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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/77515-0.txt b/77515-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b850bcb --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7590 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77515 *** + + + + + THE WOODRANGER + + + + +[Illustration: “‘I’M UNDER OATH.’”] + + + + + THE WOODRANGER + + A Story of the Pioneers of the Debatable + Grounds + + + BY + G. WALDO BROWNE + + AUTHOR OF + “TWO AMERICAN BOYS IN + HAWAII,” ETC. + + + Illustrated by + L. J. BRIDGMAN + + + NEW YORK + A. WESSELS COMPANY + 1907 + + + + + _Copyright, 1899_ + BY L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY + (Incorporated) + _All rights reserved_ + + + + + TO + + Norman Stanley Browne + + MY MERRY LITTLE SON + HOPING IT WILL INTEREST AND INSTRUCT HIM + THIS VOLUME IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER PAGE + INTRODUCTION 7 + I. THE DEER’S LEAP 11 + II. THE WOODRANGER AND THE DEER REEVE 16 + III. NORMAN MEETS HIS ENEMY 23 + IV. A PERILOUS PREDICAMENT 30 + V. JOHNNY STARK 43 + VI. THE MAN WHO KNEW IT ALL 53 + VII. NORMAN’S TRIAL 63 + VIII. END OF THE TRIAL 75 + IX. THE SHOOTING-MATCH 84 + X. AN ALARM 97 + XI. A FIERY GIRDLE 103 + XII. BAD NEWS AT HOME 112 + XIII. THE HONOUR OF THE McNIELS 119 + XIV. NORMAN WORKS IN A STUMP-FIELD 126 + XV. HANGING A BEAR 139 + XVI. GUNWAD TAKES DECISIVE ACTION 149 + XVII. THE CANOE MATCH 163 + XVIII. THE FALL HUNT 180 + XIX. DEER NECK 188 + XX. THE CRY FOR HELP 196 + XXI. A PECULIAR PREDICAMENT 202 + XXII. THE GUN-SHOT 209 + XXIII. THE FOREST TRAGEDY 215 + XXIV. BEAR’S CLAWS――THE TURKEY TRAIN 221 + XXV. THE PLACE OF THE BIG BUCK 229 + XXVI. AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE 234 + XXVII. “CREEPING” THE MOOSE 242 + XXVIII. THE BATTLE OF THE MONARCHS 250 + XXIX. TEST SHOTS――THE SNOW-STORM 255 + XXX. THE BURNING OF CHRISTO’S WIGWAM 262 + XXXI. THE WOODRANGER SURPRISES MR. MacDONALD 270 + XXXII. ZACK BITLOCK’S DEER 278 + XXXIII. RAISING THE MEETING-HOUSE 286 + XXXIV. THE FRESHET 294 + XXXV. THE WOODRANGER’S SECRET 300 + XXXVI. THE TURNING OF THE TIDE 308 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + + PAGE + + “‘I’M UNDER OATH’” _Frontispiece_ + + “THE DEER SPRANG OUT OVER THE DIZZY BRINK” 15 + + “ARCHIE IMPROVED HIS OPPORTUNITY TO DROP THE NOOSE OVER HER HEAD” 144 + + “HIS RIGHT ARM MOVED SLOWLY TO AND FRO” 278 + + + + + INTRODUCTION. + + +In order to understand the scenes about to be described, it is +necessary to take a hasty glance at the general situation in 1740 of +the colonists in the vicinity of the Merrimack River. It should be +borne in mind that New England was only a narrow strip of country along +the seacoast, and was divided into four provinces,――Rhode Island, +Connecticut, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire. + +Unfortunately for the welfare of the pioneers in the last-named +province, the boundary line between New Hampshire and Massachusetts +was a matter of dispute for nearly a hundred years. The difference had +arisen from a misconception at the outset in regard to the source of +the Merrimack River, which was believed by its early discoverers and +explorers to rise in the west and follow an easterly course to the +ocean. Accordingly, the province of Massachusetts claimed not only all +of the land to the southwest of the other province, but a strip three +miles wide along the east bank of the stream to its supposed source +in the great lake (Winnepesaukee), including not only the debatable +ground of Namaske, but a tract of country to its south and east, +called the “Chestnut Country,” on account of the large number of those +trees growing there. + +In 1719 a part of this territory was settled by a party of colonists +from the north of Ireland, known as Scotch-Irish, from their having +previously emigrated to that country from Scotland. These settlers, who +called their new town first Nutfield and then Londonderry, in honour +of the county from whence they had come, supposed that the deeds and +grants which they had received from the province of New Hampshire would +allow them to hold the debatable ground. They were upright, courageous +men and women, but were rigid Presbyterians, and for this reason met +with little favour from their equally austere Puritan neighbours from +Massachusetts. + +In order to colonise the disputed territory, Massachusetts at about +this time began a system of granting lands as a reward for meritorious +service in fighting the Indians, and among others was a grant to the +survivors of the famous “Snow Shoe Expedition” of the tract of land +below Namaske Falls, which had gained the disreputable name of Old +Harrytown. The leader of the expedition, Captain Tyng, was dead, but in +honour of him the new town was named Tyng Township. + +In one respect the settlers of Tyng Township were fortunate. They +arrived during one of those transitory intervals of comparative peace, +which came and went during the long and sanguinary struggle with the +Indians like flashes of sunlight on a stormy day. In 1725, following +several victories of the whites over their savage enemies, foremost +of which was Lovewell’s fight, the chief of the Abnaki Indians, then +the leading tribe in New England, signed a treaty of peace at Boston. +This treaty was not broken until 1744, and the whole history of Tyng +Township is included within these two dates. + +As stated above, some of the Scotch-Irish, under grants from New +Hampshire, had already settled in the territory granted by Massachusetts +to Tyng’s men, and an intense rivalry at once sprang up between the +settlements. The English were determined and aggressive, the Scotch +stubborn and ready to fight to the bitter end for what they considered +their rights, and before long both sides were ready to resort to arms +the moment an overt act of their rivals should seem to call for such +measures. + + G. WALDO BROWNE. + + + + + THE WOODRANGER. + + + + + CHAPTER I. + + THE DEER’S LEAP. + + +As the distant baying of a hound broke like a discordant note upon the +quiet of the summer afternoon, a youth sprang upright on the pinnacle +of a cliff which reared its bald head above the surrounding forest, and +listened for a repetition of the unexpected alarm. + +The young listener presented a striking figure, the strong physique +of limb and body brought into bold relief against the sky, and each +feature clearly outlined, as he gazed into space. He was in his +nineteenth year, above the medium height, but so symmetrical in form +that he did not look out of proportion. His high cheek-bones, clear +blue eyes, straight nose, well-curved chin, and firm-set mouth showed +the characteristics of the Lowland sons of old Scotland. His name was +Norman McNiel. + +For nearly an hour he had lain there on the summit of Rock Rimmon, +gazing in a dreamy way over the broad panorama of wilderness, while +his mind carried him back across the stormy sea to his early home in +Northern Ireland, which he had left a year before to come to this +country with his young foster-sister Rilma and their aged grandfather, +Robert MacDonald, last of the noted MacDonalds of Glencoe. + +“It was Archer’s bark!” he exclaimed. “He must have followed me, and +now has started a deer from its favourite haunt in Cedar Swamp. Hark! +there he sounds his warning again, and never bugle of bold clansman +rang clearer over the braes o’ bonny Scotland. He is coming this way! +Forsooth! A bonny hunter am I with not a grain of powder in my horn, +and the last bullet sent on a fruitless errand after a wild bird. A +pretty kettle of fish is this for a McNiel!” + +Another cry from the hound at that moment, clearer, louder, nearer, +held his entire attention, and sent the warm blood tingling through his +veins. Far and wide over the valley rang the deep bass baying of the +hound, the wooded hills on either side catching up the wild sound, and +flinging it back and forth, until it seemed as if a dozen dogs were on +the heels of some poor hunted victim. + +The chase continued to draw swiftly nearer and nearer. As if the race +had become too earnest for it to keep up its running outcries, only an +occasional short, sharp cry came from the hound. Soon this too ceased, +and Norman was beginning to fear the chase was taking another course, +when the sharp report of a firearm awoke the silence. + +A howl from the hound quickly followed, while this was succeeded by a +more pitiful cry, and the furious crashing of bodies plunging headlong +through the thick undergrowth. + +Immediately succeeding the renewed baying of the hound, Norman became +aware of the sound of some one pushing his way rapidly through the +growth off to his right, and at an acute angle to the course being +taken by the deer. The next moment he was surprised to see a human +figure burst into the opening at the lower end of the cliff, apparently +making for the summit of Rock Rimmon. His surprise was heightened by +a second discovery swiftly following the first. The newcomer was an +Indian, carrying in his hand the gun with which he had shot at the deer. + +Seeing Norman, instead of approaching any nearer the cliff, the red man +abruptly changed his course, disappearing the next moment in the forest +with the Indian’s peculiar loping gait. + +“Christo, the last of the Pennacooks!” exclaimed Norman. “It was he who +fired the shot. I――” + +He was cut short in the midst of his speculation by the sudden +appearance of the hunted deer on the opposite side of the clearing. + +Though Rock Rimmon has a sheer descent of nearly a hundred feet on the +south, its ascent is so gradual on the north as to make it an easy feat +to reach its top. A growth of stunted pitch-pines grew to within fifty +yards of Norman’s standing place. The ledge was covered with moss in +spots, while here and there a scrubby oak found a precarious living. + +Although expecting to get a sight of the deer, as he imagined the +fugitive to be, Norman was still considerably surprised to see the +hunted creature bound out from the matted pines, and leap straight up +the rocky pathway! Close upon its heels followed the hound, no longer +keeping up its resonant baying. + +The fugitive deer seemed to have a purpose in pursuing this narrow +course, as it might have turned slightly to the right or left, and +escaped its inevitable fate on the cliff. The large, lustrous eyes, +glancing wildly around, saw nothing clearly. The blood was flowing +freely from its panting sides, and it was evident its strength was +nearly spent. To Norman, who had seen but a few of its kind, there was +a human expression in the soft light of its great, mournful eye, and +intuitively he shrank back, as he saw the doomed creature approaching. + +In its fatal alarm the terrified animal had not seen him. In fact it +seemed to see nothing in its pathway,――not even the precipice cutting +off further retreat. As if preferring death by a mad leap over the +chasm, it sped to the very brink without checking the speed of its +flying feet! Norman held his breath with a feeling of horror at the +inevitable fate of the poor creature. The hound, as if realising the +desperate strait to which it had driven its prey, stopped. Then, with +a last mournful glance backward, and a sharp cry of pain and despair, +the deer sprang out over the dizzy brink, its beautiful form sinking +swiftly upon the stony earth at the foot of Rock Rimmon! + +[Illustration: “THE DEER SPRANG OUT OVER THE DIZZY BRINK.”] + + + + + CHAPTER II. + + THE WOODRANGER AND THE DEER REEVE. + + +So sudden and strange was the leap to death of the hunted deer, that +Norman McNiel stood for a moment stupefied by a sense of horror at +the strange sight. The hound, a magnificent animal, as if sharing its +master’s feeling with an added shame for the part it had taken in the +matter, crept to his side, and sank silently upon the rock at his feet. + +“He escaped you, Archer,” said the young master, patting the dog on its +head, “and me, too, for that matter. But I cannot see that either was +to blame. The poor creature met his fate bravely.” + +Then, to satisfy himself that the deer was really killed, he approached +to the extremity of the cliff, and peered into the depths below. He +discovered, at his first glance, the mutilated form of the creature. +There could be no doubt of its death. The sound of footsteps at that +instant arrested his attention. Looking from the shapeless body of +the deer, he saw two men pushing their way through the dense growth +skirting the bit of clearing at the foot of the ledge. + +The foremost of the newcomers was an entire stranger to him, though he +guessed that he belonged to the Tyng colonists, who had settled below +the falls. He wore a suit of clothes made from the coarse homespun +cloth so common among the Massachusetts men, and his firearm was of the +English pattern usually carried by them. He was not much, if any, over +thirty years of age, with a countenance robbed of its slight share of +good looks by a stubble of reddish beard. + +His companion, whom Norman remembered as having seen once or twice the +previous season, was several years the senior of the other, and of +altogether different appearance. He was clad in a well-worn suit of +buckskin, the frills on the leggins badly frayed from long contact with +the briars and brushwood of the forest. His feet were encased in a pair +of Indian moccasins, while he wore on his head a cap of fox skin, with +the tail of the animal hanging down to the back of his neck. Though +bronzed by long exposure to the summer sun and winter wind, scarred by +wounds, and rendered shaggy by its untrimmed beard, his face bore that +stamp of frank, honest simplicity which was sure to win for the man +the respect and confidence of those he met. The silver streaks in the +hair falling in profusion about his neck told that he was passing the +prime of life. Still there was great strength in the long, muscular +limbs, and, while he moved generally with a slow, shuffling gait, he +was capable of astonishing swiftness of movement whenever it was called +for. + +He showed his natural instinct as a woodsman by the noiseless way in +which he emerged from the forest, in marked contrast to the slouching +steps of his companion. Stuck in his belt could be seen the handle of a +serviceable knife, while he carried a heavy, long-barrelled rifle of a +pattern unknown in this vicinity at that time. The weapon showed that +it had seen long and hard service. + +Norman was about to speak to him, when the other exclaimed, in the tone +of one announcing an important discovery: + +“Look there, Woodranger! if you want to believe me. It’s the critter +that got the shot we heerd, and it’s a deer as I told ye. A shot out o’ +season, too, mind ye, Woodranger. Ef I could clap my eyes on the fool +he’d walk to Chelmsford with me to-morrer, or I ain’t deer reeve o’ +this grant o’ Tyng Township, honourably and discreetly ’p’inted by the +Gineral Court o’ the Province o’ Massachusetts.” + +“It seems to me, Gunwad,” said his companion, speaking in a more +deliberate tone, as he advanced to the deer’s mutilated form, “that the +creetur must have taken a powerful tumble over the rock hyur. I reckon +a jump off’n Rock Rimmon would be nigh ’bout enough to stop the breath +o’ most any deer.” + +“What made the deer jump off’n the rock, Woodranger? It was thet air +dog at its heels! And ef there ain’t a hunk o’ lead in the critter +big ernough to send the man thet fired it to Chelmsford I’ll eat the +carcass, hoofs, horns, and, hide.” + +With these words he bent over the still warm body of the deer, and +began a diligent search for some sign of the wound supposed to have +been made by the shot. + +Woodranger dropped the butt of his rifle upon the ground, and stood +leaning on its muzzle, while he watched with curious interest the +proceeding of his companion. + +Gunwad’s search was not made in vain, for a minute later he held up +between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, which was reeking +with blood from its contact with the dead deer, the bullet he had hoped +to find. + +“What do you think of it now?” he demanded, showing by his tone and +manner that he was highly pleased with his discovery. “What do ye call +thet?” + +“I suppose it would require no great knowledge o’ warfare to pronounce +it a bullet,――leastways a pellet o’ lead fit for the weepon o’ a red. +It was never the bullet o’ a white man’s gun. But that does not enter +into the question. That bullet was not the death o’ this deer.” + +“You’re talking at random now. Mebbe it didn’t kill the deer, but ef +the dog hadn’t driven the critter over the rock, thet lead would hev +fixed it for salting.” + +“I’m not so sure o’ that, friend Gunwad. If you’ll look a leetle cluser +you’ll see that the bullet didn’t touch any vital. It sort o’ slewed +up’ards and side――” + +“Much has thet got to do erbout it!” broke in Gunwad, beginning to show +anger. “I shall begin to think ye air consarned in the matter. Fust ye +say it wasn’t the bullit o’ a white man, and I should like to know what +cause ye hev for saying thet.” + +“It was never run by any mould,” replied Woodranger, calmly, as he took +the bullet in his hand; “it was hammered out.” + +“Say!” exclaimed Gunwad, suddenly changing the drift of the +conversation, “Ye’re a sharp one, Woodranger. They say ye’re the best +guide and Injun trailer in the two provinces. Help me fasten this +bizness on that Injun at the Falls, and I’ll gin ye the best pair o’ +beaver skins ye ever sot eyes on for years.” + +“You mean Christo,” said the other. + +“I reckon he’s the only red left in these parts, and ’arly riddance to +him! Jess show thet is an Injun bullit, and I’ve settled his ’count, +sure’s one and one make two.” + +“That savours too much o’ wanton killing, Gunwad. I ain’t no special +grudge ag’in this Christo, though it may be I have leetle fellowship +for the race. There be honest men, for all I can say, among the +dusky-skins, and Christo may be one o’ ’em. At any rate till I ketch +him in red devilryment I’m not going to condemn him. Ah, Gunwad, I ’low +I live by the chase, and if I do say it, who has no designment to boast +o’ the simple knack o’ drawing bead on wildcat or painter, bear or +stag, Old Danger never barks at the same creetur but once; but he never +spits fire in the face o’ any creetur that can’t do more good by dying +than living.” + +“Look here, Woodranger!” exclaimed Gunwad, impatiently, “I can see +through yer logic. Ye air ag’in this law o’ protecting deer.” + +“I’m ag’in the law that’s ag’in man. ’Tain’t natur to fill the woods +with game, and then blaze the trees with notices not to tech a creetur. +Mind you, I’m ag’in wanton killing, and him don’t live as can say I +ever drew bead on a deer out o’ pure malice. I have noticed that it’s +the same chaps as makes these laws as are the ones to resort to wanton +destruction. To kill jess for the fun o’ killing is wanton. It is the +great law o’ natur for one kind to war on another, the strong on the +weak, from the biggest brute to the smallest worm, and man wars on ’em +all. If he must do so, let there be as much fairness as is consistent +with human natur. No, I’m not a liker o’ the law that professes to +defend the helpless, but does it so the wanton slayer can get his glut +o’ slaughter in a fall’s hunt. I――” + +The Woodranger might have continued his rude philosophy much longer had +not a movement of the hound on the cliff attracted their attention, and +both men glanced upward to see, with surprise, Norman McNiel looking +quietly down upon them. + +“Hilloa!” exclaimed Gunwad, divining the situation at once, “here is +the deer slayer, or I’m a fool. Stand where ye air, youngster!” raising +his gun to his shoulder, as he spoke. + + + + + CHAPTER III. + + NORMAN MEETS HIS ENEMY. + + +“Don’t make any wanton move,” warned Woodranger. “If I’m not mistaken +the younker is one o’ the Scotch settlers on the river, and he’s a +likely lad, or I’m no jedge o’ human natur’.” + +“I jess want him to know he ain’t going to play Injun with me,” replied +Gunwad. Then, speaking in a louder key to Norman, he said: + +“Climb down hyur, youngster, and see thet ye air spry erbout it, for I +don’t think o’ spending the night in these woods.” + +“I will be with you in a moment,” said Norman, starting toward the west +end of the cliff, where he could descend with comparative ease. He had +overheard enough to understand that Gunwad would prove no friend to +him, though he did not realise the deer reeve’s full intent. + +“One o’ ’em condemned furriners!” muttered Gunwad. “I’d as soon snap +him up as thet copper-skin. Hi, there, youngster! be keerful how ye +handle thet shooting-iron,” as Norman inadvertently lifted the weapon +toward his shoulder in trying to avoid a bush. + +“You have nothing to fear, as it isn’t loaded. I――” + +“Isn’t loaded, eh?” demanded the deer reeve. “Let me take it.” + +Norman handed him the firearm, as requested, and then turned to look at +Woodranger, who was watching the scene in silence, with a look in his +blue eyes that it was difficult to read. + +“I reckon I’ve got all the evidence I shall need,” said Gunwad, after +hastily examining the gun. “You’ll need to go with me to Chelmsford, +youngster, to answer the grave charge of shooting deer out o’ season. +It’ll only cost ye ten pounds, or forty days’ work for the province. +Better have waited ernother day afore ye took yer leetle hunt!” + +“I have shot no deer, sir,” replied Norman. “Neither have I hunted +deer.” + +“Don’t make yer case enny wuss by trying to lie out o’ it. The +circumstances air all ag’in ye. Air ye coming erlong quiet like, or +shall I hev to call on Woodranger to help me?” + +“Where are you going to take me?” asked Norman, feeling his first real +alarm. “Grandfather will be worried about me if I go away without +telling him――” + +“Old man will be worrited, eh? O’ all the oxcuses to git out’n a bad +fix thet’s the tarnalest. D’ye hear thet, Woodranger?” + +Nettled by the words, Norman showed some of the spirit of the McNiels, +exclaiming sharply: + +“Sir, I have hunted no deer, shot no deer, and there is no reason why +you should make me prisoner. I have transgressed no law, as far as I +know.” + +“Ignerance is no excuse for breaking a law, youngster. The facts air +all ag’in ye. Ain’t this yer dog? and weren’t he chasing thet deer?” + +“He was chasing the