>LIFE STORIES OF WILD ANIMALS</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>WILLIAM DAVENPORT HULBERT</h2> +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<div class='center'><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></div> +<hr style="width: 25%;" /> +<div class='center'> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Garden City</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">New York</span><br /> +1914<br /></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1900, 1901, and 1902, by</span><br /> +THE S. S. McCLURE CO.<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1902, by</span><br /> +DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO.<br /></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></p> + +<div class='center'> +<i>To my Sister</i><br /> +KATHARINE GRACE HULBERT<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Introduction</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_xi">xi</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Biography of a Beaver</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The King of the Trout Stream</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Strenuous Life of a Canada Lynx</span> </td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pointers from a Porcupine Quill</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_125">125</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Adventures of a Loon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_163">163</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Making of a Glimmerglass Buck</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="List of Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'>The Beaver Lumbering</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_iii"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"On the grass in the warm, quiet sunshine of an autumn afternoon"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Building the Dam</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Nesting Grounds</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"He tried jumping out of the water"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"The hole was suddenly darkened, and a round, hairy face looked in"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_100">100</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"He was a very presentable young lynx"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"They both stood still and looked at each other"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"High up in the top of a tall hemlock"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"He quickly made his way to the beach"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"He went under as simply as you would step out of bed"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"She herself was a rarely beautiful sight"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_170">170</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"The old earth sliding southward fifty miles an hour"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"He was a baby to be proud of"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"The buck was nearing the prime of life"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"Wherever they went they were always struggling and fighting"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p> + +<h2><i>INTRODUCTION</i></h2> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[xii]</a></span><br /><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='cap'>Some <i>thirty years ago, while out on one of his landlooking +trips in the woods of Northern Michigan, my father +came upon a little lake which seemed to him the loveliest +that he had ever seen, though he had visited many in the +course of his explorations. The wild ponds are very apt +to be shallow and muddy, with low, marshy shores; but +this one was deep and clear, and its high banks were +clothed with a splendid growth of beech, maple and +birch. Tall elms stood guard along the water's edge, +and here and there the hardwood forest was broken by +dark hemlock groves, and groups of lordly pine-trees, +lifting their great green heads high above their deciduous +neighbors. Only in one place, around the extreme eastern +end, the ground was flat and wet; and there the tamarack +swamp showed golden yellow in October, and light, delicate +green in late spring. Wild morning-glories grew on the +grassy point that put out from the northern shore, and in +the bays the white water-lilies were blossoming. Nearly two +miles long and three-quarters of a mile wide, it lay basking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</a></span> +and shimmering in the sunshine, a big, broad, beautiful +sheet of water set down in the very heart of the woods.</i></div> + +<p><i>There were no settlers anywhere near, nor even any +Indians, yet there was no lack of inhabitants. Bears and +wolves and a host of smaller animals were to be found, and +along the shores were runways that had been worn deep +in the soil by the tread of generation after generation of +dainty little cloven hoofs. I suppose that some of those +paths have been used by the deer for hundreds, and perhaps +thousands, of years.</i></p> + +<p><i>The lands around the entire lake were offered for sale +by the United States Government at the ridiculously low +price which Uncle Sam has asked for most of his possessions; +and with the help of some friends my father bought +the whole shore. During the years which followed he was +occupied in various ways, and some of the best recollections +of my boyhood are of the days and the nights which I spent +with him on his fishing-tug, steaming about the Straits of +Mackinac and the northern part of Lake Huron. But he +could not forget the Glimmerglass, that little wild lake up +in the woods. He had fallen in love with it at first sight, +and at last he took his family and went there to live.</i></p> + +<p><i>Human neighbors were scarce around the lake, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[xv]</a></span> +perhaps that was one reason why we took such a lively +interest in the other residents—those who were there ahead +of us. "Him and me's chums," my small sister said of +the red-squirrel that hung around the log-barn. And some +of the animals seemed to take a very lively interest in us. +The chipmunks came into the house occasionally, on foraging +expeditions; and so, I regret to say, did the skunks. +There was a woodchuck who used to come to the back door, +looking for scraps, and who learned to sit bolt upright +and hold a pancake in his fore paws while he nibbled at it, +without being in the least disturbed by the presence and the +comments of half a dozen spectators. The porcupines +became a never-ending nuisance, for they made almost +nightly visits to the woodshed. To kill them was of little +use, for the next night—or perhaps before morning—there +were others to take their places. Once in a while one of +them would climb up onto the roof of the house; and +between his teeth and his feet and the rattling of his quills +on the shingles, the racket that he made was out of all proportion +to his size.</i></p> + +<div class='poem'> +It is sweet to lie at evening in your little trundle-bed,<br /> +And to listen to a porky gnawing shingles overhead;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Porky, porky, porky, porky;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gnawing shingles overhead.</span><br /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[xvi]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>The wolves had been pretty nearly exterminated since my +father's first visit to the lake, and we saw little or nothing +of them. The bears seemed to be more numerous, but they +were very shy and retiring. We found their tracks more +often than we came upon the animals themselves. Some of +the cat tribe remained, and occasionally placed themselves in +evidence. My brother came in one day from a long tramp +on snow-shoes, and told how he had met one of them standing +guard over the remains of a deer, and how the lynx +had held him up and made him go around. Beavers were +getting scarce, though a few were still left on the more +secluded streams. Deer, on the contrary, were very plentiful. +Many a time they invaded our garden-patch and +helped themselves to our fresh vegetables.</i></p> + +<p><i>One August afternoon a flock of eight young partridges, +of that spring's hatching, coolly marched out of the woods +and into the clearing, as if they were bent on investigating +their new neighbors. Partridges appear to be subject to +occasional fits of stupidity, and to temporary (or possibly +permanent) loss of common-sense; but it may be that in +this case the birds were too young and inexperienced to realize +what they were doing. Or perhaps they knew that it +was Sunday, and that the rules of the household forbade<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[xvii]</a></span> +shooting on that day. If so, their confidence was sadly +misplaced. We didn't shoot them, but we did surround +them, and by working carefully and cautiously we +"shooed" them into an empty log-house. And the next +day we had them for dinner.</i></p> + +<p><i>Around the shores of the Glimmerglass a few loons and +wild-ducks usually nested, and in the autumn the large +flocks from the Far North often stopped there for short +visits, on their way south for the winter. They were more +sociable than you would suppose—or at least the loons were—and +the same small girl who had made friends with the +red-squirrel learned to talk to the big birds.</i></p> + +<p><i>Down in the water the herring and a large species of +salmon trout made their homes, and probably enjoyed themselves +till they met with the gill-net and the trolling-hook. +But herring and salmon trout did not satisfy us; we +wanted brook trout, too. And so one day a shipment of +babies arrived from the hatchery at Sault Ste. Marie, and +thus we first became acquainted with the habits of infant +fishes, and learned something of their needs and the methods +of their foster-parents.</i></p> + +<p><i>One after another our neighbors introduced themselves, +each in his own way. And they were good neighbors, all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[xviii]</a></span> +of them. Even the porcupines and the skunks were interesting—in +their peculiar fashion—and I wish there were +none worse than they in the city's slums.</i></p> + +<p><i>I have said good-by to the Glimmerglass, and it may be +that I shall never again make my home by its shores. But +the life of the woods goes on, and will still go on as long +as man will let it. I suppose that, even as I write, the +bears are "holeing up" for the winter, and the deer are +growing anxious because the snow is covering the best of +their food, and they of the cat tribe are getting down to +business, and hunting in deadly earnest. The loons and +the ducks have pulled out for the Gulf of Mexico, and the +squirrels are glad that they have such a goodly store of +nuts laid up for the next four months. The beavers have +retired to their lodges—that is, if Charley Roop and his +fellows have left any of them alive. The partridges—well, +the partridges will just have to get along the best way they +can. I guess they'll pull through somehow. The porcupines +are all right, as you will presently see if you read this +book. They don't have to worry. Down in the bed of the +trout stream the trout eggs are getting ready—getting +ready. And out on the lake itself the frost is at work, +and the ice-sheet is forming, and under that cold, white lid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[xix]</a></span> +the Glimmerglass will wait till another year brings round +another spring-time—the spring-time that will surely come +to all of us if only we hold on long enough.</i></p> + +<p><i>Chicago, December, 1901.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE BIOGRAPHY OF A BEAVER</h2> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='cap'>A BROAD, flat tail came down on the water with a +whack that sent the echoes flying back and forth across +the pond, and its owner ducked his head, arched his back, +and dived to the bottom. It was a very curious tail, for +besides being so oddly paddle-shaped it was covered with +what looked like scales, but were really sections and indentations +of hard, horny, blackish-gray skin. Except its +owner's relations, there was no one else in all the animal +kingdom who had one like it. But the strangest thing +about it was the many different ways in which he used it. +Just now it was his rudder—and a very good rudder, too.</div> + +<p>In a moment his little brown head reappeared, and he +and his brothers and sisters went chasing each other +round and round the pond, ducking and diving and +splashing, raising such a commotion that they sent the +ripples washing all along the grassy shores, and having +the jolliest kind of a time. It isn't the usual thing for +young beavers to be out in broad daylight, but all this +happened in the good old days before the railways came,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +when northern Michigan was less infested with men than +it is now.</p> + +<p>When the youngsters wanted a change they climbed up +onto a log, and nudged and hunched each other, poking +their noses into one another's fat little sides, and each +trying to shove his brother or sister back into the water. +By and by they scrambled out on the bank, and then, when +their fur had dripped a little, they set to work to comb +it. Up they sat on their hind legs and tails—the tail +was a stool now, you see—and scratched their heads and +shoulders with the long brown claws of their small, black, +hairy hands. Then the hind feet came up one at a time, +and combed and stroked their sides till the moisture was +gone and the fur was soft and smooth and glossy as +velvet. After that they had to have another romp. +They were not half as graceful on land as they had been +in the water. In fact they were not graceful at all, and +the way they stood around on their hind legs, and shuffled, +and pranced, and wheeled like baby hippopotami, +and slapped the ground with their tails, was one of the +funniest sights in the heart of the woods. And the funniest +and liveliest of them all was the one who owned that +tail—the tail which, when I last saw it, was lying on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +the ground in front of Charlie Roop's shack. He was +the one whom I shall call the Beaver—with a big B.</p> + +<p>But even young beavers will sometimes grow tired of +play, and at last they all lay down on the grass in the +warm, quiet sunshine of the autumn afternoon. The +wind had gone to sleep, the pond glittered like steel in +its bed of grassy beaver-meadow, the friendly woods stood +guard all around, the enemy was far away, and it was a +very good time for five furry little babies to take a nap.</p> + +<p>The city in which the tail first made its appearance was +a very ancient one, and may have been the oldest town on +the North American continent. Nobody knows when +the first stick was laid in the dam that changed a small +natural pond into a large artificial one, and thus opened +the way for further municipal improvements; but it was +probably centuries ago, and for all we can tell it may +have been thousands of years back in the past. Generation +after generation of beavers had worked on that dam, +building it a little higher and a little higher, a little +longer and a little longer, year after year; and raising +their lodges as the pond rose around them. Theirs was +a maritime city, for most of its streets were of water, like +those of Venice; rich cargoes of food-stuffs came floating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +to its very doors, and they themselves were navigators +from their earliest youth, and took to the water as naturally +as ducks or Englishmen. They were lumbermen, +too, and when the timber was all cut from along the +shores of the pond they dug canals across the low, level, +marshy ground, back to the higher land where the birch +and the poplar still grew, and floated the branches and +the smaller logs down the artificial water-ways. And +there were land roads, as well as canals, for here and +there narrow trails crossed the swamp, showing where +generations of busy workers had passed back and forth +between the felled tree and the water's edge. Streets, +canals, public works, dwellings, commerce, lumbering, +rich stores laid up for the winter—what more do you +want to constitute a city, even if the houses are few in +number, and the population somewhat smaller than that +of London or New York?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs002.jpg" width="500" height="326" alt=""On the grass in the warm, quiet sunshine of an autumn afternoon."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"On the grass in the warm, quiet sunshine of an autumn afternoon."</span> +</div> + +<p>There was a time, not very long before the Beaver was +born, when for a few years the city was deserted. The +trappers had swept through the country, and the citizens' +skulls had been hung up on the bushes, while their skins +went to the great London fur market. Few were left alive, +and those few were driven from their homes and scattered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +through the woods. The trappers decided that the ground +was worked out, and most of them pushed on to the north +and west in search of regions not yet depopulated. Then, +one by one, the beavers came back to their old haunts. +The broken dam was repaired; new lodges were built, and +new beavers born in them; and again the ancient town was +alive with the play of the babies and the labors of the civil +engineers. Not as populous, perhaps, as it had once been, +but alive, and busy, and happy. And so it was when our +Beaver came into the world.</p> + +<p>The first year of his life was an easy one, especially the +winter, when there was little for anyone to do except to +eat, to sleep, and now and then to fish for the roots of the +yellow water-lily in the soft mud at the bottom of the +pond. During that season he probably accomplished +more than his parents did, for if he could not toil he could +at least grow. Of course they may have been growing, +too, but it was less noticeable in them than in him. Not +only was he increasing in size and weight, but he was storing +up strength and strenuousness for the work that lay +before him. It would take much muscle to force those +long yellow teeth of his through the hard, tough flesh of +the maple or the birch or the poplar. It would take vigor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +and push and enterprise to roll the heavy billets of wood +over the grass-tufts to the edge of the water. And, most +of all, it would take strength and nerve and determination +to tear himself away from a steel trap and leave a foot +behind. So it was well for the youngster that for a time +he had nothing to do but grow.</p> + +<p>Spring came at last, and many of the male beavers prepared +to leave home for a while. The ladies seemed to +prefer not to be bothered by the presence of men-folk +during the earliest infancy of the children; so the men, +probably nothing loath, took advantage of the opportunity +to see something of the world, wandering by night +up and down the streams, and hiding by day in burrows +under the banks. For a time they enjoyed it, but as the +summer dragged by they came straggling home one after +another. The new babies who had arrived in their +absence had passed the most troublesome age, and it was +time to begin work again. The dam and the lodges +needed repairs, and there was much food to be gathered +and laid up for the coming winter.</p> + +<p>Now, on a dark autumn night, behold the young Beaver +toiling with might and main. His parents have felled a +tree, and it is his business to help them cut up the best<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +portions and carry them home. He gnaws off a small +branch, seizes the butt end between his teeth, swings it +over his shoulder, and makes for the water, keeping his +head twisted around to the right or left so that the end +of the branch may trail on the ground behind him. Sometimes +he even rises on his hind legs, and walks almost upright, +with his broad, strong tail for a prop to keep him +from tipping over backward if his load happens to catch +on something. Arrived at the canal or at the edge of the +pond, he jumps in and swims for town, still carrying the +branch over his shoulder, and finally leaves it on the growing +pile in front of his father's lodge. Or perhaps the +stick is too large and too heavy to be carried in such a +way. In that case it must be cut into short billets and +rolled, as a cant-hook man rolls a log down a skidway. +Only the Beaver has no cant-hook to help him, and no +skidway, either. All he can do is to push with all his +might, and there are so many, many grass-tufts and little +hillocks in the way! And sometimes the billet rolls down +into a hollow, and then it is very hard to get it out again. +He works like a beaver, and pushes and shoves and toils +with tremendous energy, but I am afraid that more than +one choice stick never reaches the water.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>These were his first tasks. Later on he learned to fell +trees himself. Standing up on his hind legs and tail, with +his hands braced against the trunk, he would hold his head +sidewise, open his mouth wide, set his teeth against the +bark, and bring his jaws together with a savage nip that +left a deep gash in the side of the tree. A second nip +deepened the gash, and gave it more of a downward slant, +and two or three more carried it still farther into the +tough wood. Then he would choose a new spot a little +farther down, and start a second gash, which was made +to slant up toward the first. And when he thought +that they were both deep enough he would set his teeth +firmly in the wood between them, and pull and jerk and +twist at it until he had wrenched out a chip—a chip perhaps +two inches long, and from an eighth to a quarter of an +inch thick. He would make bigger ones when he grew to +be bigger himself, but you mustn't expect too much at first. +Chip after chip was torn out in this way, and gradually +he would work around the tree until he had completely +encircled it. Then the groove was made deeper, and after +a while it would have to be broadened so that he could +get his head farther into it. He seemed to think it was +of immense importance to get the job done as quickly as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +possible, for he worked away with tremendous energy and +eagerness, as if felling that tree was the only thing in the +world that was worth doing. Once in a while he would +pause for a moment to feel of it with his hands, and to +glance up at the top to see whether it was getting ready +to fall, and several times he stopped long enough to take +a refreshing dip in the pond; but he always hurried back, +and pitched in again harder than ever. In fact, he sometimes +went at it so impetuously that he slipped and rolled +over on his back. Little by little he dug away the tree's +flesh until there was nothing left but its heart, and at last +it began to crack and rend. The Beaver jumped aside to +get out of the way, and hundreds and hundreds of small, +tender branches, and delicious little twigs and buds came +crashing down where he could cut them off and eat them +or carry them away at his leisure.</p> + +<p>And so the citizens labored, and their labor brought its +rich reward, and everybody was busy and contented, and +life was decidedly worth living.</p> + +<p>But one black November night our hero's father, the +wisest old beaver in all the town, went out to his work +and never came home again. A trapper had found the +rebuilt city—a scientific trapper who had studied his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +profession for years, and who knew just how to go to +work. He kept away from the lodges as long as he +could, so as not to frighten anyone; and before he set +a single trap he looked the ground over very carefully, +located the different trails that ran back from the water's +edge toward the timber, visited the stumps of the felled +trees, and paid particular attention to the tooth-marks +on the chips. No two beavers leave marks that are +exactly alike. The teeth of one are flatter or rounder +than those of another, while a third has large or small +nicks in the edges of his yellow chisels; and each tooth +leaves its own peculiar signature behind it. By noting +all these things the trapper concluded that a particular +runway in the wet, grassy margin of the pond was the +one by which a certain old beaver always left the water +in going to his night's labor. That beaver, he decided, +would best be the first one taken, for he was probably the +head of a family, and an elderly person of much wisdom +and experience; and if one of his children should be +caught first he might become alarmed, and take the lead +in a general exodus.</p> + +<p>So the trapper set a heavy double-spring trap in the +edge of the water at the foot of the runway, and covered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +it with a thin sheet of moss. And that night, as the old +beaver came swimming up to the shore, he put his foot +down where he shouldn't, and two steel jaws flew up and +clasped him around the thigh. He had felt that grip +before. Was not half of his right hand gone, and three +toes from his left hind foot? But this was a far more +serious matter than either of those adventures. It was +not a hand that was caught this time, nor yet a toe, or +toes. It was his right hind leg, well up toward his +body, and the strongest beaver that ever lived could not +have pulled himself free. Now when a beaver is frightened, +he of course makes for deep water. There, he +thinks, no enemy can follow him; and, what is more, it +is the highway to his lodge, and to the burrow that he +has hollowed in the bank for a refuge in case his house +should be attacked. So this beaver turned and jumped +back into the water the way he had come; but, alas! he +took his enemy with him. The heavy trap dragged him +to the bottom like a stone, and the short chain fastened +to a stake kept him from going very far toward home. +For a few minutes he struggled with all his might, and +the soft black mud rose about him in inky clouds. Then +he quieted down and lay very, very still; and the next<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +day the trapper came along and pulled him out by the +chain.</p> + +<p>Something else happened the same night. Another +wise old beaver, the head man of another lodge, was +killed by a falling tree. He ought to have known better +than to let such a thing happen. I really don't see how +he could have been so careless. But the best of us will +make mistakes at times, and any pitcher may go once too +often to the well. I suppose that he had felled hundreds +of trees and bushes, big and little, in the course of his +life, and he had never yet met with an accident; but this +time he thought he would take one more bite after the +tree had really begun to fall. So he thrust his head +again into the narrowing notch, and the wooden jaws +closed upon him with a nip that was worse than his own. +He tried to draw back, but it was too late, his skull +crashed in, and his life went out like a candle.</p> + +<p>And so, in a few hours, the city lost two of its best +citizens—the very two whom it could least afford to lose. +If they had been spared they might, perhaps, have +known enough to scent the coming danger, and to lead +their families and neighbors away from the doomed +town, deeper into the heart of the wilderness. As it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +was, the trapper had things all his own way, and by +working carefully and cautiously he added skin after skin +to his store of beaver-pelts. I haven't time to tell you +of all the different ways in which he set his traps, nor +can we stop to talk of the various baits that he used, +from castoreum to fresh sticks of birch or willow, or of +those other traps, still more artfully arranged, which had +no bait at all, but were cunningly hidden where the poor +beavers would be almost certain to step into them before +they saw them. After all, it was his awful success that +mattered, rather than the way in which he achieved it. +Our friend's mother was one of the next to go, and the +way his brothers and sisters disappeared one after another +was a thing to break one's heart.</p> + +<p>One night the Beaver himself came swimming down the +pond, homeward bound, and as he dived and approached +the submarine entrance of the lodge he noticed some +stakes driven into the mud—stakes that had never been +there before. They seemed to form two rows, one on +each side of his course, but as there was room enough +for him to pass between them he swam straight ahead +without stopping. His hands had no webs between the +fingers, and were of little use in swimming, so he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +folded them back against his body; but his big feet +were working like the wheels of a twin-screw steamer, +and he was forging along at a great rate. Suddenly, +half-way down the lines of stakes, his breast touched the +pan of a steel trap, and the jaws flew up quick as a +wink and strong as a vise. Fortunately there was nothing +that they could take hold of. They struck him so +hard that they lifted him bodily upward, but they +caught only a few hairs.</p> + +<p>Even a scientific trapper may sometimes make mistakes, +and when this one came around to visit his trap, and +found it sprung but empty, he thought that the beavers +must have learned its secret and sprung it on purpose. +There was no use, he decided, in trying to catch such intelligent +animals in their own doorway, and he took the +trap up and set it in a more out-of-the-way place. And +so one source of danger was removed, just because the +Beaver was lucky enough to touch the pan with his +breast instead of with a foot.</p> + +<p>A week later he was really caught by his right hand, +and met with one of the most thrilling adventures of his +life. Oh, but that was a glorious night! Dark as a +pocket, no wind, thick black clouds overhead, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +rain coming down in a steady, steady drizzles—just the +kind of a night that the beavers love, when the friendly +darkness shuts their little city in from all the rest of the +world, and when they feel safe and secure. Then, how +the long yellow teeth gouge and tear at the tough wood, +how the trees come tumbling down, and how the branches +and the little logs come hurrying in to augment the winter +food-piles! Often of late the Beaver had noticed an +unpleasant odor along the shores, an odor that frightened +him and made him very uneasy, but to-night the rain +had washed it all away, and the woods smelled as sweet +and clean as if God had just made them over new. And +on this night, of all others, the Beaver put his hand +squarely into a steel trap.</p> + +<p>He was in a shallow portion of the pond, and the chain +was too short for him to reach water deep enough to +drown him; but now a new danger appeared, for there +on the low, mossy bank was an otter, glaring at him +through the darkness. Beaver-meat makes a very acceptable +meal for an otter, and the Beaver knew it. And +he knew, also, how utterly helpless he was, either to fly +or to resist, with that heavy trap on his arm, and its +chain binding him to the stake. His heart sank like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +lead, and he trembled from his nose to the end of his +tail, and whimpered and cried like a baby. But, +strange to say, it was the trapper who saved him, though, +of course, it was done quite unintentionally. As the +otter advanced to the attack there came a sudden sharp +click, and in another second he too was struggling for +dear life. Two traps had been set in the shallow +water. The Beaver had found one, and the otter the +other.</p> + +<p>The full story of that night, with all its details of fear +and suffering and pain, will never be written; and probably +it is as well that it should not be. But I can give you +a few of the facts, if you care to hear them. The Beaver +soon found that he was out of the otter's reach, and with +his fears relieved on that point he set to work to free himself +from the trap. Round and round he twisted, till there +came a little snap, and the bone of his arm broke short off +in the steel jaws. Then for a long, long time he pulled +and pulled with all his might, and at last the tough skin +was rent apart, and the muscles and sinews were torn out +by the roots. His right hand was gone, and he was so +weak and faint that it seemed as if all the strength and +life of his whole body had gone with it. No matter. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +was free, and he swam away to the nearest burrow and +lay down to rest. The otter tried to do the same, but he +was caught by the thick of his thigh, and his case was a +hopeless one. Next day the trapper found him alive, but +very meek and quiet, worn out with fear and useless +struggles. In the other trap were a beaver's hand and +some long shreds of flesh and sinew that must once have +reached well up into the shoulder.</p> + +<p>We shall have to hurry over the events of the next winter—the +last winter in the city's history. By the time the +Beaver's wound was healed—Nature was good to him, and +the skin soon grew over the torn stump—the pond was +covered with ice. The beavers, only half as numerous as +they had been a few weeks before, kept close in their +lodges and burrows, and for a time they lived in peace and +quiet, and their numbers suffered no further diminution. +Then the trapper took to setting his traps through the +ice, and before long matters were worse than ever. By +spring the few beavers that remained were so thoroughly +frightened that the ancient town was again abandoned—this +time forever. The lodges fell to ruins, the burrows +caved in, the dam gave way, the pond and canals were +drained, and that was the end of the city.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p>Yet not quite the end, after all. The beavers have vanished +from their old habitation, but their work remains +in the broad meadows cleared of timber by their teeth, +and covered with rich black soil by the inundations from +their dam. There is an Indian legend which says that +after the Creator separated the land from the water He +employed gigantic beavers to smooth it down and prepare +it for the abode of men. However that may be, the farmers +of generations to come will have reason to rise up +and bless those busy little citizens—but I don't suppose +they will ever do it.</p> + +<p>One city was gone, but there were two that could +claim the honor of being our Beaver's home at different +periods of his life. The first, as we have already seen, +was ancient and historic. The second was brand-new. +Let us see how it had its beginning. The Beaver got +married about the time he left his old home; and this, by +the way, is a very good thing to do when you want to +start a new town. Except for his missing hand, his wife +was so like him that it would have puzzled you to tell +which was which. I think it is very likely that she was +his twin sister, but of course that's none of our business. +Do you want to know what they looked like? They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +measured about three feet six inches from tip of nose to +tip of tail, and they weighed perhaps thirty pounds +apiece. Their bodies were heavy and clumsy, and were +covered with thick, soft, grayish under-fur, which in turn +was overlaid with longer hairs of a glistening chestnut-brown, +making a coat that was thoroughly water-proof as +well as very beautiful. Their heads were somewhat like +those of gigantic rats, with small, light-brown eyes, little +round ears covered with hair, and long orange-colored incisors +looking out from between parted lips. One portrait +will answer for both of them.</p> + +<p>They wandered about for some time, looking for a suitable +location, and examining several spots along the beds of +various little rivers, none of which seemed to be just right. +But at last they found, in the very heart of the wilderness, +a place where a shallow stream ran over a hard stony bottom, +and here they set to work. It was a very desirable +situation in every respect. At one side stood a large +tree, so close that it could probably be used as a buttress +for the dam when the latter was sufficiently lengthened to +reach it; while above the shallow the ground was low and +flat on both sides for some distance back from the banks, +so that the pond would have plenty of room to spread<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +out. If they could have spoken they would probably +have said that the place was a dam site better than any +other they had seen.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs003.jpg" width="500" height="317" alt="Building the Dam." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Building the Dam.</span> +</div> + +<p>Alder bushes laid lengthwise of the current were the first +materials used, and for a time the water filtered through +them with hardly a pause. Then the beavers began laying +mud and stones and moss on this brush foundation, +scooping them up with their hands, and holding them +under their chins as they waddled or swam to the dam. +The Beaver himself was not very good at this sort of +work, for his right hand was gone, as we know, and it +was not easy for him to carry things; but he did the best +he could, and together they accomplished a great deal. +The mud and the grass and such-like materials were +deposited mainly on the upper face of the dam, where +the pressure of the water only sufficed to drive them +tighter in among the brush; and thus, little by little, a +smooth bank of earth was presented to the current, +backed up on the lower side by a tangle of sticks and +poles. Its top was very level and straight, and along its +whole length the water trickled over in a succession of +tiny rills. This was important, for if all the overflow +had been in one place the stream might have been so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +strong and rapid as to eat into the dam, and perhaps +carry away the whole structure.