deer, but surely you do not blame the hound for +doing what his natural instinct told him to do? To him all seasons are +as one, and the laws of man unknown.” + +“A good p’int, lad,” said Woodranger, speaking for the first time since +Norman had reached the foot of the cliff. + +“But it does not clear yer frills from the law made by honourable +law-makers and sanctioned by good King George,” retorted Gunwad, +angrily. “Ye ’low yer dog was chasing the deer?” + +“I have not said he was my dog, sir. He came to my house about a week +ago and would stay with us. I――” + +“’Mounts to the same as if he wus yers. I s’pose ye deny this is yer +gun and thet it’s as empty as a last year’s nutshell?” + +“The gun is mine, sir, and it is empty because I wasted my ammunition +on a hawk an hour since. I had no more powder with me.” + +“A story jess erbout in keeping with the other. Afore ye take up lying +fer a bizness I should ’vise ye to do a leetle practising. But I hev +got evidence ernough, so kem erlong without enny more palaver.” + +Norman saw that it would be useless to remonstrate with the obstinate +deer reeve, and he began to realise that he might have serious trouble +with him before he could convince him and his friends of his innocence. +Accordingly he hesitated before he said: + +“I am innocent of this charge, sir, but if you will allow me to go home +and tell sister and grandfather――” + +“Go home!” again broke in Gunwad, who had no respect for another’s +feelings. “If thet ain’t the coolest thing I ever heerd of. I s’pose +ye think I’m innercent ernough to let ye take yer own way o’ going +to Chelmsford to answer to the grave charge o’ shooting deer out +o’ season. Did ye ever see the match o’ thet consarned audacity, +Woodranger?” + +“It seems ag’in reason for me to think the lad means to play you +double, Gunwad,” said the Woodranger, deliberately. “It seems too bad +to put the lad to this inconvanience. I ’low, down ’mong ’em strangers +it’ll be a purty sharp amazement for him to prove his innercence, but +the lad’s tongue tells a purty straight story. I disbelieve he was +consarned in the killing o’ the deer.” + +“Oh, ho! so thet’s the way the stick floats with ye, Woodranger? Mebbe +ye know crossways, but Captain Blanchard has the name o’ being square +and erbove board in his dealings. Ye can go down ef ye wanter, jess to +show thet the deer jumped off’n the rock o’ its own free will. Ha, ha! +thet’s a kink fer ye to straighten.” + +“It would be easier done ’cording to my string o’ knots, than to fairly +prove the lad was to blame for its killing. I’ve heerd o’ deer jumping +off’n sich places out o’ a pure wish to end their days. Up north, some +years sence, I see, myself, an old sick buck march plumb down and sort +o’ throw hisself over a cliff o’ rock, where the leetle life left in +him was knocked flat. I was laying in ambushment for him, but seeing +the creetur’s intentions I jess waited to see what he would do. As I +have said afore, I do not believe in wanton killing, and deer, ’cording +to my mind, is next to the human family. This air rock has peculiar +’tractions for the low-spirited, and ther’ are them as say the ghost o’ +poor Rimmon haunts the place, and it ain’t so onreasonable in the light +o’ some other things.” + +Woodranger’s speech had reference to the legend current among the +Indians that a daughter of the mighty chief of the North, Chicorua, +once fell in love with a Pennacook brave; but her dusky lover proved +recreant to Rimmon, as the maiden was called, and she, unable to credit +the stories told of her betrothed, sought this locality by stealth to +learn if reports were true concerning him. Alas for her hopes! she was +soon only too well satisfied of their truthfulness, and, rather than +return to her home, in her grief and disappointment, she courted death +by leaping from this high rock. Hence the name Rock Rimmon. + +“How long has it been sence the Indian killer turned philosopher and +begun to preach?” demanded Gunwad, whose coarse nature failed to +appreciate the sentiments of his companion. + +“Let’s see,” said Woodranger, ignoring the other’s sneering words, “the +law ag’in killing deer will be off afore you get the lad tried. If I +remember right it was to last from the first day o’ January to the +first day o’ August, and it being now nigh about six o’clock on the +last day o’ July, there are only six hours or so left――” + +“What difference does thet make?” cried Gunwad, with increasing anger. +“Ef ye keep me hyur till to-morrow morning it’ll be the same. But I +ain’t trying the youngster. Ef he’ll kem erlong Squire Blanchard will +settle his ’count.” + +“And give you half the fine, I s’pose,” continued the imperturbable +Woodranger, with his accustomed moderation. + +“I shall ’arn it!” snapped the other. “But it’s ye making me more +trubble than he, Woodranger.” + +“I have a plan by which I may be able to more than even things with +you, Gunwad, as bad as I have been. What time will you start for +Chelmsford in the morning?” + +“An hour erfore sunup.” + +“Where do you think o’ taking the lad to-night?” + +“Down to Shepley’s.” + +“He’s away, and the women folks might object to having a deer slayer in +the house.” + +“I shall stay with him.” + +“They might object to you, too! But that ain’t neither here nor there. +I reckon the lad’s folks are going to be greatly consarned over his +disappearance, so I have been thinking it would be better to let him go +home now.” + +Gunwad was about to utter an angry speech, when the three were startled +by the ringing note of a bugle sounding sharply on the still afternoon +air. The first peal had barely died away before it was followed by two +others in rapid succession, louder, clearer, and more prolonged each +time. + +“It’s grandfather!” exclaimed Norman, excitedly. “There is something +wrong at home.” + + + + + CHAPTER IV. + + A PERILOUS PREDICAMENT. + + +“If I should agree to answer for the lad’s being on hand to-morrow +morning an hour afore sunup, would you let him go home till then?” +asked Woodranger, the calmest one of the three, continuing the subject +in his mind as if no interruption had occurred. + +As a matter of fact, Gunwad had been puzzling himself over the best +method to adopt in order to keep his prisoner safely until he could +deliver him over to the proper authorities. Of a cowardly, treacherous +nature, he naturally had little confidence in others. He believed the +youthful captive to be a dangerous person, knowing well the valour of +the McNiels, though he would not have acknowledged to any one that he +feared him. Woodranger’s proposition offered a way out of his dilemma +without compromising himself, in case it should fail. Accordingly he +asked, with an eagerness the woodsman did not fail to observe: + +“Would ye dare take the risk, Woodranger?” + +“In season and out I have a knack o’ following my words like a +deerhound on the track o’ a stag.” + +“I know it, Woodranger, so I hope ye won’t harbour enny feeling fer my +question. Ef ye say ye’ll hev the youngster on hand at Shepley’s at +sunrise, I shall let him be in yer hands. But, mind ye, I shall look to +ye fer my divvy in the reward if he’s not on hand.” + +“I will walk along with you, lad,” said the Woodranger, without +replying to Gunwad, who remained watching them as they started away, +muttering under his breath: + +“I s’pose it’s risky to let the youngster off in his care. Twenty-four +dollars ain’t to be picked up in these sand-banks every day, and I’m +sure of it if I get the leetle fool to Chelmsford. It’s a pity to let +sich a good fat deer go to waste, and I’ve a mind to help myself to as +much meat as I can carry off. It’s no harm, seeing the killing is done, +and I had no hand in it.” + +Glancing back as they were losing sight of Rock Rimmon, the Woodranger +saw the deer reeve carrying out his intention, and laughed in his +silent way. + +Norman was not only willing but glad to have the company of the +woodsman, whose fame he had heard so often mentioned by the settlers. +As soon as they were beyond the hearing of Gunwad, he thanked his +companion for his kindly intervention. + +“I have nary desire for you to mention it, lad. But if you don’t mind, +you may tell me what you can of this deer killing. It may be only a +concait o’ mine, but my sarvices may be desirable afore you get out’n +this affair. In that case it might be well for me to know the full +particulars.” + +“You are very kind, Mr.――Mr.――” + +“You may call me Woodranger, as the rest do. Time may have been when +I had another name, but this one suits me best now. If you have been +in these parts very long, you may have heard of me, though I trust +not through any malicious person. I ’low none o’ us are above having +enemies. But I can see that you are anxious to get home, so tell me in +a few words all you can about the deer.” + +“There is really little to tell, Mr. Woodranger. I was lying on the top +of Rock Rimmon when I heard Archer bark, and I felt sure he had started +a deer near Cedar Swamp. Soon after, I heard some one fire a gun. A +moment later I saw Christo, the friendly Indian, coming toward the +cliff, but at sight of me he turned and went the other way.” + +“So it was, as I thought, Christo who shot the deer. I’m sorry for +that. The poor fellow has enough to answer for to pacify those who are +determined to persecute him, simply because he is a red man. As if it +was not enough to see the last foot o’ territory belonging to his race +stripped from his tribe, and the last o’ his people driven off like +leaves before an autumn wind.” + +This speech, coming from one whom he had heard of as an Indian fighter, +seemed so strange to Norman that he exclaimed: + +“So you are a friend to the Indians! I supposed you hated them.” + +“We are all God’s critters, lad, and I hate not even the lowest. Though +it has been my fortune to be pitted ag’inst the dusky varmints in some +clus quarters, I never drew bead on an Injun with a wanton thought. +Mebbe on sich ’casions as Lovewell’s fight, where the blood of white +and red ran ankle deep, and that Injun fiend, bold Paugus―― Hark! +there’s the horn ag’in! Your kin must be anxious about you. Ha! how the +old bugle awakes old-time memories. But don’t let me hinder you. I will +meet you by the river to-morrer morning at sunrise, when we can start +for Chelmsford. By the way, I wish you wouldn’t say anything about +Christo until I think it best.” + +Without further loss of time, Norman darted away from the Woodranger in +a course which soon brought him in sight of the river. + +On the opposite bank of the stream the young refugee discovered his +grandfather, still holding to his lips the horn which was awakening the +wild-wood with its clear notes, as in years long since past it had +rung over the hills and vales of his native land. At sight of Norman the +aged bugler quickly removed his beloved instrument from his bearded +lips, and while the echoes of the horn died slowly away he watched the +approach of his grandson, who had pulled a canoe out from a bunch of +bushes on the river bank and began his laborious trip across the rapid +stream. + +In the years of his vigorous manhood Robert MacDonald must have been a +typical Highlander of Bonnie Scotland. As he stood there on the bank of +the river, in the shifting light of the setting sun, his thin, whitened +locks tossed in the gentle breeze, and his spare form half supported by +a stout staff, he looked like one of the patriarchs of old appearing in +the midst of that wild-wood scene. If the passage of time had left deep +tracks across a brow once lofty and white as snow, if the lines about +the mouth had deepened into wrinkles and the loss of teeth allowed an +unpleasant compression of the lips, his clear blue eyes had lost little +if any of their old-time lustre. His face kindled with a new fire, as +he watched the approach of Norman. + +“He’s a noble laddie, every inch o’ him!” he mused, falling deeper +into his native dialect as he continued: “Weel, alack an’ a day, why +should he no be a bonnie laddie wi’ the bluid o’ the MacDonalds an’ +McNiels coorsin’ thro’ his veins. Shame upon the ane wha wud bring +dishonour tae sic a fair name. He has nane o’ his faither’s weakness. +He’s MacDonald, wi’ the best o’ the McNiel only. Hoo handy he is wi’ +the skim-shell o’ a craft that looks ower licht tae waft a feather ower +the brawlin’ burn.” + +“What can be the matter, grandfather, that you are so excited?” asked +Norman, as he ran the canoe upon the sandy bank and leaped out. + +“It’s the wee lassie. She left me awhile since tae look for the geese, +an’ she hasna cum back. She’s been awa a lang time.” + +“I would not worry, grandfather. You know the geese have an inclination +to get back to their kind at old Archie’s. But I will lose no time in +going to help Rilma fetch them home.” + +“Dae sae, my braw laddie, for I’m awfu’ shilly the day. I canna tell +thee it was a catamount’s cry, but it did hae the soond tae my auld +ear. But dinna credit ower muckle an auld man’s ears, which dinna +hear sae clear as on the day the redcoats mowed doon the auld clan at +Glencoe.” + +At the mention of the word “catamount” Norman felt a sudden fear. He +knew that a pair of the dreaded creatures had been seen in the vicinity +several times of late, and that the presence of the geese would be +likely to call them from their skulking-places in the dense forest +skirting the few log houses near by. So leaving his aged relative to +follow at his leisure, he bounded up the path leading to the house. +Thinking of his empty gun, he was anxious to get a new supply of powder +before putting himself in the pathway of any possible danger. + +All of the dwellings of Tyng Township were of the most primitive +character. There being no sawmill on the river at that period, the +houses were built of hewn or unhewn logs, as the fancy or capacity +for work of the owner dictated. The MacDonald cottage was smaller +than the average, but the logs making its four walls had been hewn +on the inside. The building was low-storied, and had small openings +or loop-holes for windows, over which small mats of skins had been +arranged to stop the apertures whenever it was desired. Originally the +space of the building had been divided into only two apartments on the +lower floor, but one of these had been subdivided, so there were two +sleeping-rooms, one for Rilma and another for Mr. MacDonald, besides +the living room, on the first floor. Norman occupied the unfinished +loft for his bedchamber. Some of the houses of Tyng Township, or Old +Harrytown, as it was quite as frequently called, had no floor, but +in this hewn logs embedded in the sand and cemented along the seams +or cracks afforded a solid foundation. A stone chimney at one end +carried off the smoke from the wide-mouthed fireplace, which added a +cheerfulness as well as genial warmth in cold weather to the primitive +dwelling. + +The furnishing of this typical frontier house was in keeping with its +surroundings. The kitchen, or room first entered, which served as +sitting-room, parlour, dining-room, and living apartment, was supplied +with a three-legged table, a relic of ancient days that had been the +gift of a neighbour, two old chairs which had been repaired from +some broken ones, while a rude bench answered for a third seat. In +one corner was an iron-bound chest, which had been the only piece of +furniture, if it deserved that name, that had been brought from their +native land. It held the plain wardrobes of the three. Hanging to the +sooty crane in the fireplace was an iron pot, while in a niche in the +rocky wall was a pewter pot, a frying-pan, and a skillet. In another +small opening cut higher in the side of the building reposed the scanty +supply of household utensils, a couple of pewter spoons, two wooden +spoons, three knives, a couple of broken cups, a pewter dipper, and +three wooden forks, with four rude plates made from two thicknesses of +birch bark. There was also a small earthen pot. + +Over the fireplace, hung on pegs driven in the chinks of the logs, was +a long-barrelled musket of Scottish pattern, whose bruised stock and +dinted iron bespoke hard usage. This was the weapon Robert MacDonald +had carried in the desperate fight at Glencoe, when his clan had +been completely routed by the English. Near by hung a powder-horn, +grotesquely carved like an imp’s head, and in close companionship was +a bullet-pouch. Near it was another peg, the usual resting-place of +an even more highly prized relic than any of these ancient pieces of +property, namely, the bugle with which the old Highlander had called +home the truant Norman. + +The room, though rudely furnished, bore every trace of neatness and +thrift, with an air of comfort in spite of its simple environments. +The rough places in the walls were concealed by wreaths of leaves and +ferns, and the table was bordered with a frill made of maple leaves +knit together by their stems. On a shelf, made of pins driven into +the wall, lay three books, one of them a volume of hymns, the second +a collection of Scottish songs and ballads, while the third was a +manuscript book of records of the Clan MacDonald, with some added notes +of the McNiels. + +The door was made by four small poles fastened together at the corners +with wooden pins and strings cut from deer hide, the whole covered with +a bear skin carefully tanned and the fur closely trimmed. + +In his anxiety to go in search of Rilma, Norman did not stop to +replenish his horn from the general supply of powder, but snatched +that of his grandfather from its peg, and, loading his gun as he went +along, left the house. + +His home was near a small tributary of the Merrimack, which joined the +main stream a short distance below the falls. The house stood a short +distance back from what was considered the main road of the locality, a +regularly laid out highway running from Namaske to the adjoining town +of Nutfield or Londonderry, and following an old Indian trail. This +road also led, a short distance (half a mile) above the falls, past two +or three dwellings, to a more spacious log house which was the home +of another Scottish family by the name of Stark. Archibald Stark, the +head of this household, was a fine representative of his race, and he +and his beautiful wife, with their seven children, four boys and three +girls, were a typical frontier family, cheerful, rugged, hospitable, +and progressive. + +As the geese which had caused Rilma to leave her home had been the gift +of Bertha Stark, the oldest daughter of the family, Norman hurried +toward the home of these people, never doubting but he should find +Rilma loitering there to continue some girlish gossip. + +Soon after crossing the brook, however, his sharp eyes discovered fresh +footprints in the soft earth near the bank of the stream and along a +path leading to a small pond in the brook, where the water had been +held back by a dam of fallen brushwood. He was sure the tracks had been +made by Rilma. + +“The geese have got away from her and gone to the Pool,” he concluded. +“I shall find her there. Better still, by waiting here I can head off +the foolish geese from going back to their old home, as they will be +pretty sure to do.” + +He had barely come to this conclusion, when he was startled by a loud +squawk, quickly followed by a scream. + +Something was wrong! He bounded along the narrow pathway toward the +scene, while the outcries continued with increasing volume. + +Meanwhile Rilma, having been obliged to go quite to Mr. Stark’s house +to find her truants, was returning with them, as Norman had imagined, +when, on reaching the path leading to the little pond, the contrary +creatures darted toward the Pool with loud cries. She followed, but not +swift enough to stop the runaways. + +The geese had gained the bank of the little pond, and she was following +a few yards behind them, when a dark form sprang from a thicket +bordering the pathway, and seized the foremost goose. + +Thinking at first it was a dog attacking her geese, Rilma called out +sharply to the brute, as she bounded toward the spot. But a second +glance showed her not a dog but a big wildcat! + +Nothing daunted by this startling discovery, the brave girl flourished +the stick she carried in her hand and ran to defend the poor goose. +So furiously did she rain her blows about the wildcat’s head that it +dropped its prey and sprang upon her! With one sweep of its paw it tore +the stout dress from her shoulder and left the marks of its cruel claws +in her flesh. But the squawking goose, fluttering about on the ground, +seemed a more tempting bait for the wildcat, which abandoned its attack +on Rilma and sprang again on the goose. + +Flung to the ground by the fierce assault of the beast, Rilma quickly +regained her feet, and, seeing her favourite goose in deadly danger, +she again attempted its rescue, although the blood was flowing in a +stream from the wound in her shoulder. It was at this moment that +Norman appeared on the scene. + +Rilma and the catamount were engaged in too close a combat for him to +shoot the creature without endangering her life, so he shouted for her +to retreat, as he rushed to her assistance. But it was now impossible +for her to do that. Having torn her dress nearly from her, and aroused +at the sight of the blood flowing so freely, the enraged beast was +in the act of fixing its terrible teeth in Rilma’s body, when Norman +pushed the muzzle of the gun into the wildcat’s mouth, and pulled the +trigger. + +A dull report followed, and the catamount fell over dead. Norman was +about to bear Rilma, who was now unconscious from pain and fright, away +from the place, when a terrific snarl rang in his ears from over his +head! Looking up, he saw to his horror a second wildcat, mate to the +other, lying on the branch of an overhanging tree, and in the act of +springing upon him! + + + + + CHAPTER V. + + JOHNNY STARK. + + +Norman McNiel did not possess an excitable nature, and his thoughts did +not flow with that acute swiftness so common to some persons, but he +more than made up for this by a clearer comprehension of matters. The +sight of the wildcat, preparing to give its fatal spring, did not rob +him of his presence of mind, though he realised that in a hand-to-hand +encounter with the brute he was likely to become its victim. Still, +the possibility of deserting Rilma was something he did not for a +moment consider. He would defend her until the last. Accordingly, as +the second growl of the aroused animal grated harshly on his ears, he +caught his gun by its barrel and stood ready to use it as a club. + +Then the long tail of the creature lashed its sides, and its lissom +form shot toward him like a cannon ball. But, as the wildcat left its +perch, there was a flash so near Norman’s head that he was almost +blinded, and the report of a firearm rang out. Another and louder +growl came from the catamount, as it fell at his feet in the throes of +death. + +“Look out she don’t get her claws on you!” cried a voice at his elbow, +a warning Norman quickly obeyed, pulling Rilma away with him. + +“She dies hard,” affirmed the newcomer, advancing to the side of +Norman, “but I reckon that lead was run for her. If I had been a minute +later you would have had a tussle old Woodranger himself might not have +cared for.” + +The speaker, who made this remark with the unconcern and cool criticism +of a man with years of experience as a hunter, was in reality but a boy +of eleven years of age, though as large as the majority are at thirteen +or fourteen. He was not prepossessing in his looks. His countenance +was marred by a beaked nose and chin inclined to meet it, while his +skin was abundantly tattooed with freckles, and his coarse hair verged +on an unhappy reddish hue. But the dark blue eyes redeemed somewhat +the plainness of the other features, and his independent, perfect +self-control of spirit more than made up for the slight Dame Nature +had given him in other respects. He was familiarly called Johnny or +Jack Stark by his playmates and companions, and he afterward became the +celebrated General Stark, the hero of Bennington. + +“You are right, Johnny,” exclaimed Norman, “and if your hand had not +been steady and eye true neither Rilma nor I would ever have lived to +thank you for your coming. Poor lassie! I fear she has been――no! She +opens her eyes,――she lives! You have no more to fear, dear sister; they +are both dead. Don’t move if it hurts you. Jack and I will carry you +home.” + +Though not inclined to show deep emotion, Norman exhibited great joy at +the returning consciousness of Rilma, whom he loved with all the tender +regard of one who feels that another is all the world to him. Gently +he placed the tattered dress about the bleeding form and with his hand +wiped away the blood from the wounds made by the wildcat. + +“Old Mother Hester!” cried Rilma, quickly gaining her feet, “did the +horrid creature kill her?” + +Norman understood that “Mother Hester” was the name she had given +to the poor goose, whose mangled body, torn and lacerated beyond +recognition, lay a short distance away. + +“She is dead, Rilma, but let us be thankful that you, too, were not +killed. If I had been a minute later you would have been overpowered by +the fearful cat, and then Jack saved us both from the other. But they +are dead, and we have no more to fear from them.” + +Although grieved over the loss of her favourite goose, Rilma felt +thankful that she had escaped with even the dreadful scratches of the +wildcat, none of which had been very deep. + +“I can walk, dear brother; and I want to get away from this place as +soon as possible. Jack will look after the other goose for us.” + +Taking the hint, Norman led her gently along the path, saying as he did +so: + +“Won’t you come with us, Jack?” + +“I think I will, Norman, as I have something I want to say to you as +soon as you feel like hearing it. I was on my way to your house when +I heard your shot, and hurried to your assistance. I will make myself +useful, too, by carrying home the body of the dead goose and driving +the other along. Some one can come up and look after the wildcats +later.” + +“You are very thoughtful, Jack, as well as brave. I do not believe +there is another boy of your age who could have shot that wildcat as +you did.” + +“You say that because you do not know Rob Rogers. He shot a big black +bear, that was nosing around his father’s house, when he was only +seven, and you know I am almost eleven. Robby, since he has begun to +go with Woodranger, has become a mighty hunter, and he’s only fourteen +now.” + +The conversation was checked at this point by the appearance of Mr. +MacDonald, who had heard the firing and was greatly excited over the +affair. + +“Oh, my bairns!” he cried, “hoo gled I am tae find that ye hae na +been―― Why, my wee lassie! What hae they been doing to ye?” + +Norman gave a brief account of the encounter with the wildcats, his +grandfather catching up Rilma in his arms and bearing her toward +the house as he finished, forgetful of his infirmities. The old +Highlander sobbed like a child at intervals, while alternately he would +burst forth into expressions of endearment and thankfulness in his +picturesque speech. + +Seeing that Rilma was being cared for, Norman started back to help +Johnny Stark find the surviving goose, which was found skulking in the +bushes nearly frightened to death. Catching it after some trouble, +Norman carried it homeward in his arms, while Johnny bore the body of +its dead mate. + +“I will get father to send Goodman Roberts to look after the carcasses +of the wildcats, as soon as I get home,” said the latter, as he walked +at the heels of Norman, the path being too narrow at places for a +couple to walk abreast. “What I wanted to speak to you about,” he +continued, “was the canoe match which is talked of to take place on +the river next month. You know three Scotch boys are to race against +three English boys. Brother Bill and Robby Rogers have been chosen to +represent our side, and we want another. We have spoken to father +about it, and he agrees with us that you are the one. Now will you do +it?” + +“Of course I am willing to do anything I can, but I am afraid I have +not had as much practice as I need. You know I have not been here as +long as the rest of you, though nothing suits me better than a paddle +on the water.” + +“You’ll have over a month in which to practise. I’ll risk you, and +so will the others. I understand John Goffe is to be one of their +crew, though no one seems to know who the others will be. Johnny is a +good one with the paddles, but he is nowhere with Rob. Bill will beat +anybody else they can get, and with you to help our side will be safe.” + +“You mustn’t be overconfident, Johnny, but if I take hold I will do the +best I can.” + +By the time they had reached the house Norman had decided to accept the +invitation to take part in the canoe match, and Johnny Stark, having +performed his errand successfully, lost no further time in running home +to tell the good news. + +Mr. MacDonald dressed Rilma’s wounds as best he could, with the simple +means at his command, though she bravely declared that she did not +suffer any pain. + +It was then getting to be quite dark, and, lighting his corn-cob pipe, +Mr. MacDonald took his favourite position in the doorway to smoke and +meditate over the events of his checkered life. These had ever been +hallowed occasions to Norman and Rilma, who had sat at his feet for +many an hour listening to the pathetic tales of which he seemed to have +no end. In these twilight talks they had heard him tell over and over +again, until every word was familiar to them, the stories of the fate +of the brave MacDonalds in the Pass of Glencoe, and the downfall of the +last of the McNiels. + +On this evening Rilma had lain down on her simple couch for rest and +release from the pain of her wounds, so that Norman was alone with his +grandfather. + +“Ha, ma laddie!” broke in Mr. MacDonald. “Ye’re that glum ye dinna seem +like yersel’ the nicht. Trouble na ower the few scratches o’ a cat, the +bonnie lassie wull sune be hersel’,” he continued, attributing Norman’s +silence to thoughts of Rilma. + +“I must confess, grandfather, I was not thinking of poor Rilma, though +I ought to be ashamed to own it. I was thinking of a little affair +which happened this afternoon, and how best I could break it to you. I +would have spoken of it before, but I did not wish to arouse Rilma’s +fears.” + +With the characteristic reserve of his nature, the old Highlander +removed his pipe from his lips without speaking, signifying as plainly +by his silence as he might have done by words his desire for an +explanation. At a loss how to begin, Norman hesitated for a time, the +only sound heard above the steady roar of Namaske being the mournful +cries of a whippoorwill in the direction of Rock Rimmon, until finally +he gave a detailed account of his arrest by Gunwad for hunting deer out +of season. + +“Ha, ma laddie!” exclaimed his grandfather, when he had finished. “Ye +dinna want tae be low-speerited wi’ anxiety ower that, though it does +look a bit squally for ye. I’m gled ye telt the auld man, for noo he’ll +ken just hoo tae trim his licht. Then, tae, an auld man’s coonsel may +na cum amiss wi’ a young heid.” + +“Grandfather, I had no more to do with hunting or killing that deer +than you did.” + +“In intent, my braw laddie. But ye maun remember I never crossed the +brawlin’ stream. But avaunt wi’ sic nonsense! It behooves us tae see +what can be dune for ye, noo ye hae fa’en in the net.” + +“Can they do anything with me, grandfather? Woodranger bade me be +hopeful.” + +“Wha is this Woodranger, laddie, that ye speak sae freely o’? I dinna +ken but I may hae heard the name afore.” + +“He is a man who lives by hunting and scouting, grandfather. During the +Indian troubles he did great service to the families who were molested +by the red men, and everybody seems to like him. He has been all over +the country, and he is very friendly to me.” + +“Is he Scotch, laddie? That maks a’ the difference in the warld in this +affair.” + +“I am not sure, though I should say he is. He seems very honest.” + +“Hoot! awa wi’ yer nonsense if ye canna tell an Englishman frae a +Scotchman. Let me but get my auld een on him an’ I’ll tell ye if he’s a +true laddie. What’s his name?” + +“Just what I told you, grandfather,――Woodranger. At least that is all +he would give me.” + +“A bit against him, laddie. But allooin’ he is yer freend, I am a bit +feart ye’re nae pleasant fixed. This Gunwad ye say is an Englishman?” + +“I have no doubt of that. I can see that this foolish feeling between +the colonists is going to be against me.” + +“Ah, ma laddie, that’s whaur the shoe grips! Every Englishman, wumman, +and bairn looks on us as intruders, as they dae every Presbyterian, wha +they hate waur than wildcats. I see noo I did mak’ a bit o’ a mistak’ +in droppin’ here, but auld Archie Stark thocht it was best for us. I +dinna ken whaur this misunderstandin’ is gaen tae end. Seems tae me it +will be the destruction o’ baith pairties. But dinna ye lat this little +maitter cum intae yer dreams, my laddie. Sleep gie’s ane a clear heid, +an’ it’s a clear heid ye’ll need the morn amang the Britishers at +Chelmsford.” + +Taking this hint, Norman, after having seen that Rilma was as +comfortable as could be expected, sought his humble couch under the +rough rafters of his pioneer home. + + + + + CHAPTER VI. + + THE MAN WHO KNEW IT ALL. + + +After a restless sleep Norman was astir an hour before sunrise. His +grandfather was already up and preparing a breakfast for him. + +“You maun eat, ma laddie. It seems unco’ that ye maun gang tae meet +thae Britishers alane. I fain wad gang wi’ ye.” + +“That cannot be, grandfather. It would not do to leave Rilma here +alone. Never fear but I shall come back safely.” + +As soon as he had eaten hastily of the plain meal, Norman kissed Rilma +and taking his gun started to leave the house. + +“If the lassie disna mind, I’ll walk wi’ ye tae the river’s bank,” said +his grandfather. “I’ll nae be gane lang, lassie, so hae nae fear.” + +Norman felt that his grandfather’s real object in accompanying him was +to get a look, if possible, at the Woodranger, who was expected to meet +him on the river bank. But nothing of the kind was said until they came +in sight of the stream, when they discovered the forester already on +hand. He had crossed over to the east bank, and at sight of Norman said: + +“I am glad you are so promptly here, lad; it shows a good mark to be +prompt. It always pays to be prompt. As we shall have to go down on +this side, I thought I would come over and save――” + +Woodranger, with a sudden change in his demeanour unusual to him, +stopped in the midst of his speech, to fix his gaze closely on the old +Highlander. The latter was eyeing him no less intently. Anxious to +break the embarrassing silence, Norman said, quickly: + +“My grandfather, Woodranger. He felt so anxious about me that he has +come down to see me fairly started.” + +“So yo’ air Woodranger?” asked Mr. MacDonald, as if such a thing was +not possible, while shifting looks of doubt, curiosity, fear, and +confidence crossed his features. The forester soon recovered his wonted +composure, replying to the other’s interrogation: + +“Men call me that, MacDonald. I have heerd o’ you, and I’m glad to meet +you. I hope you have no undue consarn over the lad.” + +“Th’ laddie is puir, Woodranger,” cried the old man, putting aside +further reserve and grasping the forester’s hand. “Yo’ll hel’ him out +o’ this trouble?” + +“He shall not lack for a friend. I trust the lad will have no great +difficulty. Where is the dog, lad?” + +“Gone, Woodranger, but I do not know where. I thought perhaps Gunwad +took him with him. I did not see him after I met you.” + +“I see him sneaking through the woods as if he had committed some +grievous misdeed, but thought he might be pulling home.” + +“Ye’re no in sympathy wi’ thae Britishers?” asked Mr. MacDonald at this +juncture. + +“Nay, old man; I’m neutral. It is a foolish quarrel and no good can +come o’ it.” + +“Neutral!” exclaimed the old Highlander, to whom, with his stubborn, +aggressive nature, such a thing seemed impossible, and then a new shade +of misapprehension came over his countenance, as he scrutinised the +ranger’s rifle. + +“A French weapon!” he exclaimed. “Nae guid can come o’ a man’s bein’ +neutral an’ a-carryin’ a French gun.” + +“We are in luck, lad,” said Woodranger, ignoring the last speech of +Mr. MacDonald. “I l’arned last evening that Captain Blanchard had come +to Tyng Township yesterday, so I see him and he says you can be tried +without going to Chelmsford. That will save you twenty-five miles o’ +walking.” + +“I am glad of that!” exclaimed Norman, “and I hail it as a good omen. +Do you hear that, grandfather? I have not got to go to Chelmsford to +have my trial.” + +Mr. MacDonald only shook his head, seeming too much engrossed over the +appearance of the Woodranger to reply by words. + +“I don’t like to cut short any speech you wish to make to the old man, +lad, but it’s time we were on our way. A mile or more o’ the river has +run by sence we stopped here. It’s an ’arly start that makes an ’arly +end to the jarney. Good morning, Mr. MacDonald; have no undue consarn +over the lad.” + +Fully understanding the Woodranger’s anxiety to meet Gunwad promptly, +Norman hastily caught the hand of his grandfather, as he murmured his +good-bye, while the forester moved silently away. + +“I jest want to say a word to ye, ma laddie,” said Mr. MacDonald, in an +undertone. “I dinna ken whut to mak o’ this man ca’d Woodranger, but ye +canna be owre careful. He carries a French weapon, an’ is neutral in +a quarrel whin every true Scot shud stan’ by his colours. I dinna ken +what tae mak o’ the man.” + +With this dubious warning, which no words of Norman could shake, he +stood there watching the twain until their forms had disappeared in +the distance. Even then he hesitated about starting homeward. His +head continued to move back and forth, and his lips became tightly +compressed, as if fearful they might allow something to escape that he +was anxious to conceal. + +Tyng Township comprised a strip of territory three miles wide, and +extending six miles along the east bank of the river, so it was not +necessary for them to cross over. In fact, that would have necessitated +a return to that side before reaching their destination. After leaving +his home Norman saw but a few houses for some distance, the land being +little more than sand patches, and too poor to support a crop of any +kind. + +“I do not wonder it is called Old Harrytown,” Norman said, as he +noticed this, “and they say only the Old Harry could live here.” + +“Tyng’s men got a bad bargain when they got it,” said the Woodranger. +“Though it may be that they think more of the fish than the soil. They +be fat and plenty. The deer, too, are sleek; but they are fading away +with the red hunter. Sich be the great unwritten law that a man’s +associates must go with him.” + +They had not gone more than a mile before they were met by Gunwad, who +showed his satisfaction at seeing them. + +“Was afeerd th’ feller mought gin ye th’ slip, Woodranger.” + +The forester making no reply to this statement, the three walked on +in silence, the appearance of the deer reeve putting an end to all +conversation. + +Another mile down the stream they began to come in sight of the log +houses of the pioneers, who were trying under adverse circumstances +to found themselves homes in the new town. As they came in sight of +one of these typical homes, they saw a tall, cadaverous man mounted on +the top of a blackened log fence surrounding a cleared patch bordering +the house. He was bareheaded, and had no covering for his feet, save a +generous coating of dirt, and his lank body was clad in a coarse shirt, +made, by long contact with the earth, the colour of the soil, and a +pair of gray homespun trousers stopping short in their downward career +a little below the knees. As he sat there on his elevated perch, his +long arms were doubled akimbo over his knees, which stuck up sharp and +pointed. + +At first it looked as if his occupation was the watching of the +gyrations of one of his big toes, as it scraped back and forth on the +charred surface of the log, but a closer inspection showed that he was +gazing at a patch of broad-leaved plants looking suspiciously like that +much despised weed of lane and pasture, the mullein. But if so, it had +been cultivated with assiduous care, and had flourished like “the green +bay-tree” of the story-writer. + +At sight of our party he suddenly checked the movements of his toe, +his jaws stopped their rapid grinding, and he cried out in a shrill, +piping voice: + +“Hello, Ranger! Wot in creation is yer sweeping by fer like a falling +hemlock? Ain’t fergot an ol’ man in his weakness, hev ye?” + +“Not a forgit, Zack Bitlock, but as we have a lettle amazement with +’Squire Blanchard we wanted to be sure and get to him afore he should +leave for down the river. A fine morning.” + +“Mornin’s well ’nough; ’bout as ye air mind to look at yit. But it’s +pesky gloomy to me. Say, Ranger, I kalkilate ye mus’ be a tol’rable +good jedge o’ ’backer?” + +“Mebbe I know the leaf from dock root, though I can’t say as I’m much +o’ a jedge o’ the quality, Zack, seeing I never――” + +“Look a-here, Ranger! I want yer honest opine consarnin’ thet air +stuff,” pointing, as he spoke, to the rows of green, broad-leaved +plants adorning his primitive garden, and comprising most of its +contents. + +Approaching the fence, the Woodranger looked over, saying, after a +brief survey of the scene: + +“I see leetle but mullein, though I must say, while not claiming to be +an apt jedge in sich matters, it has made a good growth. How is it, +Zack, you give so much ’tention to raising sich useless truck, though +it be said it is excellent for cattle?” + +“It’s my gol-danged foolishness, Ranger, which made me spend my +valer’ble time raising sich truck. I ain’t got no cattle to feed it. +My ol’ woman ’lowed it was mullein a goodish spell ago, but I larfed +at her. An’ then, when I see thet she wuz right an’ I wuz wrong, like +the hog I wuz, I had to hol’ my mouth and keep on growing mullein! Gol +dang! To think, I, Zack Bitlock, in my sound mind an’ common sense, +sh’u’d be a-weedin’ out an’ prunin’ up an’ ’tendin’ mullein, thinkin’ +all th’ while ’twas ’backer!” + +“How did it happen, Zack?” asked Woodranger, who could not help +smiling at the look of utter disgust and shame on the other’s wrinkled +countenance. + +“It all kem o’ my blamed smartness! Ye see I figger yit out like this. +Joe Butterfield, he don’t pertend to know more’n other folks, an’ so +las’ year he kem to me an’ wanted to know what was th’ bes’ thing to +make taters grow. He had seed mine climbin’ like all creation, and +seein’ he wuz too blamed green to raise ennything but fun fer his +betters, I tole him th’ very bes’ thing was rotten hemlock, an’ to put +a chockin’ handful in each hill. Well, what did th’ dried-in-the-oven +fool do but follow my ’vice, only he put a double portion in each +hill, so as to beat me at my own game, I s’pose. I larfed to myself +all th’ while ’em taters didn’t stick up a top. Ye see th’ hemlock wuz +so durned dryin’ it jess baked the taters afore they c’u’d sprout. Joe +laid it to th’ seed, an’ I s’posed thet wuz the las’ o’ it, ’ceptin’ a +good stock o’ jokes I had laid in fer spare talk with Joe. + +“But I can see now th’ critter was sharper’n I ’lowed, an’ he mus’ hev +smelled a mice. So when I kem to ’quire fer backer plants he gin me +more’n I wanted. Leastways he give me what I s’posed wuz backer plants, +an’ now, drat my pictur’! ef I ain’t been ’tendin’ an’ nussin’ ’em +blamed ol’ mulleins, an’ a-workin’ my jaws all th’ while, thinkin’ what +a Thanksgivin’ I’d hev chowin’ th’ backer. Oh! th’ fool ingineuity o’ +some men!” + +Smiling at the evident disappointment and chagrin of Zack Bitlock, +Woodranger started on, when the other called out to him: + +“Say! seems to me ye hev got a smart start fer th’ shootin’-match.” + +“I can’t say that I’ve given the matter a thought, Zack. Been away +perambulating the forests for a good space o’ time.” + +“A shootin’-match, an’ ye not know yit, Ranger? I do vum! thet’s +amazin’. But there is to be a tall shoot at th’ Pines this mornin’. +Cap’en Goffe is to be there, an’ Dan Stevens; an’ I overheerd las’ +evenin’ Rob Rogers wuz to kem. Everybuddy’ll be on hand. Coorse ye’ll +go now, Ranger?” + +“Onsartain, Zack, onsartain. If we have time the lad and I may be +there. Good morning.” + +“Ye may be thar, Woodranger, an’ I see