</p> + +<p>The first year the beavers did not try to raise the stream +more than a foot above its original level. There was +much other work to be done—a house to be built, and +food to be laid in for the winter—and if they spent too +much time on the dam they might freeze or starve before +spring. A few rods up-stream was a grassy point which +the rising waters had transformed into an island, and here +they built their lodge, a hollow mound of sticks and mud, +with a small, cave-like chamber in the centre, from which +two tunnels led out under the pond—"angles," the trappers +call them. The walls were masses of earth and +wood and stones, so thick and solid that even a man with +an axe would have found it difficult to penetrate them. +Only at the very apex of the mound there was no mud, +nothing but tangled sticks through which a breath of +fresh air found its way now and then. In spite of this +feeble attempt at ventilation I am obliged to admit that +the atmosphere of the lodge was often a good deal like +that of the Black Hole of Calcutta, but beavers are so +constituted that they do not need much oxygen, and they +did not seem to mind it. In all other respects the house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +was neat and clean. The floor was only two or three +inches above the level of the water in the angles, and +would naturally have been a bed of mud; but they mixed +little twigs with it, and stamped and pounded it down +till it was hard and smooth. I think likely the Beaver's +tail had something to do with this part of the work, as +well as with finishing off the dam, for he was fond of +slapping things with it, and it was just the right shape +for such use. In fact, I fear that if it had not been for +the tail, and for other tails like it, neither of the cities +would ever have been as complete as they were. With +the ends of projecting sticks cut off to leave the walls +even and regular, and with long grass carried in to make +the beds, the lodge was finished and ready.</p> + +<p>And now you might have seen the beavers coming home +to rest after a night's labor at felling timber—swimming +across the pond toward the island, with only the tops +of their two little heads showing above the water. In +front of the lodge each tail-rudder gives a slap and a +twist, and they dive for the submarine door of one of the +angles. In another second they are swimming along the +dark, narrow tunnel, making the water surge around +them. Suddenly the roof of the passage rises, and their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +heads pop up into the air. A yard or two farther, and +they enter the chamber of the lodge, with its level floor +and its low, arched roof. And there in the darkness +they lie down on their grass beds and go to sleep. It is +good to have a home of your own where you may take +your ease when the night's work is done.</p> + +<p>Near the upper end of the pond, where the bank was +higher, they dug a long burrow, running back ten or fifteen +feet into the ground. This was to be the last +resort if, by any possibility, the lodge should ever be invaded. +It was a weary task, digging that burrow, for its +mouth was deep under the water, and every few minutes +they had to stop work and come to the surface for breath. +Night after night they scooped and shovelled, rushing the +job as fast as they knew how, but making pretty slow +progress in spite of all their efforts. It was done at +last, however, and they felt easier in their minds when +they knew that it was ready for use in case of necessity. +From its mouth in the depths of the pond it sloped +gradually upward to a dry chamber under the roots of a +large birch; and here, where a few tiny holes were not +likely to be noticed from the outside, two or three small +openings, almost hidden by the moss and dead leaves, let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +in the air and an occasional ray of light. The big tree +made a solid roof overhead, and the chamber was large +enough, with a little crowding, to accommodate a whole +family of beavers.</p> + +<p>There was only one other heavy task, and that was the +gathering of the wood, which, with its bark, was to serve +as food through the winter. This too was finally finished, +and the very last things that the beavers did that +fall were to put another coat of mud on the outside of the +lodge, and to see that the dam was in the best possible +condition. No repairing could be done after the ice made; +and if the dam should give way at any time during the +winter, the pond would be drained, and the entrances of +the lodge and the burrow would be thrown open to any +prowling marauders that might happen to pass that way. +So it was imperative to have things in good order before +cold weather came on.</p> + +<p>There came a quiet, windless day, when the sky was gray, +and when the big snow-flakes came floating lazily down, +some to lose themselves in the black water, and some to +robe the woods and the shores in white. At nightfall the +clouds broke up, the stars shone forth, and the air grew +odder and keener till long crystal spears shot out across<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +the pond, and before morning a sheet of glass had spread +from shore to shore. I do not think it was unwelcome. +The beavers were shut in for the winter, or could only go +abroad with considerable difficulty, but they had each +other, and there was a little world of their own down under +the ice and snow. The chamber of the lodge was home, +and just outside was their food storehouse—the big pile +of wood which it had cost so much labor to gather. One +of the entrances was shorter and straighter than the other, +and through this they used to bring in sticks from the +heap, and lay them on the floor between the beds, where +they could devour the bark at their leisure. If they grew +restless, and wanted to go farther afield, there was the +bottom of the pond to be explored, and the big luscious +lily-roots to be dug up for a change of diet. It was a +peaceful time, a time of rest from the labors of the past +year, and of growing fat and strong for those of the year +to come. We have much goods laid up for many months; +let us eat, drink, and be merry, and hope that the trappers +will not come to-morrow.</p> + +<p>The babies came in May, and I suppose that the young +father and mother were almost as proud and happy as +some of you who are in similar circumstances. The Beaver<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +did not wander very far from home that spring and summer, +nor was he away very long at a time.</p> + +<p>There were five of the children, and they were very pretty—about +as large as rats, and covered with thick, soft, +silky, reddish-brown fur, but without any of the longer, +coarser, chestnut-colored hairs that formed their parents' +outer coats. They were very playful, too, as the father and +mother had been in their own youthful days. For a while +they had to be nursed, like other babies; but by and by +the old beavers began to bring in little twigs for them, +about the size of lead-pencils; and if you had been there, +and your eyes had been sharp enough to pierce the gloom, +you might have seen the youngsters exercising their brand +new teeth, and learning to sit up and hold sticks in their +baby hands while they ate the bark. And wouldn't you +have liked to be present on the night when they first went +swimming down the long, dark tunnel; and, rising to the +surface, looked around on their world of woods and water—on +the quiet pond, with its glassy smoothness broken +only by their own ripples; on the tall trees, lifting their +fingers toward the sky; and on the stars, marching silently +across the heavens, and looking down with still, unwinking +eyes on another family of babies that had come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +to live and love and be happy for a little while on God's +earth?</p> + +<p>One of the children was killed by an otter before the +summer was over, but I am glad to say that the other +four grew up and were a credit to their parents.</p> + +<p>The babies were not the only addition to the new city +during that year, for about mid-summer another pair of +beavers came and built a lodge near the upper end of the +pond. It was a busy season for everybody—for our old +friends as well as for the new-comers. The food-sticks which +had been peeled off their bark during the winter furnished +a good supply of construction material, and the dam was +built up several inches higher, and was lengthened to the +buttress-tree on one side, and for a distance of two or +three rods on the other, so as to keep the water from flowing +around the ends. As the water-level rose it became +necessary to build up the floor of the lodge in order to +keep it from being flooded; and that, in turn, necessitated +raising the roof by the simple process of hollowing it out +from within and adding more material on the outside. +In the same way the lodge was made both longer and +broader, to accommodate the growing family and the still +further increase that was to be expected the following<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +spring. More burrows were dug in the shore of the pond—you +can't have too many of them—and a much larger stock +of food wood was gathered, for there were six mouths, instead +of two, to be fed through the coming winter. The +father and mother worked very hard, and even the babies +helped with the lighter tasks, such as carrying home small +branches, and mending little leaks in the dam. The +second pair of beavers was also busy with lodge and burrow +and storehouse, and so the days slipped by very +rapidly.</p> + +<p>Only once that year did a man come to town, and +then he did not do anything very dreadful. He was +not a trapper, he was only an amateur naturalist who +wanted to see the beavers at their work, and who +thought he was smart enough to catch them at it. His +plan was simple enough; he made a breach in the dam +one night, and then climbed a tree and waited for them +to come and mend it. It was bright moonlight, and he +thought he would see the whole thing and learn some +wonderful secrets.</p> + +<p>The Beaver was at work in the woods not very far +away, and presently he came down to the edge of the +pond, rolling a heavy birch cutting before him. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +noticed at once that the water was falling, and he +started straight for the dam to see what was the matter. +The amateur naturalist saw him coming, a dark speck +moving swiftly down the pond, with a long V-shaped +ripple spreading out behind him like the flanks of a +flock of wild geese. But the beaver was doing some +thinking while he swam. He had never before known +the water to fall so suddenly and rapidly; there must be +a very bad break in the dam. How could it have happened? +It looked suspicious. It looked very suspicious +indeed; and just before he reached the dam he stopped +to reconnoitre, and at once caught sight of the naturalist +up in the tree. His tail rose in the air and came down +with the loudest whack that had ever echoed across the +pond, a stroke that sent the spray flying in every direction, +and that might have been heard three-quarters of +a mile away. His wife heard it, and paused in her +work of felling a tree; the children heard it, and the +neighbors heard it; and they all knew it meant business. +The Beaver dived like a loon and swam for dear life, +and he did not come to the surface again till he had +reached the farther end of the pond and was out of +sight behind a grassy point. There he stayed, now and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +then striking the water with his tail as a signal that the +danger was not yet over. It isn't every animal that can +use his caudal appendage as a stool, as a rudder, as a +third hind leg, as a trowel for smoothing the floor of his +house, and as a tocsin for alarming his fellow-citizens.</p> + +<p>The naturalist roosted in the tree till his teeth were +chattering and he was fairly blue with cold, and then he +scrambled down and went back to his camp, where he +had a violent chill. The next night it rained, and as he +did not want to get wet there was nothing to do but +stay in his tent. When he visited the pond again the +dam had been repaired and the water was up to its usual +level. He decided that watching beavers wasn't very +interesting, hardly worth the trouble it cost; and he +guessed he knew enough about them, anyhow. So +the next day he packed up his camping outfit and went +home.</p> + +<p>In the following year the population was increased to +eighteen, for six more babies arrived in our Beaver's +lodge, and four in his neighbors'. In another twelvemonth +the first four were old enough to build lodges and +found homes of their own; and so the city grew, and +our Beaver and his wife were the original inhabitants,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +the first settlers, the most looked-up-to of all the citizens. +You are not to suppose, however, that the Beaver +was mayor of the town. There was no city government. +The family was the unit, and each household was +a law unto itself. But that did not keep him from +being the oldest, the wisest, the most knowing of all +the beavers in the community, just as his father had +been before him in another town.</p> + +<p>I don't believe you care to hear all about the years +that followed. They were years of peace and growth, of +marriages and homebuilding, of many births and a +few deaths, of winter rest and summer labor, and of +quiet domestic happiness. There was little excitement, +and, best of all, there were no trappers. The time +came when the Beaver might well say, as he looked +around on the community which he and his wife had +founded, that he was a citizen of no mean city.</p> + +<p>But this could not last. A great calamity was coming—a +calamity beside which the slow destruction of the former +town would seem tame and uninteresting.</p> + +<p>One bright February day the Beaver and his wife left +their lodge to look for lily-roots. They had found a big +fat one and were just about to begin their feast, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +they heard foot-steps on the ice over their heads, and the +voices of several men talking eagerly. They made for +the nearest burrow as fast as they could go, and stayed +there the rest of the day, and when they returned to +their lodge they found—but I'm going too fast.</p> + +<p>The men were Indians and half-breeds, and they were +in high feather over their discovery. Around this pond +there must be enough beaver-skins to keep them in groceries +and tobacco and whiskey for a long time to come. +But to find a city is one thing, and to get hold of its inhabitants +is another and a very different one. One of +the Indians was an elderly man who in the old days had +trapped beaver in Canada for the Hudson Bay Company, +and he assumed the direction of the work. First of all +they chopped holes in the ice and drove a line of stakes +across the stream just above the pond, so that no one +might escape in that direction. Then, by pounding on +the ice, and cutting more holes in it here and there, they +found the entrances to all the lodges and most of the burrows, +and closed them also with stakes driven into the +bottom. Fortunately they did not find the burrow +where our Beaver and his wife had taken refuge. They +were about to break open the roofs of the lodges when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +the old man proposed that they should play a trick on +one of the beaver families—a trick which his father had +taught him when he was a boy, and when the beavers +were many in the woods around Lake Superior. He described +it with enthusiasm, and his companions agreed +that it would be great fun. For a time there was much +chopping of ice and driving of stakes, and then all was +quiet again.</p> + +<p>By and by one of our Beaver's children began to feel +hungry, and as his father and mother had not come home +he decided to go out to the wood-pile and get something +to eat. So he took a header from his bed into the water, +and swam down the angle. The door had been unbarred +again, and he passed out without difficulty, but when he +reached the pile he found it surrounded by a fence made +of stakes set so close together that he could not pass between +them. He swam clear around it, and at last found +one gap just wide enough to admit his body. He passed +in, and as he did so his back grazed a small twig which +had been thrust down through a hole in the ice, and the +watching Indians saw it move, and knew that a beaver +had entered the trap. He picked out a nice stick of convenient +size, and started to return to the lodge. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +where was that gap in the fence? This was the place, +he was sure. Here were two stakes between which he +had certainly passed as he came in, but now another +stood squarely between them, and the gate was barred. +He swam all round the wood-pile, looking for a way out, +and poking his little brown nose between the stakes, but +there was no escape, and when he came back to the +entrance and found it still closed his last hope died, and +he gave up in despair. His heart and lungs and all his +circulatory apparatus had been so designed by the Great +Architect that he might live for many minutes under +water, but they could not keep him alive indefinitely. +Overhead was the ice, and all around was that cruel +fence. Only a rod away was home, where his brothers +and sisters were waiting for him, and where there was air +to breathe and life to live—but he could not reach it. +You have all read or heard how a drowning man feels, +and I suppose it is much the same with a drowning +beaver. They say it is an easy death.</p> + +<p>By and by a hooked stick came down through a hole +in the ice and drew him out, the gate was unbarred, the +twig was replaced, and the Indians waited for another +hungry little beaver to come for his dinner. That's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +enough. You know now what the parents found when +they came home—or rather what they didn't find.</p> + +<p>It would have taken too long to dispose of the whole city +in this way, so the Indians finally broke the dam and let +the water out of the pond, and then they tore open the +lodges and all the burrows they could find, and the inhabitants +were put to the—not the sword, but the axe +and the club. Of all those who had been so happy +and prosperous, the old Beaver and his wife were the +only ones who escaped; and their lives were spared only +because the Indians failed to find their hiding-place.</p> + +<p>That was the end of the second city, but it was not quite +the end of the beavers. A few miles up-stream they dug +a short burrow in the bank and tried to make a new home. +In May another baby came, but only one, and it was dead +before it was born. Next day the mother died too, and +the Beaver left the burrow and went out into the world +alone. I really think his heart was broken, though it +continued to beat for several months longer.</p> + +<p>Just northeast of the Glimmerglass there lies a long, +narrow pond, whose shores are very low and swampy, and +whose waters drain into the larger lake through a short +stream only a few rods in length. Hundreds, perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +thousands, of years ago the narrow strip of land that +separates them may possibly have been a beaver-dam, but +to-day it is hard to tell it from one of Nature's own formations. +In the course of his lonely wanderings the +Beaver reached this pond, and here he established himself +to spend his last few weeks. He was aging rapidly. Such +a little while ago he had seemed in the very prime of life, +and had been one of the handsomest beavers in the woods, +with fur of the thickest and softest and silkiest, and a +weight of probably sixty pounds. Now he was thin and +lean, his hair was falling out, his teeth were losing their +sharp edges and becoming blunt and almost useless, and +even his flat tail was growing thicker and more rounded, +and its whack was not as startling as of old when he +brought it down with all his might on the surface of the +water.</p> + +<p>Yet even now the old instinct flamed up and burned feebly +for a little while. Or shall we say the old love of work, +and of using the powers and faculties that God had given +him? Why should the thing that is called genius in a +man be set down as instinct when we see it on a somewhat +smaller scale in an animal? Whatever it was, the ruling +passion was still strong. All his life he had been a civil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +engineer; and now, one dark, rainy autumn night, he left +his shallow burrow, swam down the pond to its outlet, and +began to build a dam. The next day, pushing up the +shallow stream in my dug-out canoe, I saw the alder-cuttings +lying in its bed, with the marks of his dull teeth on +their butts. God knows why he did it, or what he was +thinking about as he cut those bushes and dragged them +into the water. I don't; but sometimes I wonder if a +wild dream of a new lodge, a new mate, a new home, and +a new city was flitting through his poor, befogged old +brain.</p> + +<p>It was only a few nights later that he put his foot into +Charlie Roop's beaver-trap, jumped for deep water, and +was drowned like his father before him. Charlie afterward +showed me the pelt, which he had stretched on a +hoop made of a little birch sapling. It was not a very +good pelt, for, as I said, the Beaver had been losing his +hair, but Charlie thought he might get a dollar or two +for it. Whether he needed the dollar more than the +Beaver needed his skin was a question which it seemed +quite useless to discuss.</p> + +<p>As we left the shack I noticed the tail lying on the +ground just outside the door.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why don't you eat it?" I asked. "Don't you know +that a beaver's tail is supposed to be one of the finest delicacies +in the woods?"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Charlie. "I'd rather have salt pork."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE KING OF THE TROUT STREAM</h2> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='cap'>IT was winter, and the trout stream ran low in its +banks, hidden from the sky by a thick shell of ice and +snow, and not seeing the sun for a season. But the +trout stream was used to that, and it slipped along in +the darkness, undismayed and not one whit disheartened; +talking to itself in low, murmuring tones, and dreaming +of the time when spring would come back and all the +rivers would be full.</div> + +<p>Mingled with its waters, and borne onward and downward +by the ceaseless flow of its current, went multitudes of the +tiniest air-bubbles, most of them too small ever to be seen +by a human eye, yet large enough to be the very breath +of life to thousands and thousands of creatures. Some of +them found their way to the gills of the brook trout, and +some to the minnows, and the herrings, and the suckers, +and the star-gazers; some fed the little crustacea, and the +insect larvæ, and the other tiny water animals that make up +the lower classes of society; and some passed undetained +down the river and out into Lake Superior. But there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +were others that worked down into the gravel of the riverbed; +and there, in the nooks and crannies between the +pebbles, they found a vast number of little balls of yellow-brown +jelly, about as large as small peas, which seemed to +be in need of their kindly ministrations. And the air-bubbles +touched the trout eggs gently and lovingly, and +in some mysterious and wonderful way their oxygen +passed in through the pores of the shells, and the embryos +within were quickened and stirred to a new vigor and a +more rapid growth.</p> + +<p>Not all of the eggs were alive. Some had been +crushed between the stones; some were buried in sediment, +which had choked the pores and kept away the +friendly oxygen until they smothered; and some had +never really lived at all. But one danger they had been +spared, for there were no saw-mills on the stream to send +a flood of fungus-breeding sawdust down with the current. +And in spite of all the misfortunes and disasters +to which trout eggs are liable, a goodly number of +them were doing quite as well as could be expected. I +suppose one could hardly say that they were being incubated, +for, according to the dictionaries, to incubate is +to sit upon, and certainly there was no one sitting on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +them. Their mothers had not come near them since the +day they were laid. But the gravel hid them from the +eyes of egg-eating fishes and musk-rats; the water kept +them cold, but not too cold; the fresh oxygen came and +encouraged them if ever they grew tired and dull, and so +the good work went on.</p> + +<p>Through each thin, leathery, semi-transparent shell you +could have seen, if you had examined it closely, a pair +of bright, beady eyes, and a dark little thread of a backbone +that was always curled up like a horseshoe because +there wasn't room for it to lie straight. But +along the outside of the curve of each spinal column a +set of the tiniest and daintiest muscles was getting ready +for a long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull all together. +And one day, late in the winter, when the +woods were just beginning to think about spring, the +muscles in one particular egg tugged with all their little +might, the backbone straightened with a great effort, +the shell was ripped open, and the tail of a brand-new +brook trout thrust itself out into the water and wiggled +pathetically.</p> + +<p>But his head and shoulders were still inside, and for a +while it looked as if he would never get them free. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +tail was shaped somewhat like a paddle set on edge, for +a long, narrow fin ran from the middle of his back clear +around the end of it and forward again on the under +side of his body, and with this for an oar he struggled +and writhed and squirmed, and went bumping blindly +about among the pebbles like a kitten with its head in +the cream pitcher. And at last, with the most vigorous +squirm and wriggle of all, he backed clear of the shell in +which he had lain for so many weeks and months, and, +weak and weary from his exertions, lay down on a stone +to rest.</p> + +<p>He had to lie on his side, for attached to his breast was +a large, round, transparent sac which looked very much +like the egg out of which he had just come. In fact it +really was the egg, or at least a portion of it, for it held +a large part of what had been the yolk. If you could +have examined him with a microscope you would have +seen a most strange and beautiful thing. His little body +was so delicate and transparent that one could see the +arteries pulsing and throbbing in time with the beating +of his heart, and some of those arteries found their way +into the food-sac, where they kept branching and dividing, +and growing smaller and more numerous. And in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +the very smallest of the tiny tubes a wonderful process +was going on—as wonderful as the way in which the +oxygen fed the embryos through the shell. Somehow, +by life's marvellous alchemy, the blood was laying hold +of the material of the yolk, turning it into more blood, +and carrying it away to be used in building up bone and +muscle everywhere from the tip of his nose to the end of +his tail. You might not have detected the actual +transformation, but you could have seen the beating of +the engine, and the throbbing rush of the little red +rivers, all toiling with might and main to make a big, +strong trout out of this weak and diminutive baby. +And you could have seen the corpuscles hurrying along +so thick and fast that at times they blocked up the passages, +and the current was checked till the heart could +bring enough pressure to bear to burst the dam and +send them rushing on again. For the corpuscles of +a trout's blood are considerably larger than those of +most fishes, and they sometimes get "hung up," like a +drive of logs sent down a stream hardly large enough to +float it.</p> + +<p>With a full haversack to be drawn upon in such a +convenient manner the Troutlet was not obliged to take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +food through his mouth or to think about hustling +around in search of a living. This was very fortunate, +for the stream was full of hungry beasts of prey who +would be very likely to gobble him up quick the first +time he went abroad; and, besides, his frail little body +was still so weak and delicate that he could not bear the +light of day. So, instead of swimming away to seek his +fortune, he simply dived down deeper into the gravel, +and stayed there. For some weeks he led a very quiet +life among the pebbles, and the only mishap that befell +him during that time was the direct result of his retiring +disposition. In his anxiety to get as far away from +the world as possible he one day wedged himself into a +cranny so narrow that he couldn't get out again. He +couldn't even breathe, for his gill-covers were squeezed +down against the sides of his head as if he were in a +vise. A trout's method of respiration is to open his +mouth and fill it with water, and then to close it again +and force the water out through his gills, between his +cheeks and his shoulders, about where his neck would be +if he had one. It's very simple when you once know +how, but you can't do it with your gill-covers clamped +down. His tail wiggled more pathetically than ever,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +and did its level best to pull him out, but without success. +He was wedged in so tightly that he couldn't +move, and he was fast smothering, like a baby that has +rolled over on its face upon the pillow. But at the last +moment, when his struggles had grown feebler and +feebler until they had almost ceased, something stirred +up the gravel around him and set him free. He never +knew what did it. Perhaps a deer or a bear waded +through the stream; or a saw-log may have grounded +for a moment in the shallow; or possibly it was only the +current, for by this time most of the snow had melted, +and the little river was working night and day to carry +the water out of the woods. But whatever it was, he was +saved.</p> + +<p>He stayed in the gravel nearly a month, but his yolk-sac +was gradually shrinking, and after a time it drew +itself up into a little cleft in his breast and almost disappeared. +There was nothing left of it but a little amber-colored +bead, and it could no longer supply food enough +for his growing body. There were times when he felt +decidedly hungry. And other changes had come while +he lay and waited in the gravel. The embryonic fin +which had made his tail so like a paddle was gone, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +true dorsal and caudal and anal fins had taken their +proper shape, and he looked a little less like a tadpole +and a little more like a fish. He was stronger than he +had been at first, and he was losing his dread of the sunlight; +and so at last he left the gravel-bed, to seek his +rightful place in the world of moving, murmuring waters.</p> + +<p>He was rather weak and listless at first, and quite +given to resting in the shallows and back water, and +taking things as easily as possible. But that was to be +expected for a time, and he was much better off than +some of the other trout babies. He saw one that had +two heads and only one body, and another with two +heads and two bodies joined together at the tail. Still +others there were who had never been strong enough to +straighten their backbones, and who had lain in the egg +till the shell wore thin and let them out head first, which +is not at all the proper way for a trout to hatch. Even +now they still retained the horseshoe curve, and could +never swim straight ahead, but only spin round and +round like whirligigs. These cripples and weaklings +seemed to have got on pretty well as long as their food-sacs +lasted, but now that they had to make their own +living they were at a serious disadvantage. They all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +disappeared after a day or two, and our friend never saw +them again. They couldn't stand the real struggle of +life.</p> + +<p>Many a strong, healthy baby disappeared at the same +time, and if there had not been so many of them it is not +likely that any would have survived the first few days and +weeks. Even as it was, I doubt if more than one fish out +of each thousand eggs ever lived to grow up. It is not +difficult to guess where they went. Our Trout had hardly +emerged from his hiding-place in the gravel when a queer, +ugly, big-headed little fish darted at him from under a +stone, with his jaws open and an awful cavity yawning +behind them. The Troutlet dodged between a couple of +pebbles and escaped, but another youngster just beyond +him was caught and swallowed alive. That was his first +meeting with the star-gazer, who kills more babies than +ever Herod did. Then there were minnows, and herrings, +and lizards, and frogs, and weasels, and water-snakes, and +other butchers of all sorts and sizes, too numerous to mention. +And perhaps the worst of all were the older trout, +who never seemed to have the least compunction about +eating their small relations, and who were so nimble and +lively that it was almost impossible to keep out of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +way. Our friend spent most of his time in the shallow +water near the banks, where larger fishes were not so +likely to follow him, but even there he had many narrow +escapes and was obliged to keep himself hidden as much +as possible under chips and dead leaves, and behind +stones.</p> + +<p>Often he found himself in great peril when he least +suspected it. Once he lay for some time in the edge of a +dark forest of water-weeds, only an inch from a lumpish, +stupid-looking creature, half covered with mud, that was +clinging to one of the stems. The animal appeared so +dull and unintelligent that the young Trout paid little +attention to him until another baby came up and approached +a trifle closer. Then, quick as a flash, the creature +shot out an arm nearly three-quarters of an inch +long, bearing on its end two horrible things which were +not exactly claws, nor fingers, nor teeth, but which partook +of the nature of all three, and which came together +on the infant's soft, helpless little body like a pair of tongs +or the jaws of a steel trap, and drew him in to where the +real jaws were waiting to make mince-meat of him. Our +friend fled so precipitately that he did not see the end of +the tragedy, but neither did he ever see that baby again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +Before the summer had passed, the dull, lumpish-looking +creature had become a magnificent insect, with long, gauzy +wings, clad in glittering mail, and known to everybody as +a dragon-fly, but I doubt if any of his performances in the +upper air were ever half as dragon-like as the deeds of +darkness that he did when he was an ugly, shapeless +larva down under the water.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, not all the larvæ in the stream were thus +to be feared. Many were so small that the Troutlet could +eat them, instead of letting them eat him; and nowhere +were they more plentiful than in this same forest of water-weeds. +His first taste of food was a great experience, and +gave him some entirely new ideas of life. One day he +was lying with his head up-stream, as was his usual habit, +when a particularly fat, plump little larva, torn from his +home by the remorseless river, came drifting down with the +current. He looked very tempting, and our friend sallied +out from under a stick and caught him on the fly, just +as he had seen the star-gazer catch his own brother. The +funny little creature wriggled deliciously on his tongue, +and he held him between his jaws for a moment in a kind +of ecstasy; but he couldn't quite make up his mind to +swallow him, and presently he spat him out again and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +went back to the shadow of his stick to rest and think +about it. It was the first time in his life that he had +ever done such a thing, and he felt rather overwhelmed, +but an hour or two later he tried it again, and this time +the living morsel did not stop in his mouth, but went +straight on down.</p> + +<p>It was really something more than a new experience—this +first mouthful of food—for it marked a turning-point +in his career. Up to this time he had lived entirely +on the provisions which his parents had left him, +but henceforth he was independent and could take care +of himself. He was no longer an embryo; he was a real +fish, a genuine <i>Salvelinus fontinalis</i>, as carnivorous as the +biggest and fiercest of all his relations. The cleft in his +breast might close up now, and the last remnant of his +yolk-sac vanish forever. He was done with it. He had +graduated from the nursery, and had found his place on +the battle-field of life.</p> + +<p>It must be admitted, however, that he did not look +much like a mature trout, even now. He was less than +three-quarters of an inch long, and his big head, bulging +eyes, and capacious mouth were out of all proportion to +his small and feeble body. But time and food were all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +that was needed to set these matters right; and now that +he had learned how, he set to work and did his level best. +I should be afraid to guess how many tiny water-creatures, +insects and larvæ and crustaceæ, found their way down +his throat, but it is pretty safe to say that he often ate +more than his own weight in a single day. And so he +grew in size and strength and symmetry, and from being +a quiet, languid baby, always hiding in dark corners, and +attending strictly to his own affairs, he became one of the +liveliest and most inquisitive little fishes in all the stream. +To a certain extent he developed a fondness for travelling, +and in company with other troutlets of his own age and +size he often journeyed from place to place in search of +new surroundings and new things to eat. In fly-time he +found a bountiful food-supply in the mosquitoes and +black-flies that swarmed over the stream, and it was fun +to see him leap from the water, catch one of them in his +mouth, and drop back with a triumphant little splash. +It wasn't really very considerate in him to prey on those +biting, stinging flies, for in after years they would be his +best defenders against anglers and fishermen, but consideration +doesn't seem to be one of the strong points in a +brook trout's character.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>It would take too long to tell of all his youthful +doings during the next year, and of all his narrow +escapes, and the many tight places that he got into and +out of. It was a wonder that he ever pulled through at +all, but I suppose it is necessary that a few trout should +grow up, for, if they didn't, who would there be to eat +the little ones?</p> + +<p>Once a kingfisher dived for him, missed him by a hair's-breadth, +and flew back, scolding and chattering, to his +perch on an old stub that leaned far out over the water. +And once he had a horrible vision of an immense loon +close behind him, with long neck stretched out, and huge +bill just ready to make the fatal grab. He dodged and +got away, but it frightened him about as badly as anything +can frighten a creature with no more nerves than a +fish. And many other such adventures he had—too +many to enumerate. However, I don't think they ever +troubled him very much except for the moment. He +grew more wary, no doubt, but he didn't do much worrying. +Somehow or other he always escaped by the skin of +his teeth, and the next spring he was swallowing the new +crop of young fry with as little concern as his older relations +had shown in trying to swallow him. So far he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +seemed to be one of the few who are foreordained to eat +and not be eaten, though it was more than likely that in +the end he, too, would die a violent death.</p> + +<p>When he was about a year and a half old he noticed +that all the larger trout in the stream were gathering in +places where the water was shallow, the bottom pebbly, +and the current rapid; and that they acted as if they +thought they had very important business on hand. He +wanted to do as the others did, and so it happened that +he went back again to the gravelly shallow where the air-bubbles +had first found him. By this time he was about +as large as your finger, or possibly a trifle larger, and he +had all the bumptiousness of youth and was somewhat +given to pushing himself in where he wasn't wanted.</p> + +<p>The male trout were the first to arrive, and they +promptly set to work to prepare nests for their mates, +who were expected a little later. It was a simple process. +All they did was to shove the gravel aside with their +noses and fins and tails, and then fan the sediment away +until they had made nice, clean little hollows in the bed +of the stream; but there was a good deal of excitement +and jealousy over it, and every little while they had to +stop and have a scrap. The biggest and strongest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +always wanted the best places, and if they happened to +take a fancy for a location occupied by a smaller and +weaker fish, they drove him out without ceremony and +took possession by right of the conqueror. For the most +part their fighting seemed rather tame, for they did little +more than butt each other in the ribs with their noses, +but once in a while they really got their dander up and +bit quite savagely. And when the lady trout came to +inspect the nests that had been prepared for them, then +times were livelier than ever, and the jealousy and rivalry +ran very high, indeed.</p> + +<p>Of course our Trout was too young to bear a very +prominent part in these proceedings, but he and some +companions of about his own age skirmished around the +edges of the nesting grounds, and seemed to take a wicked +delight in teasing the old males and running away just in +time to escape punishment. And when the nests began +to be put to practical use, the yearlings were very much +in evidence. Strictly fresh eggs are as good eating down +under the water as they are on land, and, partly on this +account, and partly because direct sunshine is considered +very injurious to them, the mothers always covered them +with gravel as quickly as possible. But in spite of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +best of care the current was constantly catching some of +them and sweeping them away, and our young friend +would creep up as near as he dared, and whenever one of +the yellow-brown balls came his way he would gobble it +down with as little remorse as he had felt for his first +larva. Now and then an irate father would turn upon +him fiercely and chase him off, but in a few minutes he +would be back again, watching for eggs as eagerly as ever. +Once, indeed, he had a rather close call, for the biggest +old male in all the stream came after him with mouth +open as if he would swallow him whole, as he could very +easily have done. Our friend was almost caught when +the big fellow happened to glance back and saw another +trout coming to visit his wife, and promptly abandoned +the chase and went home to see about it.</p> + +<p>A year later our Trout went again to the gravelly +shallow, and this time, being six inches long and about +thirty months old, he decided to make a nest of his own. +He did so, and had just induced a most beautiful young +fish of the other sex to come and examine it, with a view +to matrimony, when that same big bully appeared on the +scene, promptly turned him out of house and home, and +began courting the beautiful young creature himself. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +was very exasperating, not to say humiliating, but it was +the sort of thing that one must expect when one is only a +two-year-old.</p> + +<p>The next year he had better luck. As another summer +passed away, and the cooler weather came on, he arrayed +himself in his wedding finery, and it almost seemed as if +he had stolen some of the colors of the swamp maples, in +their gay fall dress, and was using them to deck himself +out and make a brave display. In later years he was +larger and heavier, but I don't think he was ever much +handsomer than he was in that fourth autumn of his life. +His back was a dark, dusky, olive-green, with mottlings +that were still darker and duskier. His sides were lighter—in +some places almost golden yellow; and scattered +irregularly over them were the small, bright carmine spots +that gave him one of his <i>aliases</i>, the "Speckled Trout." +Beneath he was usually of a pale cream color, but now that +he had put on his best clothes his vest was bright orange, +and some of his fins were variegated with red and white, +while others were a fiery yellow. He was covered all over +with a suit of armor made of thousands and thousands of +tiny scales, so small and fine that the eye could hardly +separate them, and from the bony shoulder-girdle just behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +his gills a raised line, dark and slightly waving, ran +back to his tail, like the sheer-line of a ship. There were +other fishes that were more slender and more finely modelled +than he, and possibly more graceful, but in him +there was something besides beauty—something that told +of power and speed and doggedness. He was like a +man-o'-war dressed out in all her bunting for some great +gala occasion, but still showing her grim, heavy outlines +beneath her decorations. His broad mouth opened clear +back under his eyes, and was armed with rows of backward-pointing +teeth, so sharp and strong that when they +once fastened themselves upon a smaller fish they never +let him go again. The only way out from between those +jaws was down his throat. His eyes were large and +bright, and were set well apart; and the bulge of his +forehead between them hinted at more brains than are +allotted to some of the people of the stream. Altogether, +he was a most gallant and knightly little fish, +and it would certainly have been a pity if he hadn't +found a mate.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 286px;"> +<img src="images/gs004.jpg" width="286" height="450" alt="Nesting Grounds." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Nesting Grounds.</span> +</div> + +<p>And now he started the third time for the gravelly +shallow, and travelled as he had never travelled before in +all his life. Streams are made to swim against—every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +brook trout knows that—and the faster they run, the +greater is the joy of breasting them. The higher the +water-fall, the prouder do you feel when you find you can +leap it. And our friend was in a mood for swimming, +and for swimming with all his might. Never had he felt +so strong and vigorous and so full of life and energy, and +he made his fins and his tail go like the oars of a racing-shell. +Now he was working up the swift current of a +long rapid like a bird in the teeth of the wind. Now he +was gathering all his strength for the great leap to the +top of the water-fall. And now, perhaps, he rested for a +little while in a quiet pool, and presently went hurrying +on again, diving under logs and fallen trees, swinging +round the curves, darting up the still places where the +water lay a-dreaming, and wriggling over shallow bars +where it was not half deep enough to cover him; until at +last he reached the old familiar place where so many generations +of brook trout had first seen the light of day +and felt the cold touch of the snow-water.</p> + +<p>As before, he and the other males arrived at the nesting +grounds some days in advance of their mates, and spent +the intervening time in scooping hollows in the gravel +and quarrelling among themselves. Two or three times<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +he was driven from a choice location by someone who +was bigger than he, but he always managed in some way +to regain it, or else stole another from a smaller fish; +and when the ladies finally appeared he had a fine large +nest in a pleasant situation a little apart from those of +his rivals. But for some reason the first candidates who +came to look at it declined to stay. Perhaps they were +not quite ready to settle down, or perhaps they were +merely disposed to insist on the feminine privilege of +changing their minds. But finally there came one who +seemed to be quite satisfied, and with whom the Trout +himself had every reason to be pleased.</p> + +<p>She was not a native of the stream, but of one of the +hatcheries of the Michigan Fish Commission; and while +he was lying in the gravel she was one of a vast company +inhabiting a number of black wooden troughs that stood +in a large, pleasant room filled with the sound of running +water. Here there were no yearlings nor musk-rats nor +saw-bill ducks looking for fresh eggs, nor any dragons +nor star-gazers lying in wait for the young fry. Instead +there were nice, kind men, who kept the hatching troughs +clean and the water at the right temperature, and who +gently stirred up the troutlets with a long goose-feather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +whenever too many of them crowded together in one +corner, trying to get away from the hateful light. Under +this sort of treatment most of the thirty million babies +in the hatchery lived and thrived. Only a few thousands +of them were brook trout, but among those thousands +one of the smartest and most precocious was the one in +whom we are just now most interested. She was always +first into the dark corners, as long as dark corners seemed +desirable; and later, when they began to come up into the +light and partake of the pulverized beef-liver which their +attendants offered them, there was no better swimmer or +more voracious feeder than she. All this was especially +fortunate because there was a very hard and trying experience +before her—one in which she would have need +of all her strength and vitality, and in which her chances +of life would be very small, indeed. It came with planting +time, when she and a host of her companions were +whisked through a rubber tube and deposited in a big +can made of galvanized iron, in which they were borne +away to the trout stream. The journey was a long one, +they were pretty badly cramped for room, and before +they reached their destination the supply of oxygen in +the water became exhausted. The baby trout began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +think they had blown out the gas, and they all crowded +to the surface, where, if anywhere, the minute bubbles +that keep one alive are to be found. They gulped down +great mouthfuls of water and forced it out through their +gills as fast as ever they could, but, somehow, all the life +seemed to be gone out of it, and it did them no good +whatever. Pretty soon a few turned over on their backs +and died, and every last one of them would have suffocated +if the man who had charge of the party hadn't noticed +what was going on and come to the rescue. Picking +up a dipperful of water and troutlets, and holding it +high in the air, he poured it back into the can with much +dashing and splashing. Hundreds and hundreds of tiny +bubbles were caught in the rush and carried down to the +bottom, and so the oxygen came back again to the tired +gills, and the danger was over.</p> + +<p>The emigrants reached the trout stream at last, and +one would have supposed that their troubles were ended. +In reality the chapter of trials and tribulations had only +just begun, for the same fishes and frogs and lizards that +had so persecuted our friend and his brothers and sisters +were on hand to welcome the new arrivals, and very few +escaped. And so, in spite of its quiet beginnings in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +peaceful surroundings of the hatchery, this young lady +trout's life proved quite as exciting and adventurous as +our friend's, and it is possible that the good care which +she received during her early infancy really served to +make things all the harder for her when she came to be +thrown entirely on her own resources. The mere change +in the temperature of the water when she was turned out +of the can was quite a shock to her nervous system; and, +whereas most trout are somewhat acquainted with the +dangers and hardships of the stream, almost from the +time they rip their shells open, she did not even know +that there was such a place until she was set down in it +and told to shift for herself.</p> + +<p>However, by dint of strength, speed, agility, and good +judgment in selecting hiding-places—and also, in all +probability, by a run of remarkably good luck—she +made her way unharmed through all the perils of babyhood +and early youth, and now she was one of the most +beautiful little three-year-old pirates that ever swooped +down upon a helpless victim.</p> + +<p>As she and our friend swam side by side, her nose and +the end of her tail were exactly even with his. Her +colors were the same that he had worn before he put on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +his wedding garments, and if you had seen them together +in the early summer I don't believe you could ever have +told them apart. They were a well-matched pair, more +evenly mated, probably, than is usual in fish marriages.</p> + +<p>But they were not to be allowed to set up housekeeping +together without fighting for the privilege. Hardly +had she finished inspecting the nest, and made up her +mind that it would answer, and that he was, on the +whole, quite eligible as a husband, when a third trout +appeared and attempted to do as the big bully had done +the year before. This time, however, our young friend's +blood was up, and, though the enemy was considerably +larger than he, he was ready to strike for his altars and +his fires. He made a quick rush, like a torpedo-boat +attacking a man-of-war, and hit the intruder amidships, +ramming him with all his might. Then the enemy +made as sudden a turn, and gave our Trout a poke in +the ribs, and for a few minutes they dodged back and +forth, and round and round, and over and under each +other, each getting in a punch whenever he had a +chance. So far it seemed only a trial of strength and +speed and dexterity, and if our Trout was not quite as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +large and powerful as the other, yet he proved himself +the quicker and the more agile and lively. But before +it was over he did more than that, for, suddenly ranging +up on the enemy's starboard quarter, he opened his +mouth, and the sharp teeth of his lower jaw tore a row +of bright scales from his adversary's side, and left a long, +deep gash behind. That settled it. The big fellow lit +out as fast as he could go, and our Trout was left in undisputed +possession.</p> + +<p>The nesting season cannot last forever, and by and by, +when the days were very short and the nights were +very long, when the stars were bright, and when each +sunrise found the hoar-frost lying thick and heavy on +the dead and fallen leaves, the last trout went in search +of better feeding grounds, and again the gravelly +shallow seemed deserted. But it was only seeming. +There were no eggs in sight—the frogs, the rats, the +ducks, and the yearlings had taken care of that, and I +am very much afraid that our friend may have eaten a +few himself, on the sly, when his wife wasn't looking—but +hidden away among the pebbles there were thousands, +and the old, old miracle was being re-enacted, and +multitudes of little live creatures were getting ready for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +the time when something should tell them to tear their +shells open and come out into the world.</p> + +<p>One of the Trout's most remarkable adventures, and +the one which probably taught him more than any other, +came during the hot weather of the following summer. +The stream had grown rather too warm for comfort, and +lately he had got into the habit of frequenting certain +deep, quiet pools where icy springs bubbled out of the +banks and imparted a very grateful coolness to the slow +current. It was delightful to spend a long July afternoon +in the wash below one of these fountains, having a +lazy, pleasant time, and enjoying the touch of the cold +water as it went sliding along his body from nose +to tail. One sunshiny day, as he lay in his favorite +spring-hole, thinking about nothing in particular, and +just working his fins enough to keep from drifting down +stream, a fly lit on the surface just over his head—a +bright, gayly colored fly of a species which was entirely +new to him, but which looked as if it must be very +finely flavored. As it happened, there had been several +days of very warm, sultry weather, and even the fish +had grown sullen and lazy, but this afternoon the wind +had whipped around to the north, straight off Lake Superior,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +and all the animals in the Great Tahquamenon +Swamp felt as if they had been made over new. How +the brook trout could have known of it so quickly, down +under the water, is a mystery; but our friend seemed +to wake up all of a sudden, and to realize that he hadn't +been eating as much as usual, and that he was hungry. +He made a dash at the fly and seized it, but he had no +sooner got it between his lips than he spat it out again. +There was something wrong with it. Instead of being +soft and juicy and luscious, as all flies ought to be, it +was stiff, and dry, and hard, and it had a long, crooked +stinger that was different from anything belonging to +any other fly that he had ever tasted. It disappeared as +suddenly as it had come, and the Trout sank back to the +bottom of the pool.</p> + +<p>But presently three more flies came down together, +and lit in a row, one behind another. They were different +from the first, and he decided to try again. He +chose the foremost of the three, and found it quite as ill-tasting +as the other had been; but this time he didn't +spit it out, for the stinger was a little too quick for him, +and before he could let go it was fast in his lip. For the +next few minutes he tore around the pool as if he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +crazy, frightening some of the smaller fishes almost out +of their wits, and sending them rushing up-stream in a +panic. He himself had more than once been badly +scared by seeing other trout do just what he was doing, +but he had never realized what it all meant. Now he +understood.</p> + +<p>The first thing he did was to go shooting along the +surface for several feet, throwing his head from side to +side as he went, and doing his best to shake that horrible +fly out of his mouth. But it wouldn't shake, so he tried +jumping out of the water and striking at the line with +his tail. That wasn't any better, and next he rushed off +up the stream as hard as he could go. But the line kept +pulling him round to the left with gentle but irresistible +force, and before he knew it he was back in the pool +again. Wherever he went, and whatever he did, it was +always pulling, pulling, pulling—not hard enough to +tear the hook away, but just enough to keep him from +getting an inch of slack. If there had been any chance +to jerk he would probably have got loose in short order. +He rushed around the pool so hard that he soon grew +weary, and presently he sank to the bottom, hoping to +lie still for a few minutes, and rest, and perhaps think of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +some new way of escape. But even there that steady +tugging never ceased. It seemed as if it would pull his +jaw out of his head if he didn't yield, and before long he +let himself be drawn up again to the surface. Once he +was so close to the shore that the angler made a thrust +at him with the landing-net, and just grazed his side. +It frightened him worse than ever, and he raced away +again so fast that the reel sang, and the line swished +through the water like a knife.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 292px;"> +<img src="images/gs005.jpg" width="292" height="450" alt=""He tried jumping out of the water."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"He tried jumping out of the water."</span> +</div> + +<p>The other two flies were trailing behind, and the short +line that held them was constantly catching on his fins +and twisting itself around his tail in a way that annoyed +him greatly. He almost thought he could get away if +they were not there to hinder him. And yet, as it finally +turned out, it was one of those flies that saved his life. +He was coming slowly back from that last unsuccessful +rush for liberty, fighting for every inch, and only yielding +to a strength a thousand times greater than his own, +when the trailer caught on a sunken log and held fast. +Instantly the strain on his mouth relaxed. The angler +was no longer pulling on him, but on the log. He could +jerk now, and he immediately began to twitch his head +this way and that, backward and forward, right and left,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +tearing the hole in his lip a little larger at every yank, +until the hook came away and he was free.</p> + +<p>It was a painful experience, and he carried the scar as +long as he lived, but the lesson he learned was worth all +it cost. I won't say that he never touched bait again, +but he was much more cautious, and no other artificial +fly ever stung him as badly as that one.</p> + +<p>The years went by, and the Trout increased in size +and strength and wisdom, as a trout should. One after +another his rivals went away to the happy hunting-grounds, +most of them losing their lives because they +could not resist the temptation to taste a made-up fly, or +to swallow a luscious angle-worm festooned on a dainty +little steel hook; and the number of fish who dared dispute +his right to do whatever he pleased grew beautifully +less. And at last there was only one trout left in all the +stream who was larger and stronger than he. That was +the same big fellow who had come so near swallowing +him on the occasion of his first visit to the nesting-grounds; +and the way the fierce, solemn old brute finally +departed this life deserves a paragraph all to itself.</p> + +<p>It happened one morning in early spring, just after the +ice had gone out. Our friend was still a trifle sleepy and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +lazy after the long, dull winter, though he had an eye +open, as always, for anything particularly good to eat. I +doubt if he would have jumped at any kind of a fly, for +it was not the right time of year for flies, and he did not +believe in eating them out of season; but almost anything +else was welcome. He was faring very well that +morning, as it chanced, for the stream was running high, +and many a delicious grub and earthworm had been +swept into it by the melting snow. And presently, what +should come drifting down with the current but a poor +little field-mouse, struggling desperately in a vain effort +to swim back to the shore. Once before our friend had +swallowed a mouse whole, just as you would take an +oyster from the half-shell, and he knew that they were +very nice, indeed. He made a rush for the unlucky little +animal, and in another second he would have had him; +but just then the big bully came swaggering up with an +air which seemed to say: "That's my meat. You get +out of this!"</p> + +<p>Our friend obeyed, the big fellow gave a leap and seized +the mouse, and then—his time had come. He fought +bravely, but he was fairly hooked, and in a few minutes +he lay out on the bank, gasping for breath, flopping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +wildly about, and fouling his beautiful sides with sand +and dirt. If he had understood English he might have +overheard an argument which immediately took place +between the angler and a girl, and which began something +like this:</p> + +<p>"There!" in a triumphant tone; "who says mice +aren't good bait? This is the biggest trout that's been +caught in this stream for years."</p> + +<p>"Oh, George, don't kill him! He's so pretty! Put +him back in the water."</p> + +<p>"Put him back in the water? Well, I should say +not! What do you take me for?"</p> + +<p>Evidently the girl took him for one who could be easily +influenced by the right person, for she kept up the argument, +and in the end she won her case. The trout was +tossed back into the stream, where he gave himself a +shake or two, to get rid of the sand, and then swam +away, apparently as well as ever. But girls don't always +know what is good for trout. It would really have been +kinder if the angler had hit him over the head with the +butt of his fishing-rod, and then carried him home and +put him in the frying-pan. In his struggles a part of the +mucus had been rubbed from his body, and that always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +means trouble for a fish. A few days later our friend +met him again, and noticed that a curious growth had +appeared on his back and sides—a growth which bore a +faint resemblance to the bloom on a peach, and which +had taken the exact shape of the prints of the angler's +fingers. The fungus had got him. He was dying, slowly +but surely, and within a week he turned over on his back +and drifted away down the stream. A black bear found +him whirling round and round in a little eddy under the +bank, and that was the end of him.</p> + +<p>And so our friend became the King of the Trout +Stream.</p> + +<p>You are not to suppose, however, that he paid very +much attention to his subjects, or that he was particularly +fond of having them about him and giving them orders. +On the contrary, he had become very hermit-like in his +habits. In his youth he had been fond of society, and he +and his companions had often roamed the stream in little +schools and bands, but of late years his tastes seemed to +have undergone a change, and he kept to himself and +lurked in the shady, sunless places till his skin grew +darker and darker, and he more and more resembled the +shadows in which he lived. His great delight was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +watch from the depths of some cave-like hollow under an +overhanging bank until a star-gazer, or a herring, or a +minnow, or some other baby-eater came in sight, and +then to rush out and swallow him head first. He took +ample revenge on all those pesky little fishes for all that +they had done and tried to do to him and his brethren +in the early days. The truth is that every brook trout +is an Ishmaelite. The hand of every creature is against +him, from that of the dragon-fly larva to that of the man +with the latest invention in the way of patent fishing-tackle. +It is no wonder if he turns the tables on his +enemies whenever he has a chance, or even if he sometimes +goes so far, in his general ruthlessness, as to eat his +own offspring.</p> + +<p>Yet, in spite of our friend's moroseness and solitary +habits, there were certain times and seasons when he did +come more or less in contact with his inferiors. In late +spring and early summer he liked to sport for a while in +the swift rapids—perhaps to stretch his muscles after +the dull, quiet life of the winter-time, or possibly to +free himself from certain little insects which sometimes +fastened themselves to his body, and which, for lack of +hands, it was rather difficult to get rid of. Here he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +often met some of his subjects, and later, when the hot +weather came on, they all went to the spring-holes which +formed their summer resorts. And at such times he +never hesitated to take advantage of his superior size and +strength. He always picked out the coolest and most +comfortable places in the pools, and helped himself to the +choicest morsels of food; and the others took what was +left, without question. And when the summer was gone, +and the water grew cold and invigorating, and once more +he put on his wedding-garment and hurried away to the +gravelly shallows, how different was his conduct from +what it had been when he was a yearling! Then he was +only a hanger-on; now he selected his nest and his mate +to suit himself; and nobody ever dared to interfere. +Whether he ever again chose that beautiful little fish +from the hatchery, whom he had been so fond of when he +was a three-year-old, is a question which I would rather +not try to answer. Among all the vicissitudes, dangers, +and rivalries of life in a trout stream, a permanent marriage +seems to be almost an impossibility; and I fear +that the affections of a fish are not remarkable for depth +or constancy.</p> + +<p>The Trout had altered in many ways besides his relations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +to his fellows. The curving lines of his body were +not quite as graceful as they had once been, and sometimes +he wore a rather lean and dilapidated look, especially +in the six months from November to May. His +tail was not as handsomely forked as when he was young, +but was nearly square across the end, and was beginning +to be a little frayed at the corners. His lower jaw had +grown out beyond the upper, and its extremity was +turned up in a wicked-looking hook which was almost a +disfigurement, but which he often found very useful in +hustling a younger trout out of the way. Even his complexion +had grown darker, as we have already seen. Altogether +he was less prepossessing than of old, but of +a much more formidable appearance, and the very look +of him was enough to scare a minnow out of a year's +growth.</p> + +<p>But, notwithstanding all changes, the two great interests +of his every-day life continued to be just what they +had always been—namely, to get enough to eat, and to +keep out of the way of his enemies; for enemies he still +had, and would have as long as he lived. The fly-fishermen, +with their feather-weight rods and their scientific +tackle, came every spring and summer; and only the wisdom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +born of experience kept him from falling into their +hands. Several times he met with an otter, and had to +run for his life. Once, a black bear, fishing for suckers, +came near catching a brook trout. And perhaps the +very closest of all his close calls came one day when some +river-drivers exploded a stick of dynamite in the water to +break up a log-jam. The trout was some distance up +the stream at the time, but the concussion stunned him +so that he floated at the surface, wrong side up, for +several minutes before his senses gradually came back. +That is a fish's way of fainting.</p> + +<p>His luck stayed by him, however, and none of these +things ever did him any serious harm. His reign proved +a long one, and as the years went by he came to exercise +a more and more autocratic sway over the smaller fry. +For in spite of his age he was still growing. A trout +has an advantage over a land animal in this, that he is +not obliged to use any of his food as fuel for keeping +himself warm. He can't keep warm anyhow—not as +long as he lives in the water—and so he doesn't try, but +devotes everything he eats to enlarging his body and repairing +wear and tear. If nothing happens to put a +stop to the process, he seems to be able to keep it up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +almost indefinitely. But the size of the stream in which +he lives appears to limit him to a certain extent. Probably +the largest trout stream in the world is the Nepigon, +and they say that seventeen-pounders were caught there +in the early days. Our friend's native river was a rather +small one. In the course of time, however, he attained +a weight of very nearly three pounds, and I doubt if he +would ever have been much larger. Perhaps it was fitting +that his reign should end there.</p> + +<p>But it seems a great pity that it could not have +ended in a more imposing manner. The last act of the +drama was so inglorious that I am almost ashamed to +tell it. He was the King of the Trout Stream; over +and over he had run Fate's gauntlet, and escaped with his +body unharmed and his wits sharper than ever; he knew +the wiles of the fly-fishermen better than any other trout +in the river; and yet, alas! he fell a victim to a little +Indian boy with a piece of edging for a rod, coarse string +for a line, and salt pork for bait.</p> + +<p>I'm sure it wouldn't have happened if he had stayed at +home; but one spring he took it into his head to go +on an exploring expedition out into Lake Superior. I +understand that his cousins in the streams of eastern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +Canada sometimes visit salt water in somewhat the same +manner, and that they thereupon lose the bright trimmings +of their coats and become a plain silver-gray. +Superior did not affect our friend in that way, but something +worse happened to him—he lost his common-sense. +Perhaps his interest in his new surroundings was so great +that he forgot the lessons of wisdom and experience +which it had cost him so much to learn.</p> + +<p>In the course of his wanderings he came to where a +school of perch were loafing in the shadow of a wharf; +and just as he pushed his way in among them, that little +white piece of fat pork sank slowly down through the +green water. It was something new to the trout; he +didn't quite know what to make of it. But the perch +seemed to think it was good, and they would be sure to +eat it if he didn't; and so, although the string was in +plain sight and ought to have been a sufficient warning, +he exercised his royal prerogative, shouldered those yellow-barred +plebeians out of the way, and took the tid-bit +for himself. It is too humiliating; let us draw a veil +over that closing scene.</p> + +<p>The King of the Trout Stream had gone the way of +his fathers, and another reigned in his stead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE STRENUOUS LIFE OF A CANADA LYNX</h2> + + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='cap'>THE Canada lynx came down the runway that follows +the high bank along the northern shore of the Glimmerglass, +his keen, silvery eyes watching the woods for foe or +prey, and his big feet padding softly on the dead leaves. +He was old, was the Canada lynx, and he had grown very +tall and gaunt, but this afternoon his years sat lightly on +him. And in a moment more they had vanished entirely, +and he was as young as ever he was in his life, for, +as he stepped cautiously around a little spruce, he came +upon another lynx, nearly as tall as he, and quite as +handsome in her early winter coat. They both stopped +short and stared. And no wonder. Each of them was +decidedly worth looking at, especially if the one who +did the looking happened to be another lynx of the +opposite sex.</div> + +<p>He was some twenty-odd inches in height and about +three and a half feet in length, and had a most villanous +cast of countenance, a very wicked-looking set of teeth, +and claws that were two inches long and so heavy and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +strong and sharp that you could sometimes hear them +crunch into the bark when he climbed a tree. His long +hind legs, heavy buttocks, thick fore-limbs, and big, +clumsy-looking paws told of a magnificent set of muscles +pulling and sliding and hauling under his cloak. +She was nearly as large as he, and very much like him in +general appearance. Both of them wore long, thick fur, +of a lustrous steel-gray color, with paler shades underneath, +and darker trimmings along their back-bones and +up and down their legs. Their paws were big and broad +and furry, their tails were stubby and short, and they +wore heavy, grizzled whiskers on the sides of their jaws +and mustachios under their noses, while from the tips +of their ears rose tassels of stiff, dark hairs that had an +uncommonly jaunty effect. Altogether they looked very +fierce and imposing and war-like—perhaps rather more +so than was justified by their actual prowess. So it was +not surprising that they took to each other. Perhaps he +wasn't really quite as heroic as he appeared, but that's +not uncommon among other lovers besides those belonging +to the lynx tribe, and what difference did it make, +anyhow, as long as she didn't know it?