no reason w’y ye shouldn’t; but +with th’ youngster it’ll be different. I reckon he’ll be fur from hyur +then, ’less my plans miscarry,” said Gunwad, who had been silent. + +Without noticing this speech, the forester moved ahead at a rate of +speed which showed he was anxious to make up for the few minutes lost +in conversation with Goodman Bitlock. Norman kept close beside him, +while Gunwad, the deer reeve, followed at his heels. + +Zack Bitlock did not shift his position on the fence until he had +watched them out of sight, when he left his perch, exclaiming: + +“Blamed queer ef th’ ol’ Ranger is goin’ to er shoot an’ won’t own yit! +Thar’s sumthin’ afoot. But I’ll l’arn their dodge or I ain’t up to +shucks,” and without further delay he shuffled down the road after the +others. + + + + + CHAPTER VII. + + NORMAN’S TRIAL. + + +The destination of Norman and his companions was a small settlement at +the lower end of Tyng Township called Goffe’s Village, out of respect +to one of its foremost inhabitants, John Goffe, afterward known as +Colonel Goffe the Ranger. + +This little hamlet stood at the mouth of a small stream known as Cohas +Brook, which flowed into the Merrimack five miles below the Falls of +Namaske. + +Before reaching Goffe’s Village, Norman and his companions passed a +cross-road leading over the hill and toward the Scotch-Irish settlement +on the east. About a mile up this road, at a point called “The Three +Pines,” or “Chestnut Corners,” the shooting-match was expected to take +place during the forenoon. + +As Tyng Township was settled during an interval of peace, there was no +fort or garrison within its limits. Neither was there a public house +of any kind, so Norman must be tried at the house of one of the most +active inhabitants of the town, this having been arranged for by the +Woodranger. + +Somewhat to our hero’s surprise, several persons were gathered +about the house, as early as it was, and he knew by their looks and +low-spoken speeches that they had been watching for his coming. In +fact, though he did not know it, Gunwad had taken great pains to +circulate the story of his arrest, and had boasted loudly that his +trial would be worth attending. News of that kind travels fast, and, as +short as the time had been, quite a crowd had collected, some coming +several miles from the adjoining town, Londonderry, the former home of +the Scotch-Irish now in Harrytown. + +Among the others was a boy of fourteen, who attracted more than his +share of attention. His name was Robert Rogers, and he was destined +to be known within a few years, not only throughout New England but +the entire country, as chief of that famous band of Indian fighters, +“Rogers’s Rangers.” Already he was considered a crack shot with the +rifle, and the fleetest runner in that vicinity. A strong bond of +friendship bound him to the Woodranger, who had become his tutor in +the secrets and hidden ways of woodcraft. No doubt he owed much of his +future success to this early training. He was strongly and favourably +impressed by the appearance of Norman, and he said aside to a +companion: + +“He’s a likely youth; and mind you, Mac, if they are overhard with him +there’s going to be trouble,” an expression finding an echo in older +hearts there, though the others were more cautious in their utterances. + +“Hush, Robby!” admonished the boy’s friend; “say nothing rash. Captain +Blanchard has the credit of being an extremely fair man, and, withal, +one with a handy knack of getting out of a bad scrape easily. Here he +comes, as prompt as usual.” + +Norman was being led into the house by Gunwad, who had now assumed +charge of his prisoner. They were met at the door by a tall, rather +austere appearing man, whom our hero knew by the little he had +overheard was ’Squire Blanchard. + +“You are promptly on hand, Goodman Gunwad,” said the latter; “come +right in this way,” escorting the little party into the house, which +was more commodious than most of the dwellings. + +The deer reeve frowned at the salutation of Captain Blanchard, for +it did not please him. Notwithstanding the simplicity of those +times, a stronger class feeling existed than is known to-day. As a +distinguishing term, the expression “Mister,” which we apply without +reserve or distinction, was given only to those who were looked upon +as in the upper class, “Goodman” being used in its place when a person +of supposed inferior position was addressed. The cause for Gunwad’s +vexation is apparent, as he aspired to rank higher than a “Goodman.” +But he thought it policy to conceal his chagrin, though no doubt it +made him more irritable in the scenes which followed. + +At the same time that the prisoner was led into the house by his +captor, a small group of men, in the unmistakable dress of the +Scotch-Irish, and headed by a tall, bony young man named John Hall, +gathered about the door. + +Woodranger nodded familiarly to these stern-looking men, but before +entering the house he turned to speak to a medium-sized man, with the +air of a woodsman and the breeding of a gentleman about him. He was +none other than Captain Goffe, who, while he did not belong to the Tyng +colony, was living in the midst of these men. It is safe to say that he +was on friendly terms with every person present, or who might be there +that day. The spectators, noticing this brief consultation between the +forester and the soldier-scout, nodded their heads knowingly. + +’Squire Blanchard then put an end to all conversation by saying: + +“I understand this is your prisoner whom you charge with killing deer +out of season, Goodman Gunwad?” + +“He is, cap’en.” + +“Are your witnesses all here?” + +“All I shall need, I reckon.” + +“Are your witnesses here, prisoner?” + +“I have none, sir.” + +“Then, unless objection is raised by the prisoner or the complainant, +the case will be opened without further delay. I think there is a +little matter several are anxious to attend to,” alluding to the +forthcoming shooting-match. + +“Th’ sooner th’ better, cap’en,” said Gunwad, showing by his appearance +that he was well pleased. “I reckon it won’t take long to salt his +gravy.” + +“I understand you charge this young man, whose name I believe is +McNiel――” + +“A son, cap’en, of thet hated McNiel――” + +“Silence, sir, while I am speaking!” commanded ’Squire Blanchard. “You +charge this Norman McNiel with shooting deer out of season?” + +“I do, sir.” + +“You will take oath and then describe what reason you have for +considering the prisoner guilty.” + +As soon as he had been properly sworn Gunwad went on to describe in +his blunt, rough way how he had been attracted to Rock Rimmon by a +gun-shot. Upon reaching the spot he had found a dead deer there, while +the prisoner and his dog were the only living creatures that he saw in +the vicinity. The youth’s gun was empty, and he acknowledged his hound +had started and followed the deer. + +“I knowed the youngster o’ a furriner,” he concluded, “as the boy +livin’ with thet ol’ refugee o’ a MacDonald at the Falls, so I lost no +time in clappin’ my hands on him.” + +These allusions to Norman’s father and grandfather it could be seen +were given to antagonise, as much as possible, the Scotch-Irish +spectators. But ’Squire Blanchard ended, or cut short, his speech by +asking if he had witnesses to prove his statements. + +“Woodranger here was with me, an’ I reckon his word is erbout as good +as enny the youngster can fetch erlong. Woodranger, step this way, an’ +tell th’ ’squire whut ye know erbout this young poacher.” + +In answer to ’Squire Blanchard’s request, but not to Gunwad’s, the +forester took the witness-stand, and, after being duly sworn, answered +the questions asked him without hesitation or wavering. + +“You were with Gunwad yesterday, Woodranger, when he met the prisoner +at Rock Rimmon?” + +“I was, cap’en.” + +“And you saw the deer he had shot?” + +“I see the carcass o’ a dead deer laying at the foot o’ Rock Rimmon, +cap’en.” + +“It was the deer the prisoner is supposed to have shot?” asked ’Squire +Blanchard, noticing the Woodranger’s cautious way of replying. + +“It was the only deer I see.” + +“You saw Gunwad take a bullet from its body?” + +“I did. I see, too, that the lead had not found a vital spot.” + +“Do you mean to say the deer was not killed by the shot?” + +“That’s what I mean.” + +Gunwad was seen to scowl at this acknowledgment, while the spectators +listened for the next question and reply in breathless eagerness. + +“What was the cause of the creature’s death, then?” + +“It was killed by its fall from Rock Rimmon. To be more correct, I +should say its leap from the top of Rimmon, which you mus’ know is a +smart jump.” + +“But it was driven over the cliff by a hound at its heels?” + +“It could have gone round if it had wished. I ’low it was hard pressed, +but it looked to me the critter took that way to get out o’ a bad race.” + +A murmur of surprise ran around the crowded room, while Gunwad was +heard to mutter an oath between his teeth. + +“You say that for the benefit of the prisoner?” demanded Blanchard, +sharply. + +“I do not need to, cap’en. Besides, I’m under oath.” + +“Do you mean to say that a deer would jump off Rock Rimmon intent on +its own destruction, Woodranger? Now, as a man who lives in the forest, +knows its most hidden secrets and worships its solitudes, answer me if +you can.” + +Even Gunwad was silent now, and the knot of talkers outside the door, +realising that the conversation between the justice and the witness had +reached a point of more than ordinary interest, abruptly ended their +discussion, to listen with the others. + +“Cap’en Blanchard,” said the Woodranger, in his simple, straightforward +way, “I ’low I’ve spent a goodish portion o’ my life in the woods, +ranging ’em fur and wide it may be, sometime on the trail o’ a red man, +sometime stalking the deer, the bear, or the painter. Being a man not +advarse to l’arning, though the little book wit I got inter my head +onc’t has slipped out, I have picked up some o’ Natur’s secrets. I can +foller the Indian’s trail where some might not read a sign. The trees +tell me the way to go in the darkness o’ night; and the leaf forewarns +me the weather for the morrer. If I do say it, and I think I may be +pardoned for the boasting, few white men can show greater knack at +trailing the Indian or stalking the four-footed critters o’ the woods. +My eye is trained to its mark, my hand to its work, and Ol’ Danger +here,” tapping the barrel of his long rifle, “never has to bark the +second time at the same critter. I hope you’ll pardon me for saying all +this, seeing no man has enny right to boast o’ the knacks o’ Natur’. +If I have been a better scholard in her school than in that o’ man, +it is because her teachings have been more to my heart. Her ways are +ways of peace and read like an open book, but the ways o’ man are ways +o’ consait and past finding out. Though I live by my rifle, I do not +believe in wanton killing, and I never drew bead on critter with a +malicious thought. + +“But pardon me for so kivering the trail o’ your question as not to +find it. One is apt to study the manners o’ ’em into whose company he +is constantly thrown. So I have studied the ways o’ the critters o’ +the woods very keerfully, to find ’em with many human traits. They +have their joys and their sorrers, their loves and hates, their hopes +and despairs, just like the human animal. In the wilds o’ the North I +once saw a sick buck walk deliberately up to the top o’ a high bluff, +and, after stopping a minute, while he seemed to be saying his prayers, +jump to death on the rocks below. At another time, I sat and watched a +leetle mole, old and sick, dig him a leetle hole in the earth, crawl +in, and kiver himself over to die. I remember once I had a dog, and +if I do say it, as knows best, he was the keenest hound on the scent +and the truest fri’nd a man ever had. But at last his limbs come to be +cramped with rheumatiz, his eyesight was no longer to be trusted, and +his poor body wasted away for the food he had no appetite to eat. In +his distress he lay down in my pathway, and asked me, in that language +the more pathetic for lacking words, to put an end to his misery by a +shot from my gun. + +“I say, Cap’en Blanchard, I’ve witnessed sich as these, and, mind ye, +while I do not pretend that deer leaped to its death o’ its own free +will on Rock Rimmon, in the light o’ sich doings as I’ve known it might +have done it rather than to find heels for the hound any longer.” + +Though the Woodranger had spoken at this great length, and in his +roundabout manner, not a sound fell on the scene to break the clear +flow of his voice. It was evident his wild, rude philosophy had taken +effect in the rugged breasts of those hardy pioneers. Even ’Squire +Blanchard paused for a considerable space before asking his next +question. + +“Granting all that, Woodranger, it has but slight bearing on the fact +of the prisoner’s guilt or innocence. I understand you to say it +was his hound which had started the deer, and which was driving the +creature that way――to its death, according to your own words.” + +“If I ’lowed as much as that, cap’en, I said more’n the truth will +bear me out in. I will answer you by asking you a question.” + +“Go ahead in your way, Woodranger,” consented the other. “I suppose I +should accept from you what I would from no other person.” + +“Thank you, cap’en. This is the leetle p’int I’ve to unravel from +my string o’ knots: If a nigger should come to your house and stop +overnight, would that make him your slave for the rest o’ his life?” + +“No.” + +“I figgered it that way. Wal, that deerhound, and he was a good one, +come to this lad o’ his own free will and stayed with him whether or +no. Yesterday the critter took it into his head to start a deer from +Cedar Swamp, and he did so without the knowledge o’ the lad. The dog +left, too, as soon as he see the mischief he’d done. Dogs may not +understand man’s laws, but they sometimes know when they have broke +’em.” + +“But there is no denying that the prisoner shot the animal?” demanded +’Squire Blanchard, as if determined not to be beaten at every point. + +“Not if that chunk o’ lead will fit the bore o’ his gun,” holding out +the bullet Gunwad had taken from the deer’s body. “The lad has his gun +with him, if I mistake not.” + +A ripple of excitement ran around the room at this speech, and Gunwad, +as if fearing the trial was going contrary to his wishes, broke in with +the exclamation, directed to no one in particular, but heard by all: + +“This is er purty piece o’ tomfoolery!” + + + + + CHAPTER VIII. + + END OF THE TRIAL. + + +’Squire Blanchard rapped smartly on the table in front of him for +order, before he said: + +“You may try the bullet in the prisoner’s gun, Woodranger.” + +Reaching forward and taking Norman’s firearm, he held it in his left +hand, with inverted muzzle, while he laid the bullet on the top. There +the round piece of lead rested, being too large to drop down the long, +slender throat. For the first time a murmur of applause was heard. + +Gunwad stamped his foot, exclaiming: + +“It isn’t the weepon he had yesterday!” + +In answer to ’Squire Blanchard’s questioning look, Woodranger said: + +“I’m under oath.” + +The three short words, spoken so impressively by the man who would have +sooner given his life than lie, were sufficient,――sufficient for all +except the angry deer reeve. + +“That will do for the present, Woodranger,” declared the justice. + +“Hol’ on!” exclaimed Gunwad. “I want to ask him a question.” + +“You will have plenty of time as soon as I have examined the prisoner.” + +Compelled to remain quiet, the deer reeve then listened to Norman’s +straightforward account of the little affair. Of course his version +exactly agreed with what the Woodranger had given, and at its +conclusion ’Squire Blanchard was frank enough to say: + +“There doesn’t seem to be sufficient evidence to hold the prisoner. +The complainant fails to prove that it was his dog which started the +deer, or that it was he who shot it, therefore, I command the release +of Norman McNiel. But according to your own account of shooting at the +hawk, young man, I should not advise you to have very high hopes at the +shooting-match. This court stands adjourned. Now, boys, for the Three +Pines!” + +A loud cheer greeted “his Honour’s” unique way of dissolving his court, +while the infuriated Gunwad pushed his way forward, crying, in a loud +voice: + +“Ye betrayed me, Woodranger! I thought ye wuz my fri’nd and ye proved +my Judas! It wuz a miserable sneak game to cheat me out’n my reward, +but I’ll hev the skunk wot fired thet shot, be he a white-livered +furriner or a copper-skin.” + +The Woodranger managed to leave the room without coming in contact +with the irate speaker. Some of those present tried to check the deer +reeve’s bitter utterances. The majority seemed well pleased with the +way the trial had ended, though it had called forth several animated +discussions among the spectators. Naturally the Scotch-Irish, to a +man, complimented ’Squire Blanchard on his way of disposing of the +case. This very state of satisfaction among those they so thoroughly +disliked, however, awakened keen distrust among the Tyng colonists, +who began to develop a strong opposition to the course the matter had +taken. ’Squire Blanchard was the town’s clerk, and one of the most +active of the grantees. But some declared that he had favoured their +rivals, though he had been perfectly honest in his treatment of the +case. Gunwad, naturally, was determined to get what advantage he could +from this mixed situation. + +“It’s nothin’ but downright insult to ’low this young furriner to come +in hyur an’ shoot down our deer without regard to our laws. I ain’t +ag’in sayin’ thet Cap’en Blanchard didn’t ’vestigate as he oughter.” + +“Woodranger ain’t inclined to the belief that the boy did it,” ventured +a bystander. “There ain’t many who doubt the word of him. He fit with +Lovewell and is parfectly honest.” + +As if the last was the natural result of the first act, and beyond +dispute, the speaker retired in a satisfied manner. + +“He lied in this!” exclaimed Gunwad, but quickly qualifying his +statement, for fear he had made it stronger than would be accepted. “At +least he put it in sich light as to deceive the cap’en. A deer killin’ +itself,――the idee! He didn’t give me a fair chance.” + +“Better let it drop here, Gunwad,” said a friend. “No good will come of +stirring the mess.” + +“Ef ye had been trod on as I hev ye wouldn’t feel so easy erbout yit. +I’d like to git er rope eround the hull Irish gang an’ be th’ one to +shake ’em over Namaske! Bet yer life I w’u’dn’t hol’ on to thet rope +only long ernough to see thet they were in a way to git wet to their +livers.” + +“Bet you wouldn’t hold on to that rope any longer than I could get my +fist on you, you little runt of a Britisher!” exclaimed a voice at his +elbow, and turning about the deer reeve was startled to find the tall, +muscular figure of young Hall confronting him. + +“Better be careful how you talk such foolery here!” declared the +latter. “Unless you want more trouble than you can handle.” + +The cowardly Gunwad offered no reply, breathing easier when the other +had gone beyond hearing. + +The shooting-match was an event important enough to arrest the +attention of the spectators, and turn their thoughts into another +channel than shooting deer out of season. The majority at once started +toward the shooting grounds. + +Still Gunwad remained just outside the house discoursing to a little +group of listeners, who were in sympathy with him, on the grievous +wrong he believed had been done him, and to embitter the others as much +as possible against their rivals. + +“I s’pose ye know who this young upstart is,” he half questioned, and, +as if to answer it himself, continued: + +“I know as well as ef it was writ in a book. One o’ ’em Irishers tole +me, so I got it straight. They hate him like pizen, but don’t like to +let on. Ye all know th’ Irishers air all refugees, an’ thet they fust +fled from Scotland for treason to th’ king, who got arter ’em like a +mad bull. They went to Ireland, which they soon had to quit fer more +treason. Ye see it’s in him, bone and blood. Finally they concluded +to come to this kentry in a body, an’ mus’ needs git out in th’ dark. +Some o’ their inimies got hol’ o’ their scheme, but didn’t let on. So +when th’ lot got ready to start they found their way stopped by armed +men. They managed to git away, when some on ’em looked round for th’ +traitor, an’ it weren’t long afore th’ Judas was found. He was Arch +McNiel, this boy’s father. He got away, but he killed two o’ ’em afore +he got clear. His escape didn’t do him much good, fer he was shot dead +on th’ king’s highway two days later. His wife, ol’ man MacDonald’s +darter, took it so to heart she died right off. Thet left th’ ol’ +Scotchman with th’ boy on his hands, only he was a baby then. Now if +there is enny ones I despise it’s Judases, and it’s sich fellers as th’ +McNiels as kem hyur to rob us o’ our――” + +No sooner had his release become known than one after another of the +onlookers crowded around Norman to congratulate him, among the rest +being Robert Rogers, who wrung his hand heartily. + +“The ’squire was perfectly fair,” he said. “Of course Gunwad had no +proof against you. He is an evil man, anyway. If you had been sent to +gaol there would have been some lively times in Old Harrytown, and some +of the Londonderry boys might have had a finger in the stew.” + +“Such language is ill-timed,” said the Woodranger. “I find it is well +never to resort to wanton talk, as talking but leads to fighting. +There is enough of that to do with the red men. The whites have enough +to answer for in bounty on scalps of the misguided savages, without +killing each other. Harrytown is not worth the spilling o’ a drop o’ +innocent blood.” + +“I wish to thank you for your kindness to me, Woodranger,” said Norman, +improving his first opportunity to express his appreciation of the +forester’s proof of friendship. “I am sure if it hadn’t been for you I +should have had to go to Chelmsford.” + +“I was under oath, lad, and told of the affair just as it was. I’m very +thankful I’m not given to deceiving. True, men resort to such manner +o’ doings when tracking the red man, but that is only the natural +artifices o’ warfare. In peace it is――” + +“Look there, Woodranger!” interrupted young Rogers, pulling the +speaker’s sleeve; “you upbraided me for talking trouble. Will you +listen to the arguments of Gunwad?” + +At first the Woodranger was inclined to merely glance toward the man, +whom it was evident he despised. But, as his gaze ran over the deer +reeve and his knot of listeners, his countenance quickly changed its +hue, and he became an intent hearer of the other’s garbled account of +Norman’s father. He trembled from head to foot, and as Gunwad reached +that point where he used the words “to rob us o’ our”――the forester, +with that swift, silent step so natural to him, glided to the deer +reeve’s side. Before the story-teller realised his presence, he seized +him with one hand by the throat. As the powerful fingers tightened, +their victim was lifted clear from his feet, and held at arm’s length +by the iron-like grasp of Woodranger. + +The deer reeve could not utter a word, and he seemed in imminent +danger of being choked to death, but he struggled violently to break +from the hand which had so unexpectedly caught and held him like a huge +bat twisting and squirming in mid-air. + +“Utter another word o’ sedition and I’ll warp your head from your +shoulders!” exclaimed the forester, sharply. “Let this be a warning +to sich petty whippers and growlers as you,” flinging the other to +the ground, and striding away from the place as if escaping from some +obnoxious creature. + +This violent display of anger on the part of the Woodranger, who had +never shown anything of the kind before, so startled the onlookers that +not a word was spoken until he had gone beyond hearing. As soon as the +dazed Gunwad had begun to recover his senses, he shook his fist after +the retreating forester, muttering maledictions he was careful the +other should not hear. Fortunately the few left about the place did not +care to engage in any row, so the affair was speedily forgotten, except +by Gunwad, in the interesting and exciting scenes which followed. + +As he strode away in righteous wrath, Woodranger caught Norman by the +hand, saying: + +“Come with me to the shoot, lad. I fear me much I’ve committed a +foolish indiscretion in letting my temper run away with my jedgment. A +man never knows his strength till he has tried his weakness. Oh, the +shoot will not detain you more than a couple o’ hours. You will get +home as soon as your grandfather will expect you. You have that shot at +the hawk to redeem, and this is your time.” + + + + + CHAPTER IX. + + THE SHOOTING-MATCH. + + +A shooting-match in the days of the pioneers was always sure to attract +a large crowd of spectators and a goodly number of marksmen. Such was +the case in Tyng Township. It is true there had been a spirited trial +of the kind at the last Thanksgiving, among the Tyngsmen, but over +eight months had elapsed since then, and as keen an interest was felt +on this occasion as before. In fact, there was greater excitement and +anxiety, as certain elements had entered into this contest which had +been unknown in the other. Previously there had been merely a friendly +rivalry among kindred spirits. Now scores were to be settled between +antagonistic parties. + +The match had been the outcome of a boyish dispute and quarrel. Willie +Tyng, a grandson of the celebrated Captain Tyng of the “snow-shoe +expedition,” and Archie Gamble, son of one of the foremost Scotch-Irish +settlers, had together shot at an eagle. One shot missed the bird, +while the other brought the victim to the ground. Then each claimed the +honour of the successful shot, each being really at a loss to prove +his assertion. From angry words they came to challenge each other to a +test with the gun, in order to show who was the better marksman. Then, +the friends of the two taking up the dispute, plans were made for a +general match, which all could enter who wished. + +As the most convenient grounds for the affair, the plateau on the +summit of the elevation known as Chestnut Corners, or the Three Pines, +was selected. This had really been chosen as the site for a proposed +meeting-house, so a clearing large enough for the occasion had been +made. + +Fortunately, the day did not promise the excessive heat of the closing +of July, and the fog which had hung over the river during the morning +had lifted, so the weather was all that could be asked. + +“I suppose you will win the prize in the first class,” said Norman +to the Woodranger, as he walked along on the right hand side of the +forester, while Rob Rogers kept step on the other side. + +“Doubtful, my lad, doubtful. Such sport does well enough for boys, but +it seems to me a wanton waste o’ powder to an ol’ man, who has but +enough for the game he must o’ necessity bring down. Then, too, having +been perambulating the woods so much of late, I had nary inkling o’ +such doings. However, I ’vise you to try a bead, just to show ’em that +with proper practice you can ketch the bird’s eye, e’en if it be a +hawk.” + +“You must enter on our side, Woodranger,” said Rob. “We’re going to +beat ’em to-day if it takes a tooth.” + +“Ordinarily that is right, Robby, but it is good reason why I should +not mix in the ’fair. ’Twould only stir bad blood and aggravate the +ol’ wound. No, no, lads, I’m neutral in this quarrel. It’s my humble +opinion this match had better been settled ’mong the lads, where it +begun. A shooting-match is a dangerous ’fair where there is hot blood +ready to be spilt. It looks so there was going to be a goodish crowd.” + +They were then approaching the grounds, which were already thronged +with loud-talking men and boys, who had come early so as not to miss +any of the “fun.” + +Already the committee, consisting of three men from each party, had +perfected the preliminary arrangements. The contesting marksmen had +been divided into two classes. The boys, or younger members of the +rival factions, were to pit themselves against each other first, after +which the men were to try their more experienced hands. This decision +meeting with the approval of all, the names of the youthful claimants +for the honour were listed, until six on each side had been included. + +Among those on the Tyng Township part were Johnny Goffe, Willie Tyng, +John Spaulding, and Burton Woods, with two others. The Scotch-Irish +were represented by Norman McNiel, Robert Rogers, Archie Gamble, and +three more, whose names need not be given. + +Our hero had been somewhat loath to participate in the trial, though +he felt certain he need not feel ashamed of his skill with his rifle. +Woodranger had advised him to enter the list, so he had done so. +Some objection was raised at first to Robert Rogers, as he lived out +of town. But when he cheerfully offered to withdraw, it was almost +demanded by all that he remain. + +This selection of the marksmen took nearly half an hour’s time. Then +a hundred yards, the distance agreed upon, was measured off, and the +target put up against the trunk of a big pine. The object at which they +were to shoot was a stave about six inches wide and a couple of feet +long, which had been rived from a pine expressly for this occasion. +Near its centre had been marked a spot the size of a bullet, which was +called the bull’s-eye. Around this a line had been traced, making a +circle just an inch in diameter. Outside of this mark were two more +circles, each an added inch in size, so the largest was three inches +across. Whichever side should succeed in placing the greater number of +bullets inside the inch ring would be declared the victor. Should all +fail to come so near to the bull’s-eye, the party which should put the +most inside the second or middle circle would be the winner. Failing +in this the third circle would count, but no bullet hitting the stave +outside that should, under any circumstances, be counted at all. + +By this time seventy-five persons had gathered on the clearing, +an anxious, curious, excitable crowd, anticipating the result +with conjectures in regard to the relative skill of the different +contestants. It was pretty generally agreed that the parties were very +evenly matched, though the ability of Norman was less known than that +of his companions. + +“Now, stand back, so the boys can have a chance at a clear field,” said +Captain Goffe, who had been unanimously chosen master of ceremonies. A +skurrying to get out of the way followed. Woodranger, who had scarcely +spoken since the beginning, took a position where he could command a +view of the whole situation. Assuming his favourite position, with arms +akimbo across the muzzle of his rifle, he watched and waited in silence. + +It had been decided that the firing should be done alternately by the +two parties. It fell to the Tyng boys to lead, and young Goffe stepped +into the small arena designated as the marksman’s stand. Taking +careful aim, he sent the first ball inside the smallest ring, amid the +cheers of those who were in sympathy with him. + +“Beat that with yer Gambles and McNiels if you can!” called out a lusty +voice. “Three cheers for Johnny Goffe!” + +Three hearty huzzas were given for the boy marksman, while the name +of the first on the list of the Scotch-Irish was called. He was a +tall, strapping youth by the name of MacKnight, afterward noted as a +sturdy patriot in the French and Indian wars and in that of American +Independence. Perhaps he was overconfident of his skill, for, with a +hasty aim, he sent his bullet barely in the second ring. Groans on the +part of the English succeeded, but not a cheer from their rivals. The +disappointed lad retired crestfallen from the scene. + +Again the Tyng portion of the crowd was on the alert, as the second of +their favourites took his position. Put on his guard perhaps by the +failure of MacKnight, he raised his gun slowly and carefully until it +was on a line with the mark. His hand trembled, showing the suppressed +excitement under which he was labouring. Hesitating a moment, he +lowered the weapon, while the Scotch-Irish took advantage of the action +to break forth into loud jeers. + +The lack of confidence the boy marksman evinced was manifested by the +result of his shot. His bullet fell outside of the second line, and +the opposing party gave shouts of derision. + +Archie Gamble’s turn came next. He took a careful aim, occupying what +seemed to the bystanders a long time, but fired at his first poise. + +“First ring!” cried the foremost of those who rushed forward to examine +the stave. A deafening cheer went up from the Scotch-Irish. But this +applause proved premature, for, upon closer examination, it was found +that the lead, while it had cut the line, lay with its larger part +outside of the mark. The Tyng boys were still ahead. + +Willie Tyng then took the stand, sending a bullet with such accuracy +that it lodged inside the smallest ring. The applause from his admirers +was louder and more prolonged than any before. + +This so disconcerted the next marksman that he missed the stave +altogether! At least that was the excuse his friends made. Be that as +it might, the result was the same. + +One-half of the rivals had now tried their hands and the Tyng boys were +well ahead. As soon as he could make himself heard for the wild cries +uttered, the person, who had interjected his boastful words before, +again shouted: + +“Git home, ye sons o’ Scotch-Irish Macs, and take yer blunderbusses +with yer. They may do to hang yer pots an’ kittles on, but they never――” + +Captain Goffe tried to check this foolish speech at the outset, but the +speaker would not stop, though the cheers of his companions drowned his +concluding words. + +The sun of the Tyng boys seemed to be in the ascendant surely, for +their fourth representative placed his bullet inside the magical +circle. Their score now stood at three. Every Scotch-Irish boy left on +the list had got to score the centre circle in order to make a record +even with their rivals. Even the most candid of their opponents could +not blame the English crowd for the loud huzzas which followed their +last triumph. + +“Norman McNiel!” called off Captain Goffe, as soon as he could make +himself heard above the confusion of voices. Then the young refugee +stepped quickly into the ring, and silence again fell on the scene. No +one present really knew his ability as a marksman, and it is safe to +say he was watched with keener interest and deeper anxiety than any one +before him. Should he fail, the Scotch-Irish might as well bid adieu to +their hopes. More curious than anxious, the rival party looked on in +silence, somewhat indifferent as to the result. + +This being his first appearance before a crowd, and realising how +much was depending upon himself and his two companions, Norman felt a +nervousness which was ominous of his failure. It was with difficulty +he quieted his nerves enough to hold his gun steadily. He had been +taught that the first sight was best, and the report of his weapon rang +out before the spectators were prepared for the shot. + +But, as usual, some one was beside the stave in the twinkling of an +eye. No one was expecting the announcement he yelled forth in wild +excitement, unless it was the Woodranger, who had smiled as he had seen +Norman pull the trigger: + +“The bull’s-eye! He’s cut out the dot!” + +At first the spectators could not realise the truth of these words, but +as soon as it was found to be so such shouts went from the Scotch-Irish +as awoke the surrounding woods and put to shame the applause of their +rivals. + +“It is the handsomest shot I’ve seen for many a day,” frankly declared +Captain Goffe, who made no attempt to still the shouts, though his +sympathies were really with the other side. + +It was a proud moment for Norman, though he retired modestly to the +background. Woodranger, speaking for the first time since the opening +of the match, was heard to say: + +“The lad has it in him. It is a natural knack few can boast of. Aweel, +it will be so much to the red man’s cost, or I cannot read the futur’.” + +The fifth Tyng representative failed to get nearer the bull’s-eye than +the outer edge of the second ring. His competitor sent his bullet so +as to cut the inside circle, very similar to the shot of Archie Gamble. +His effort was considered better than the others, however, as he made a +perfect line shot. + +The sixth and last contestant for the honour of Tyng Township proved +himself worthy of the confidence placed in him. His bullet struck by +the side of Johnny Goffe’s. The Tyng boys had now assured their triumph +beyond dispute, no matter what the result of the concluding trial. +So they were jubilant, while the Scotch-Irish were correspondingly +low-spirited. + +The latter party had, wisely or not, kept their most hopeful champion +for the last. For his years, Robert Rogers had been considered the best +shot in Silver River country. Thus some persisted in cheering, as he +took the stand. A portion of the opposition improved the opportunity to +deride the boy marksman. + +“Give ’em all th’ chance that belongs to ’em,” cried a burly onlooker. +“We’re safe. See Rob’s hand tremble. It’s ten to one he couldn’t hit +th’ broadside o’ a deer. Say, Rob, did ye ever hev th’ buck fever?” + +“Close your mouth or I’ll take your head for a target, Bill Exeter, +and I’ll hit the bull’s-eye, too,” cried young Rogers, sharply, as +he prepared to take aim. He was nettled and disappointed by the +blundering shots of all his associates, except Norman. “’Taint no fair +show, anyway,” he continued, “when a bull’s-eye don’t count more’n a +ringer. I told ’em so and――” + +_Spang!_ rang out the sharp report of his weapon, in the midst of +his own speech. The smoke had not cleared away before the cry came +tauntingly above the medley of sounds: + +“Rob ain’t hit the stave!” + +“Prove it or I’ll make you eat them words!” he exclaimed, fiercely, +starting toward the target. + +“It’s so, and I can prove it by Captain Goffe. There ain’t no new hole +made in the stave since Ben Butterfield fired. Where’s your boasts now, +Rob Rogers?” + +“As sound as a nut. No new hole in the stave, eh? Does that prove that +I ain’t hit the bull’s-eye? Look where Norman McNiel put his lead, and +if I ain’t got a chunk of lead there on top of his I’ll never draw bead +again on buck nor redskin.” + +The youthful scout showed that he was terribly in earnest, and a deep +silence fell on the scene, while Captain Goffe, removing the target, +began an examination for the bullet in the pine. In a minute he had +extricated a piece of lead, somewhat flattened, but with the shape +of the bullet still remaining. As he held this up to the gaze of the +spectators, he said: + +“McNiel’s bullet is still left in the tree, directly beneath where this +was embedded. Rob was right; he put his bullet through the bull’s-eye +in the exact track――” + +He was not allowed to finish. The Scotch-Irish spectators began to yell +themselves hoarse. The score of their team, though lower than the other +side, showed two of the best shots which had been made. If they had +been defeated, it was a proud defeat. + +Rob Rogers crossed over to where Norman and Woodranger were conversing, +and grasping our hero’s hand, exclaimed: + +“Mac, I like your style, and I want you for a friend. When you go +on the trail of the red enemy I want you to let me go with you. +Woodranger, I wish to thank you for training me in the way you have.” + +“Tut, tut, lad! the knack o’ drawing a true bead is God’s gift, not +man’s. He who gave life sees fit to give the power to take it. It is +the manner in which that gift is used that counts in the great string +o’ knots at the last. You both made good shots, lads, and you’ll make a +powerful team――a powerful team, lads.” + +“I shall be glad to go with you, Rob,” said Norman, as he clasped the +other’s hand. + +Little did either of them dream of the stern reality which was to +cement the boyish pledge so impulsively made. Little did any of those +young marksmen dream of the more trying test of their skill which +was so soon to come. Those who now hung their heads with shame were +destined to lift them with a proud consciousness of duty well done in +the savage warfare so soon to carry terror to their New England homes. + + + + + CHAPTER X. + + AN ALARM. + + +The English were exultant over the victory won by their champions, +while the Scotch-Irish claimed, as they well could, that the best shots +had been made by two of their competitors. If decided upon the real +merits of the match, they believed the championship belonged to them. +Still, that was not exactly according to the rules of the trial, which, +it could now be seen, had not been made so as to obtain the fairness +intended. The truth was, no one had anticipated such marksmanship among +the young rivals. + +With the contest of the youthful members over, talk concerning the +trial among the men speedily put the other in the background, except to +a few. If excitement had run high before, it was evident it would reach +boiling pitch this time, and the more timid began to tremble for the +result. + +As in the other match, representatives were to be chosen for each side, +the difference being that only three were to participate from each +party this time. But in order to satisfy others who were desirous of +showing their skill, a third trial was to be had, in which all were to +be allowed to take part in a sort of off-hand shooting. + +Knowing his unerring skill with his rifle, it was natural the +Woodranger should be urged by both sides to champion their cause. But +the forester was wise enough to see that it would be better for him, if +not for the rest, to keep in the background. + +“Such doings may be well and fitting for lads, but it seems to me a +grievous waste o’ powder for ol’ men to be shooting at a stave. No good +can come o’ it. It’s the unwritten law o’ natur’ that men should war +on the wild creatur’s o’ the forest, and if they must, it is enough to +burn their powder for the helpless and innocent that cannot speak for +themselves. The lads have made a good showing, if I do say it. When the +war-whoop o’ the red man is heard again in our midst, as it is sartin +to be at no distant day, it shows we shall have bonnie boys to take our +places. No; these doings ain’t to my consarn. I may have a knack at +drawing bead on the buck or the b’ar, or the red man if he crosses my +path, but I do not believe in wanton waste o’ powder. Besides, I’m no +man’s inimy. The wild, boundless forest is my free domain, and the good +Lord gave it to me as neutral ground.” + +These words, spoken in his deliberate, impressive way, emphasised with +a shake of the head, convinced the others that it was useless to urge +the forester further to enter the match. But if he would not become a +principal in the proceedings, would he not act as manager? Finally, +with great reluctance, seeing what no one else foresaw, that an open +rupture was imminent before the affair was well over, he consented to +accept the responsible part. He did this more in the hope of averting a +crisis than for any other reason. + +The distance for the men was to be the same as for the boys, but with +the former only bull’s-eye shots were to count, except in case no one +should hit the centre, when the nearest shot would be considered. After +one round at the target, a trial at a living mark by the successful +ones was to end the matter. + +It soon proved that the men were more unreasonable than the boys had +been, and more competitors wished to enter than were called for. It +required all of the tact at the command of the Woodranger to select +those who should enter the competition. In the midst of his perplexing +duties, Zack Bitlock, still barefooted and dishevelled in appearance, +pushed his way forward to the forester’s side, saying, in his peculiar +tone: + +“Ef yit’s all th’ same to ye, Ranger, I want the taking o’ yer rifle +a leetle bit. I thought mebbe I sh’uld wanter be in th’ shoot at +live things, an’ yit mought be prudent fer me to try th’ iron a bit +aforehand, seein’ yit’s new to my hand, an’ Frinch, too.” + +Woodranger paused in his work, to gaze on the speaker fully a minute +before he replied: + +“Sich a request passes my comprehension, seeing a man’s rifle is the +last thing he should surrender. I remember when I was with that brave, +but misguided man, Cap’n Lovewell, that a red man asked that same +question o’ me. It may be he lacked your politeness about it, for the +ways o’ a red man ain’t the ways o’ a white man, and something must be +’lowed for the difference. Well, as I was saying, when I interrupted +myself, the red man asked, in his way, for my rifle. I ’lowed Old +Danger to answer for himself. I reckon the red was satisfied with the +reply, for he never repeated his request. No, Bitlock; I will give the +last crumb o’ dried bread or the last shred o’ venison in my wallet to +a suffering fellow man; but my rifle, never! I would not do that for +my brother, had I been blessed with sich. A man’s rifle is a part o’ +himself.” + +“Put the Puritan fool off the ground!” cried a brawny Presbyterian, +starting forward, as if to carry out his threat. This aggressive action +instantly called forth decisive opposition, and the rash speaker was +seized and rudely flung to the earth. The spark which alone had been +needed to set fire to the combustible natures of the rival factions had +been unwittingly applied. Words and blows lie near together. + +Seeing the inevitable result, the Woodranger was about to appeal to +the hot-headed leaders, when a most unexpected turn was given to the +situation. It was so sudden and startling as to carry a new terror to +every heart. + +A newcomer appeared upon the scene,――a young boy, bare-headed, +bare-footed, and so nearly exhausted from long running that he could +scarcely get his breath. Facing the wondering crowd a moment, he +finally managed to utter the single word: + +“_Fire!