</p> + +<p>That winter was a hard one. The cold was intense,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +the snow was very deep, and the storms came often. +Spruce hens and partridges were scarce, even rabbits were +hard to find, and sometimes it seemed to the two lynxes +as if they were the only animals left in the woods. Except +the deer. There were always plenty of deer down +in the cedar swamp, and their tracks were as plain as a +lumberman's logging road. But although the lynxes +sometimes killed and ate young fawns in the summertime, +they seldom tasted venison in the winter. It was +well for them that they had each other, for when one +failed in the hunt the other sometimes succeeded, yet I +cannot help thinking that the old male, especially, might +perhaps have been of more use to his mate if he had not +confined his hunting so entirely to the smaller animals. +More than once he sat on a branch of a tree and watched +a buck or doe go by, and his claws twitched and his eyes +blazed, and he fairly trembled with eagerness and excitement +as he saw the big gray creature pass, all unconscious, +beneath his perch. Splendidly armed as he was, +it would seem as though he must have succeeded if only +he had jumped and risked a tussle. But he never tried +it. I suppose he was afraid. And yet—such were the +contradictions of his nature—one dark night he trotted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +half a mile after a shanty-boy who was going home with +a haunch of venison over his shoulder, and was just gathering +himself for a spring, intending to leap on him from +behind, when another man appeared. Two against one +was not fair, he thought, and he gave it up and beat a +retreat without either of them seeing him. They found +his footprints the next morning in their snow-shoe +tracks, and wondered how far behind them he had been. +I don't know whether it was a vein of real courage that +nerved him up to doing such a foolhardy thing as to +follow a man with the intention of attacking him, or +whether it was simply a case of recklessness. The probability +is, however, that he was hungrier than usual, and +that the smell of the warm blood made him forget everything +else. Anyhow, he had a pretty close call, for the +shanty-boy had a revolver in his pocket.</p> + +<p>Aside from any question of heroism, I am afraid that +he was not really as wise and discriminating as he looked. +I have an idea that when Nature manufactured him she +thought he did not need as much wisdom or as many wits +as some of the other people of the woods, inasmuch as he +was larger and stronger and better armed than most of +them. Except possibly the bear, who was altogether too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +easy-going to molest him, there was not one of the animals +that could thrash him, and they all knew it and let +him alone. You can often manage very well without +brains if only you have the necessary teeth and muscle +and claws; and the old lynx had them, without a doubt. +But I fear that Nature, in adapting a wild animal to his +environment, now and then forgets to allow for the +human element in the problem. Brains are a good thing +to have, after all. Even to a lynx the time is pretty +sure to come, sooner or later, when he needs them in his +business. Your fellow-citizens of the woods may treat +you with all due respect, but the trapper won't, and he'll +get you if you don't watch out.</p> + +<p>One day he found some more snow-shoe tracks, just like +those that the shanty-boy had left, and instead of running +away, as he ought to have done, and as most of the +animals would have had sense enough to do, he followed +them up to see where they led. He wasn't particularly +hungry that day, and there was absolutely no excuse for +what he did. It certainly wasn't bravery that inspired +him, for he had not the least idea of attacking anyone. +It was simply a case of foolish curiosity. He followed +the trail a long way, not walking directly in it, but keeping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +just a little to one side, wallowing heavily as he went, +for a foot and a half of light, fluffy snow had fallen the +day before, and the walking was very bad. Presently he +caught sight of a little piece of scarlet cloth fastened to a +stick that stood upright in a drift. It ought to have +been another warning to him, but it only roused his curiosity +to a still higher pitch, as the trapper knew it would. +He sat down in the snow and considered. The thing +didn't really look as if it were good to eat, and yet it +might be. The only way to find out would be to go up +to it and taste it. But, eatable or not, such a bright bit +of color was certainly very attractive to the eye. You +would think so yourself if you hadn't seen anything scarlet +since last summer's wild-flowers faded. Finally, he +got up and walked slowly toward it, and the first thing +he knew a steel trap had him by the right foreleg.</p> + +<p>The way of the foolish is sometimes as hard as that +of the transgressor. For a few minutes he was the very +maddest cat in all the Great Tahquamenon Swamp, and he +yelled and howled and caterwauled at the top of his voice, +and jumped and tore around as if he was crazy. But, +of course, that sort of thing did him no good, and after +a while he quieted down and took things a little more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +calmly. Instead of being made fast to a tree, the trap +was bound by a short chain to a heavy wooden clog, and +he found that by pulling with all his might he could drag +it at a snail's pace through the snow. So off he went on +three legs, hauling the trap and clog by the fourth, with +the blood oozing out around the steel jaws and leaving a +line of bright crimson stains behind him. The strain on +his foot hurt him cruelly, but a great fear was in his +heart, and he knew that he must go away or die. So he +pushed on, hour after hour, stopping now and then to +rest for a few minutes in a thicket of cedar or hemlock, +but soon gathering his strength for another effort. How +he growled and snarled with rage and pain, and how his +great eyes flamed as he looked ahead to see what was +before him, or back along his trail to know if the trapper +was coming!</p> + +<p>It was a terrible journey that he made that night, and +the hours dragged by slow as his pace and heavy as his +clog. He was heading toward the hollow tree by the +Glimmerglass that he and his mate called home, but he +had not made more than half the distance, and his +strength was nearly gone. Half-way between midnight +and dawn he reached the edge of a steep and narrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +gully that lay straight across his path. The moon had +risen some time before, and the white slopes gleamed and +shone in the frosty light, all the whiter by contrast with +the few bushes and trees that were scattered up and down +the little valley. The lynx stood on the brink and +studied the proposition before him. It would be hard, +hard work to climb the farther side, dragging that heavy +clog, but at least it ought to be easy going down. He +scrambled over the edge, hauling the clog after him till it +began to roll of its own accord. The chain slackened, +and he leaped forward. It was good to be able to jump +again. But he jumped too far, or tried to, and the chain +tightened with a jerk that brought him down head-first +in the snow. Before he could recover himself the clog +shot past him, and the chain jerked again and sent him +heels over head. And then cat, trap, and clog all went +rolling over and over down the slope, and landed in a +heap at the bottom. All the breath and the spirit were +knocked out of him, and for a long time he could do +nothing but lie still in the snow, trembling with weakness +and pain, and moaning miserably. It must have +been half an hour before he could pull himself together +again, and then, just as he was about to begin the climb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +up the far side of the gully, he suddenly discovered that +he was no longer alone. Off to the left, among some +thick bushes, he saw the lurking form of a timber-wolf. +He looked to the right, and there was another. Behind +him was a third, and he thought he saw several others +still farther away, slinking from bush to bush, and gradually +drawing nearer. Ordinarily they would hardly have +dreamed of tackling him, and, if they had mustered up +sufficient courage to attempt to overpower him by mere +force of numbers, he would simply have climbed a tree +and laughed at them. But now it was different.</p> + +<p>The lynx cowered down in the snow and seemed to +shrink to half his normal size; and then, as all the horror +and the hopelessness of it came over him, he lifted up his +voice in such a cry of abject fear, such a wail of utter +agony and despair, as even the Great Tahquamenon +Swamp had very seldom heard. I suppose that he had +killed and eaten hundreds of smaller animals in his time, +but I doubt if any of his victims ever suffered as he did. +Most of them were taken unawares, and were killed and +eaten almost before they knew what was coming; but he +had to lie still and see his enemies slowly closing in upon +him, knowing all the time that he could not fight to any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +advantage, and that to fly was utterly impossible. But +when the last moment arrived he must have braced up +and given a good account of himself. At least that was +what the trapper decided when he came a few hours later +to look for his trap. The lynx was gone—not even a +broken bone of him was left—but there in the trodden +and blood-stained snow was the record of an awful +struggle. There must have been something heroic +about him, after all.</p> + +<p>For the rest of the winter his widow had to hunt alone. +This was not such a great hardship in itself, for they +had frequently gone out separately on their marauding +expeditions—more often, perhaps, than they had gone +together. But now there was never anyone to curl up +beside her in the hollow tree and help her keep warm, or +to share his kill with her when her own was unsuccessful. +And when the spring should come and bring her a family +of kittens, she would have to take on her own shoulders +the whole burden of parental responsibility. Or, rather, +the burden was already there, for if she did not find +enough meat to keep herself in good health the babies +would be weak and wizened and unpromising, with small +chance of growing up to be a credit to her or a satisfaction<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +to themselves. So she hunted night and day, and, +on the whole, with very good results. To tell the truth, +I think she was rather more skilful in the chase than her +mate had been, and this seems to be a not uncommon +state of things in cat families. Perhaps feminine fineness +of instinct and lightness of tread are better adapted to +the still-hunt than the greater clumsiness and awkwardness +of masculinity. Or, is there something deeper than +that? Has something whispered to these savage mothers +that on their success depends more than their own lives, +and that it is their sacred duty to kill, kill, kill? However +that may be, she proved herself a mighty huntress +before the Lord. Her eye was keen, and her foot was +sure, and she made terrible havoc among the rabbits and +partridges.</p> + +<p>And yet there were times when even she was hungry +and tired and disheartened. Once, on a clear, keen, cold +winter night when all the great white world seemed +frozen to death, she serenaded a land-looker who had +made his bed in a deserted lumber-camp and was trying +to sleep. She had eaten almost nothing for several days, +and she knew that her strength was ebbing. That very +evening she had fallen short in a flying leap at a rabbit,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +and had seen him dive head-first into his burrow, safe by +the merest fraction of an inch. She had fairly screeched +with rage and disappointment, and as the hours went by +and she found no other game, she grew so blue and discouraged +that she really couldn't contain herself any +longer. Perhaps it did her good to have a cry. For +two hours the land-looker lay in his bunk and listened +to a wailing that made his heart fairly sink within him. +Now it was a piercing scream, now it was a sob, and now +it died away in a low moan, only to rise again, wilder +and more agonized than ever. He knew without a doubt +that it was only some kind of a cat—knew it just as well +as he knew that his compass needle pointed north. Yet +there had been times in his land-looking experience when +he had been ready to swear that the needle was pointing +south-southeast; and to-night, in spite of his certain +knowledge that the voice he heard was that of a lynx or +a wild-cat or cougar, he couldn't help being almost dead +sure that it came from a woman in distress, there was in +it such a note of human anguish and despair. Twice he +got half-way out of bed to go to her assistance, and then +lay down again and called himself a fool. At last he +could stand it no longer, and taking a burning brand<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +from the broken stove that stood in the centre of the +room, he went to the door and looked out. The great +arc-light of the moon had checkered the snow-crust with +inky shadows, and patches of dazzling white. The cold +air struck him like needles, and he said to himself that it +was no wonder that either a cat or a woman should cry +if she had to stay out in the snow on such a night. The +moaning and wailing ceased as he opened the door, but +now two round spots of flame shone out of a black +shadow and stared at him unwinkingly. The lynx's +pupils were wide open, and the golden-yellow tapeta in +the backs of her eyeballs were glowing like incandescent +lamps. It was no woman. No human eyes could ever +shine like that. The land-looker threw the brand with +all his might; an ugly snarl came from the shadow, and +he saw a big gray animal go tearing away across the +hard, smooth crust in a curious kind of gallop, taking +three or four yards at a bound, coming down on all +four feet at once, and spring forward again as if she +was made of rubber. He shut the door and went back +to bed.</p> + +<p>That was the end of the concert, and, as it turned out, +it was also the end of the lynx's troubles, at least for the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +time being. Half an hour later, as she was loping along +in the moonlight, she thought she heard a faint sound +from beneath her feet. She stood still to listen, and the +next minute she was sure. During the last heavy snow-storm +three partridges had dived into a drift for shelter +from the wind and the cold, and such a thick, hard crust +had formed over their heads that they had not been able +to get out again. She resurrected them in short order +and reinterred them after a fashion of her own, and then +she went home to her hollow tree and slept the sleep of +those who have done what Nature tells them to, and +whose consciences are clear and whose stomachs full.</p> + +<p>That was her nearest approach to starvation. She +never was quite so hungry again, and in the early spring +she had a great piece of luck. Not very far from her +hollow tree she met a buck that had been mortally +wounded by a hunter. He had had strength enough to +run away, and to throw his pursuer off his track, but +there was very little fight left in him. In such a case as +this she was quite ready to attack, and it did not take +her long to finish him. Probably it was a merciful release, +for he had suffered greatly in the last few days. +Fortunately no wolves or other large animals found him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +and he gave her meat till after the kittens had come and +she had begun to grow well and strong again.</p> + +<p>The kittens were a great success—two of the finest she +had ever had, and she had had many. But at first, of +course, they were rather insignificant-looking—just two +little balls of reddish-brown fur that turned over once in +a while and mewed for their dinner. Some of the scientific +men say that a new-born baby has no mind, but +only a blank something that appears to be capable of +receiving and retaining impressions, and that may in certain +cases have tendencies. There is reason for thinking +that the baby lynxes had tendencies. But imagine, if you +can, what their first impressions were like. And remember +that they were blind, and that if their ears heard +sounds they certainly did not comprehend them. Sometimes +they were cold and hungry and lonesome, and that +was an impression of the wrong sort. They did not +know what the trouble was, but something was the matter, +that was certain, and they cried about it, like other +babies. Then would come a great, warm, comforting +presence, and all would be right again; and that was a +very pleasant impression, indeed. I don't suppose they +knew exactly what had been done to them. Probably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> +they were not definitely aware that their empty stomachs +had been filled, or that their shrinking, shivering little +bodies were snuggled down in somebody's thick fur coat, +or that somebody's warm red tongue was licking and +stroking and caressing them. Much less could they have +known how that big, strong, comforting somebody came +to be there, or how many harmless and guiltless little +lives had been snuffed out to give her life and to enable +her to give it to them. But they knew that all was well +with them, and that everything was just as it should be—and +they took another nap.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 290px;"> +<img src="images/gs006.jpg" width="290" height="450" alt=""The hole was suddenly darkened, and a round, hairy face looked in."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"The hole was suddenly darkened, and a round, hairy face looked in."</span> +</div> + +<p>By and by they began to look about for impressions, +and were no longer content with lying still and taking +only what came to them. They seemed to acquire a +mental appetite for impressions that was almost as ravenous +as their stomachs' appetite for milk, and their weak +little legs were forced to lift their squat little bodies and +carry them on exploring expeditions around the inside of +the hollow tree, where they bumped their heads against +the walls, and stumbled and fell down over the inequalities +of the floor. They got a good many impressions +during these excursions, and some of them were mental +and some were physical. And sometimes they explored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +their mother, and went scrambling and sprawling all over +her, probably getting about as well acquainted with her +as it is possible to be with a person whom one has never +seen. For their eyes were still closed, and they must +have known her only as a big, kind, loving, furry thing, +that fed them, and warmed them, and licked them, and +made them feel good, and yet was almost as vague and +indefinite as something in a dream. But the hour came +at last when for the first time they saw the light of day +shining in through the hole in the side of their tree. +And while they were looking at it—and probably blinking +at it—a footstep sounded outside, the hole was suddenly +darkened, and a round, hairy face looked in—a +face with big, unwinking eyes, pointed, tufted ears, and +a thick whisker brushed back from under its chin. Do +you suppose they recognized their mother? I don't believe +they did. But when she jumped in beside them, +then they knew her, and the impression they gained that +day was one of the most wonderful of all.</p> + +<p>In looks, these kittens of the woods were not so very +different from those of the backyard, except that they +were bigger and perhaps a little clumsier, and that their +paws were very large, and their tails very short and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +stubby. They grew stronger as the days went on, and +their legs did not wobble quite so much when they went +travelling around the inside of the tree. And they +learned to use their ears as well as their eyes. They +knew what their mother's step meant at the entrance, +and they liked to hear her purr.</p> + +<p>Other sounds there were which they did not understand +so well, and to most of which they gave little heed—the +scream of the rabbit when the big gray cat leaps +on him from behind a bush; the scolding of the red +squirrel, disturbed and angry at the sight, and fearful +that he may be the next victim; the bark of the fox; the +rasping of the porcupine's teeth; and oftenest of all the +pleasant rustling and whispering of the trees, for by this +time the sun and the south wind had come back and done +their work, and the voice of the leaves was heard in the +land. All these noises of the woods, and many others +besides, came to them from outside the walls of the tree, +from a vast, mysterious region of which as yet they knew +nothing except that their mother often went there. She +was beginning to think that they were big enough and +old enough to learn something more about it, and so one +day she led them out of the hole, and they saw the sunshine,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +and the blue of the sky, and the green of the trees, +and the whiteness of the sailing clouds, and the beauty of +the Glimmerglass. But I don't think they appreciated +the wonder and the glory of it all, or paid as much attention +to it as they ought. They were too much interested +in making their legs work properly, for their knees +were still rather weak, and were apt to give out all of a +sudden, and to let a fellow sit down when he didn't want +to. And the dry leaves and little sticks kept sliding +around under one's feet so that one never knew what was +going to happen next. It was very different from the hollow +tree, and they were glad when their mother picked +them up one at a time by the back of the neck, carried +them home, gave them their supper, and told them to lie +still and take a nap while she went after another rabbit.</p> + +<p>But they had really done very well, considering that it +was their first day out. One of them in particular was +very smart and precocious, and she had taken much +pleasure in watching the independent way in which he +went staggering about, looking for impressions. And +the other was not far behind him. Her long hours of +still-hunting had brought their rich reward, and her +babies were all that she could ask.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was in the habit of occasionally bringing something +home for them to play with—a wood-mouse, perhaps, +or a squirrel, or a partridge, or even a larger animal; +and they played with it with a vengeance, shaking +and worrying it, and spitting and growling and snarling +over it in the most approved fashion. And you should +have seen them the first time they saw their mother catch +a rabbit. They did not try to help her, for she had told +them not to, but they watched her as if it was a matter +of life and death—as, indeed, it was, but not to them. +The rabbit was nibbling some tender young sprouts. +The old lynx crept up behind him very quietly and +stealthily, and the kittens' eyes stuck out farther and +farther as they saw her gradually work up within leaping +distance. They nearly jumped out of their skins with +excitement when at last she gave a bound and landed +with both forepaws on the middle of his back. And +when the rabbit screamed out in his fright and pain, they +could not contain themselves any longer, but rushed +in and helped finish him. They seemed to understand +the game as perfectly as if they had been practising it +for years. I suppose that was where their tendencies +came in.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>A few days later they had another experience—or at +least one of them did. Their mother happened to see +two little wood-mice run under a small, half-decayed log, +and she put her forefeet against it and rolled it half-way +over; and then, while she held it there, the larger Kitten—the +one who had made the better record the day they +first left the den—thrust his paw under and grabbed one +of them. The other mouse got away, but I don't think +the Kitten cared very much. He had made his first kill, +and that was glory enough for one day.</p> + +<p>From wood-mice the kittens progressed to chipmunks, +and from them to larger game. With use and exercise +their soft baby muscles grew hard and strong, and it was +not long before they were able to follow the old lynx +almost anywhere, to the tops of the tallest trees, over +the roughest ground, and through the densest thickets. +And they learned other things besides how to walk and +climb and hunt. Their mother was a good teacher and +a rather rigid disciplinarian, and very early in life they +were taught that they must obey promptly and without +question, and that on certain occasions it was absolutely +necessary to keep perfectly still and not make the slightest +sound. For instance, there was the time when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +whole family lay sprawled out on a limb of a tree, fifteen +or twenty feet up from the ground, and watched the +land-looker go by with his half-axe over his shoulder, his +compass in his hand, and a note-book sticking out of his +pocket. They were so motionless, and the grayish color +of their fur matched so well with the bark of the tree, +that he never saw them, although for a moment they +were right over his head, and could have leaped to his +shoulders as easily as not.</p> + +<p>In short, the kittens were learning to take care of +themselves, and it was well that they were, for one day +their mother was taken from them in a strange, sad way, +and there was nothing they could do but cry, and try to +follow her, and at last see her pass out of sight, still +looking back and calling to them pitifully. It was the +river that carried her off, and it was a floating saw-log +that she rode upon, an unwilling passenger. The trouble +began with a steel trap, just as it did in their father's +case. Traps are not nearly as much to be feared in summer +or early fall as in winter, for the simple reason that +one's fur is not as valuable in warm weather as in cold. +The lynx's, for instance, was considerably shorter and +thinner than it had been in the preceding December,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +when she and her mate first met, and it had taken on a +reddish tinge, as if the steel had begun to rust a trifle. +But the killing machines are to be found occasionally +at all seasons of the year, and somebody had set this one +down by the edge of the water—not the Glimmerglass, +but a branch of the Tahquamenon River—and had +chained it to a log that had been hung up in last spring's +drive. When she first felt its grip on her leg she yelled +and tore around just as her mate had done, while the kittens +looked on in wonder and amazement. They had seen +their mother in many moods, but never in one like this. +But by and by she grew weary, and a little later it began +to rain. She was soon soaking wet, and as the hours +dragged on every ounce of courage and gumption seemed +to ooze out of her. If the trapper had come then he +would have found her very meek and limp. Possibly +she would have been ready to fight him for her children's +sakes, but nothing else could have nerved her to it. But +she was not put to any such test; the trapper did not +come.</p> + +<p>It rained very hard, and it rained very long. In fact +it had been raining most of the time for two or three +days before the lynx found the trap, and in a few more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +hours the Great Tahquamenon Swamp was as full of +water as a soaked sponge, and the river was rising +rapidly. The lynx was soon lying in a puddle, and to +get out of it she climbed upon the log and stretched herself +out on the wet, brown bark. Still the river rose, +and by and by the log began to stir in its bed, as if it +were thinking of renewing its voyage. At last, when she +had been there nearly twenty-four hours, and was faint +with hunger, as well as cold and wet, it quietly swung +out into the current and drifted away down the stream. +She was an excellent swimmer, and she promptly jumped +overboard and tried to reach the shore, but of course the +chain put a stop to that. Weakened by fasting, and +borne down by the weight of the trap, she came very +near drowning before she could scramble up again over +the end of the log and seat herself amidships.</p> + +<p>The kittens were foraging among the bushes, but she +called to them in a tone which told them plainly enough +that some new trouble had befallen her, and they hurried +down to the water's edge, and stood there, mewing +piteously. She implored them to follow her, and after +much persuasion the bigger and bolder of the two +plunged bravely in. But he didn't get very far. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +was very cold and very wet, and he wasn't used to swimming. +Besides, the water got into his nose and made +him sneeze, which distracted his attention so that for a +moment he forgot all about his mother, and just turned +around and hustled back to the shore as fast as he could +go. After that he, contented himself with following +along the bank and keeping as near her as he could. +Once the log drifted in so close that she thought she +could jump ashore, and the Kitten watched eagerly as she +gathered herself for the spring. But the chain was too +short, and she fell into the water. Her forepaw just +grazed the grass-tuft where the Kitten was standing, and +for an instant she felt the blades slipping between her +toes; but the next moment she was swimming for the log +again, and the Kitten was mewing his sympathy at the +top of his voice.</p> + +<p>They journeyed on for nearly an hour longer, she on +her prison-ship, and he on land; and then, before either +of them knew just what had happened, the little tributary +had emptied itself into the main stream of the Tahquamenon, +and they suddenly realized that they were +much farther apart than they had been at any time before. +This new river was several times as broad as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +one on which the voyage had begun, and the wind was +steadily carrying her away from the shore, while the current +bore her resistlessly on in its long, slow voyage to +Lake Superior. She was still calling to him, but her +voice was growing fainter and fainter in the distance, +and so, at last, she passed out of his sight and hearing +forever.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs007.jpg" width="500" height="324" alt=""He was a very presentable young lynx."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"He was a very presentable young lynx."</span> +</div> + +<p>And then, for the first time, he missed his brother. +The other kitten had always been a trifle the slower of +the two, and in some way he had dropped behind. Our +friend was alone in the world.</p> + +<p>But the same river that had carried his mother away +brought him a little comfort in his desolation, for down +by the water's edge, cast up on the sand by a circling +eddy, he found a dead sucker. He ate it with relish, and +felt better in spite of himself. It made a very large +meal for a lynx of his size, and by the time he had finished +it he began to be drowsy, so he picked out the +driest spot he could find, under the thick branches of a +large hemlock, and curled himself up on the brown +needles and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>The next day he had to hustle for a living, and the +next it was the same, and the next, and the next. As<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +the weeks and the months went by there was every indication +that life would be little else than one long hustle—or +perhaps a short one—and in spite of all he could do +there were times when he was very near the end of the +chapter. But his mother's lessons stood him in good +stead, and he was exceedingly well armed for the chase. +It would have been hard to find in all the woods any +teeth better adapted than his to the work of pulling a +fellow-creature to pieces. In front, on both the upper +and lower jaws, were the chisel-shaped incisors. Flanking +them were the canines, very long and slender, and +very sharply pointed, thrusting themselves into the meat +like the tines of a carving-fork, and tearing it away in +great shreds. And back of the canines were other teeth +that were still larger, but shorter and broader, and +shaped more like notched knife-blades. Those of the +lower jaw worked inside those of the upper, like shears, +and they were very handy for cutting the large chunks +into pieces small enough to go down his throat. By the +time he got through with a partridge there was not much +left of it but a puddle of brown feathers. His claws, too, +were very long and white, and very wickedly curved; and +before starting out on a hunt he would often get up on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +his hind legs and sharpen those of his forefeet on a tree-trunk, +just as your house-cat sharpens hers on the leg of +the kitchen-table. When he wasn't using them he kept +them hidden between his toes, so that they would not be +constantly catching and breaking on roots and things; +but all he had to do when he wanted them was to pull +certain muscles, and out they came, ready to scratch and +tear to his heart's content. They were not by any means +full grown as yet, but they bade fair to equal his father's +some day. He was warmly and comfortably clothed, of +course, and along his sides and flanks the hair hung especially +thick and long, to protect his body when he was +obliged to wade through light, fluffy snow. When there +was a crust he didn't need it, for his paws were so big +and broad and hairy that at such times they bore him up +almost as well as if they had been two pairs of snow-shoes.</p> + +<p>But, well armed, well clad, and well shod though he +was, it was fortunate for the Kitten that his first winter +was a mild one—mild, that is, for the Glimmerglass +country. Otherwise things might have gone very hard +with him, and they were none too easy as it was. There +were days when he was even hungrier than his mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +had been the night she serenaded the land-looker, and it +was on one of these occasions that he found a porcupine +in a tree and tried to make a meal of him. That was +a memorable experience. The porky was sitting in a +crotch, doing nothing in particular, and when the Kitten +approached he simply put his nose down and his quills +up. The Kitten spat at him contemptuously, but without +any apparent effect. Then he put out a big forepaw +and tapped him lightly on the forehead. The porcupine +flipped his tail, and the Kitten jumped back, and +spat and hissed harder than ever. He didn't quite know +what to make of this singular-looking creature, but he +was young and rash, besides being awfully, awfully hungry, +and in another minute he pitched in.</p> + +<p>The next thing they knew, the porcupine had dropped +to the ground, where he lit in a snow-bank, and presently +picked himself up and waddled off to another tree, while +the Kitten—well, the Kitten just sat in the crotch and +cried as hard as ever he could cry. There were quills in +his nose, and quills in his side, and quills in both his forepaws; +and every motion was agony. He himself never +knew exactly how he got rid of them all, so of course I +can't tell you. A few of those that were caught only by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +their very tips may possibly have dropped out, but it is +probable that most of them broke off and left their points +to work deeper and deeper into the flesh until the skin +finally closed over them and they disappeared. I have no +doubt that pieces of those quills are still wandering about +in various parts of his anatomy, like the quart of lead +that "Little Bobs" carries around with him, according to +Mr. Kipling. It was weeks before he ceased to feel the +pain of them.</p> + +<p>For several days after this mishap it was impossible for +him to hunt, and he would certainly have starved to +death if it had not been for a cougar who providentially +came to the Glimmerglass on a short visit. The Kitten +found his tracks in the snow the very next day, and cautiously +followed them up, limping as he went, to see what +the big fellow had been doing. For a mile or more the +large, round, shapeless footprints—very much like his +own, but on a bigger scale—were spaced so regularly that +it was evident the cougar had been simply walking along at +a very leisurely gait, with nothing to disturb his frame of +mind. But after a while the record showed a remarkable +change. The footprints were only a few inches apart, +and his cougarship had carried himself so low that his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +body had dragged in the snow and left a deep furrow +behind. The Kitten knew what that meant. He had +been there himself, though not after the same kind of +prey. And then the trail stopped entirely, and for a +space the snow lay fresh and virgin and untrodden. +But twenty feet away was the spot where the cougar had +come down on all-fours, only to leap forward again like a +ricochetting cannon-ball; and twenty-five feet farther lay +the greater part of the carcass of a deer.