_” + +There are few words in the language of man which carry greater terror +with them than that monosyllable, and the personal differences of +the spectators were quickly forgotten, as every one waited for the +explanation expected. + +Seeing the boy was going to fall, Captain Goffe sprang forward to catch +him in his arms. After a brief rest the young messenger aroused enough +to say: + +“There is a fire in the pines above Lund’s. It’s going like the wind +toward Benson’s house. It’s licking up everything before it. They sent +me to tell you here, and I ran as fast as I could.” + +A forest fire at that season was always a source of danger, and this +one, beyond the control of those who had set it, meant more than +the usual peril. Several homes were menaced, to say nothing of the +threatened loss in other ways. It was perhaps fortunate that a part of +those homes in danger belonged to Scotch-Irish people, who had settled +in the vicinity of Cohas, for that would surely enlist them in fighting +the flames. Of course the shooting-match was instantly abandoned. All +feelings of animosity quickly put aside, the two factions, as one, ran +down the road toward the scene of the conflagration. + +Now that their attention had been turned in that direction, huge +columns of black smoke could be seen rising above the tree-tops, and +some declared they could hear the crackling and rumbling of the flames. +In a little more than a minute after the news had reached them every +person had left the grounds about the target pine, so swiftly did one +and all awaken to their duty. + +Norman had been talking with Robert Rogers and Johnny Goffe when the +announcement came, and they were among the foremost in the rush for the +scene of the fire. + + + + + CHAPTER XI. + + A FIERY GIRDLE. + + +In less than twenty minutes the leaders of the approaching party were +within plain sight of the conflagration, and paused for a hurried +survey of the wild scene. The fire had gained great headway, and every +moment was of priceless value. Starting in a piece of brushwood to +the south of the small stream, it had spread to the right and left, +crossing the Cohas in half a dozen places, and now was menacing the +homes of several colonists in the vicinity. + +The foremost of the comers, as cool and collected as at the outset, was +the Woodranger, and it was he who first comprehended the situation and +formed a plan of action. + +“Half a dozen o’ you come with me to the defence o’ the houses,” he +said, in a tone heard plainly above the roar of the fire. “The rest +divide into two parties, and going ahead of the columns o’ fire, on the +east and west, dig trenches, so as to stop the flames both ways. A few +men along the road ought to keep the fire from crossing it.” + +Captain Goffe quickly led a gang to do the fighting of the fire on the +east, while Alexander McMurphy, with as many more men, went to the +south on the Londonderry line. Others remained to guard the road, while +the Woodranger and ten others rushed to save the threatened houses. + +Norman, Rob Rogers, and Johnny Goffe joined this last party. + +It was soon found that the owners of the dwellings had already left +them, taking with them to a safe distance all they could of their +household effects. With such rude tools as the colonists had to work +with, home-made hoes and shovels, the rescuers began to dig trenches +around the menaced homes, and to clear away whatever combustible matter +lay in the way. + +They had barely begun, however, when the wind shifted, so as to drive +the fire directly down upon them. A portion of the men retreated back +into the woods, unable to stand the heat. + +Seeing that the Woodranger showed no signs of giving up, Norman held +to his post, digging with renewed vigour, though the smoke encircled +him and the heat fairly took away his breath. It was terrible working +there, but so long as any of his companions stood the test, he was +determined not to give up. He knew Robert and Johnny were keeping +stubbornly at their digging. + +The fire licked up the underbrush like chaff, hissing, crackling, +roaring with demoniac glee, as it spread through the dwarf pitch-pines, +or leaped up the tall monarchs of the forest faster than the most +nimble wildcat or the swiftest bird, until the doomed giant would be +enveloped in a fiery shroud, the crimson folds of which twisted and +fluttered in fantastic shapes, or leaped high into the air, making a +grand, but terrible, spectacle. + +The air was filled with bewildered birds driven from their retreats +in the woods, while snakes and other creeping things glided hither +and thither in a wild race away from the pursuing flames. The cries +and hisses of the terrified creatures added to the horror of the +conflagration. + +In the midst of the exciting work the Woodranger called to his +companions to seize the pine brushes they had provided themselves with +in case of an emergency, and go with him to help fight back the fire +which was crossing the danger line below them. + +The three boys quickly obeyed the forester, and some of those who had +previously sought flight now returned to battle manfully beside them. +In this way the flames were baffled in their attempt to reach the +houses. As if maddened by this repulse, the conflagration suddenly +swerved to the right. + +“The wind didn’t change any too soon,” declared the Woodranger, as he +stopped to wipe his perspiring brow. “Rest a bit, lads; you did nobly. +Unless I’m mistaken, and no man has the knack o’ telling what a fire +may do next, there is leetle to fear here now. If the wind does take a +notion to send it back, it cannot make the showing it did before. It +is swinging around toward Perham’s. Lads, you had better run out to +that opening and make a stand. The rest o’ you may come with me. If we +can hold it in check fifteen minutes longer, I opine the worst will be +over.” + +The opening in question was a clearing of about three acres in extent, +which had been sown with barley, and the grain was then ripe for the +scythe. Norman led the way to the upper side of this field, where the +three found themselves with their hands full. A manful fight enabled +them to keep back the encroaching flames, until a shrill scream rang in +their ears, and caused them to pause in their wild work long enough to +glance around for the object of the alarm. + +The flames beat down upon them so at that moment that they were obliged +to retreat toward the centre of the opening. As soon as the smoke had +cleared from their eyes sufficiently for them to look about, they found +themselves beside a big rock-pile, which Mr. Perham had heaped up in +clearing his land. + +Upon the top of the stone heap they were startled to find a girl, +about a dozen years old, crouching on the rocks, too terrified to move +or speak, except to utter her heartrending screams. She had started +to cross the clearing, and suddenly found herself surrounded by the +conflagration; for, unnoticed by the boys in their excitement, the fire +had swept around to the lower side of the clearing, so they were all +encircled by a fiery girdle. Licking up the ripe barley, like shavings +strewn in its pathway, the flames were rushing toward them with the +speed of a race-horse. + +“We are lost!” cried Johnny Goffe. “We shall be burned to death!” + +Knowing that they could not long remain there, though it would be +equally futile to try to break through the fiery circle, Norman sprang +up the rock-pile, and caught the trembling girl in his arms. If he +could escape himself he was determined to save her. How it was to be +done he had no idea. + +As he descended with his burden, wild shrieks of despair came from +outside the circle of flames. It was the child’s mother calling for her +lost little one! It was a moment none of them would ever forget. Under +the dark pall of the lowering smoke, Rob and Johnny gazed on each other +in silent terror. But a most unexpected way of deliverance was opened +to them. + +In reaching little Alice Perham, Norman dislodged a round stone from +the pile, which went bounding down to the edge of the fire. Then into +the fiery girdle it went, making for itself a narrow pathway, as it +crushed down the grain and extinguished the blaze where it tore up the +loose earth. + +Norman saw the effect, and, seating Alice safely one side, with a glad +shout he began to roll other stones that way, calling on his companions +to do the same. + +“Keep them in one track as much as you can, and we will soon have a +path for us to follow.” + +The second stone rolling through the gap of the first, crushing more of +the barley into the light earth, made the rent wider. Robert and Johnny +quickly followed Norman’s example, and for a brief while a perfect +shower of rocks went bounding down the hillside, until a considerable +opening had been torn in the blazing band. But the flames were getting +so near on other quarters that it was impossible for the boys to remain +there longer. + +“Now’s our time!” cried Norman, catching Alice again in his arms. +“Follow me!” + +Running at the top of their speed, they soon burst through the burning +barrier into the group of excited women and children which had huddled +together just out of reach of the conflagration. + +Their clothes torn and burned in places and their hair pretty badly +singed and skin blistered, the boys presented a sorry appearance. As +Norman had protected her somewhat by his jacket, Alice had escaped with +the least injury. But no one had received any serious harm, and, like +the rugged boys they were, they thought little of their slight burns. + +Mrs. Perham, who, a minute before, had been wringing her hands and +shedding scalding tears of grief, was now crying with joy, as she held +Alice in her arms. + +The women and children had nearly all gathered in this vicinity, and as +the wind continued to carry the fire away from that quarter there was +little trouble in stopping its advance. In other places, too, the men +were getting control of the conflagration, so fifteen minutes later the +fighting was practically over, unless the fire should break out in some +new section. + +Though of brief duration, it had been hot work while it had lasted, so +one and all were glad to drop upon the ground wherever they might be, +or seek some more comfortable resting-place, until they should regain +something of their wasted vigour. + +The shooting-match was quite forgotten for the time being, and even the +rancorous feeling, resulting from it, unheeded as the rival colonists +talked of the great danger which had been barely averted by their +timely and almost superhuman efforts. + +“It was well we came to the fire in a body,” declared the Woodranger, +who had suffered less from his exertions than any one else, though no +man had equalled him in effective work. “So many coming at once fresh +for the fight could do more than four times the number coming singly or +in pairs. I ’low continual dropping will wear away a stone, but fire +isn’t to be worn out in that way. It is a matter of thanksgiving that +no lives were lost,” and every one agreed with him. + +Norman was generously praised for his rescue of Alice Perham, and he +was urged to remain until he had entirely recovered from his exertions. +But he knew his grandfather and Rilma would be anxiously awaiting him, +so he started homeward at once. As it was not considered safe to leave +the fire without watchers, to see it did not catch in some new place, +the Woodranger volunteered his services. + +Having escaped so easily the charges brought against him by Gunwad, +Norman felt in good spirits, notwithstanding his recent experience. He +often found himself thinking of his new-found friend, the Woodranger, +and he could not help wondering why the singular man had taken such an +interest in him. The pleasant reflections filling his mind made him +poorly prepared to meet the startling intelligence his grandfather was +trembling to communicate to him the moment he should appear. That Rilma +should not hear it, he had stood for an hour anxiously awaiting him by +the river’s bank where he had parted from him in the morning. + + + + + CHAPTER XII. + + BAD NEWS AT HOME. + + +Upon seeing Norman approaching, Mr. MacDonald hurried forward to meet +him, so excited and alarmed that he could not speak. + +“What is it, grandfather?” asked Norman, anxiously, as he half +supported his aged relative, while they began to move slowly up the +path. “Something has happened since I went away. Have――have Rilma’s +injuries proved more serious than we thought?” + +“It’s nae that, ma laddie. It’s th’ sorriest bit o’ news I hae heard +since comin’ tae this place. A man has been here this day an’ telt me +that this hame is nae oors――that we maun leave it!” + +It was some time before Norman could fully understand the incoherent +account of his grandfather, but gradually he learned the truth. Two +men had been there and served a notice for them to move away from the +place, which they claimed was theirs. + +“Tae think we are again fugitives!” moaned the broken-hearted man. +“What hae I dune tae merit this? An auld man i’ th’ wilda’, far frae +the terrible scenes whaur I’ve suffered an’ lost sae muckle, I hae +hoped for peace,――a few days o’ quiet to see the sun o’ my life set. +Weel, it is feint tae be. An’ this seems the mair cruel deed o’ them +a’, an’ God wists the last was terrible. A refugee amang strangers in +an alien wilda’!” + +By the time they reached the house he was weeping like a child, and, +leading him to one of the seats, Norman placed his hand on his gray +head, saying, softly: + +“Do not despair, grandfather; it may not be as bad as you think. Who +came to see you, and what did he say?” + +“There were twa o’ them, laddie, an’ ilk said we’re on lan’ which is +theirs. I denied the lee, when they ca’d me a thief an’ a leear! Oh, +could I but laid my haun’ on my staff then I wadna hae spared the +skellum! I――” + +“I hope you did not strike one of them, grandfather,” said Norman, who +could see that such a course would only add to the seriousness of their +situation. + +“I dinna care! I dinna care!” moaned the old Highlander. + +It seemed that neither of the visitors had given any name, but from +such fragments of description as Norman could gather, he concluded +that one of them had been Gunwad. Now that he came to think of it, he +remembered that he had not seen the deer reeve at the shooting-match or +the fire. No doubt, upon his failure to prove his charges of shooting +deer out of season, he had taken this move to renew his persecution. +How serious it might become he had yet no way of judging. + +When Mr. MacDonald became calmer, he was able to converse with Norman +more intelligently. + +“I hae kep’ this frae Rilma,” he said. “Puir bairn! I couldna bear to +hae her ken it. Hoo lang it seemed afore ye cam!” + +“But I have come safely, grandfather, and I come free! They did not +prove me guilty, and let us hope this new trouble will be as easily +overcome. How is dear sister?” + +Before a reply could be given her own sweet voice fell on their ears, +and, looking around, they were surprised to find her standing in the +opening leading to the inner apartment. + +“I am better, dear brother,” she said. “Please do not blame me, but I +have heard every word that has been said, so I know your troubles, as +it is right I should. Why did you want to rob me of the privilege of +trying to comfort you in your grief, grandfather? Is it because you +prize home more than me?” + +“The gude Lord forgie me, bonnie lassie! Ae kiss frae your sweet lips +is worth mair than a’ the hames in the wilda’.” + +“Here is the kiss, dearest of grandfathers, with one for count! So +cheer up and let the sun shine. Tears ill become a MacDonald.” + +“Till ye hae seen a MacDonald weep ye canna ken what weepin’ is. But +forgie me, bonnie lassie, sic a little angel as ye is enough to cheer +the heart o’ an auld man, though it be hardened as leather.” + +She had twined her arms about his neck and was kissing away the +tear-drops, while he folded her to his bosom. + +“Easy, grandfather,” said Norman; “remember the hurts on her tender +shoulders.” + +“Never mind them, grandfather, but hug just as hard as you want to. You +don’t hurt a mite, and I was never so happy in my life!” + +Rilma’s tender entreaties were not without avail, for soon the other +lifted his gray head, and as she brushed back the thin locks from the +noble temple, he said, in a merry tone: + +“I dinna ken how tae thank ye, ma bonnie lassie. Ye hae lifted the load +frae ma heart. See! I smile! I’m a MacDonald again.” + +The childish joy of the old Highlander was something pathetic to +witness. Knowing how quickly it might be driven away, Norman turned +aside to conceal his emotion. Rilma, younger, more confiding and +confident, continued her caresses, until he laughed in genuine +happiness. + +“What do we care for an old log cabin, grandfather? Norman can build +another, better than this; but he cannot bring us another grandfather +like you. I am going to enjoy your dear old self while I can.” + +Her light-heartedness was contagious, and it wasn’t long before all +three were chatting as merrily as if no unscrupulous enemy were trying +to rob them of home and peace of mind. + +“There is one thing certain, grandfather,” said Norman, “this Gunwad +cannot say we robbed knowingly. The good names of MacDonald and +McNiel――” + +“Wheesht, ma laddie! wad ye mar the sunlicht by the darkness o’ that +name? Ye dinna ken what ye say,” and as his transition from childlike +grief to childlike joy had been swift, so did he instantly assume +something of the fire of his earlier years. The broad, high brow +contracted with a frown, and the deep, sunken eyes flashed with a +lustre which gave a wild appearance to his countenance, showing the +intensity of his pent-up feelings. The slim, bony fingers clutched his +staff closely, while he brought it smartly down upon the floor. + +This sudden change in his demeanour frightened Rilma, but Norman showed +that he was prepared for it. Instead of trembling for what he had said, +he exclaimed, boldly: + +“I am sorry to have pained you, grandfather, by my words. Why is it you +always fly into a rage when father’s name―― Please do not interrupt me, +or think me rude. I must speak and I will! I claim the right to speak +his name to you, who have been so kind to me. You know I have persisted +in bearing it, when you have wished me to take that of MacDonald. I do +not love it less for that, neither will I believe in the dishonour of +McNiel until I know some reason for doing so. You have never allowed +me to speak of father, but the time has come when you must speak. I am +old enough and brave enough to know the truth, be it ever so dreadful. +Nothing can be worse to me than this bitter silence.” + +“Lad, hae I e’er been unkind to ye?” + +“You have been as kind as any father to Rilma and me, dear grandfather, +in everything but this silence. I would not pain you for the world by +asking that which it seemed to me I had no right to hear. But I do +believe I ought to know this secret hanging over my father’s name and +mine, for what he bore must I bear.” + +“Ye hae trouble enough o’ yer ain withoot that that anither was only +owergled tae lay doon. Lad, it is better I remain silent as I hae sae +lang.” + +“You wrong us all when you say that, grandfather. It is your duty to +tell; it is my duty and Rilma’s to know. If you persist much longer +in keeping it from me, I will learn it from some other source, if +I have to cross the sea and get it from strangers. I have for some +time been thinking of asking it of you, and I feel that the occasion +has come. Now, under the cloud of this other oppression, let me know +all,――remember, be it ever so shameful or ever so sad, _all_.” + +Robert MacDonald buried his face in his hands and groaned aloud, +saying, while his young companions waited anxiously: + +“Alas! it never rains but it pours! Maun I tell it? A’, Jeannette, ma +ain wranged, kilt bairn, the dearest, sweetest that e’er blessed a fond +faither’s heart, shall I speak anither word?” + +Then, as he lifted his head and met Norman’s clear, unflinching gaze, +and beheld Rilma’s innocent surprise, his heart seemed to tell him it +was right that he should tell all. + +As he began, unheard and unobserved by the three, the figure of the +Woodranger appeared in the doorway, he having drawn near with his +natural silence, but with no thought of listening to that which might +not concern him. At the sound of the narrator’s voice he stopped, and +something in the old Highlander’s tones or words caused him to remain +motionless as a statue, his long rifle resting its butt on the ground, +while it supported on its muzzle the forester’s bearded chin. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII. + + THE HONOUR OF THE McNIELS. + + +“The McNiels are a bonnie race o’ men,” began the old Highlander, +“an’ those o’ them are yet livin’ wha honour their memory. The braw +Daniel, then ane o’ the Council o’ Londonderry, writ the resolutions o’ +opposition tae the cowardly an’ treacherous Lundy, governor of Ireland +an’ tool in the hauns o’ James, an’ which, signed by twenty ithers o’ +the council, was placarded in the public places an’ read to the people, +awakenin’ them tae that braw defence o’ the cause. Frae him are ye +descended, Norman, wi’ the best bluid o’ the MacDonalds in your veins. + +“Forgie an auld man’s weakness, ma laddie, but it was a prood day when +my Jeannette became the bride o’ Archie McNiel, she ne’er dreamin’ o’ +the cloud sae low ower her happiness, nor I o’ the day when I should +speak the name in shame. I ne’er minded my loneliness in seein’ her +gang awa’ frae the auld hame, for I had a son, Alick, the same age as +Archie, an’ he had come hame wi’ a bonnie bride. Weel micht I be prood +o’ my Alick, for he was a handsome lad, wi’ a’ the pride an’ bravery +o’ his grandfaither, the bauld but headstrong Chiel o’ Glencoe.[1] Yer +grandmither, Heaven bless her sainted memory, ne’er recovered from her +terrible experience in the mountain o’ Glencoe on that fearful day. She +died soon after yer mither was born, leavin’ her a wee, wee bairn in ma +airms. + + [1] A stalwart Highlander who led his clan against the English in + the bitter struggles of those times, until he and his followers + were completely routed, those who were not killed defending + their homes and loved ones, perishing in the mountains of + hunger and cold. To this day the wild, gloomy Pass of Glencoe, + where this tragedy took place, is fittingly known in the Gaelic + tongue as the “Glen of Weeping.” Among the few who escaped were + Robert MacDonald, the youngest son of the chief, and his young + wife. + +“The same year this double marriage in ma familie took place the good +Faither MacGregor started wi’ his flock for Ameriky, an’ at the same +time cum that awfu’ affair that finished wreckin’ an auld man’s life. + +“The wicked James o’ England had deed in France, but he had left a son, +the Pretender, as ilka ane cam’ to ca’ him, wha tried to carry oot the +plans o’ his faither. Twa years afore Faither MacGregor an’ his pairty +started for Ameriky, this Pretender tried to stir up anither strife +amang the Scots, but miserably failed. But it cam’ oot that he left ane +ahint tae play the spy an’ betrayer. That ane was Archie McNiel! God +forgie that I should be the ane to say it. + +“This traitor planned to hae the little band o’ emigrants waylaid an’ +slaughtered while on their journey to the coast. But ane he took into +his confidence confessed the secret, and he was frustrated in his evil +ettle. In escapin’ he killed ane o’ the pairty. A fugitive frae that +day, withoot tellin’ Jeannette o’ his infamous doings, he fled wi’ her +tae the highlands. While in his concealment, ma lad, Alick, ran ower +him quite accidental like. Thinkin’ the braw laddie was after him, he +killed his brother! My bonnie boy lived long enough to reach hame an’ +tell me what his brother had done, an’ also telt me that the ither had +fa’en under his avengin’ blow. + +“In my double grief I searched for Jeannette, until I succeeded in +gettin’ her hame. She lived only lang enough for ye tae be born, when +her white soul fled to whaur weepin’ is na kent. She deed o’ grief an’ +shame, Archie McNiel her murderer. Left alane wi’ Mary an’ you, I lived +for you twa until Mary married again, an’ goin’ to her new hame left +Rilma, a bit o’ a bairn, in my keepin’. I ne’er wist what become o’ her +frae that day. In ma loneliness I cam’ tae this country, hopin’ tae +begin life anew, and wi’ the sorrow left out. + +“There, ma braw laddie, ye hae the truth o’ him wha should hae been the +licht an’ strength o’ oor lives, but wha flung a’ awa’. Do you wonder +I hate him, him wha twa times took my ain life by killin’ those dearest +tae me? Ay, I’m an auld man noo, but e’en in my weakness I rise to +curse his name!” + +Here the narrator broke down, burying his face in his hands, while he +wept scalding tears. Norman crossed to his side, and, gently raising +his head, said, softly: + +“I am sorry to have caused you so much pain, grandfather. I am +sorry for father’s sin. I am sorry for poor mother,――for you,――for +Rilma,――for all. Now that I know the sad truth, we will let the matter +drop. Poor, misguided father, he must have been deceived some way; but +I promise you his name shall not be spoken again.” + +At this juncture the Woodranger, who had remained a silent listener +to this pathetic story, turned on his heel, and, with a look on his +countenance no man had ever seen, stole away as noiselessly as he had +come. + +When his grandfather had become more calm, Norman told him of the +forenoon’s adventure, hoping thus to draw the other’s mind from the +affairs which it could be plainly seen were resting heavily on his +heart. + +“I am going up to see Archie Stark,” said Norman, finally. “He can tell +us better what to do than any other man, and his advice will be more +trustworthy. His word will have more weight with the others, too. So +cheer up, grandfather, while I am gone. I will be back soon. Rilma, you +must keep as still as possible. There, I won’t be away long this time.” + +In order to keep even with the events as they transpired, it will be +necessary to mention a little incident which occurred on that forenoon, +before continuing with the fortunes of Norman. Unknown to him, Mr. +MacDonald had not been the only one Gunwad and his companion had come +to Namaske to see on that summer day. On leaving the old Highlander, +they sought a humble cabin on the bank of a small stream tributary +to the Merrimack River, and known to this day in memory of its dusky +occupant, at that time the sole survivor in the vicinity of the once +powerful confederacy of the Pennacooks. + +The two approached the bark dwelling with all the caution of hunters +on the trail. Gunwad’s companion led the way, dodging from tree to +tree, or crawling on his hands and knees through the undergrowth, where +it was thick enough to conceal his form, the deer reeve imitating +his example. Why the twain should have adopted this cautious way of +reaching the humble home of the solitary Indian, in a time of peace, +can only be explained by the fact that both were arrant cowards. +Christian, or Christo, as his name had been shortened, was what was +known as a “praying Indian,” and on amicable terms with the white +settlers. Still, there were always those who were so prejudiced against +the race as not to believe one of them under any circumstance. So +Christo had a hard time of it, though he went about his simple methods +of getting a living with apparent unconcern. + +Gunwad now bore in his pocket a warrant for Christo’s arrest for +shooting deer out of season. Having failed in proving his charge +against Norman, and remembering what the Woodranger had said about the +bullet found in the deer belonging to an Indian, he had lost no time in +seeking his capture. This Pennacook being the only red man known to be +in the vicinity, he felt sure he was on the right track this time. He +had, in his own mind, two reasons for this cautious way of attack. He +was afraid, if he gave the Indian the opportunity, he might resist, or +else take to the forest, and thus escape. + +The deer reeve, after half an hour’s loss of time, found that he +and his companion had taken their trouble for nothing. Upon closer +approach, the rude dwelling gave every appearance of being empty. + +“He may be hidin’ inside, ready to shoot us down in cold blood,” +declared the deer reeve, with a shudder. + +“The bird has flown,” said the other. “There’s no doubt of that,” +starting boldly toward the wigwam. + +“I might have known he would take advantage o’ the time thet young +refugee cost me,” muttered Gunwad, following at the other’s heels. +“Let’s look in an’ see ef there’s enny trace o’ the red rascal.” + +A few primitive cooking utensils, an old net for catching fish, a pair +of discarded moccasins, and a pile of boughs in one corner were about +all that caught the gaze of the intruders. + +“He’s gone, sure ’nough,” acknowledged Gunwad. “So has my share in the +reward. They’re bound to beat me out’n it. But the redskin, if he ever +dares to come back, shall pay dearly for the trouble he has made me. +It’ll add interest, too, to my ’count with them Scot refugees, or I +don’t know black from white. Let’s git back to Cohas.” + +As nothing better could be done, the couple started for the lower end +of the town, Gunwad but poorly satisfied with the result of his visit, +though he was well pleased with the fright he had given Mr. MacDonald. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV. + + NORMAN WORKS IN A STUMP-FIELD. + + +Norman made a wiser choice than he realised at the time in seeking Mr. +Archibald Stark, or “Old Archie,” as he was generally called, though +he was then only forty-seven years old. This Mr. Stark, the father of +Johnny, who figured in our hero’s adventure with the wildcats, was +a native of Glasgow, Scotland. When a young man he had emigrated to +this country, settling first in Nutfield, but afterward moving to Old +Harrytown, upon a lot he had bought of a grantee of the Massachusetts +province. The Stark homestead contained about five hundred acres of +land, of better quality than the land below it, and extended for about +half a mile along the east bank of the river above the falls. Mr. Stark +was an educated man, and his wife a beautiful, kind-hearted woman. +They had seven children, four boys and three girls, and as there were +no schools in the vicinity at that time, these were taught at home. +It was under that kindly and unselfish instruction John Stark got the +education which was so much help to him in the important part he was +to act in the coming wars against Indians and foreign enemies. + +Imbued with the true spirit of progress and a hard worker, Mr. Stark +was the best farmer in Harrytown. He had chosen his location with +happier results than many of the Tyng men, who had been obliged to get +theirs by lot, and he bent his whole attention to improving his land, +and gave but little time to fishing and hunting. + +“The abundance of fish in the river and game in the woods,” he used +to say, “is both a blessing and a curse to the settlers. It is a +blessing, as it affords a means of sustenance to some who might go +hungry; a curse, as many spend their time on the hunt when they should +be improving the soil and their homes. The spade and the hoe are the +staffs of life, not the fishing-pole and the gun. Living by the hunt is +well enough for the savages, but it is not the true way for civilised +people. I am sorry that my boys have such an inclination for living in +the woods. I do believe that Johnny had rather tramp all day through +the wilderness in pursuit of a deer than to eat a good meal of victuals +when he is hungry.” + +Norman found Mr. Stark at work, with his two older boys, William and +Johnny, on a new lot he was clearing off. Johnny was driving a yoke of +oxen, “twitching off” some fallen trees, which had to be drawn together +to be burned. + +Archie Stark and Mr. MacDonald had been on intimate terms ever since +the latter had come to Harrytown, and he was perfectly familiar with +the old Highlander’s sorrows and anxieties. He knew the sad story of +the massacre of Glencoe, as well as the siege of Londonderry, and even +of the mistaken course of Archie McNiel, though he never hinted of the +latter to Norman, whom he respected none the less for the mistakes of +his parent. His greeting, on this August afternoon, was in keeping with +his genial nature: + +“Ho, me lad! come to give an old man a lift? I was thinking of you this +morning and wondering where I could find a likelier lad to help me +clear away these stumps and trees, so as to get this into fit mowage. +I tell you, my lad, it has got to be done, let them fish who will. +Civilised men and women need bread and butter, and oxen and cows must +have hay these long, cold winters. I’ll give you three shillings a day. +Is it a bargain?” + +Three shillings is equal to seventy-five cents, as we reckon it, but +colonial money of those days was of less value than the pound sterling +of Great Britain, which would reduce that amount to about fifty cents a +day. + +Though this offer had come most unexpectedly to Norman, it instantly +appealed to his judgment as an opportunity too good to be lost. + +“I thank you, Mr. Stark; I think I will accept. But I must free my mind +of another matter before I can begin work. I am sorry to――” + +“Tut――tut, lad! don’t let any excuses trouble you. Take a seat on this +fallen tree and tell me all about it. It is always best to have a free +mind. It is too hot this weather to keep at it all the time. Let the +oxen rest, Johnny. Billy, you run down to the spring and get a gourd of +cool water. Now, go ahead, my lad, and mind you make a clean breast of +it.” + +Encouraged with these kindly words, Norman at once began his account of +the shooting of the deer, and of Gunwad’s subsequent course of action, +the other listening without interruption until he had finished. + +“Well, lad,” said Mr. Stark, “I can see why you worry; but cast that +off. I am willing to allow that this Gunwad has it in his power to work +you evil, if his plans succeed. You, or your grandfather, which amounts +to the same, got your lot of a New Hampshire grantee, while I got mine +of a Massachusetts party, one of which had just about as good a title +as the other. But you are in the way of these Tyng colonists. This +Gunwad has bought the right or title, or whatever you may call it, of +the Tyng man who drew that lot. Now he, Gunwad, claims it, and warns +you off. Several others have done the same, and cases are in the court +unsettled. In fact, they cannot be settled until this boundary line +has been settled. If the lower province (Massachusetts) makes good her +claim, you will have to lose your home, always supposing you will get a +little for improvements.” + +“So you advise grandfather and me to move away?” + +“Hold right on, lad! I advise nothing of the kind. These Tyng grantees +have shouldered a burden they little thought of at the outset. +Though they are carrying matters with a high hand now, it is by no +means certain they are going to win in the end. Candidly, I do not +think Gunwad’s warning will amount to much at this time. At the next +Proprietors’ Meeting a vote may be passed to sustain such action, for +he will have the township behind him. But even then, with the boundary +line settled to their satisfaction, there is something concerned +with their success here which few seem to have taken into serious +consideration. In getting these grants the colonists have certain +conditions to carry out, in order to hold their title. They have +got to build a house of seven foot stud, that is wall, and eighteen +feet square; have got to clear four acres of ground and help build a +church within four years. Now none of these conditions were complied +with by the grantee of the lot you occupy. Neither has Tyng Township +yet built any meeting-house or settled a minister, though they can +be excused for this on account of the failure of any one to raise a +mill, as was expected. The mill is now nearly done, and I expect the +lumber will be sawed in season to build the meeting-house this fall. I +mention these facts that you may understand the exact situation. Within +a year I believe this boundary dispute will be settled for ever. If +Massachusetts loses, these grants of Harrytown will not be worth a fig +to these Tyng men.” + +“What will happen then?” asked Norman. + +“The Scotch-Irish grant from New Hampshire will hold the territory, +all except the reserve about Namaske. Your homestead comes in that +territory, but I think you will have no trouble. I have been studying +the situation considerably, and these are my honest convictions. +Wait and see what Gunwad’s next move will be. Now I come back to my +question. Are you going to help me this month, beginning to-morrow?” + +“I shall be glad to do so, as there is not more at home than grandfather +can do.” + +“I am glad of it, as I want to get this lot cleared before the fall +rains. I mean to sow a piece of winter rye. And while you are coming +here to work, and after, I want Rilma to attend our studies. She can go +home with you, if she comes up in the afternoon.” + +Norman thanked Mr. Stark for his kindness, and returned home in better +spirits than when he had left. His report, too, awakened the hopes of +Mr. MacDonald. + +The following morning he began work in Mr. Stark’s stump-field, +beginning by driving the oxen to draw off the fallen trees and uproot +the stumps, learning a lesson of patience and fortitude from those +useful creatures he never forgot. + +Mr. Stark worked busily in the new clearing with his help, always +willing to take hold of the butt end of the log if it happened to come +nearest to him. Nothing seemed to fret him, except a shirk. He despised +a lazy person. + +On the second day that Norman worked for him Zack Bitlock came +shambling into the lot, to begin work. He was still barefooted, his +lank figure clothed in earth-coloured shirt and trousers. He was +accompanied by a youth of fifteen, the exact counterpart of the father, +even to the bare feet, the sunburned face, the shirt and trousers. He +led, by a piece of deer thong, a lean, lank dog, clay-coloured, like +the clothes of its master. Its most remarkable feature was its ears, +which were of such enormous size as to flop up and down with a sort of +“gushy” noise as the creature jogged along at the heels of its human +companions. + +“Gol dang yit, ’squire!” greeted the new arrival, Goodman Bitlock, +senior, “seen the cur’usist sight an’ heerd the cur’usist noise down +yander on th’ sand piles ye ever sot eyes an’ ears on. Me an’ Lige an’ +th’ tarnal dorg――Lige w’u’d take ther critter erlong――wuz comin’ erlong +when th’ dolefulest sound ye ever sot hearin’ on come frum th’ side o’ +th’ road. Sez I to Lige, sez I: ‘Wot in creation mought thet be?’ An’ +th’ dorg pricked up his ears, an’ when thet dorg pricks up his ears set +yit down fer good an’ all there’s sumthin’ round! + +“Wul, Lige an’ me looked, but all I c’u’d see was a leetle albiner +squirrel a-sottin’ on th’ sand pile, but I c’u’d see th’ leetle runt +wuz cryin’ so yit had los’ yit’s pa an’ ma an’ other ’lations. I wuz +natcherly struck by yits ’pearance, an’ I says, says I: + +“‘Whut’s th’ tarnal trubble, leetle feller?’ + +“Then th’ poo’ thing rubbed th’ tears erway with one fore paw, an’ yit +says, says yit: + +“‘Mister, ye air kind, but ye can’t hel’ me.’ + +“‘But I can show ye my good-will,’ says I, I says, ‘so pipe erhead, my +eetle fri’nd.’ + +“Then yit give yits big, sorrerful eyes anuther dab with yits paw, an’ +says, says yit: + +“‘Ye can’t hel’ me, mister. Me pa died yesterday an’ he willed me th’ +hull o’ Ol’ Harrytown, but yit wuz with th’ perwision thet I live in +yit, an’ I,’ givin’ ernuther dab fer yits eye with yits paw, ‘_I hev +got to starve to death!