</p> + +<p>The Kitten stuffed himself as full as he could hold, and +then climbed a tree and watched. About midnight the +cougar appeared, and after he had eaten his fill and gone +away again the Kitten slipped down and ate some more. +He was making up for lost time. For four successive +nights the cougar came and feasted on venison, but after +that the Kitten never saw him or heard of him again. +There was still a goodly quantity of meat left, and it +seems somewhat curious that he did not return for it, but +he was a stranger in those parts, and it is probable that +he went back to his old haunts, up toward Whitefish +Point, perhaps, or the Grand Sable. Anyhow, it was +very nice for the Kitten, for that deer kept him in provisions +until he was able to take up hunting once more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had one rather exciting experience during this +period. One day, just as he was finishing a very enjoyable +meal of venison tenderloin, he heard the tramp of +snow-shoes on the crust, and in a moment more that same +land-looker came pacing down a section line and halted +squarely in front of him. Now there are trappers who +say that a Canada lynx is a fool and a coward, that he +will run from a small dog, and that he makes his living +entirely by preying on animals that are weaker and more +poorly armed than he. I admit, of course, that the majority +of lynxes do not go ramming around the woods with +chips on their shoulders, looking for hunters armed with +bowie-knives and repeating rifles. You wouldn't, either—not +as long as there were rabbits to be had for the stalking. +But on this occasion the Kitten's conduct certainly +savored of recklessness, if not of real bravery. Being entirely +unacquainted with the land-looking profession, he +naturally supposed that the man had come for his deer. +And he didn't propose to let him have it. He considered +that that venison belonged to him, and he took his stand +on the carcass, laid his ears back, showed his white teeth, +made his eyes blaze, and spit and growled and snarled +defiantly. The land-looker didn't quite know what to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +do. His section line lay straight across the deer's body, +and he did not want to leave it for fear of confusing his +reckoning, but the Kitten, though only half grown, looked +uncommonly business-like. He had no gun, nor even a +revolver, for he was hunting for pine, not fresh meat. +He had left his half-axe in camp, and when he felt in +his pocket for his jack-knife it was not there. Then he +looked about for a club. He had been told that lynxes +always had very thin skulls, and that a light blow on the +back of the head was enough to kill the biggest and fiercest +of them, let alone a kitten. But he couldn't even +find a stick that would answer his purpose.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, when they had stared at each other a +minute or two longer without coming to any understanding, +"I suppose if you won't turn out for me, I'll have +to turn out for you"; and he made a careful circuit at a +respectful distance, picked up his line again, and went on +his way.</p> + +<p>The winter dragged on very slowly, with many ups and +downs, but it was gone at last. Summer was easier, if +only because he was not obliged to use up any of his +vitality in keeping warm. Sometimes, indeed, he was +really too warm for comfort, so he presently changed his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +coat and put on a thinner one. People like to talk about +the coolness of the deep woods, but the truth is that +there isn't any place much hotter and stuffier than a dense +growth of timber, where the wind never comes, and where +the air is heavy and still. And then there are the windfalls +and the old burnings, where the sun beats fiercely +down among the fallen trees till the blackened soil is hot +as a city pavement, and where dead trunks and half-burned +logs lie thrown together in the wildest confusion—places +which are almost impassable for men, and which +even the land-lookers avoid whenever they can, but which +a cat will thread as readily as the locomotive follows the +rails. These were the localities which the Kitten was +most fond of frequenting, and here his youth slipped +rapidly away. He was fast becoming an adult lynx.</p> + +<p>The summer passed, and half the autumn; the first +snow came and went, and again the Kitten put on his +winter coat of gray, with the white underneath, and the +dark trimmings up and down his legs and along his back. +What with his mustachios, and his whiskers, and the +tassels on his ears, he was a very presentable young lynx. +It would be many years before he could hope to be as +large and powerful as his father, but, nevertheless, he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +making remarkably good progress. And the time was at +hand when he would need both his good looks and his +muscle.</p> + +<p>Since his mother had left him he had seen only two or +three lynxes, and those were all much older and larger +than he, and not well suited to be his companions. But +history repeats itself. One Indian-summer afternoon he +was tramping along the northern bank of the Glimmerglass, +just as his father had done two years before, and +as he rounded a bend in the path he came face to face +with someone who was enough like him to have been his +twin sister. And they did as his parents had done, stood +still for a minute or two and looked at each other as if +they had just found out what they were made for. After +all, life is something more than hustling for a living, even +in the woods.</p> + +<p>But just then something else happened, and another +ruling passion came into play—the old instinct of the +chase, which neither of them could very long forget. A +faint "Quack, quack, quack," came up from the lake, and +they crept to the edge of the bank, side by side, and +looked down. Above them the trees stood dreamily +motionless in the mellow sunshine. Below was a steep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +slope of ten or fifteen feet; beyond it a tiny strip of +sandy beach, and then the quiet water. A squadron of +ducks, on their way from the Arctic Circle to the Gulf, +had taken stop-over checks for the Glimmerglass; and +now they came loitering along through the dead bulrushes, +murmuring gently, in soft, mild voices, of delicious +minnows and snails, and pausing a moment now +and then to put their heads under and dabble in the mud +for some particularly choice morsel. The lynxes crouched +and waited, while their stubby tails twitched nervously, +their long, narrow pupils grew still narrower, and their +paws fumbled about among the dry pine-needles, feeling +for the very best footing for the flying leap. The ducks +came on, still prattling pleasantly over their own private +affairs. Closer and closer they swam, without a thought +of death waiting for them at the top of the bank, and +suddenly four splendid sets of muscles jerked like bowstrings, +four long hind-legs straightened with a mighty +thrust and shove, and two big gray creatures shot out +from the brink and came sailing down through the air +with their heads up, their tails on end, their eyes blazing, +and their forepaws stretched out to grab the nearest +unhappy duck. The flock broke up with frightened cries<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +and a wonderful whirring of wings, and in a moment +more they were far away and going like the very wind.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs008.jpg" width="500" height="320" alt=""They both stood still and looked at each other."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"They both stood still and looked at each other."</span> +</div> + +<p>But two of its members stayed behind, and presently +the lynxes waded out on the beach and sat down to eat +their supper together. They talked as much over that +meal as the ducks had over theirs, but the lynx language +is very different from that of the water-fowl. Instead of +soft, gentle murmurings there were low growls and snarls +as the long, white claws and teeth tore the warm red +flesh from the bones. It could hardly have been a pleasant +conversation to anyone but themselves, but I suppose +they enjoyed it as much as the choicest repartee. +In truth they had good reason to be satisfied and contented +with themselves and each other, and with what +they had just done, for not every flying leap is so successful, +and not every duck is as plump and juicy as the two +that they were discussing. So they talked on in angry, +threatening tones, that sounded like quarrelling, but that +really meant only a fierce, savage kind of pleasure; and +when the meal was ended, and the very last shred of duck-flesh +had disappeared, they washed their faces, and purred, +and lay still a while to visit and get acquainted.</p> + +<p>There were many other meetings during the weeks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +that followed—some under as pleasant circumstances as +the first, and some not. Perhaps the best were those of +the clear, sharp days of early winter, when the sky was +blue, and the sunshine was bright, and a thin carpet of +fine, dry snow covered the floor of the forest. It was +cold, of course; but they were young and strong and +healthy, and their fur was thick and warm, like the garments +of a Canadian girl. The keen air set the live +blood leaping and dancing, and they frisked and frolicked, +and romped and played, and rolled each other over and +over in the snow, and were as wildly and deliciously happy +as it is ever given to two animals to be.</p> + +<p>It was too good to last long without some kind of an +interruption, and one glorious winter evening, when the +full moon was flooding the woods with the white light +that brings a touch of madness, a third young lynx came +upon the scene. And then there was trouble. The +Kitten's new friend sat back in the bushes and looked on, +while he and his rival squatted face to face in the snow +and sassed each other to the utmost limits of the lynx +vocabulary, their voices rising and falling in a hideous +duet, and their eyes gleaming and glowing with a pale, +yellow-green fire. Presently there was a rush, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +fur began to fly. The snow flew, too; and the woods +rang and rang again with yelling and caterwauling, and +spitting and swearing, and all manner of abuse. The +rabbits heard it, and trembled; and the partridges, down +in the cedar swamp, glanced furtively over their shoulders +and were glad it was no nearer. They bit and +scratched and clawed like two little devils, and the onlooker +in the bushes must have felt a thrill of pride over +the strenuous way in which they strove for her favors. +First one was on top, and then the other. Now our +Kitten had his rival by the ears, and now by the tail. +One minute heads, legs, and bodies were all mixed up in +such a snarl that it seemed as if they could never be untangled, +and the next they backed off just long enough +to catch their breath, and then flew at each other's +throats more savagely than ever. It was really more +difficult than you would suppose for either of them to get +a good hold of the other, partly because their fur was so +thick, and partly because Nature had purposely made +their skins very loose, with an eye to just such performances +as this. But they managed to do a good deal of +damage, nevertheless; and in the end the pretender was +thoroughly whipped, and fled away in disgrace down the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +long, snowy aisles of the forest, howling as he went, while +the Kitten turned slowly and painfully to the one who +was at the bottom of all this unpleasantness. His ears +were slit; one eye was shut, and the lid of the other +hung very low; he limped badly with his right hind-leg, +and many were the wounds and scratches along his breast +and sides. But he didn't care. He had won his spurs.</p> + +<p>The story of the Kitten is told, for he was a kitten no +longer.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + + + + +<h2>POINTERS FROM A PORCUPINE QUILL</h2> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + + + +<div class='cap'>HE wasn't handsome—the original owner of this quill—and +I can't say that he was very smart. He was only +a slow-witted, homely old porky who once lived by the +Glimmerglass. But in spite of his slow wits and his +homeliness a great many things happened to him in the +course of his life.</div> + +<p>He was born in a hollow hemlock log, on a wild April +morning, when the north wind was whipping the lake +with snow, and when winter seemed to have come back +for a season. The Glimmerglass was neither glimmering +nor glassy that morning, but he and his mother were +snug and warm in their wooden nest, and they cared little +for the storm that was raging outside.</p> + +<p>It has been said by some that porcupines lay eggs, the +hard, smooth shells of which are furnished by a kind and +thoughtful Providence for the protection of the mothers +from their prickly offspring until the latter have fairly +begun their independent existence. Other people say +that two babies invariably arrive at once, and that one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +of them is always dead before it is born. But when my +Porcupine discovered America he had neither a shell on +his back nor a dead twin brother by his side. Neither +was he prickly. He was covered all over with soft, furry, +dark-brown hair. If you had searched carefully along +the middle of his back you might possibly have found +the points of the first quills, just peeping through the +skin; but as yet the thick fur hid them from sight and +touch unless you knew just where and how to look for +them.</p> + +<p>He was a very large baby, larger even than a new-born +bear cub, and no doubt his mother felt a justifiable pride +in his size and his general peartness. She was certainly +very careful of him and very anxious for his safety, for +she kept him out of sight, and no one ever saw him +during those first days and weeks of his babyhood. She +did not propose to have any lynxes or wild-cats or other +ill-disposed neighbors fondling him until his quills were +grown. After that they might give him as many love-pats +as they pleased.</p> + +<p>He grew rapidly, as all porcupine babies do. Long +hairs, tipped with yellowish-white, came out through the +dense fur, and by and by the quills began to show. His<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +teeth were lengthening, too, as his mother very well knew, +and between the sharp things in his mouth and those on +his back and sides he was fast becoming a very formidable +nursling. Before he was two months old she was +forced to wean him, but by that time he was quite able +to travel down to the beach and feast on the tender lily-pads +and arrow-head leaves that grew in the shallow +water, within easy reach from fallen and half-submerged +tree-trunks.</p> + +<p>One June day, as he and his mother were fishing for +lily-pads, each of them out on the end of a big log, a boy +came down the steep bank that rose almost from the +water's edge. He wasn't a very attractive boy. His +clothes were dirty and torn—and so was his face. His +hat was gone, and his hair had not seen a comb for +weeks. The mosquitoes and black-flies and no-see-'ems +had bitten him until his skin was covered with blotches +and his eyelids were so swollen that he could hardly see. +And worst of all, he looked as if he were dying of starvation. +There was almost nothing left of him but skin and +bones, and his clothing hung upon him as it would on a +framework of sticks. If the Porcupine could have philosophized +about it he would probably have said that this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +was the wrong time of year for starving; and from his +point of view he would have been right. June, in the +woods, is the season of plenty for everybody but man. +Man thinks he must have wheat-flour, and that doesn't +grow on pines or maple-trees, nor yet in the tamarack +swamp. But was there any wild, fierce glare in the boy's +eyes, such a light of hunger as the story-books tell us +is to be seen in the eyes of the wolf and the lynx when +they have not eaten for days and days, and when the +snow lies deep in the forest, and famine comes stalking +through the trees? I don't think so. He was too weak +and miserable to do any glaring, and his stomach was +aching so hard from eating green gooseberries that he +could scarcely think of anything else.</p> + +<p>But his face brightened a very little when he saw the +old she-porcupine, and he picked up a heavy stick and +waded out beside her log. She clacked her teeth together +angrily as he approached; but he paid no attention, +so she drew herself into a ball, with her head down +and her nose covered by her forepaws. Reaching across +her back and down on each side was a belt or girdle of +quills, the largest and heaviest on her whole body, which +could be erected at will, and now they stood as straight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +as young spruce-trees. Their tips were dark-brown, but +the rest of their length was nearly white, and when you +looked at her from behind she seemed to have a pointed +white ruffle, edged with black, tied around the middle of +her body. But the boy wasn't thinking about ruffles, +and he didn't care what she did with her quills. He +gave her such a thrust with his stick that she had to +grab at the log with both hands to keep from being +shoved into the water. That left her nose unprotected, +and he brought the stick down across it once, twice, three +times. Then he picked her up by one foot, very gingerly, +and carried her off; and our Porky never saw his +mother again.</p> + +<p>Perhaps we had best follow her up and see what finally +became of her. Half a mile from the scene of the murder +the boy came upon a woman and a little girl. I +sha'n't try to describe them, except to say that they were +even worse off than he. Perhaps you read in the papers, +some years ago, about the woman and the two children +who were lost for several weeks in the woods of northern +Michigan.</p> + +<p>"I've got a porky," said the boy.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 289px;"> +<img src="images/gs009.jpg" width="289" height="450" alt=""High up in the top of a tall hemlock."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"High up in the top of a tall hemlock."</span> +</div> + +<p>He dropped his burden on the ground, and they all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +stood around and looked at it. They were hungry—oh, +so hungry!—but for some reason they did not seem very +eager to begin. An old porcupine with her clothes on +is not the most attractive of feasts, and they had no +knife with which to skin her, no salt to season the meat, +no fire to cook it, and no matches with which to start +one. Rubbing two sticks together is a very good way of +starting a fire when you are in a book, but it doesn't work +very well in the Great Tahquamenon Swamp. And yet, +somehow or other—I don't know how, and I don't want +to—they ate that porcupine. And it did them good. +When the searchers found them, a week or two later, the +woman and the boy were dead, but the little girl was +still alive, and for all I know she is living to this day.</p> + +<p>Let us return to the Glimmerglass. The young Porcupine +ought to have mourned deeply for his mother, but +I grieve to say that he did nothing of the kind. I doubt +if he was even very lonesome. His brain was smaller, +smoother, and less corrugated than yours is supposed to +be; its wrinkles were few and not very deep; and it may +be that the bump of filial affection was quite polished, or +even that there wasn't any such bump at all. Anyhow, +he got along very well without her, dispensing with her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +much more easily than the woman and the boy and girl +could have. He watched stolidly while the boy killed +her and carried her off, and a little later he was eating +lily-pads again.</p> + +<p>As far as his future prospects were concerned, he had +little reason for worrying. He knew pretty well how to +take care of himself, for that is a kind of knowledge which +comes early to young porcupines. Really, there wasn't +much to learn. His quills would protect him from most +of his enemies, if not from all of them; and, what was +still better, he need never suffer from a scarcity of food. +Of all the animals in the woods the porcupine is probably +the safest from starvation, for he can eat anything +from the soft green leaves of the water-plants to the bark +and the small twigs of the tallest hemlock. Summer and +winter, his storehouse is always full. The young lions +may lack, and suffer hunger, and seek their meat from +God; but the young porky has only to climb a tree and +set his teeth at work. All the woods are his huckleberry.</p> + +<p>And, by the way, our Porcupine's teeth were a great +institution, especially the front ones, and were well +worthy of a somewhat detailed description. They were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +long and sharp and yellow, and there were two in the +upper jaw and two in the lower, with a wide gap on each +side between them and the molars. They kept right on +growing as long as he lived, and there is no telling how +far they would have gone if there had been nothing to +stop them. Fortunately, he did a great deal of eating +and chewing, and the constant friction kept them worn +down, and at the same time served to sharpen them. +Like a beaver's, they were formed of thin shells of hard +enamel in front, backed up by softer pulp behind; and +of course the soft parts wore away first, and left the +enamel projecting in sharp, chisel-like edges that could +gnaw crumbs from a hickory axe-handle.</p> + +<p>The next few months were pleasant ones, with plenty +to eat, and nothing to do but keep his jaws going. By +and by the leaves began to fall, and whenever the Porky +walked abroad they rustled around him like silk skirts +going down the aisle of a church. A little later the +beechnuts came down from the sky, and he feasted more +luxuriously than ever. His four yellow chisels tore the +brown shells open, his molars ground the sweet kernels +into meal, and he ate and ate till his short legs could +hardly keep his fat little belly off the ground.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then came the first light snow, and his feet left tracks +which bore a faint resemblance to a baby's—that is, if +your imagination was sufficiently vigorous. The snow +grew deeper and deeper, and after a while he had to fairly +plough his way from the hollow log to the tree where +he took his meals. It was hard work, for his clumsy legs +were not made for wading, and at every step he had to +lift and drag himself forward, and then let his body drop +while he shifted his feet. A porcupine's feet will not go +of themselves, the way other animals' do. They have to +be picked up one at a time and lifted forward as far as +they can reach—not very far at the best, for they are +fastened to the ends of very short legs. It almost seems +as if he could run faster if he could drop them off and +leave them behind. One evening, when the snow was beginning +to freeze again after a thawing day, he lay down +to rest for a few minutes; and when he started on, some of +his quills were fast in the hardening crust and had to be +left behind. But no matter how difficult the walk might +be, there was always a good square meal at the end of it, +and he pushed valiantly on till he reached his dinner-table.</p> + +<p>Sometimes he stayed in the same tree for several days<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +at a time, quenching his thirst with snow, and sleeping in +a crotch.</p> + +<p>He was not by any means the only porcupine in the +woods around the Glimmerglass, although weeks sometimes +passed without his seeing any of his relations. At +other times there were from one to half a dozen porkies +in the trees close by, and when they happened to feel like +it they would call back and forth to each other in queer, +harsh, and often querulous voices.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, when he and another porcupine were +occupying trees next each other, two land-lookers came +along and camped for the night between them. Earlier +in the day the men had crossed the trail of a pack of +wolves, and they talked of it as they cut their firewood, +and, with all the skill of the <i>voyageurs</i> of old, cooked +their scanty supper, and made their bed of balsam boughs. +The half-breed was much afraid that they would have +visitors before morning, but the white man only laughed +at the idea.</p> + +<p>The meal was hardly finished when they lay down +between their blankets—the white man to sleep, and the +half-breed to listen, listen, listen for the coming of the +wolves. Beyond the camp-fire's little circle of ruddy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +light, vague shadows moved mysteriously, as if living +things were prowling about among the trees and only +waiting for him to fall asleep. Yet there was no wolf-howl +to be heard, nor anything else to break the silence +of the winter night, save possibly the dropping of a dead +branch, or the splitting open of a tree-trunk, torn apart +by the frost. And by and by, in spite of himself, the +half-breed's eyelids began to droop.</p> + +<p>But somebody else was awake—awake, and tempted +with a great temptation. The porcupine—not ours, but +the other one—had caught the fragrance of coffee and +bacon. Here were new odors—different from anything +that had ever before tickled his nostrils—strange, but +indescribably delicious. He waited till the land-lookers +were snoring, and then he started down the tree. Half-way +to the ground he encountered the cloud of smoke +that rose from the camp-fire. Here was another new +odor, but with nothing pleasant about it. It stung his +nostrils and made his eyes smart, and he scrambled up +again as fast as he could go, his claws and quills rattling +on the bark. The half-breed woke with a start. He had +heard something—he was sure he had—the wolves were +coming, and he gave the white man a punch in the ribs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wake up, wake up, m'shoor!" he whispered, excitedly. +"The wolves are coming. I can hear them on +the snow."</p> + +<p>The white man was up in a twinkling, but by that +time the porcupine hod settled himself in a crotch, out +of reach of the smoke, and the woods were silent again. +The two listened with all their ears, but there was not a +sound to be heard.</p> + +<p>"You must have been dreaming, Louis."</p> + +<p>The half-breed insisted that he had really heard the +patter of the wolves' feet on the snow-crust, but the timber +cruiser laughed at him, and lay down to sleep again. +An hour later the performance was repeated, and this +time the white man was angry.</p> + +<p>"Don't you wake me up again, Louis. You're so +rattled you don't know what you're doing."</p> + +<p>Louis was silenced, but not convinced, and he did not +let himself go to sleep again. The fire was dying down, +and little by little the smoke-cloud grew thinner and +thinner until it disappeared entirely. Then the half-breed +heard the same sound once more, but from the +tree overhead, and not from across the snow. He waited +and watched, and presently a dark-brown animal, two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +or three feet in length and about the shape of an egg, +came scrambling cautiously down the trunk. The porky +reached the ground in safety, and searched among the +tin plates and the knives and forks until he found a piece +of bacon rind; but he got just one taste of it, and then +Louis hit him over the head with a club. Next morning +the land-lookers had porcupine soup for breakfast, and +they told me afterward that it was very good indeed.</p> + +<p>Our Porky had seen it all. He waited till the men +had tramped away through the woods, with their packs +on their backs and their snow-shoes on their feet, and +then he, too, came down from his tree on a tour of investigation. +His friend's skin lay on the snow not very far +away—if you had pulled the quills and the longer hairs +out of it, it would have made the pelt which the old +fur-traders sometimes sold under the name of "spring +beaver"—but he paid no attention to it. The bacon +rind was what interested him most, and he chewed and +gnawed at it with a relish that an epicure might have +envied. It was the first time in all his gluttonous little +life that he had ever tasted the flavor of salt or wood-smoke; +and neither lily-pads, nor beechnuts, nor berries, +nor anything else in all the woods could compare with it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +Life was worth living, if only for this one experience; +and it may be that he stowed a dim memory of it away +in some dark corner of his brain, and hoped that fortune +would some day be good to him and send him another +rind.</p> + +<p>The long, long winter dragged slowly on, the snow +piled up higher and deeper, and the cold grew sharper +and keener. Night after night the pitiless stars seemed +sucking every last bit of warmth out of the old earth and +leaving it dead and frozen forever. Those were the +nights when the rabbits came out of their burrows and +stamped up and down their runways for hours at a time, +trying by exercise to keep from freezing to death, and +when the deer dared not lie down to sleep. And hunger +came with the cold and the deep snow. The buck and +the doe had to live on hemlock twigs till they grew thin +and poor. The partridges were buried in the drifting +snow, and starved to death. The lynxes and the wild-cats +hunted and hunted and hunted, and found no prey; +and it was well for the bears and the woodchucks that +they could sleep all winter and did not need food. Only +the Porcupine had plenty and to spare. Starvation had +no terrors for him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the hunger of another may mean danger for us, as +the Porcupine discovered. In ordinary times most of the +animals let him severely alone. They knew better than to +tackle such a living pin-cushion as he; and if any of them +ever did try it, one touch was generally enough. But +when you are ready to perish with hunger, you will take +risks which at other times you would not even think +about; and so it happened that one February afternoon, +as the Porky was trundling himself deliberately over the +snow-crust, a fierce-looking animal with dark fur, bushy +tail, and pointed nose sprang at him from behind a tree +and tried to catch him by the throat, where the quills +did not grow, and there was nothing but soft, warm fur. +The Porcupine knew just what to do in such a case, and +he promptly made himself into a prickly ball, very much +as his mother had done seven or eight months before, +with his face down, and his quills sticking out defiantly. +But this time his scheme of defence did not +work as well as usual, for the sharp little nose dug into +the snow and wriggled its way closer and closer to where +the jugular vein was waiting to be tapped. That fisher +must have understood his business, for he had chosen the +one and only way by which a porcupine may be successfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +attacked. For once in his life our friend was really +scared. Another inch, and the fisher would have won +the game, but he was in such a hurry that he grew careless +and reckless, and did not notice that he had wheeled +half-way round, and that his hind-quarters were alongside +the Porcupine's. Now, sluggish and slow though a +porky may be, there is one of his members that is as quick +as a steel trap, and that is his tail. Something hit the +fisher a whack on his flank, and he gave a cry of pain +and fury, and jumped back with half a dozen spears sticking +in his flesh. He must have quite lost his head during +the next few seconds, for before he knew it his face +also had come within reach of that terrible tail and its +quick, vicious jerks. That ended the battle, and he fled +away across the snow, almost mad with the agony in his +nose, his eyes, his forehead, and his left flank. As for +the Porky, he made for the nearest tree as fast as he +could go, hardly trusting in his great deliverance. And +I don't believe there is any sight in all the Great Tahquamenon +Swamp much funnier than a porky in a hurry—a +porky who has really made up his mind that he is +in danger and must hustle for dear life. He is the very +personification of haste and a desire to go somewhere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +quick, and he picks his feet up and puts them down +again as fast as ever he can; and yet, no matter how +hard he works, his legs are so short and his body so fat +that he can't begin to travel as fast as he wants to.</p> + +<p>Another day the lynx tried it, and fared even worse than +the fisher—not the Canada lynx, with whom we are already +somewhat acquainted, but the bay lynx. The fisher had +had some sense, and would probably have succeeded if he +had been a little more careful, but the lynx was a fool. +He didn't know the very first thing about the proper +way to hunt porcupines, and he ought never to have +tried it at all, but he was literally starving, and the +temptation was too much for him. Here was something +alive, something that had warm red blood in its veins +and a good thick layer of flesh over its bones, and that +was too slow to get away from him; and he sailed right +in, tooth and claw, regardless of the consequences. Immediately +he forgot all about the Porcupine, and his own +hunger, and everything else but the terrible pain in his +face and his forepaws. He made the woods fairly ring +with his howls, and he jumped up and down on the +snow-crust, rubbing his head with his paws, and driving +the little barbed spears deeper and deeper into the flesh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +And then, all of a sudden, he ceased his leaping and +bounding and howling, and dropped on the snow in a +limp, lifeless heap, dead as last summer's lily-pads. One +of the quills had driven straight through his left eye and +into his brain. Was it any wonder if in time the Porcupine +came to think himself invulnerable?</p> + +<p>Even a northern Michigan winter has its ending, and +at last there came an evening when all the porcupines +in the woods around the Glimmerglass were calling to +each other from one tree to another. They couldn't +help it. There was something in the air that stirred +them to a vague restlessness and uneasiness, and our own +particular Porky sat up in the top of a tall hemlock +and sang. Not like Jenny Lind, nor like a thrush or a +nightingale, but his harsh voice went squealing up and +down the scale in a way that was all his own, without +time or rhythm or melody, in the wildest, strangest music +that ever woke the silent woods. I don't believe that he +himself quite knew what he meant or why he did it. +Certainly no one else could have told, unless some wandering +Indian or trapper may have heard the queer voices +and prophesied that a thaw was coming.</p> + +<p>The thaw arrived next day, and it proved to be the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +beginning of spring. The summer followed as fast as it +could, and again the lily-pads were green and succulent +in the shallow water along the edge of the Glimmerglass, +and again the Porcupine wandered down to the beach to +feed upon them, discarding for a time his winter diet of +bark and twigs. Why should one live on rye-bread +when one can have cake and ice-cream?</p> + +<p>And there among the bulrushes, one bright June +morning, he had a fight with one of his own kind. Just +as he was approaching his favorite log, two other porcupines +appeared, coming from different directions, one a +male, and the other a female. They all scrambled out +upon the log, one after another, but it soon became evident +that three was a crowd. Our Porky and the other +bachelor could not agree at all. They both wanted the +same place and the same lily-pads, and in a little while +they were pushing and shoving and growling and snarling +with all their might, each doing his best to drive the +other off the log and into the water. They did not bite—perhaps +they had agreed that teeth like theirs were too +cruel to be used in civilized warfare—but they struggled +and chattered and swore at each other, and made all sorts +of queer noises while they fought their funny little battle—all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +the funnier because each of them had to look out +for the other's quills. If either had happened to push the +wrong way, they might both have been in serious trouble. +It did not last long. Our Porky was the stronger, and +his rival was driven backward little by little till he lost +his hold completely and slipped into the lake. He came +to the surface at once, and quickly swam to the shore, +where he chattered angrily for a few minutes, and then, +like the sensible bachelor that he was, wandered off up +the beach in search of other worlds more easily conquered. +There was peace on our Porky's log, and the lily-pads +that grew beside it had never been as fresh and juicy as +they were that morning.</p> + +<p>Two months later, on a hot August afternoon, I was +paddling along the edge of the Glimmerglass in company +with a friend of mine, each of us in a small dug-out +canoe, when we found the Porky asleep in the sunshine. +He was lying on the nearly horizontal trunk of a tree +whose roots had been undermined by the waves till it +leaned far out over the lake, hardly a foot from the +water.</p> + +<p>My friend, by the way, is the foreman of a lumber-camp. +He has served in the British army, has hunted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +whales off the coast of Greenland, married a wife in +Grand Rapids, and run a street-car in Chicago; and now +he is snaking logs out of the Michigan woods. He is +quite a chunk of a man, tall and decidedly well set up, +and it would take a pretty good prize-fighter to whip +him, but he learned that day that a porcupine at close +quarters is worse than a trained pugilist.</p> + +<p>"Look at that porky," he called to me. "I'm going +to ram the canoe into the tree and knock him off into +the water. Just you watch, and you'll see some fun."</p> + +<p>I was somewhat uncertain whether the joke would +ultimately be on the Porcupine or the man, but it was +pretty sure to be worth seeing, one way or the other, so +I laid my paddle down and awaited developments. Bang! +went the nose of the dug-out against the tree, and the +Porcupine dropped, but not into the water. He landed +in the bow of the canoe, and the horrified look on my +friend's face was a delight to see. The Porky was wide +awake by this time, for I could hear his teeth clacking as +he advanced to the attack.</p> + +<p>"Great Scott! He's coming straight at me!"</p> + +<p>The Porcupine was certainly game. I saw the paddle +rise in the air and come down with a tremendous whack,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +but it seemed to have little effect. The Porky's coat of +quills and hair was so thick that a blow on the back did +not trouble him much. If my friend could have hit him +across the nose it would have ended the matter then and +there, but the canoe was too narrow and its sides too high +for a crosswise stroke. He tried thrusting, but that was +no better. When a good-sized porcupine has really made +up his mind to go somewhere he may be slow, but it takes +more than a punch with the end of a stick to stop him; +and this Porky had fully determined to go aft and get +acquainted with the foreman.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs010.jpg" width="500" height="319" alt=""He quickly made his way to the beach."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"He quickly made his way to the beach."</span> +</div> + +<p>My friend couldn't even kick, for he was kneeling +on the bottom of the dug-out, with his feet behind +him, and if he tried to stand up he would probably +capsize.</p> + +<p>"Say, Hulbert, what am I going to do?"</p> + +<p>I didn't give him any advice, for my sympathies were +largely with the Porcupine. Besides, I hadn't any advice +to give. Just then the canoe drifted around so that +I could look into it, and I beheld the Porcupine bearing +down on my helpless friend like Birnam Wood on its way +to Dunsinane, his ruffle of quills erect, fire in his little +black eyes, and a thirst for vengeance in his whole aspect.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +My friend made one or two final and ineffectual jabs at +him, and then gave it up.</p> + +<p>"It's no use!" he called; "I'll have to tip over!" +and the next second the canoe was upside down and both +belligerents were in the water. The Porcupine floated +high—I suppose his hollow quills helped to keep him up—and +he proved a much better swimmer than I had expected, +for he quickly made his way to the beach and +disappeared in the woods, still chattering disrespectfully. +My friend waded ashore, righted his canoe, and we resumed +our journey. I don't think I'll tell you what he said. +He got over it after a while, and in the end he probably +enjoyed his joke more than if it had turned out as he +had intended.</p> + +<p>The summer followed the winter into the past, and the +Moon of Falling Leaves came round again. The Porcupine +was not alone. Another porky was with him, and +the two seemed very good friends. In fact, his companion +was the very same lady porcupine who had stood +by while he fought the battle of the log and the lily-pads, +though I do not suppose that they had been keeping +company all those months, and I am by no means certain +that they remembered that eventful morning at all. Let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +us hope they did, for the sake of the story. Who knows +how much or how little of love was stirring the slow +currents of their sluggish natures—of such love as binds +the dove or the eagle to his mate, or of such steadfast +affection as the Beaver and his wife seem to have felt for +each other? Not much, perhaps; yet they climbed the +same tree, ate from the same branch, and drank at the +same spring; and the next April there was another +arrival in the old hollow log—twins, this time, and both +of them alive.</p> + +<p>But the Porcupine never saw his children, for a +wandering fit seized him, and he left the Glimmerglass +before they were born. Two or three miles away was a +little clearing where a mossback lived. A railway crossed +one edge of it, between the hill and the swamp, and five +miles away was a junction, where locomotives were constantly +moving about, backing, hauling, and making up +their trains. As the mossback lay awake in the long, +quiet, windless winter nights, he often heard them puffing +and snorting, now with slow, heavy coughs, and now +quick and sharp and rapid. One night when he was half +asleep he heard something that said, "chew-chew-chew-chew-chew-chew," +like an engine that has its train moving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +and is just beginning to get up speed. At first he +paid no attention to it. But the noise suddenly stopped +short, and after a pause of a few seconds it began again +at exactly the same speed; stopped again, and began a +third time. And so it went on, chewing and pausing, +chewing and pausing, with always just so many chews to +the second, and just so many seconds to each rest. No +locomotive ever puffed like that. The mossback was +wide awake now, and he muttered something about "another +of those pesky porkies." He had killed the last +one that came around the house, and had wanted his +wife to cook it for dinner and see how it tasted, but she +wouldn't. She said that the very sight of it was enough +for her, and more than enough; and that it was all she +could do to eat pork and potatoes after looking at it.</p> + +<p>He turned over and tried to go to sleep again, but +without success. That steady "chew-chew-chew" was +enough to keep a woodchuck awake, and at last he got +up and went to the door. The moonlight on the snow +was almost as bright as day, and there was the Porcupine, +leaning against the side of the barn, and busily rasping +the wood from around the head of a rusty nail. The +mossback threw a stick of stove-wood at him, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +lumbered clumsily away across the snow. But twenty +minutes later he was back again, and this time he marched +straight into the open shed at the back of the house, and +began operations on a wash-tub, whose mingled flavor of +soap and humanity struck him as being very delicious. +Again the mossback appeared in the doorway, shivering a +little in his night-shirt.</p> + +<p>The Porcupine was at the foot of the steps. He had +stopped chewing when the door opened, and now he lifted +his forepaws and sat half-erect, his yellow teeth showing +between his parted lips, and his little eyes staring at the +lamp which the mossback carried. The quills slanted +back from all around his diminutive face, and even from +between his eyes—short at first, but growing longer toward +his shoulders and back. Long whitish bristles were +mingled with them, and the mossback could not help +thinking of a little old, old man, with hair that was +grizzly-gray, and a face that was half-stupid and half-sad +and wistful. He was not yet two years of age, but I +believe that a porcupine is born old. Some of the Indians +say that he is ashamed of his homely looks, and that +that is the reason why, by day, he walks so slowly, with +hanging head and downcast eyes; but at night, they say,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +when the friendly darkness hides his ugliness, he lifts his +head and runs like a dog. In spite of the hour and the +cheering influence of the wash-tub, our Porky seemed even +more low-spirited than usual. Perhaps the lamplight +had suddenly reminded him of his personal appearance. +At any rate he looked so lonesome and forlorn that the +mossback felt a little thrill of pity for him, and decided +not to kill him after all, but to drive him away again. +He started down the steps with his lamp in one hand and +a stick of wood in the other, and then—he never knew +how it happened, but in some way he stumbled and fell. +Never in all his life, not even when his wildest nightmare +came and sat on him in the wee, sma' hours, had he come +so near screaming out in terror as he did at that moment. +He thought he was going to sit down on the Porcupine. +Fortunately for both of them, but especially for the man, +he missed him by barely half an inch, and the Porky +scuttled away as fast as his legs could carry him.</p> + +<p>In spite of this unfriendly reception, the Porcupine +hung around the edges of the clearing for several months, +and enjoyed many a meal such as seldom falls to the lot +of the woods-people. One night he found an empty +pork-barrel out behind the barn, its staves fairly saturated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +with salt, and hour after hour he scraped away upon it, +perfectly content. Another time, to his great satisfaction, +he discovered a large piece of bacon rind among +some scraps that the mossback's wife had thrown away. +Later he invaded the sugar-bush by night, gnawing deep +notches in the edges of the sap buckets and barrels, and +helping himself to the sirup in the big boiling-pan.</p> + +<p>Life was not all feasting, however. There was a dog +who attacked him two or three times, but who finally +learned to keep away and mind his own business. Once, +when he had ventured a little too close to the house, and +was making an unusual racket with his teeth, the mossback +came to the door and fired a shotgun at him, cutting +off several of his quills. And still another night, late in the +spring, when he was prowling around the barn, a bull calf +came and smelled him. Next morning the mossback and +his boys threw that calf down on the ground and tied his +feet to a stump, and three of them sat on him while a +fourth pulled the quills from his nose with a pair of +pincers. You should have heard him grunt.</p> + +<p>Then came the greatest adventure of all. Down beside +the railway was a small platform on which supplies for +the lumber-camps were sometimes unloaded from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +trains. Brine and molasses and various other delectable +things had leaked out of the barrels and kegs and boxes, +and the Porcupine discovered that the planks were very +nicely seasoned and flavored. He visited them once too +often, for one summer evening, as he was gnawing away +at the site of an ancient puddle of molasses, the accommodation +train rolled in and came to a halt. He tried to +hide behind a stump, but the trainmen caught sight of him, +and before he knew it they had shoved him into an empty +box and hoisted him into the baggage-car. They turned +him loose among the passengers on the station platform +at Sault Ste. Marie, and his arrival created a sensation.</p> + +<p>When the first excitement had subsided, all the girls +in the crowd declared that they must have some quills for +souvenirs, and all the young men set to work to procure +them, hoping to distinguish themselves by proving their +superiority in strength and courage over this poor little +twenty-pound beast just out of the woods. Most of them +succeeded in getting some quills, and also in acquiring +some painful experience—especially the one who attempted +to lift the Porcupine by the tail, and who learned that +that interesting member is the very hottest and liveliest +portion of the animal's anatomy. They finally discovered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +that the best way to get quills from a live porcupine is +to hit him with a piece of board. The sharp points penetrate +the wood and stick there, the other ends come loose +from his skin, and there you have them. Our friend lost +most of his armor that day, and it was a good thing for +him that departed quills, like clipped hair, will renew +themselves in the course of time.</p> + +<p>One of the brakemen carried him home, and he spent +the next few months in the enjoyment of city life. +Whether he found much pleasure in it is, perhaps, a +question, but I am rather inclined to think that he did. +He had plenty to eat, and he learned that apples are very +good indeed, and that the best way to partake of them is +to sit up on your haunches and hold them between your +forepaws. He also learned that men are not always to +be regarded as enemies, for his owner and his owner's children +were good to him and soon won his confidence. But, +after all, the city was not home, and the woods were; so +he employed some of his spare time in gnawing a hole +through the wall in a dark corner of the shed where he +was confined, and one night he scrambled out and hid +himself in an empty barn. A day or two later he was in +the forest again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p> + +<p>The remaining years of his life were spent on the +banks of St. Mary's River, and for the most part they +were years of quietness and contentment. He was far +from his early home, but the bark of a birch or a maple +or a hemlock is much the same on St. Mary's as by the +Glimmerglass. He grew bigger and fatter as time went +on, and some weeks before he died he must have weighed +thirty or forty pounds.</p> + +<p>Once in a while there was a little dash of excitement +to keep life from becoming too monotonous—if too much +monotony is possible in a porcupine's existence. One +night he scrambled up the steps of a little summer cottage +close to the edge of the river, and, finding the door +unlatched, he pushed it open and walked in. It proved +to be a cottage full of girls, and they stood around on +chairs and the tops of wash-stands, bombarded him with +curling-irons, poked feebly with bed-slats, and shrieked +with laughter till the farmers over on the Canadian shore +turned in their beds and wondered what could be happening +on Uncle Sam's side of the river. The worst of +it was that in his travels around the room he had come +up behind the door and pushed it shut, and it was some +time before even the red-haired girl could muster up sufficient<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +courage to climb down from her perch and open it +again.</p> + +<p>At another time an Indian robbed him of the longest +and best of his quills—nearly five inches in length some +of them—and carried them off to be used in ornamenting +birch-bark baskets. And on still another occasion he +narrowly escaped death at the hands of an irate canoe-man, +in the side of whose Rob Roy he had gnawed a +great hole.</p> + +<p>The end came at last, and it was the saddest, hardest, +strangest fate that can ever come to a wild creature of +the woods. He—who had never known hunger in all his +life, who was almost the only animal in the forest who +had never looked famine in the eye, whose table was +spread with good things from January to December, and +whose storehouse was full from Lake Huron to the Pictured +Rocks—he of all others, was condemned to die of +starvation in the midst of plenty. The Ancient Mariner, +with water all around him and not a drop to drink, was +no worse off than our Porcupine; and the Mariner finally +escaped, but the Porky didn't.</p> + +<p>One of the summer tourists who wandered up into the +north woods that year had carried with him a little rifle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +more of a toy than a weapon, a thing that a sportsman +would hardly have condescended to laugh at. And one +afternoon, by ill luck, he caught sight of the Porcupine +high up in the top of a tall tree. It was his first chance +at a genuine wild beast, and he fired away all his cartridges +as fast as he could load them into his gun. He +thought that every shot missed, and he was very much +ashamed of his marksmanship. But he was mistaken. +The very last bullet broke one of the Porcupine's lower +front teeth, and hurt him terribly. It jarred him to the +very end of his tail, and his head felt as if it was being +smashed to bits. For a minute or two the strength all +went out of him, and if he had not been lying in a safe, +comfortable crotch he would have fallen to the ground.</p> + +<p>The pain and the shock passed away after a while, but +when supper-time came—and it was almost always supper-time +with the Porcupine—his left lower incisor was +missing. The right one was uninjured, however, and for +a while he got on pretty well, merely having to spend a +little more time than usual over his meals. But that was +only the beginning of trouble. The stump of the broken +tooth was still there and still growing, and it was soon as +long as ever, but in the meantime its fellow in the upper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +jaw had grown out beyond its normal length, and the +two did not meet properly. Instead of coming together +edge to edge, as they should have done, each wearing the +other down and keeping it from reaching out too far, +each one now pushed the other aside, and still they kept +on growing, growing, growing. Worst of all, in a short +time they had begun to crowd his jaws apart so that he +could hardly use his right-hand teeth, and they too were +soon out of shape. The evil days had come, and the +sound of the grinding was low. Little by little his +mouth was forced open wider and wider, and the food +that passed his lips grew less and less. His teeth, that +had all his life been his best tools and his most faithful +servants, had turned against him in his old age, and were +killing him by inches. Let us not linger over those days.</p> + +<p>He was spared the very last and worst pangs—for that, +at least, we may be thankful. On the last day of his life +he sat under a beech-tree, weak and weary and faint. +He could not remember when he had eaten. His coat of +hair and quills was as thick and bushy as ever, and outwardly +he had hardly changed at all, but under his skin +there was little left but bones. And as he sat there and +wished that he was dead—if such a wish can ever come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +to a wild animal—the Angel of Mercy came, in the shape +of a man with a revolver in his pistol pocket—a man +who liked to kill things.</p> + +<p>"A porky!" he said. "Guess I'll shoot him, just for +fun."</p> + +<p>The Porcupine saw him coming and knew the danger; +and for a moment the old love of life came back as strong +as ever, and he gathered his feeble strength for one last +effort, and started up the tree. He was perhaps six feet +from the ground when the first report came.</p> + +<p>"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!" Four shots, as fast +as the self-cocking revolver could pour the lead into his +body. The Porky stopped climbing. For an instant he +hung motionless on the side of the tree, and then his +forepaws let go, and he swayed backward and fell to the +ground. And that was the end of the Porcupine.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE ADVENTURES OF A LOON</h2> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<div class='cap'>HIS name was Mahng, and the story which I am about +to relate is the story of his matrimonial career—or at least +of a portion of it.</div> + +<p>One snowy autumn night, three years ago, he was swimming +on the Glimmerglass in company with his first wife—one +of the first, that is. There may possibly have +been others before her, but if so I wasn't acquainted +with them. It was a fine evening—especially for loons. +There was no wind, and the big, soft flakes came floating +lazily down to lose themselves in the quiet lake. The +sky, the woods, and the shores were all blotted out; +and the loons reigned alone, king and queen of a dim +little world of leaden water and falling snow. And right +royally they swam their kingdom, with an air as if they +thought God had made the Glimmerglass for their especial +benefit. Perhaps He had.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 296px;"> +<img src="images/gs011.jpg" width="296" height="450" alt=""He went under as simply as you would step out of bed."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"He went under as simply as you would step out of bed."</span> +</div> + +<p>It was very, very lonely, but they liked it all the better +for that. At times they even lost sight of each other +for a little while, as one dived in search of a herring or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +a young salmon trout. I wish we could have followed +Mahng down under the water and watched him at his +hunting. He didn't dive as you do, with a jump and a +plunge and a splash. He merely drew his head back a +little and then thrust it forward and downward, and +went under as simply and easily as you would step out of +bed, and with a good deal more dignity. It was his feet +that did it, of course. They were not good for much for +walking, but they were the real thing when it came to +swimming or diving. They were large and broad and +strongly webbed, and the short stout legs which carried +them were flattened and compressed that they might slip +edgewise through the water, like a feathered oar-blade. +The muscles which worked them were very powerful, and +they kicked backward with so much vigor that two little +jets of spray were often tossed up in his wake as he went +under, like the splash from a steamer's paddles. And he +had a rudder, too, for in the after part of his body there +were two muscles just like tiller-ropes, fastened to his tail +in such a way that they could twist it to either side, and +steer him to port or starboard as occasion demanded. +With his long neck stretched far out in front, his wings +pressed tightly against his sides, and his legs and feet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +working as if they went by steam, he shot through the +water like a submarine torpedo-boat. "The Herdsman +of the Deep," the Scottish Highlanders used to say, when +in winter a loon came to visit their lochs and fiords. +Swift and strong and terrible, he ranged the depths of +the Glimmerglass, seeking what he might devour; and +perhaps you can imagine how hastily the poor little fishes +took their departure whenever they saw him coming their +way. Sometimes they were not quite quick enough, and +then his long bill closed upon them, and he swallowed +them whole without even waiting to rise to the surface.</p> + +<p>The chase thus brought to a successful conclusion, or +perhaps the supply of air in his lungs giving out, he returned +to the upper world, and again his voice rang out +through the darkness and the falling snow. Then his +wife would answer him from somewhere away off across +the lake, and they would call back and forth to each +other with many a laugh and shout, or, drawing closer +and closer together, they would cruise the Glimmerglass +side by side, with the big flakes dropping gently on their +backs and folded wings, and the ripples spreading out on +either hand like the swell from the bow of a ship.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + +<p>Once Mahng stayed down a little longer than usual, +and when he came up he heard his wife calling him in an +excited tone, as if something had happened to her. He +hurried toward her, and presently he saw a light shining +dimly through the throng of moving snow-flakes, +and growing brighter and brighter as he approached +until it was fairly dazzling. As he drew nearer still he +caught sight of his wife sitting on the water squarely in +front of that light, and watching it with all her eyes. +She was not calling now. She had forgotten Mahng, +she had forgotten to paddle, she had forgotten everything, +in her wonder at this strange, beautiful thing, the like of +which had never before been seen upon the Glimmerglass. +She herself was a rarely beautiful sight—if she had only +known it—with the dark water rippling gently against +her bosom, her big black head thrust forward, and the +feathers of her throat and breast glistening in the glare +of the headlight, white as the snow that was falling +around her.</p> + +<p>All this Mahng saw. What he did not see, because +his eyes were dazzled, was a boat in the shadow behind +the light, and a rifle-barrel pointing straight at his wife's +breast. There was a blinding flash, a sharp, crashing report,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +and a cloud of smoke; and Mahng dived as quick +as a wink. But his wife would never dive again. The +bullet had gone tearing through her body, and she lay +stretched out on the water, perfectly motionless, and apparently +dead. And then, just as Mahng came to the +surface a hundred yards away, and just as my partner +put out his hand to pick her up, she lifted her head and +gave a last wild cry. Mahng heard it and answered, but +he was too far away to see what happened. He dared +not return till the light had disappeared, and by that +time she was gone. She had straggled violently for a +moment, and had struck savagely at the hunter's hand, +and then she had as suddenly collapsed, the water turned +red, and her eyes closed forever. Did you know that +among all God's creatures the birds are the only ones +whose eyes close naturally in death? Even among men +it is not so, for when our friends die we lay our hands +reverently upon their faces, and weight their stiff lids +with gold. But for the bird, Nature herself performs the +last kindly office, and as the light fades out from the +empty windows of the soul, the curtain falls of its own +accord.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 292px;"> +<img src="images/gs012.jpg" width="292" height="450" alt=""She herself was a rarely beautiful sight."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"She herself was a rarely beautiful sight."</span> +</div> + +<p>During the next two or three days Mahng's voice was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +frequently to be heard, apparently calling his wife. +Sometimes it was a mournful, long-drawn cry—"Hoo-WOOOO-ooo"—that +might have been heard a mile away—a +cry that seemed the very essence of loneliness, and +that went right down where you lived and made you feel +like a murderer. And sometimes he broke into a wild +peal of laughter, as if he hoped that that might better +serve to call her back to him.</p> + +<p>His children had gone south some time before. They +had seemed anxious to see the world. Perhaps, too, they +had dreaded the approach of colder weather more than the +older birds, who had become somewhat seasoned by previous +autumns. Anyhow, they had taken the long trail +toward the Gulf of Mexico, and now that his wife was +gone Mahng was entirely alone. At last he seemed to +make up his mind that he might as well follow them, and +one afternoon, as he was swimming aimlessly about, I saw +him suddenly dash forward, working his wings with all +their might, beating the water at every stroke, and +throwing spray like a side-wheeler. Slowly—for his +body was heavy, and his wings were rather small for his +size—slowly he lifted himself from the water, all the time +rushing forward faster and faster. He couldn't have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +made it if he hadn't had plenty of sea-room, but by +swinging round and round in long, wide circles he managed +to rise little by little till at last he was clear of the +tree-tops. He passed right over my head as he stood +away to the south—his long neck stretched far out in +front, his feet pointing straight back beyond the end of +his short tail, and his wings beating the air with tremendous +energy. How they did whizz! He made almost +as much noise as a train of cars. He laughed as he went +by, and you would have said that he was in high spirits; +but before he disappeared that lonely, long-drawn cry +came back once more—"Hoo-WOOOO-ooo."</p> + +<p>In the course of his winter wanderings through the +South he happened to alight one day on a certain wild +pond down in Mississippi, and there he found another +loon—a widow whose former husband had lost his life +the previous summer under rather peculiar circumstances.</p> + +<p>Beside a small lake in Minnesota there lives an old +Dutchman who catches fish with empty bottles. On any +calm, still day you may see a lot of them floating upright +in the water, all tightly corked, and each with the end of +a fishing-line tied around its neck. They seem very +decorous and well-behaved, but let a fish take one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +the hooks and begin to pull, and immediately that particular +bottle turns wrong end up, and acts as if it had +taken a drop too much of its own original contents. +Then the Dutchman paddles out in his little scow, and +perhaps by the time he has hauled in his fish and re-baited +the hook another bottle is excitedly standing on +its head. But never before nor since have any of them +behaved as wildly as the one that a loon got hold of.</p> + +<p>The loon—not Mahng, you understand, but the first +husband of his new acquaintance—had dived in search of +his dinner, and the first thing he saw that looked as if it +might be good to eat was the bait on one of the Dutchman's +hooks. He swallowed it, of course, and for the +next five minutes he went charging up and down that +pond at a great rate, followed by a green glass monster +with the name of a millionnaire brewer blown in its side. +Sometimes he was on the surface, and sometimes he was +under it; but wherever he went that horrible thing was +close behind him, pulling so hard that the sharp cord cut +the corners of his mouth till it bled. Once or twice he +tried to fly, but the line caught his wing and brought +him down again. When he dived, it tangled itself around +his legs and clogged the machinery; and when he tried to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +shout, the hook in his throat would not let him do anything +more than cough. The Dutchman got him at last, +and eventually Mahng got his widow, as you shall see.</p> + +<p>She had her children to take care of, and for a time +she was very busy, but after a few weeks they flew away +to the south, as Mahng's had done, and she was free to +go where she liked and do what she pleased. For a while +she stayed where she was, like a sensible person. Minnesota +suited her very well, and she was in no hurry to +leave. But, of course, she could not stay on indefinitely, +for some frosty night the lake would freeze over, and then +she could neither dive for fish nor rise upon the wing. A +loon on ice is about as helpless as an oyster. And so at +last she, too, went south. She travelled by easy stages, +and had a pleasant journey, with many a stop, and many +a feast in the lakes and rivers along the route. I should +like to know, just out of curiosity, how many fish found +their way down her capacious gullet during that pilgrimage +through Illinois and Kentucky and Tennessee.</p> + +<p>Well, no matter about that. The Mississippi pond +was in sight, and she was just slanting down toward the +water, when a hunter fired at her from behind a clump of +trees. His aim was all too true, and she fell headlong to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +the ground, with a broken wing dangling helplessly at +her side.</p> + +<p>Now, as you probably know, a loon isn't built for running. +There is an old story, one which certainly has the +appearance of truth, to the effect that when Nature manufactured +the first of these birds she forgot to give him +any legs at all, and that he had started off on the wing +before she noticed her mistake. Then she picked up the +first pair that came to hand and threw them after him. +Unfortunately they were a misfit, and, what was, perhaps, +still worse, they struck his body in the wrong place. +They were so very short and so very far aft that, although +he could stand nearly as straight as a man, it was almost +impossible for him to move about on them. When he +had to travel on land, which he always avoided as far as +he could, he generally shoved himself along on his breast, +and often used his wings and his bill to help himself forward. +All his descendants are just like him, so you can +see that the widow's chances were pretty small, with the +hunter bursting out of the bushes, and a broad strip of +beach between her and the friendly pond.</p> + +<p>But she was a person of resource and energy, and in +this great emergency she literally rose to the occasion,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +and did something that she had never done before in all +her life, and probably will never do again. The astonished +hunter saw her lift herself until she stood nearly +upright, and then actually <i>run</i> across the beach toward +the water. She was leaning forward a trifle, her long +neck was stretched out, her two short legs were trotting +as fast as they could go, and her one good wing was wildly +waving in a frantic endeavor to get on. It was a sight +that very few people have ever seen, and it would have +been comical if it hadn't been a matter of life and death. +The hunter was hard after her, and his legs were a yard +long, while hers were only a few inches, so it was not surprising +that he caught her just as she reached the margin. +She wriggled out of his grasp and dashed on through the +shallow water, and he followed close behind. In a moment +he stooped and made another grab at her, and this +time he got his arms around her body and pinned her +wings down against her sides. But he had waded out a +little too far, and had reached the place where the bottom +suddenly shelves off from fifteen inches to seventy-two. +His foot slipped, and in another moment he +was splashing wildly about in the water, and the loon +was free.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>A broken wing is not necessarily as serious a matter as +you might suppose. The cold water kept the inflammation +down, and it seemed as if all the vital forces of her +strong, healthy body set to work at once to repair the +damage. If any comparative anatomist ever gets hold of +the widow and dissects her, he will find a curious swelling +in the principal bone of her left wing, like a plumber's +join in a lead pipe, and he will know what it means. It +is the place where Nature soldered the broken pieces together. +And it was while Nature was engaged in this +soldering operation that Mahng arrived and began to +cultivate the widow's acquaintance.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>In the spring a fuller crimson</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;"><i>comes upon the robin's breast</i>,"</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>and in the spring the loon puts on his wedding-garment, +and his fancy, like the young man's, "lightly turns to +thoughts of love."</div> + +<p>But speaking of Mahng's wedding-garment reminds me +that I haven't told you about his winter dress. His back +and wings were very dark-brown, and his breast and under-parts +were white. His head and the upper portion of his +neck were black; his bill was black, or blackish, and so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +were his feet. His coat was very thick and warm, and +his legs were feathered right down to the heel-joint. +More than five feet his wings stretched from tip to tip, +and he weighed at least twelve pounds, and would be +still larger before he died.</p> + +<p>As to his nuptial finery, its groundwork was much +the same, but its trimmings were different and were very +elegant. White spots appeared all over his back and the +upper surfaces of his wings, some of them round, and +some square. They were not thrown on carelessly, but +were arranged in gracefully curving lines, and they quite +changed his appearance, especially if one were as near +him as one is supposed to be during a courting. His +spring neckwear, too, was in exceedingly good taste, for +he put on a sort of collar of very narrow vertical stripes, +contrasting beautifully with the black around and between +them. Higher up on his neck and head the deep +black feathers gleamed and shone in the sunlight with +brilliant irridescent tints of green and violet. He was a +very handsome bird.</p> + +<p>And now everything was going north. The sun was +going north, the wind was going north, the birds were +going, and summer herself was sweeping up from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +tropics as fast as ever she could travel. Mahng was getting +very restless. A dozen times a day he would spread +his wings and beat the air furiously, dashing the spray in +every direction, and almost lifting his heavy body out of +the water. But the time was not yet come, and presently +he would fold his pinions and go back to his courting.</p> + +<p>Do you think he was very inconstant? Do you blame +him for not being more faithful to the memory of the +bird who was shot at his side only a few months before? +Don't be too hard on him. What can a loon do when +the springtime calls and the wind blows fresh and strong, +when the new strong wine of life is coursing madly +through his veins, and when his dreams are all of the +vernal flight to the lonely northland, where the water is +cold and the fish are good, and where there are such delightful +nesting-places around the marshy ponds?</p> + +<p>But how did his new friend feel about it? Would she +go with him? Ah! Wouldn't she? Had not she, too, +put on a wedding-garment just like his? And what was +she there for, anyhow, if not to be wooed, and to find a +mate, and to fly away with him a thousand miles to the +north, and there, beside some lonely little lake, brood +over her eggs and her young? Her wing was gaining<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +strength all the time, and at last she was ready. You +should have heard them laugh when the great day came +and they pulled out for Michigan—Mahng a little in the +lead, as became the larger and stronger, and his new wife +close behind. There had been nearly a week of cooler +weather just before the start, which had delayed them +a little, but now the south wind was blowing again, and +over and over it seemed to say,</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"<i>And we go, go, go away from here!</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;"><i>On the other side the world we're overdue!</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>'Send the road lies clear before you</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;"><i>When the old Spring-fret comes o'er you,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: .5em;"><i>And the Red Gods call for you.</i>"</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>And the road was clear, and they went. Up, and up, +and up; higher and higher, till straight ahead, stretching +away to the very edge of the world, lay league after +league of sunshine and air, only waiting the stroke of +their wings. Now steady, steady! Beat, beat, beat! +And the old earth sliding southward fifty miles an hour! +No soaring—their wings were too short for that sort of +work—and no quick wheeling to right or left, but hurtling +on with whizzing pinions and eager eyes, straight +toward the goal. Was it any wonder that they were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +happy, and that joyful shouts and wild peals of laughter +came ringing down from the sky to tell us poor earthbound +men and women that somewhere up in the blue, +beyond the reach of our short-sighted eyes, the loons +were hurrying home?</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs013.jpg" width="500" height="331" alt=""The old earth sliding southward fifty miles an hour."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"The old earth sliding southward fifty miles an hour."</span> +</div> + +<p>Over the fresh fields, green with the young wheat; +over the winding rivers and the smiling lakes; over the—shut +your eyes, and dream a little while, and see if you +can imagine what it was like. Does it make you wish +you were a loon yourself? Never mind; some day, perhaps, +we too shall take our wedding-journeys in the air; +not on feathered pinions, but with throbbing engines and +whizzing wheels, and with all the power of steam or +electricity to lift us and bear us onward. We shall skim +the prairies and leap the mountains, and roam over the +ocean like the wandering albatross. To-day we shall +breathe the warm, spicy breath of the tropic islands, and +to-morrow we shall sight the white gleam of the polar +ice-pack. When the storm gathers we shall mount above +it, and looking down we shall see the lightning leap from +cloud to cloud, and the rattling thunder will come upward, +not downward, to our ears. When the world below +is steeped in the shadows of coming night, we shall still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +watch the sunset trailing its glories over the western +woods and mountains; and when morning breaks we +shall be the first to welcome the sunrise as it comes rushing +up from the east a thousand miles an hour. The +wind of the upper heavens will be pure and keen and +strong, and not even a sleigh-ride on a winter's night can +set the live blood dancing as it will dance and tingle up +there above the clouds. And riding on the air, alone +with the roaring engines that have become for the time +a part of ourselves, we shall know at last what our earth +is really like, for we shall see it as the loons see it—yes, +as God and His angels see it—this old earth, on which +we have lived for so many thousand years, and yet have +never seen.</p> + +<p>But, after all, the upper heavens will not be home; +and some day, as we shoot northward, or southward, or +eastward, or westward, we shall see beneath us the spot +that is to be for us the best and dearest place in all the +world, and dropping down out of the blue we shall find +something that is even better than riding on the wings of +the wind. That was what happened to Mahng and his +wife, for one spring evening, as they came rushing over +the pine-tops and the maples and birches, they saw the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +Glimmerglass just ahead. The water lay like polished +steel in the fading light, and the brown ranks of the still +leafless trees stood dark and silent around the shores. It +was very quiet, and very, very lonely; and the lake and +the woods seemed waiting and watching for something. +And into that stillness and silence the loons came with +shouting and laughter, sweeping down on a long slant, +and hitting the water with a splash. The echoes awoke +and the Glimmerglass was alive, and summer had come +to the northland.</p> + +<p>They chose a place where the shore was low and +marshy, and there, only two or three yards from the +water's edge, they built a rude nest of grass and weeds +and lily-pads. Two large greenish eggs, blotched with +dark-brown, lay in its hollow; and the wife sat upon +them week after week, and covered them with the warm +feathers of her broad, white breast. Once in a while she +left them long enough to stretch her wings in a short +flight, or to dive in search of a fish, but she was never +gone very long. It was a weary vigil that she kept, but +she sat there in daylight and darkness, through sunshine +and storm, till at last the day came when there were four +loons instead of two at the Glimmerglass.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>The chicks were very smart and active, and they took +to the water almost as soon as they were out of the shell, +swimming and diving as if they had been accustomed to +it for weeks instead of hours. In some ways, however, +they required a good deal of care. For one thing, their +little stomachs were not quite equal to the task of assimilating +raw fish, and the parents had to swallow all their +food for them, keep it down till it was partly digested, +and then pass it up again to the hungry children. It +made a good deal of delay, and it must have been very +unpleasant, but it seemed to be the only practicable way +of dealing with the situation. I am glad to say that it +did not last very long, for by the time they were two +weeks old the young loons were able to take their fish +and reptiles and insects at first hand.</p> + +<p>When they first arrived the chicks were covered all +over with stiff down, of a dark, sooty gray on their +backs, and white underneath. But this did not last long, +either. The first feathers soon appeared, and multiplied +rapidly. I can't say that the young birds were particularly +handsome, for even when their plumage was complete +it was much quieter and duller of hue than their parents'. +But they were fat and plump, and I think they thoroughly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +enjoyed life, especially before they discovered that +there were enemies as well as friends in the world. That +was a kind of knowledge that could not be avoided very +long, however. They soon learned that men, and certain +other animals such as hawks and skunks, were to be carefully +shunned; and you should have seen them run on +the water whenever a suspicious-looking character hove in +sight. Their wings were not yet large enough for flying, +but they flapped them with all their might, and scampered +across the Glimmerglass so fast that their little legs fairly +twinkled, and they actually left a furrow in the water +behind them. But the bottom of the lake was really the +safest refuge, and if a boat or a canoe pressed them too +closely they would usually dive below the surface, while +the older birds tried to lure the enemy off in some other +direction by calling and shouting and making all sorts of +demonstrations.</p> + +<p>Generally these tactics were successful, but not always. +Once some boys cornered the whole family in a small, +shallow bay, where the water was not deep enough for +diving; and before they could escape one of the youngsters +was driven up onto the beach. He tried to hide +behind a log, but he was captured and earned off, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +wish I had time to tell you of all the things that happened +to him before he was finally killed and eaten by a +dog. It was pretty tough on the old birds, as well as on +him, but they still had one chick left, and you can't expect +to raise <i>all</i> your children as long as bigger people +are so fond of kidnapping and killing them.</p> + +<p>Not all the people who came to see them were bent on +mischief, however. There was a party of girls and boys, +for instance, who camped beside the Glimmerglass for a +few weeks, and who liked to follow them around the lake +in a row-boat and imitate their voices, just for the fun of +making them talk back. One girl in particular became +so accomplished in the loon language that Mahng would +often get very much excited as he conversed with her, and +would sometimes let the boat creep nearer and nearer +until they were only a few rods apart. And then, all of +a sudden, he would duck his head and go under, perhaps +in the very middle of a laugh. The siren was getting +a little too close. Her intentions might possibly be all +right, but it was just as well to be on the safe side.</p> + +<p>The summer was nearly gone, and now Mahng did +something which I fear you will strongly disapprove. I +didn't want to tell you about it, but I suppose I must.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +Two or three male loons passed over the Glimmerglass +one afternoon, calling and shouting as they went, and he +flew up and joined them, and came back no more that +summer. It looked like a clear case of desertion, but we +must remember that he had stood by his wife all through +the trying period of the spring and early summer, and +that the time was at hand when the one chick that was +left would go out into the world to paddle his own canoe, +and when she would no longer need his help in caring for +a family of young children. But you think he might +have stayed with her, anyhow? Well, so do I; I'm sorry +he didn't. They say that his cousins, the Red-throated +Loons, marry for life, and live together from the wedding-day +till death, and I don't see why he couldn't have done +as well as they. But it doesn't seem to be the custom +among the Great Northern Divers. Mahng was only +following the usual practice of his kind, and if his first +wife had not been shot it is likely that they would have +separated before they had gone very far south. And yet +it does not follow that the marriage was not a love-match. +If you had seen them at their housekeeping I +think you would have pronounced him a very good husband +and father. Perhaps the conjugal happiness of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +spring and early summer was all the better for a taste of +solitude during the rest of the year.</p> + +<p>As I said, the time was near when the chick would +strike out for himself. He soon left his mother, and a +little later she too started for the Gulf of Mexico. +Summer was over, and the Glimmerglass was lonelier +than ever.</p> + +<p>Mahng came back next spring, and of course he +brought a wife with him. But was she the same wife +who had helped him make the Glimmerglass ring with his +shouting twelve months before? Well, I—I don't quite +know. She looked very much like her, and I certainly +hope she was the same bird. I should like to believe +that they had been reunited somewhere down in Texas +or Mississippi or Louisiana, and that they had come back +together for another season of parental cares and joys. +But when I consider the difficulties in the way I cannot +help feeling doubtful about it. The two birds had gone +south at different times and perhaps by different routes. +Before they reached the lower Mississippi Valley they +may have been hundreds of miles apart. Was it to be +reasonably expected that Mahng, when he was ready to +return, would search every pond and stream from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +Cumberland to the Gulf? And is it likely that, even +if he had tried for weeks and weeks, he could ever have +found his wife of the previous summer? His flight was +swift and his sight keen, and his clarion voice rang far +and wide over the marshes; but it is no joke to find +one particular bird in a region covering half a dozen +States. If they had arranged to come north separately, +and meet at the Glimmerglass, there would not have been +so many difficulties in the way, but they didn't do that. +Anyhow, Mahng brought a wife home. That much, at +least, is established. They set to work at once to build +a nest and make ready for some new babies; but, alas! +there was little parental happiness or responsibility in +store for them that year.</p> + +<p>If you had been there you might have seen them swimming +out from shore one bright, beautiful spring morning, +when the sun had just risen, and the woods and waters +lay calm and peaceful in the golden light, fairer than +words can tell. They were after their breakfast, and +presently they dived to see what was to be had. The +light is dim down there in the depths of the Glimmerglass, +the weeds are long and slimy, and the mud of the +bottom is black and loathsome. But what does that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +matter? One can go back whenever one pleases. A few +quick, powerful strokes will take you up into the open +air, and you can see the woods and the sky. Aha! +There is a herring, his scales shining like silver in the +faint green light that comes down through the water. +And there is a small salmon trout, with his gray-brown +back and his golden sides. A fish for each of us.</p> + +<p>The loons darted forward at full speed; but the two +fish made no effort to escape, and did not even wriggle +when the long, sharp bills closed upon them. They were +dead, choked to death by the fine threads of a gill-net. +And now those same threads laid hold of the loons themselves, +and a fearful struggle began.</p> + +<p>Mahng and his wife did not always keep their wings +folded when they were under water. Sometimes they +used them almost as they did in flying, and just now they +had need of every muscle in their bodies. How their +pinions lashed the water, and how their legs kicked and +their long necks writhed, and how the soft mud rose in +clouds and shut out the dim light! But the harder they +fought the more tightly did the net grapple them, winding +itself round and round their bodies, and soon lashing +their wings down against their sides. Expert divers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +though they were, the loons were drowning. There was +a ringing in their ears and a roaring in their heads, and +the very last atoms of oxygen in their lungs were almost +gone. Death was drawing very near, and the bright, +sunshiny world where they had been so happy a moment +before, the world to which they had thought they could +return so quickly and easily, seemed a thousand miles +away. One last effort, one final struggle, and if that +failed there would be nothing more to do but go to sleep +forever.</p> + +<p>Fortunately for Mahng, his part of the net had been +mildewed, and much of the strength had gone out of the +linen threads. He was writhing and twisting with all his +might, and suddenly he felt something give. One of the +rotten meshes had torn apart. He worked with redoubled +energy, and in a moment another thread gave way, and +then another, and another. A second more and he was +free. Quick, now, before the last spark goes out! With +beating wings and churning paddles he fairly flew up +through the green water toward the light, and on a sudden +he shot out into the air, panting and gasping, and staring +wildly around at the blue sky, and the quiet woods, +and the smiling Glimmerglass. And how royally beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +was the sunshine, and how sweet was the breath +of life!</p> + +<p>But his mate was not with him, and a few hours later +the fisherman found in his net the lifeless body of a +drowned loon.</p> + +<p>Mahng went north. He had thought that his spring +flight was over and that he would go no farther, but now +the Glimmerglass was no longer home, and he spread his +wings once more and took his way toward the Arctic +Circle. Over the hills, crowded with maple and beech +and birch; over the Great Tahquamenon Swamp, with +its cranberry marshes, its tangles of spruce and cedar, and +its thin, scattered ranks of tamarack; over the sandy +ridges where the pine-trees stand tall and stately, and out +on Lake Superior. The water was blue, and the sunshine +was bright; the wind was fresh and cool, and the billows +rolled and tumbled as if they were alive and were having +a good time together. Together—that's the word. +They were together, but Mahng was alone; and he wasn't +having a good time at all. He wanted a home, and a +nest, and some young ones, but he didn't find them that +year, though he went clear to Hudson Bay, and looked +everywhere for a mate. There were loons, plenty of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +them, but they had already paired and set up housekeeping, +and he found no one who was in a position to halve +his sorrows and double his joys.</p> + +<p>Something attracted his attention one afternoon when +he was swimming on a little lake far up in the Canadian +wilderness—a small red object that kept appearing and +disappearing in a very mysterious fashion among the +bushes that lined the beach. Mahng's bump of curiosity +was large and well developed, and he gave one of his best +laughs and paddled slowly in toward the shore. I think +he had a faint and utterly unreasonable hope that it might +prove to be what he was looking and longing for, though +he knew very well that no female loon of his species ever +had red feathers—nor a male, either, for that matter. It +was a most absurd idea, and his dreams, if he really had +them, were cut short by the report of a shotgun. A little +cloud of smoke floated up through the bushes, and a +charge of heavy shot peppered the water all around him. +But if Mahng was curious he was also quick to take a +hint. He had heard the click of the gun-lock, and before +the leaden hail could reach him he was under water. +His tail feathers suffered a little, but otherwise he was +uninjured, and he did not come to the surface again<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +till he was far away from that deceitful red handkerchief.</p> + +<p>The summer was an entire failure, and after a while +Mahng gave it up in despair, and started south much +earlier than usual. At the Straits of Mackinac he had +another narrow escape, for he came very near killing himself +by dashing head first against the lantern of a lighthouse, +whose brilliant beams, a thousand times brighter +than the light which had lured his first wife to her death, +had first attracted and then dazzled and dazed him. +Fortunately he swerved a trifle at the last moment, and +though he brushed against an iron railing, lost his balance, +and fell into the water, there were no bones broken +and no serious damage done.</p> + +<p>The southland, as everybody knows, is the only proper +place for a loon courtship. There, I am pleased to say, +Mahng found a new wife, and in due time he brought her +up to the Glimmerglass. That was only last spring, +and there is but one more incident for me to relate. +This summer has been a happy and prosperous one, but +there was a time when it seemed likely to end in disaster +before it had fairly begun.</p> + +<p>Just northeast of the Glimmerglass there lies a long,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +narrow, shallow pond. I believe I mentioned it when I +was telling you about the Beaver. One afternoon Mahng +had flown across to this pond, and as he was swimming +along close to the shore he put his foot into a beaver-trap, +and sprung it. Of course he did his best to get +away, but the only result of his struggling was to work +the trap out into deeper and deeper water until he was +almost submerged. He made things almost boil with the +fierce beating of his wings, but it was no use; he might +better have saved his strength. He quieted down at last +and lay very still, with only his head and neck out of +water, and there he waited two mortal hours for something +to happen.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile his wife sat quietly on her eggs—there were +three of them this year—and drowsed away the warm +spring afternoon. By and by she heard a tramping as of +heavy feet approaching, and glancing between the tall +grasses she saw, not a bear nor a deer, but something far +worse—a man. She waited till he was within a few +yards, and then she jumped up, scuttled down to the +water as fast as she could go, and dived as if she was +made of lead. The trapper glanced after her with a +chuckle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Seems pretty badly scared," he said to himself, but +his voice was not unkindly. His smile faded as he stood +a moment beside the nest, looking at the eggs, and thinking +of what would some day come forth from them. He +was a solitary old fellow, with never a wife nor a child, +nor a relation of any kind. His life in the woods was +just what he had chosen for himself, and he would not +have exchanged it for anything else in the world; but +sometimes the loneliness of it came over him, and he +wished that he had somebody to talk to. And now, +looking at those eggs, and thinking of the fledglings that +were coming to the loons, he wondered how it would seem +if he had some children of his own. Pretty soon he +glanced out on the lake again, and saw Mahng's wife +sitting quietly on the water, just out of range.</p> + +<p>"Hope she won't stay away till they get cold," he +thought, and went on his way across the swamp. The +loon watched him till he passed out of sight, and then +she swam in to the beach and pushed herself up her +narrow runway to her old place. The eggs were still +warm.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the trapper stepped out of the +bushes beside the pond, and caught sight of Mahng's head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +sticking out of the water. He was considerably astonished, +but he promptly laid hold of the chain and drew +bird, trap, and all up onto the bank, and then he sat +down on a log and laughed till the echoes went flying +back and forth across the pond. Plastered with mud, +dripping wet, and with his left leg fast in the big steel +killing-machine, Mahng was certainly a comical sight. +All the fight was soaked out of him, and he lay prone +upon the ground and waited for the trapper to do what he +pleased. But the trapper did nothing—only sat on his +log, and presently forgot to laugh. He was thinking of +the sitting loon whom he had disturbed a little while before. +This was probably her mate, and again there came +over him a vague feeling that life had been very good to +these birds, and had given them something which he, the +man, had missed. He was growing old. A few more +seasons and there would be one trapper less in the Great +Tahquamenon Swamp; and he would die without—well, +what was the use of talking or thinking about it? But +the loons would hatch their young, and care for them and +protect them until they were ready to go out into the +world, and then they would send them away to the south. +A few weeks later they would follow, and next spring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +they would come back and do it all over again. That is—they +would if he didn't kill them.</p> + +<p>He rose from his log, smiling again at the abject look +with which Mahng watched him, and putting one foot on +each of the two heavy steel springs, he threw his weight +upon them and crushed them down. Mahng felt the +jaws relax, and suddenly he knew that he was free. The +strength came back with a rush to his weary limbs, and +he sprang up, scrambled down the bank and into the +water, and was gone. A few minutes later he reappeared +far down the pond, and rising on the wing he flew away +with a laugh toward the Glimmerglass.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE MAKING OF A GLIMMERGLASS BUCK</h2> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<div class='cap'>I DON'T know that he was a record-breaker, but he +was certainly much larger and more powerful than the +average buck, and he was decidedly good-looking, even for +a deer. There were one or two slight blemishes—to be +described later—in his physical make-up; but they were +not very serious, and except for them he was very handsome +and well-formed. I can't give you the whole story +of his life, for that would take several books, but I shall +try to tell you how he became the biggest buck and the +best fighter of his day and generation in the woods around +the Glimmerglass. He was unusually favored by Providence, +for besides being so large and strong he was given +a weapon such as very few full-grown Michigan bucks +have ever possessed.</div> + +<p>He had a good start in life, and it is really no wonder +that he distanced all his relations. In the first place, he +arrived in the woods a little earlier in the year than deer +babies usually do. This was important, for it lengthened +his first summer, and gave more opportunity for growth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +before the return of cold weather. If the winter had +lingered, or if there had been late frosts or snow-storms, +his early advent might have been anything but a blessing; +but the spring proved a mild one, and there was plenty of +good growing weather for fawns. Then, too, his mother +as in the very prime of life, and for the time being he +was her only child. If there had been twins, as there +were the year before, he would, of course, have had to +share her milk with a brother or sister; but as it was +he enjoyed all the benefits of a natural monopoly, and he +grew and prospered accordingly, and was a baby to be +proud of.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs014.jpg" width="500" height="403" alt=""He was a baby to be proud of."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"He was a baby to be proud of."</span> +</div> + +<p>And his mother took good care of him, and never tried +to show him off before the other people of the woods. +She knew that it was far safer and wiser to keep him concealed +as long as possible, and not let anyone know that +she had him. So instead of letting him wander with her +through the woods when she went in search of food, she +generally left him hidden in a thicket or behind a bush or +a fallen tree. There he spent many a long, lonely hour, +idly watching the waving branches and the moving shadows, +and perhaps thinking dim, formless, wordless baby +thoughts, or looking at nothing and thinking of nothing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +but just sleeping the quiet sleep of infancy, and living, +and growing, and getting ready for hard times.</p> + +<p>At first the Fawn knew no difference between friends +and enemies, but the instinct of the hunted soon awoke +and told him when to be afraid. If a hostile animal came +by while the doe was gone, he would crouch low, with his +nose to the ground and his big ears laid back on his neck; +or if pressed too closely he would jump up and hurry away +to some better cover, with leaps and bounds so light and +airy that they seemed the very music of motion. But +that did not happen very often. His hiding-places were +well chosen, and he usually lay still till his mother came +back.</p> + +<p>When she thought he was large enough, and strong +and swift enough, she let him travel with her; and then +he became acquainted with several new kinds of forest—with +the dark hemlock groves, and the dense cedar swamps; +with the open tamarack, where the trees stand wide apart, +and between them the great purple-and-white lady's-slippers +bloom; with the cranberry marshes, where pitcher-plants +live, and white-plumed grasses nod in the breeze; +with sandy ridges where the pine-trees purr with pleasure +when the wind strokes them; with the broad, beautiful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +Glimmerglass, laughing and shimmering in the sunshine, +and with all the sights and the sounds of that wonderful +world where he was to spend the years of his deerhood.</p> + +<p>They were a very silent pair. When his breakfast was +ready she would sometimes call him with a low murmuring, +and he would answer her with a little bleat; but +those were almost the only sounds that were ever heard +from them, except the rustling of the dry leaves around +their feet. Yet they understood each other perfectly, +and they were very happy together. There was little +need of speech, for all they had to do the livelong day +was to wander about while the doe picked up her food, +and then, when she had eaten her fill, to lie down in some +sheltered place, and there rest and chew the cud till it +was time to move again.</p> + +<p>Life wasn't all sunshine, of course. There were plenty +of hard things for the baby Buck to put up with, and +perhaps the worst were the mosquitoes and the black-flies +and "no-see-'ems" that swarmed in the woods and +swamps through the month of June. They got into his +mouth and into his nose; they gathered in circles around +his eyes; and they snuggled cosily down between the +short hairs of his pretty, spotted coat, and sucked the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +blood out of him till it seemed as if he would soon go +dry. For a while they were almost unbearable, but I +suppose the woods-people get somewhat hardened to +them. Otherwise I should think our friends would have +been driven mad, for there was never any respite from +their attacks, except possibly a very stormy day, or a +bath in the lake, or a saunter on the shore.</p> + +<p>At the eastern end of the Glimmerglass there is a +broad strip of sand beach, where, if there happens to be +a breeze from the water, one can walk and be quite free +from the flies; though in calm weather, or with an offshore +wind, it is not much better than the woods. +There, during fly-time, the doe and her baby were often +to be found; and to see him promenading up and down +the hard sand, with his mother looking on, was one of +the prettiest sights in all the wilderness. The ground-color +of his coat was a bright bay red, somewhat like that +of his mother's summer clothing; but deeper and richer +and handsomer, and with pure white spots arranged in +irregular rows all along his neck and back and sides. He +was so sleek and polished that he fairly glistened in the +sunshine, like a well-groomed horse; his great dark eyes +were brighter than a girl's at her first ball; and his ears<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +were almost as big as a mule's, and a million times as +pretty. But best and most beautiful of all was the marvellous +life and grace and spirit of his every pose and +motion. When he walked, his head and neck were +thrust forward and drawn back again at every step with +the daintiest gesture imaginable; and his tiny pointed +hoofs touched the ground so lightly, and were away again +so quickly, that you hardly knew what they had done. +If anything startled him, he stamped with his forefoot on +the hard sand, and tossed his head in the air with an expression +that was not fear, but alertness, and even defiance. +And when he leaped and ran—but there's no use +in trying to describe that.</p> + +<p>By the middle of July most of the flies were gone, and +the deer could travel where they pleased without being +eaten alive. And then, almost before they knew what +had happened, the summer was gone, too, and the autumn +had come. The Fawn's white spots disappeared, and both +he and his mother put off their thin red summer clothing +and donned the blue coat of fall, which would by and by +fade into the gray of winter—a garment made of longer, +coarser hairs, which were so thick that they had to stand +on end because there wasn't room for them to lie down,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +and which made such a warm covering that one who +wore it could sleep all night in the snow, and rise in the +morning dry and comfortable.</p> + +<p>The Fawn had thriven wonderfully. Already the +budding antlers were pushing through the skin on the +top of his head, which alone is pretty good proof that he +was a remarkable baby. But, of course, the infancy of a +wild animal is always much shorter than that of a human +child. It is well that this is so, for if the period of weakness +and helplessness was not shortened for them, there +would probably be very few who would ever survive its +dangers and reach maturity. The Fawn was weaned +early in the autumn; though he still ran with his mother, +and she showed him what herbs and leaves were pleasantest +to the taste and best for building up bone and muscle, +and where the beechnuts were most plentiful. The +mast was good that fall, which isn't always the case, and +that was another lucky star in young Buck's horoscope. +So much depends on having plenty to eat the first year.</p> + +<p>And now the doe was thriving as well as her son. +Through the summer she had been thin and poor, for the +Fawn had fed on her life and strength, and the best of +all that came to her she had given to him; but the strain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +was over at last, and there were granted her a few weeks +in which to prepare for the season of cold and storm and +scanty food. She made the best of them, and in an +amazingly short time she was rolling fat.</p> + +<p>Everything was lovely and the goose hung high, when +all of a sudden the peace and quiet of their every-day +lives were rudely broken. The hunting season had come, +and half-a-dozen farmers from lower Michigan had +camped beside the Glimmerglass. They were not really +very formidable. If one wants to kill deer, one should +learn to shoot straight and to get around in the woods +without making quite as much noise as a locomotive. +But their racket was intolerable, and after a day or two +the doe and the Fawn left home and spent the next three +or four weeks near a secluded little pond several miles +away to the southeast.</p> + +<p>By the first of December these troublous times were +over, and they had returned to their old haunts in the +beech and maple woods, where they picked up a rather +scanty living by scraping the light snow away with +their forefeet in search of the savory nuts. But before +Christmas there came a storm which covered the ground +so deeply that they could no longer dig out enough food<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +to keep them from going hungry; and they were forced +to leave the high lands and make their way to the evergreen +swamps around the head-waters of the Tahquamenon. +There they lived on twigs of balsam and hemlock +and spruce, with now and then a mouthful of moss +or a nutritious lichen. Little by little the fat on their +ribs disappeared, they grew lank and lean again, and the +bones showed more and more plainly through their heavy +winter coats. If one of those November hunters had +succeeded in setting his teeth in their flesh he would have +found that it had a very pleasant, nutty flavor, but in +February it would have tasted decidedly of hemlock. +Yet they were strong and healthy, in spite of their boniness, +and of course you can't expect to be very fat in +winter.</p> + +<p>There were worse things than hunger. One afternoon +they were following a big buck down a runway—all +three of them minding their own business and behaving +in a very orderly and peaceable manner—when a shanty-boy +stepped out from behind a big birch just ahead of +them, and said, "Aah!" very derisively and insultingly. +The wind was blowing from them to him, and they hadn't +had the least idea that he was there until they were within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +three rods of his tree. The buck was so startled that +for an instant he simply stood still and stared, which +was exactly what the shanty-boy had expected him to +do. He had stopped so suddenly that his forefeet were +thrust forward into the snow, and he was leaning backward +a trifle. His head was up, his eyes were almost +popping out of their sockets, and there was such a look +of astonishment on his face that the man laughed as he +raised his gun and took aim. In a second the deer had +wheeled and was in the air, but a bullet broke his back +just as he left the ground, and he came tumbling down +again in a shapeless heap. His spinal cord was cut, and +half his body was dead; but he would not give up even +then, and he half rose on his forefeet and tried to drag +himself away. The shanty-boy stepped to his side with +a knife in his hand, the deer gave one loud bleat of fear +and pain, and then it was all over.</p> + +<p>But by that time the doe and the Fawn were far down +the runway—out of sight, and out of danger. Next +day they passed that way again, and saw a Canada lynx +standing where the buck had fallen, licking his chops as +if he had just finished a good meal. It is hard work +carrying a deer through the woods, and the shanty-boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +had lightened his load as much as possible. Lynxes are +not nice. The mother and son pulled their freight as +fast as they could travel.</p> + +<p>When the world turned green again they went back to +the Glimmerglass, but they had not been there long before +the young Buck had his nose put out of joint by the +arrival of two new babies. Thenceforth his mother had +all she could do to take care of them, without paying any +further attention to him. The days of his fawnhood +were over, and it was time for him to strike out into the +world and make his own living.</p> + +<p>However, I don't think he was very lonesome. There +were plenty of other deer in the woods, and though he +did not associate with any of them as he had with his +mother, yet he may have enjoyed meeting them occasionally +in his travels. And there was ever so much to do +and to think about. Eating took up a good deal of +time, for he was very active and was still growing, and +his strong young body was constantly calling for more +food. And it wasn't enough merely to find the food and +swallow it, for no sooner was his stomach full than he +had to lie down and chew the cud for an hour or so. +And, of course, the black-flies and mosquitoes and "no-see-'ems"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +helped to make things interesting, just as they +had the year before. Strictly speaking, it is impossible +to be lonely in the woods during fly-time. He changed +his clothes, too, and put on a much handsomer dress, +though I doubt if he took as much interest in that operation +as most of us would. The change contributed +greatly to his comfort, for his light summer garment was +much better adapted to warm weather than his winter +coat, but it did not require any conscious effort on his +part. On hot days he sometimes waded out into the +lake in search of lily-pads, and the touch of the cool +water was very grateful. Occasionally he would take a +long swim, and once or twice he paddled clear across the +Glimmerglass, from one shore to the other.</p> + +<p>And it was during this summer that he raised his first +real antlers. Those of the previous autumn had been +nothing but two little buds of bone, but these were +pointed spikes, several inches in length, standing straight +up from the top of his head without a fork or a branch or +a curve. They did not add very much to his good looks, +and, of course, they dropped off early in the following +winter, but they were the forerunners of the beautiful +branching antlers of his later years, and if he thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +about them at all they were probably as welcome as a +boy's first mustache.</p> + +<p>Late in the following autumn an event occurred which +left its mark on him for the rest of his life. One night +he wandered into a part of the woods where some lumbermen +had been working during the day. On the ground +where they had eaten their lunch he found some baked +beans and a piece of dried apple-pie, and he ate them +greedily and was glad that he had come. But he found +something else, too. One of the road-monkeys had carelessly +left his axe in the snow with the edge turned up. +The Buck stepped on it, and it slipped in between the +two halves of his cloven hoof, and cut deep into his foot. +The wound healed in the course of time, but from that +night the toes—they were those of his left hind foot—were +spread far apart, instead of lying close together as +they should have done. Sticks and roots sometimes +caught between them in a way that was very annoying, +and his track was different from that of any other deer in +the woods, which was not a thing to be desired. He was +not crippled, however, for he could still leap almost, if not +quite, as far as ever, and run almost as fast.</p> + +<p>He continued to grow and prosper, and the next<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +summer he raised a pair of forked antlers with two +tines each.</p> + +<p>And now he is well started down the runway of life, +and we must leave him to travel by himself for two or +three years. He ranged the woods far and near, and +came to know them as a man knows his own house; but +no matter what places he visited, the old haunts that his +mother had shown him were the best of all, as the deer +have learned by the experience of generation after generation. +He always came back again to the Glimmerglass, +and as the seasons went by I often saw his broad, spreading +hoof-print on the sandy beach where they two had so +often walked in that first summer. He evidently had +plenty of company, and was probably enjoying life, for +all around were other foot-prints that were narrow and +delicately pointed, as a deer's should be. Some of them, +of course, were his own, left by his three perfect feet; but +others were those of his friends and acquaintances, and it +is quite possible that some of the tiniest and daintiest +were made by his children.</p> + +<p>That beach is a delightful place for a promenade on a +summer night, and besides the deer-tracks one can sometimes +find there the trails of the waddling porcupines, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +broad, heavy print left by a black bear as he goes shambling +by, and the handwriting of many another of the +woods-people. Strange and interesting scenes must often +be enacted on the smooth, hard sand that lies between the +woods and the water, and it is a pity that the show always +comes to a sudden close if any would-be spectators +appear, and that we never see anything but the foot-prints +of the performers.</p> + +<p>With each recurring hunting season the Buck and the +other deer that made their homes around the Glimmerglass +were driven away for a time. A few stayed, or at +least remained as near as they dared; but compared with +summer the neighborhood was almost depopulated. And +in his fourth year, in spite of all his efforts to keep out +of harm's way, the Buck came very near losing his life at +the hands of a man who had really learned how to hunt—not +one of the farmers who went ramming about the +woods, shooting at everything in sight, and making noise +enough to startle even the porcupines.</p> + +<p>One afternoon, late in the autumn, the judge left his +court-room in Detroit and started for his house. He +bought an evening paper as he boarded the street-car; +and, as Fate would have it, the first thing that met his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +eye as he unfolded it was the forecast for upper Michigan: +"Colder; slight snow-fall; light northerly winds." +The judge folded the paper again and put it in his +pocket, and all the rest of the way home he was dreaming +of things that he had seen before—of the white and +silent woods, of deer-tracks in the inch-deep snow, of the +long still-hunt under dripping branches and gray November +skies, of a huge buck feeding unconcernedly beneath +the beech-trees, of nutty venison steaks broiling on the +coals, and, finally, of another pair of antlers for his dining-room. +Court had adjourned for three days, and that +night he took the train for the north. And while he +travelled, the snow came down softly and silently, melting +at first as fast as it fell, and then, as the cold grew +sharper, clothing the woods in a thin, white robe, the first +gift of the coming winter.</p> + +<p>Next day the Buck was lying behind a fallen tree, +chewing his cud, when the breeze brought him a whiff of +an unpleasant human odor. He jumped up and hurried +away, and the judge heard him crash through the bushes, +and searched until he had found his trail. An hour +later, as the Buck was nosing for beechnuts in the snow, +a rifle cracked and a bullet went zipping by and carried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +off the very tip of his left antler. He dropped his white +flag and was off like a shot.</p> + +<p>Chase a wounded deer, and he will run for miles; leave +him alone, and if he is badly hurt he will soon lie down. +The chances are that he will never get up again. The +judge knew that the Buck was hit, for he had seen his +tail come down. But was he hit hard? There was no +blood on the trail, and the judge decided to follow.</p> + +<p>The Buck hurried on, but before long his leaps began +to grow shorter. After a mile or so he stopped, looked +back, and listened. The woods were very, very still, and +for all that he could see or hear there was not the least +sign of danger. Yet he was afraid, and in a few minutes +he pushed on again, though not as rapidly as +before. As the short afternoon wore away he travelled +still more slowly, and his stops were longer and more +frequent. And at last, just before sunset, as he stood +and watched for the enemy who might or might not be +on his trail, he heard a twig snap, and saw a dark form +slip behind a tree. This time he ran as he had never +run before in all his life.</p> + +<p>The judge spent the night at the nearest lumber-camp, +and the next morning he was out again as soon as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +could see, following his own trail back to where he had +left that of the Buck. On the way he crossed the tracks +of two other deer, but they had no temptations for him. +He wanted to solve the mystery of that spreading hoof-print, +and to make sure that his shot had not been a clean +miss. And now began a day which was without precedent +in the Buck's whole history. Those woods are not the +best in the world for a deer who has to play hide-and-seek +with a man, for there are few bare ridges or half-wooded +slopes from which he can look back to see if anyone is +following him. Even the glades and the open cranberry +swamps are small and infrequent. An almost unbroken +forest sweeps away in every direction, and everywhere +there is cover for the still-hunter. And when the ground +is carpeted with snow an inch and a half deep, as it was +then, and at every step a deer must leave behind him a +trail as plain as a turnpike road, then it is not strange if +he feels that he has run up against a decidedly tough +proposition. Eyes, ears, and nose are all on the alert, and +all doing their level best, but what eye can penetrate the +cedar swamp beyond a few yards; or what ear can always +catch the tread of a moccasin on the moss and the snow +before it comes within rifle range; or what nose, no matter<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +how delicate, can detect anything but what happens +to lie in its owner's path, or what the wind chooses to +bring it? Many a foe had crossed the Buck's trail in the +course of his life; but none had ever followed him like +this—silently and relentlessly—slowly, but without a moment's +pause. A few leaps were always enough to put +the judge out of sight, and half an hour's run left him +far behind; but in a little while he was there again, +creeping cautiously through the undergrowth, and peering +this way and that for a glimpse of a plump, round, +blue-gray body. Once he fired before the deer knew that +he was at hand, and if a hanging twig had not turned +the bullet a trifle from its course, the still-hunt would +have ended then and there.</p> + +<p>But late in the afternoon the Buck thought that he +had really shaken his pursuer off, and the judge was beginning +to think so, too. They had not seen each other +for two or three hours, the day was nearly over, and +there were signs of a change in the weather. If the Buck +could hold out till nightfall, and then the snow should +melt before morning, he would be comparatively safe.</p> + +<p>In his fear of the enemy lurking in the rear, he had +forgotten all other dangers; and without quite realizing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +what he was doing he had come back to the Glimmerglass, +and was tramping once more up and down the old +familiar runways. Presently he came upon a huge maple, +lying prostrate on the ground. He walked around its +great bushy head and down toward its foot; and there +he found a broad, saucer-shaped hollow, left when the +tree was torn up by the roots in some wild gale. On one +side rose a mass of earth, straight as a stone wall and +four or five feet in height; and against its foot lay one +of the most tempting beds of dead leaves that he had ever +seen, free from snow, dry as a whistle, soft and downy. +The sight of it was too much for him. He was very +weary, his limbs fairly ached with fatigue, and for the +last hour his spread hoof had given him a good deal of +pain. His enemy was nowhere in sight, and in spite of +his misgivings he sank down on the couch with a sigh of +comfort, and began to chew his cud.</p> + +<p>The judge was about ready to give up for the night +when he, too, came upon that fallen maple. He saw the +wall of earth and twisted roots, with the deer-tracks leading +toward it; and slowly, softly, silently, he crept down +toward the Buck's shelter.</p> + +<p>There was no wind that evening, and the woods seemed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +perfectly still; but now, unnoticed by the judge, a faint, +faint puff came wandering among the trees, as if on purpose +to warn the deer of his danger. Suddenly he started, +sniffed the air, and was up and away like a race-horse—not +leaping nor bounding now, but running low, with his +head down, and his antlers laid back on his neck. If he +had been in the cedar swamp he would have escaped unhurt, +but up in the hardwood the trees do not stand so +close, and one can see a little farther. The judge fired +before he could get out of sight, and he dropped with +three ribs broken and a bullet lodged behind his right +shoulder. He was up again in an instant, but there +were blood-stains on the snow where he had lain, and +this time the judge did not follow. Instead of giving +chase he went straight back to the lumber-camp, feeling +almost as sure of that new pair of antlers as if he had +carried them with him.</p> + +<p>The Buck ran a little way, with his flag lowered and +the blood spurting, and then he lay down to rest, just as +the judge knew he would. The bleeding soon stopped, +but it left him very weak and tired, and that night was +the most miserable he had ever known. The darkness +settled down thick and black over the woods, the wind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +began to blow, and by and by the rain commenced to +fall—first a drizzle, and then a steady pour. Cold and +wet, wounded and tired and hungry, the Buck was about +as wretched as it is possible for a mortal to be. And +yet that rain was the one and only thing that could +save him. Under its melting touch the snow began to +disappear, and before morning the ground was bare again. +Even the blood-stains were washed away. It would take +a better nose than the judge's to track him now.</p> + +<p>Yet the danger was not over, by any means. The +judge knew very nearly where to look for him, and could +probably find him if he did not get up and move on. +And to move on, or even to rise to his feet, seemed utterly +impossible. The least motion sent the most exquisite +pain shooting through his whole body, and I believe +he would have died where he lay, either at the hands of +the judge or from exhaustion, if another man hadn't +come along. The judge would have advanced slowly and +quietly, and the deer might never have known he was +coming till a rifle bullet hit him; but this man's errand +must have been a different one, for he came striding noisily +through the trees and bushes and over the dead leaves, +whistling "I Want Yer, Ma Honey," at the top of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +whistle. If you are obliged to be out in the woods during +the hunting season, and don't care to kill anything, +it is always best to make as much noise as you can. +There is less danger that some other fool will take you +for a deer and shoot you dead. The Buck heard him, of +course, and tried to rise, only to sink back with a groan. +He couldn't do it, or at least he thought he couldn't. +But when the man came around a little balsam only two +rods away, then his panic got the better of his pain, and +he jumped up and made off at a clumsy, limping run. +Every joint seemed on fire, and he ached from the top of +his head to the toes of that poor left hind-foot. But +after the first plunge it was not quite so bad. The motion +took some of the stiffness out of his limbs, and by +the time the judge arrived he was a mile away and was +thinking about breakfast.</p> + +<p>We must do the sportsman the justice of saying that +his remorse was very keen when he stepped aboard the +train that night, bound for Detroit. He had wounded a +deer and had let it get away from him, to suffer, and +probably to die a painful, lingering death. The whole +day—the last of the hunting season and of his court recess—had +been spent in an unavailing search; not merely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +because he wanted some venison and a pair of antlers to +carry home with him, but because he wanted to put the +Buck out of his misery. He had failed everywhere, and +he felt sorry and ashamed, and wished he had stayed at +home. But, as it happened, the Buck did not want to +be put out of his misery. Just as the judge took the +train he was lying down for the night. He would be +stiff when he rose again, but not as stiff as he had been +that morning. He would be weak and tired, but he +would still be able to travel and find food. He would +lose his plumpness and roundness, no doubt, and lose +them very rapidly. The winter would probably be a hard +one, with such a misfortune as this at its very beginning. +But no matter, it would pass. He wasn't the first Buck +who had had his ribs smashed by an injection of lead and +had lived to tell the tale.</p> + +<p>The next year it was his antlers that got him into +trouble—his antlers and his quarrelsomeness. Two +round, black, velvet-covered knobs had appeared in spring +on the top of his head, and had pushed up higher and +higher till they formed cylindrical columns, each one +leaning outward and a little backward. They were hot +as fever with the blood that was rushing through them,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +building up the living masonry; and at the upper ends, +where the work was newest, they were soft and spongy, +and very sensitive, so that the least touch was enough to +give pain. Longer and longer they grew, and harder +and harder; by and by curving forward and inward; and +one after another the tines appeared. And at last, in +the early autumn, the tall towers of bone were complete, +the blood ceased to course through them, and the Buck +rubbed them against the tree-trunks until the velvety +skin was all worn off, and they were left smooth and +brown and polished. They were a handsome pair, spreading +and branching very gracefully over his forehead, and +bearing four tines to each beam. It is a mistake to suppose, +as so many people do, that the number of tines on +each antler invariably corresponds to the number of years +that its owner has lived; but it very often does, especially +before he has passed the prime of life.</p> + +<p>No sooner were the antlers finished than the Buck +began to grow fat. He had been eating heartily for +months, but he hadn't been able to put much flesh on his +ribs as long as he had that big, bony growth to feed. +Bucks and does are alike in this, that for both of them +the summer is a season of plenty, but not of growing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +plump and round and strong. The difference between +them is that the does give their strength and vitality to +the children they are nursing, while the bucks pile theirs +up on their own foreheads.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 293px;"> +<img src="images/gs015.jpg" width="293" height="450" alt=""The buck was nearing the prime of life."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"The buck was nearing the prime of life."</span> +</div> + +<p>And there was another change which came with the +autumn. Through the summer he had been quiet and +gentle, and had attended very strictly to his own affairs; +but now the life and vigor and vitality which for weeks +and months had been pouring into that tall, beautiful +structure on his forehead were all surging like a tide +through his whole body; and he became very passionate +and excitable, and spent much time in rushing about the +woods in search of other deer, fighting those of his own +sex, and making love to the does. The year was at its +high-water mark, and the Buck was nearing his prime. +Food was plenty; everywhere the beechnuts were dropping +on the dry leaves; the autumn sunshine was warm +and mellow; the woods were gay with scarlet and gold +and brown, and the very taste of the air was enough to +make one happy. Was it any wonder if he sometimes +felt as if he would like to fight every other buck in +Michigan, and all of them at once?</p> + +<p>One afternoon in October he fought a battle with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +another buck who was very nearly his match in size and +strength—a battle that came near being the end of both +of them. There was a doe just vanishing among the +bushes when the fuss began, and the question at issue was +which should follow her and which shouldn't. It would +be easy enough to find her, for, metaphorically speaking, +"her feet had touched the meadows, and left the daisies +rosy." Wherever she went, a faint, faint fragrance clung +to the dead leaves, far too delicate for a human nose to +detect, yet quite strong enough for a buck to follow. But +the trail wasn't broad enough for two, and the first thing +to be done was to have a scrap and see which was the +better and more deserving deer. And, as it turned +out, the scent grew cold again, and the doe never heard +that eager patter of hoofs hurrying down the runway +behind her.</p> + +<p>The bucks came together like two battering-rams, with +a great clatter and clash of antlers, but after the first +shock the fight seemed little more than a pushing-match. +Each one was constantly trying to catch the other off his +guard and thrust a point into his flesh, but they never +succeeded. A pair of widely branching antlers is as useful +in warding off blows as in delivering them. Such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +perfect shield does it make, when properly handled, that +at the end of half an hour neither of the bucks was suffering +from anything but fatigue, and the issue was as far as +ever from being settled. There was foam on their lips, +and sweat on their sides; their mouths were open, and +their breath came in gasps; every muscle was working its +hardest, pushing and shoving and guarding; and they +drove each other backward and forward through the +bushes, and ploughed up the ground, and scattered the dry +leaves in their struggles; and yet there was not a scratch +on either shapely body.</p> + +<p>Finally, they backed off and rushed together again with +such violence that our Buck's antlers were forced apart +just a trifle, and his enemy's slipped in between them. +There was a little snap as they sprang back into position, +and the mischief was done. The two foes were locked +together in an embrace which death itself could not +loosen.</p> + +<p>The next few weeks were worse than a nightmare. If +one went forward, the other had to go backward; and +neither could go anywhere or do anything without getting +the consent of the other or else carrying him along +by main force. Many things could not be done at all—not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +even when both were willing and anxious to do them. +They could not run or leap. They could not see, except +out of the corners of their eyes. They would never again +toss those beautiful antlers in the air, for they had come +together with their heads held low, and in that position +they must remain. They could not even lie down without +twisting their necks till they ached as if they were breaking. +With their noses to the ground, and with anger +and misery in their hearts, they pushed and hauled each +other this way and that through the woods. And wherever +they went, they were always struggling and fighting +and striving for every mouthful of food that came within +reach. It was little enough that they found at the best, +and it would have been better for both of them if they +could have agreed to divide it evenly, but of course that +would have been asking too much of deer nature. Each +took all he could get, and at first they were so evenly +matched that each secured somewhere near his fair share. +They spied a beechnut on the ground, or a bit of lichen, +or a tender twig; and together they made a dive for it. +Two noses were thrust forward—no, not forward, sidewise—and +two mouths were open to grasp the precious +morsel which would enable its possessor to keep up the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +fight a little longer. Sometimes one got it, and sometimes +the other; but from the very beginning our Buck +was a shade the stronger, and his superiority grew with +every mouthful that he managed to wrest from his fellow-prisoner. +Both of them were losing flesh rapidly, but he +kept his longer than the other. And at last they reached +the point where, by reason of his greater strength, he got +everything and the other nothing, and then the end was +near. It would have come long before if both had not +been in prime condition on the day of the battle.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/gs016.jpg" width="500" height="322" alt=""Wherever they went they were always struggling and fighting."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Wherever they went they were always struggling and fighting."</span> +</div> + +<p>One dark, stormy night the two deer were stumbling +and floundering over roots and bushes, trying to find +their way down to the beach for a drink. Both of them +were pretty well used up; and one was so weak that he +could hardly stand, and could only walk by leaning +heavily on the head and antlers of the other, who supported +him because he was obliged to, and not out of +friendliness. They were within a few rods of the beach +when he whose strength was least stepped into a hole and +fell, and his leg-bone snapped like a dry twig. He struggled +and tried to rise; but his story was told, and before +morning he was dead. For once our Buck's instinct of +self-preservation had carried him too far. He had taken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +all the food for himself, and had starved his enemy; and +now he was bound face to face to a corpse.</p> + +<p>Well, we won't talk about that. He stayed there +twenty-four hours, and there would soon have been two +dead bucks instead of one if something had not happened +which he did not in the least expect—something which +seemed like a blessed miracle, yet which was really the simplest +and most natural thing in the world. A buck has no +fixed time for the casting of his antlers. It usually occurs +during the first half of the winter, but it has been known +to take place as early as November and as late as April. +The second night passed, and as it began to grow light +again our friend lifted himself on his knees and his hind-legs, +and wrestled mightily with his horrible bed-fellow; +and suddenly his left antler came loose from his head. +The right one was still fast, but it was easily disengaged +from the tangle of branching horns, and in a moment he +stood erect. The blood was running down his face from +the pedicel where the antler had stood, and he was so +weak and dizzy that his legs could hardly carry him, and +so thin and wasted that he seemed the mere shadow of +his former self. But he was free, and that long, horrible +dream was over at last.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>He tried to walk toward the lake, but fell before he +had taken half-a-dozen steps; and for an hour he lay +still and rested. It was like a taste of heaven, just to be +able to hold his neck straight. The sun had risen by the +time he was ready to try it again, and through the trees +he saw the shimmer and sparkle of the Glimmerglass. He +heard the wind talking to itself in the branches overhead, +and the splashing of the ripples on the beach; +and he staggered down to the margin and drank long +and deep.</p> + +<p>That December was a mild one. The first light snow +had already come and gone, and the next two weeks were +bright and sunshiny. The Buck ate as he had never +eaten before, and it was astonishing to see how rapidly +he picked up, and how much he gained before Christmas. +His good luck seemed to follow him month after month, +for the winter was comparatively open, the snow was not +as deep as usual, and the spring came early. By that +time the ill effects of his terrible experience had almost +entirely disappeared, and he was in nearly as good condition +as is usual with the deer at that season of the year—which, +of course, isn't really saying very much.</p> + +<p>Again, Nature's table was spread with good things, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +again he set to work to build a pair of antlers—a pair +that should be larger and handsomer than any that had +gone before. But as the summer lengthened it became +evident that there was something wrong with those antlers, +or at least with one of them. One seemed to be quite +perfect. It was considerably longer than those of last +year, its curve was just right, and it had five tines, which +was the correct number and all that he could have asked. +But the other, the left, was nothing but a straight, pointed +spike, perhaps eight inches in length, shaped almost exactly +like those of his first pair. The Buck never knew +the reason for this deformity, and I'm not at all certain +about it myself, though I have a theory. One +stormy day in the early summer, a falling branch, torn +from a tree-top by the wind, had struck squarely on that +growing antler, then only a few inches long. It hurt him +so that for a moment he was fairly blind and dizzy, and +it is quite possible that the soft, half-formed bone was so +injured that it could never reach its full development. +Anyhow, it made him a rather queer-looking buck, with +one perfect antler and one spike. But in everything else—except +his spread hoof—he was without spot or blemish. +He had well fulfilled the promise of his youth, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +he was big and strong and beautiful. Something he had +lost, no doubt, of the grace and daintiness of his baby +days; but he had also gained much—gained in stateliness +and dignity, as well as in size and weight and strength. +And even that spike antler was not without its advantages, +as he learned a little later.</p> + +<p>As the autumn came round he was just as excitable and +passionate, just as ready for fighting or love-making, as +ever, and not one whit subdued by the disaster of the +year before. And so one day he had another battle with +another buck, while another doe—or perhaps the same +one—made off through the trees and left a fragrant trail +behind her. He and his adversary went at each other in +the usual way, and for some time it seemed unlikely that +either of them could ever do anything more than tire the +other out by hard pushing. There was little danger that +their antlers would get locked this time, with one pair so +badly mismated; and it bade fair to be a very ordinary, +every-day sort of a fight. But by and by our Buck saw +his opportunity. The enemy exposed his left side, in an +unguarded moment, and before he could recover himself +that deformed antler had dealt him a terrible thrust. If +the force of the blow had been divided among five tines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +it would probably have had but little effect, but the single +straight spike was as good as a sword or a bayonet, and +it won the day. The deer with the perfect antlers was +not only vanquished, but killed; and the victor was off on +the trail of the doe.</p> + +<p>And so our friend became the champion of the Glimmerglass, +and in all the woods there was not a buck that +could stand against him.</p> + +<p>But his brother deer were not his only enemies. With +the opening of the hunting season those farmers from +lower Michigan came again, and day after day they beat +the woods in search of game. This time, however, the +Buck did not leave, or at least he did not go very far. +For the last month he had been fighting everyone who +would fight back, and perhaps his many easy victories +had made him reckless. At any rate he was bolder than +usual, and all through the season he stayed within a few +miles of the Glimmerglass.</p> + +<p>The farmers had decidedly poor luck, and after hunting +for two or three weeks without a single taste of venison +they began to feel desperate. Finally, they secured the +help of a trapper who owned a big English foxhound. +Hunting with dogs was against the law, and at home they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +claimed to be very law-abiding citizens, but they had to +have a deer, no matter what happened.</p> + +<p>The morning after the hound's arrival he got onto the +trail of a doe and followed it for hours, until, as a last +resort, she made for the Glimmerglass, jumped into the +water, and started to swim across to the farther shore. +The dog's work was done, and he stood on the bank and +watched her go. For a few minutes she thought that she +was out of danger, and that the friendly Glimmerglass had +saved her; but presently she heard a sound of oars, and +turning half-way round she lifted her head and shoulders +out of the water, and saw a row-boat and three men bearing +down upon her. A look of horror came into her face +as she sank back, and her heart almost broke with despair; +but she was game, and she struck out with all her +might. Her legs tore the water frantically, the straining +muscles stood out like ropes on her sides and flanks and +shoulders, and she almost threw herself from the water. +But it was no use, the row-boat was gaining.</p> + +<p>The farmers fired at her again and again, but they were +too wildly excited to hit anything until finally the trapper +pulled up alongside her and threw a noose over her head. +And then, while she lay on her side in the water, with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +rope around her neck, kicking and struggling in a blind +agony of despair, one of the farmers shot her dead at a +range of something less than ten feet. When he went +home he bragged that he was the only one of the party +who had killed a deer, but he never told just how the +thing was done.</p> + +<p>That is the kind of fate that you are very likely to +meet if you are a deer. But vengeance came on the morrow, +for that day it was the Buck's turn to be chased by +that horrible fog-horn on four legs. Hour after hour he +heard the hound's dreadful baying behind him as he raced +through the woods, and at last he, too, started for the +water, just as the doe had done. But he never reached it, +or at least not on that trip. He was within a few rods of +the beach when his spread hoof caught on a root and threw +him, and the hound was so close behind that they both +went down in a heap. They sprang to their feet at the +same instant, and stood for a second glaring at each other. +The dog had not meant to fight, only to drive the other +into the water, where the hunters would take care of him; +but he was game, and he made a spring at the deer's +throat. The Buck drew back his forefoot, with its sharp, +pointed hoof, and met the enemy with a thrust like that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +of a Roman soldier's short-sword; and the hound went +down with his shoulder broken and a great gash in his +side. And then, with a sudden twist and turn of his +head, the Buck caught him on the point of that terrible +spike antler, ripped his body open, and tossed him in +the air.</p> + +<p>The worst enemy was disposed of. But that wasn't all. +The man who killed the doe was waiting on the beach and +had heard the scuffle, and now he came creeping quietly +through the bushes to see what was going on. The +Buck was still trampling the body of the dog, and +noticed nothing till a rifle bullet grazed his right flank, +inflicting just enough of a wound to make him still more +furious. He faced around and stood for a moment staring +at this new enemy; and then he did something which +very few wild deer have ever done. Probably he would +not have done it himself if he had not been half crazy +with rage and excitement, and much emboldened by his +easy victory over the hound. He put his head down and +his antlers forward, and charged on a man!</p> + +<p>The farmer was jerking frantically at the lever of his +repeating rifle, but a cartridge had stuck in the magazine, +and he couldn't make it work. The hound's fate had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +shown him what that spike antler could do; and when he +saw it bearing down on him at full tilt he dropped his +gun and ran for his life to his dug-out canoe. He reached +it just in time. I almost wish he hadn't.</p> + +<p>One more adventure the Buck had that fall. Providence, +or Fate, or someone took a hand in affairs, and rid +the Glimmerglass of all hunters, not for that season alone, +but for many years to come. One night, down beside a +spring in the cedar swamp, the Buck found a half-decayed +log on which a bag of salt had been emptied. He stayed +there for an hour or two, alternately licking the salt and +drinking the cold water, and it was as good as an ice-cream +soda. The next night he returned for another debauch; +but in the meantime two other visitors had been +there, and both had seen his tracks and knew that he +would come again. As he neared the spring, treading +noiselessly on the soft moss, he heard two little clicks, and +stopped short to see what they meant. Both were quick +and sharp, and both had come at exactly the same instant; +yet they were not quite alike, for one had come from the +shutter of a camera, and one from the lock of a rifle. +Across the salt-lick a photographer and a hunter were +facing each other in the darkness, and each saw the gleam<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +of the other's eyes and took him for a deer. So close +together were the two clicks that neither man heard the +sound of the other's weapon, and both were ready to fire—each +in his own way.</p> + +<p>The Buck stood and watched, and suddenly there came +two bursts of flame—one of them so big and bright that +it lit the woods like sheet-lightning. Two triggers had +been touched at the same instant, and each did its +work well. The flash-light printed on the sensitive +plate a picture of a hunter in the act of firing, and the +rifle sent a bullet straight through the photographer's +forehead. The Buck saw it all as in a dream—the white +flame of the magnesium powder; the rifle, belching out +its fire and smoke; the camera, silent and harmless, but +working just as surely; the two men, each straining his +eyes for a sight of his game; the water gleaming in the +fierce light, and the dark ranks of the cedars all around. +And then, in the tenth of a second, it was all over, and +the Buck was bumping against trees, and stumbling and +floundering over roots, in his dazed haste to get away +from this terrifying mystery. He heard one horrified +shout from the hunter, but nothing from the photographer—and +the woods were silent again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> + +<p>That was the end of the hunting season at the Glimmerglass. +With the hunter's trial for manslaughter, we +and the Buck are not concerned; and there is nothing +more to tell except that the next year the owners of the +lands around the lake gave warning that all trespassers +would be prosecuted. They wanted no more such tragedies +on their property.</p> + +<p>And so the Buck and his sweethearts and his rivals +lived in peace, except that the rivals still quarrelled +among themselves, as Nature meant them to. The Buck +had reached his prime, but you are not to suppose that +he began to age immediately afterward. It was long before +his eye was dimmed or his natural force abated; +and as the years went by, with their summers of lily-pads +and tender young browse, and their autumns of beechnuts +and fighting and love-making, the broad cloven +track of his split foot was often to be found in the hard, +smooth sand of the beach. Perhaps it is there now. I +wish I could go and see.</p> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 201px;"> +<img src="images/logo01.jpg" width="201" height="200" alt="Emblem" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'>THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS<br /> +GARDEN CITY, N.Y.</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOREST NEIGHBORS***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 27933-h.txt or 27933-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/7/9/3/27933">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/9/3/27933</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 the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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