_’ + +“Gol dang ef I don’t think thet poo’ albiner wuz erbout right. Ef we +don’t all starve to death on these sand heaps yit’ll be becos we hev +got so dried up thet th’ wind will blow us erway.” + +“That’s a pretty good story, Zack,” declared Mr. Stark. “If you were as +good in breaking in stump-land as you are at story-telling, you would +be worth your wages.” + +“Which is saying as much thet I ain’t now. Go erlong, ’squire, ef I +weren’t so tarnal good-natured I’d git mad.” + +Norman had now turned the oxen over to Johnny Stark, and with Goodman +Bitlock was helping Mr. Stark fell the big trees growing on the edge of +the clearing, which the owner wished to make larger. These pines, many +of them of huge size, after being felled had to have their branches cut +away, so the cattle could pull them together. In some cases they had to +be chopped in twain before the stout oxen could draw them. Those best +suited to his purpose Mr. Stark was saving to be hewn for the timbers +of a sawmill he was intending to build at an early day. + +Lige Bitlock, though he was older and bigger than the Stark boys, did +not offer to do any work. He spent the most of his time following his +dog through the adjacent growth, or fishing from the bank of the river. + +“If I had such a shiftless boy as that of yours, Goodman Bitlock,” +said Mr. Stark, bluntly, “I’d tie a deer thong around his neck and +throw him over the falls.” + +“Go easy, ’squire, go easy. Thet boy ain’t no fool, an’ he says, says +he, he’s goin’ to make a big hunter like Woodranger.” + +“Got a mighty poor showing, then. What would a whole regiment of +Woodrangers amount to? The more we have of such men the less there is +done in improvement.” + +“Woodranger fit with Lovewell,” replied Bitlock, in whose mind such a +deed made a man a hero fit to worship afar off. “If my Lige c’u’d ’a’ +fit with Lovewell――” + +“He’d been killed long before this, and that would have been a wise +dispensation of Providence to get rid of refuse matter. But if he is so +smart I want him to go down to Mr. Perham’s, and get my long deer rope +which he borrowed more than six months ago. I do wish men would return +as readily as they borrow. We shall need the line in pulling over the +leaning pine up yonder. It will give the oxen more than they can pull +if it falls back over the ridge.” + +“Is th’ rope heavy, ’squire?” + +“Weighs about half a ton! Perhaps you think Johnny had better go along +with him. I can’t spare him. If I could I would send him alone. The +oxen must be kept to work.” + +“Why can’t Archie go?” asked Bitlock. + +Archie was two years younger than Johnny, and, as he was not at work, +his father did not object to his going. + +“Min’ ye, Lige, ye come right back,” said his father. “Don’t go off +inter th’ woods, ’cos ye know erbout thet wildcat screech we heerd.” + +Lige promised to return as quickly as possible, and with his dog at his +side, and little Archie Stark following behind, he set out down the +road. + +“Dunno but I oughter gone with thet boy,” muttered Bitlock, as he gazed +after his hopeful son, scratching his head with sluggish movements. +After standing five minutes looking vacantly at the space where he had +last seen Lige, Goodman Bitlock leisurely picked up his axe, and, after +spending five minutes more in flicking off an accumulation of dirt with +a pine bough, he got to work again. + +When it was getting to be time for the boys to return, he began to cast +anxious glances down the road, until he was startled by the sight of a +well-known figure approaching at a swift run. It was Lige, and he was +startled because it was unusual to see him running at that rate, unless +he was in pursuit of a squirrel or some frightened denizen of the +woods. Lige showed, too, that he was labouring under great excitement, +while his dog kept close beside him, uttering quick, short yelps. + +“Why! whut’s happened now?” cried Bitlock, dropping his axe, and +standing with extended arms and wide-opened mouth. “Whut’s scart ye so, +Lige?” + +By this time all in the clearing had stopped work, to learn what the +trouble was. + +“I ain’t scart, dad!” replied Lige, as soon as he could get his breath +enough to speak. “I ain’t a bit scart, dad; and I’ve come right back, +as ye tole me.” + +Goodman Bitlock drew a breath of relief, while the others resumed work. +The proud father said, in a complimentary tone: + +“Ye’re a smart boy, Lige, an’ ye’ll ermount to sumthin’. How ye mus’ +hev run to git hyur so soon.” + +“I did, dad.” + +He said nothing of Archie or the rope, and Mr. Stark, thinking his son +would soon appear with the deer thong, asked no questions, until five +minutes had passed without bringing the missing boy. + +“We want that rope,” declared Mr. Stark, impatiently. “Why didn’t you +bring it along, Lige?” + +“I left it with Arch.” + +“Where is Archie?” + +“With th’ rope, mister. I had to run to get hyur right back.” + +Mr. Stark grumbled a little because of the non-appearance of Archie, +but for fifteen minutes more nothing wrong was suspected. Then, upon +being questioned more closely, Lige blurted out: + +“I don’t know but th’ b’ar eat him up! I had to run ’way from him to +git right back.” + +Mr. Stark’s inquiries grew more pointed, and the frightened youth +explained that a big bear had attacked them, and that he had barely +escaped by running for his life. + +“And what has become of my poor boy?” cried the distracted father. + +Though realising that it was too late to save Archie, if he had fallen +into the clutches of the bear, Mr. Stark, Norman, and the others at +once started down the road as fast as they could run. + + + + + CHAPTER XV. + + HANGING A BEAR. + + +Meanwhile what has happened to little Archie Stark? Bears, as well as +other wild beasts, were prowling about in the forests, often coming +very near to the scattered dwellings of the pioneers, and at that +season of the year were inclined to be ugly. If Archie had met one +there was small chance that his father and friends would find him +alive. This was the more certain from the fact that fully half an +hour had elapsed since Lige Bitlock had returned to the clearing, and +they would have a mile to go before reaching the scene of his peril, +according to the frightened youth’s incoherent report. + +The boys had made the journey to Mr. Perham’s in safety, and, getting +the rope, started on their return with as little delay as possible. +As the long line of deer thong was quite heavy, they took turns in +carrying it, Lige having the first task at lugging. + +No sooner had Archie taken the rope than, notwithstanding his repeated +promises to his father about getting “right back,” Lige began to leave +the road at intervals, to make détours into the adjoining forest, +always led in these wanderings by his dog, Pluck. Archie remonstrated +with him in vain, trying to frighten him by declaring that he would +start up a wildcat or a bear. + +“I sh’u’d jes’ like to scare up a cat an’ see Pluck pull its fur! Dad +says there is one on th’ island an’――hark! thet dorg has scart up +sumthin’! When thet dorg barks it means sumthin’!” and he bounded in +the direction of the sound. + +But Lige Bitlock had not fairly vanished from sight before he +reappeared with redoubled speed, the yelping dog close beside him. At +the same time was heard the crashing of a huge body lumbering through +the undergrowth at their heels. + +“A b’ar!” yelled Lige, “a b’ar! Run fer yer life, Arch!” + +It proved that the dog had run upon a couple of cubs in the woods, +but it had scarcely begun to bark at them before the old mother bear +appeared. Now a bear is not the most ferocious creature in the world if +not aroused by some unusual action. But a mother bear, filled with the +idea that harm is threatening her cubs, is about as ugly a customer as +any one could wish to meddle with. Lige Bitlock was prudent to flee, +but he was a coward to leave his younger friend to the mercy of the +enraged beast. + +In order to carry the rope with as much ease as possible, Archie had +coiled it about his shoulders. When he saw the brute rushing toward him +he found it difficult to free himself from his burden without stopping +in his flight. So he was obliged to flee, his speed greatly retarded by +the coil of deer thong. He called to his companion, but Lige, looking +back over his shoulder, and seeing the bear close on Archie, sped away +faster than before, while his dog, Pluck, proved itself anything but +true to its name. + +Archie quickly realised that he could not outrun the bear, though he +was favoured in his flight by the fact that one of the cubs, which kept +beside its mother, was continually getting in the clumsy creature’s +way, thus checking her pursuit. He was a brave boy, and determined +to fight for his life when he found that further flight was useless. +Seeing a chestnut-tree standing a short distance back from the road, +and with branches coming down within easy reach, he resolved to try and +climb it before the bear should overtake him. + +Accordingly he plunged through the brushwood, and, quickly reaching the +tree, seized one of the lower limbs, and swung himself up just as the +brute snapped at his bare feet. It was a narrow escape, but, having +fairly got into the chestnut, he ascended like a squirrel to the top. +There he paused for his first breathing spell, and to see what the bear +would do next. + +Not to be cheated of its prey, the aroused creature, after giving a +furious growl, began to climb the tree with a celerity wonderful for +one so clumsy in its movements on the ground. As she mounted higher +and higher, Archie began to tremble lest she should reach him. So up +he went, until the branches became so slender and pliant as almost to +refuse to bear his weight. Surely the bear could not reach him there. + +After gaining a perch as high as she could very well get, the bear +stopped, glaring up fiercely at him and renewing her savage grunts +and growls. She was within eight or ten feet of him, and Archie was +desperate. He felt that he must surely be caught, as she soon began to +ascend still higher, the chestnut swaying far over on one side, as her +ponderous body rose. + +But Mistress Bruin had really climbed as high as she could. After a +few futile attempts to reach her victim, she settled back into her +resting-place, and resumed her threatening cries. + +Thinking that at the worst he would only be compelled to remain there +until friends should come to his rescue, Archie was beginning to feel +hopeful, when the bear began new tactics, which were to prove more +dangerous than any before. + +She began to shake the tree vigorously, and the whole top of the +chestnut shook as if assailed by a September gale. At the outset +Archie was nearly flung from his precarious perch. Soon succeeding +in getting a firmer hold, he held on for dear life, until the bear +stopped, grunting and threatening to renew her attacks. + +He was so high in the air that he knew a fall to the ground meant +broken limbs, if not instant death. He could not pass the bear, so +that escape was cut off. During the brief respite allowed him his mind +was very active, until he believed he had hit upon a plan which might +enable him to escape. He could not be any worse off if it failed. + +He still carried the rope coiled about his shoulders, and he at once +began to remove it, the bear watching his work with evident curiosity, +growling occasionally, and trying to reach the line with one of her +fore paws. He wasn’t a great while in getting the line free, and, +calculating on the length needed for his purpose, he proceeded to +fasten that part to the trunk of the chestnut, as far below him as he +could without getting in reach of the watchful brute. Then he made a +running noose in the opposite end of the thong, being careful to see +that the loop would slip freely. + +With an earnestness a human being might have exhibited the bear +continued to watch him, abandoning for the time her attacks on the +tree. As Archie lowered the noose toward her she snapped at it +furiously, and, missing it, snarled and tried to hit it with her paw. + +Anxiously Archie waited his opportunity, allowing the line to dangle +above her head, though careful to keep it just out of her reach. By +and by she seemed to lose interest in it, and renewed her assaults on +the chestnut, more determined than ever, it seemed, to accomplish her +intentions. + +The critical moment for the brave boy had come, and, not without many +misgivings as to the result, and holding to his precarious perch +with one hand, as she began her vigorous shaking Archie improved his +opportunity to drop the noose over her head. So adroitly did he perform +this act that the stout line fell fairly above her big neck. + +[Illustration: “ARCHIE IMPROVED HIS OPPORTUNITY TO DROP THE NOOSE OVER +HER HEAD.”] + +The moment she felt the line straighten she stopped her attack, and +tried to free herself from the entangling rope. Finding herself unable +to do that, the brute became enraged, and loosened one paw from the +tree to seize on the offending object. The movement was fatal to her. +Archie, watching his time, gave the tree a vigorous shake, feeling that +it was his turn. The result surprised even him. The huge beast suddenly +lost her hold, and, with a furious growl, went crashing down through +the thick branches. + +At first Archie’s heart was filled with fear. He thought he had +miscalculated the length of the rope, and that the bear would fall +to the ground before reaching its limit. Then he was frightened lest +the rope should break. These thoughts flew rapidly through his mind. +Then there came a shock which nearly threw him from the tree. As soon +as it had passed he looked anxiously downward, to see a dark form +struggling in mid-air a few feet above the ground. It was the bear, +which soon became quite motionless. He could hardly credit his eyes, +but upon looking a second time he found the huge carcass still there, +helpless now. + +The danger over, Archie felt very weak from reaction after the +excitement, and as he descended the tree he came near losing his hold +several times. But that was really no evidence of fear. He had shown +himself extremely courageous in the moment of great peril, and had +acted with wonderful fortitude and forethought. + +The dead bear’s cubs were whining piteously under the tree, trying in +vain to reach the lifeless form of their mother dangling above their +heads. Archie watched his opportunity to drop to the ground beyond +their clutch, not knowing but they might make him trouble in their +distracted state. + +A minute later he was running up the road as fast as he could go, +though with different feelings stirring his bosom from those which had +caused Lige Bitlock to use his long legs in covering the ground. After +running a short distance he slackened his speed to a walk, and he was +pursuing his way in this deliberate manner when he was discovered by +his father and the others. At sight of him Mr. Stark ran forward and +clasped him in his arms, with terms of endearment. + +Showing considerable surprise at this greeting, Archie broke loose, +saying: + +“Did you get tired of waiting for the rope, father? I had to leave it +in the chestnut, but if you will let me have your stout knife I can +soon get it for you.” + +“My bonnie boy! what has happened? The bear――where is it?” + +“Hanging high and dry, father, in the old chestnut in the hollow. +Hilloa, Lige! I see you got home all right!” + +Then, upon being questioned, Archie told his story in a modest way, and +was at once the hero of the hour. Around the Stark hearthstone that +evening bear stories were the one absorbing topic of conversation. The +skin of Mistress Bruin was kept for many years in the family, as a +memento of her youthful conqueror. + +Mr. Stark had been so wrought up over the affair that he declared no +more work should be done that day. But, as it was then half past five, +Norman did not feel that he was losing very much time. As Rilma came +daily to recite her lessons, he waited as usual to go home with her. +No sister could have been dearer to him than she, and those walks were +never forgotten, when in later life they were both called into the +midst of more exciting scenes. She delighted to go over with him her +studies, gathering new light and interest from his kindly suggestions, +while he told her whatever of interest had happened to him during +the day. And dull and dreary as were those hours of toil in the +stump-field, he found many an incident which pleased her. + +One evening he had to tell her that Gunwad had been seen in the +neighbourhood of Christo’s lone cabin, but they felt easier when they +found that he had not been at their home. + +“Perhaps he will not try to harm us again,” she said. + +“We will hope not,” he replied, though he knew only too well that such +a hope was vain. The unprincipled deer reeve was not one to give up so +easily. + +His worst fears were realised a week later, when, as he and Rilma were +returning from Mr. Stark’s, they heard the sound of angry voices, as +they approached their home. There was no mistaking the speakers. The +first was their grandfather, whose tone, as well as words, showed that +he was in a raging passion: + +“Out o’ ma house, ye uncanny fule, afore I brak’ this staff ower yer +thick heid!” + +The reply was Gunwad’s, lower, and with an aggravating inflection in +the speech: + +“Lay so much as a finger on me ef ye dare, ye ol’ Scot refugee. I say, +strike me ef ye dare, ye cowardly furriner!” + +“I must get there before grandfather strikes him, or it will fare ill +with us,” cried Norman, rushing toward the house at the top of his +speed. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI. + + GUNWAD TAKES DECISIVE ACTION. + + +Though expecting to meet an exciting scene, Norman was not prepared for +the startling tableau which greeted his gaze as he bounded into the +house. Two men, companions of Gunwad, stood like guards at the door, +while the deer reeve had advanced to the opposite side of the room, +and was shaking his fist in Mr. MacDonald’s face. The latter, who had +allowed all the intense passion of his nature to assert itself, had +retreated to the corner, and was in the act of bringing his stout staff +down on the head of his tormentor. + +With an exclamation of warning, Norman sprang between the two, catching +his grandfather’s uplifted arm in an attempt to turn the intended blow +from the deer reeve. He succeeded in his purpose at the cost of a +stinging stroke on his own shoulder, caused by a sudden turning of the +cane. + +“Don’t strike him, grandfather!” he cried. “Be calm; don’t you see it +is his desire to make you do him harm, and then――” + +“Stand aside, lad! nae sic a dog insults me in my ain hoose! Let me get +but ae whack at him, lad!” + +“No――no, grandfather! you must not so much as touch him. Goodman +Gunwad, please leave this house at once. Grandfather is an old man and +so broken down as not to be himself. When he has recovered from the +excitement your visit has given him we will talk with you. But now, +please spare him.” + +Norman’s appearance had been so sudden and unexpected that the two +men in the doorway had not yet comprehended the situation, while it +was not until he had finished speaking that the deer reeve recovered +sufficiently to say a word. Then he exclaimed, in his blustering way: + +“So――so, my Scotch bantam! so ye pick up th’ quarrel? Jest lay a hand +on me ef ye wanter. I kem hyur peaceful to ask th’ ol’ furriner when +he was goin’ to git out’n my house, and he flew at me like a cat. Be +keerful how ye use me,” retreating a step, as Norman started forward, +showing by his manner that he had no fear for the other. “Here, +Holster, Lawton, don’t let the hot-headed Scotchmen kill me. They air +two to one.” + +“I am not going to lay a hand on you, Goodman Gunwad, if you will go +your way peacefully,” said Norman, as the deer reeve’s companions +advanced into the centre of the room. + +“It’s ernough thet ye hev threatened me, an’ I can prove it. I order +you, Holster and Lawton, to take th’ ripscallion off. The sooner these +furriners air driven out o’ Tyngstown th’ better ’twill be fer all +honest people.” + +“You shall not lay a hand on grandfather,” cried Norman, as the man +called Holster again moved forward. “If grandfather has offered to do +one of you harm it was because you drove him to it. I――” + +“Bah!” exclaimed Gunwad, “I ain’t foolin’ round hyur fer nothin’. Pull +’em both――” + +Though no one had heard the approach of a newcomer, a shadow at that +moment fell across the pathway of the irate deer reeve, and he stopped +in the midst of his excited speech as the stalwart figure of the +Woodranger confronted him. + +“So you are stirring a bit o’ an amazement, Gunwad?” demanded the +forester, sternly. “Sich conduct on your part seems ill-timed to me, +who is not an adept in the wanton ways o’ men. What would you have with +this old man and the lad?” + +“I want ’em to git out’n my house! I jes’ come civil like, armed with +proper authority, and this youngster has sassed me and th’ ol’ man has +tried to club me. I can prove it by my friends here.” + +“No matter about that. Did my ears hear aright, or was it the whispering +o’ a pine, which said that this is your abode?” + +“I said plain ernough thet this is _my_ house! I own this lot, seein’ I +come into fair possession by law. I bought it of one of the grantees of +Tyng Township, of which this is a part. There was no trouble till those +’demned furriners kem hyur.” + +“Easy, Gunwad, easy! When you talk o’ furriners you hit us all on the +head. It is only the poor red man who can say that, and not many o’ +them, seeing the way we’ve kicked ’em from our path, as we would dead +leaves. It is them as have reason to complain.” + +“Ye know well ernough what I mean, Woodranger. It’s these miserable +Scotch intruders.” + +“Who got here afore you did, Gunwad. It may be, without wishing to be +other than neutral in a flame which should never have been kindled, +that I have――” + +“How long has it been sence ye hev sided with these dogs?” broke in the +deer reeve. “So ye hev been a snake in――” + +“Be keerful, Gunwad!” warned the forester, this last statement being +more than he could listen to in silence. “Be keerful and not awaken +an old man’s ire. A snake in the grass, never! I seek no quarrel with +man, and I find none in the free domain o’ natur’. It is only where the +contentions o’ civilisation come that men get at cross purposes. I ’low +that wild creeturs fight, but that should be a lesson to man and not +an example. Don’t you so much as lay a finger on the old man, Gunwad, +or I shall forget my prudence.” + +Woodranger showed that he was making a mighty effort to keep his +feelings under control, while he appeared unusually excited. Gunwad +feared him, and yet with his two companions behind him, and, what +he considered of greater benefit, the law, he tried to think he had +nothing to fear. Happily for him, the man named Lawton came to his +assistance at that moment. + +“You forget the notice I have to read, Gunwad. Perhaps that will bring +them to their senses.” + +“Yes, read the document, Lawton,” said Gunwad, with a look of relief. +“Mebbe that will bring ’em to their senses.” + +By this time Lawton had produced from his pocket a formidable-looking +paper, which he quickly unfolded and began to read: + + “‘At a meeting of the Proprietors of Tyng Township, so called, + regularly warned and assembled at the house of Mr. Isaac + Farwell, Innholder, in Dunstable, the 21st of August, 1740: + + “‘Voted that those persons whose lands in said township and + part of the original Proprietary are trespassed upon, or + are possessed by any person claiming them under grant from + New Hampshire, shall within three months from this meeting + prosecute such persons, who are and be deprived for the future + of any benefit or assistance from the Proprietary in the + defence or recovery of any such lands. + + “‘Also voted that Messrs. Ephraim Hildreth, William Lawton, and + Joseph Blanchard be a Committee fully empowered and directed + at the charge of this Proprietary (by taking a legal owner) to + assist in suing and defending in any action commenced or to be + commenced of trespass or ejectment for or against any person + or persons in trial of the title or trespass, as aforesaid, on + any land belonging to the Proprietary or grantee. Thereof said + Committee, or any one of them, are directed also at the cost of + the Proprietary that if Proprietor, as aforesaid, be arrested + and carried into the Province of New Hampshire[2] by any writ + or process for improving on their lands there to redeem them + from such arrests or arrest, and to take a power of attorney to + appear in their names to prosecute and defend in any matter, + jointly or severally according to the whole tenor of this vote. + + “‘[Signed] + + “‘EPHRAIM HILDRETH, + “‘WILLIAM LAWTON, + “‘JOSEPH BLANCHARD.’” + + [2] Tyng Township was claimed to belong to Massachusetts. + +“What d’ye think o’ thet?” demanded Gunwad, triumphantly, as the other +finished reading. “I reckon thet settles matters at one clip. I’ve got +the province o’ Massachusetts and good King George the Second behind +me.” + +“It is not for me, who is better varsed in the open ways o’ the free +woods to dissemble, Gunwad, and I must confess that the course taken +by the new town is most ill considered. I’m afeerd they will see +disappointment soon, and have reason to regret such thoughtless――” + +“Air ye a fool or crazy, Woodranger? We’ll hev every furriner out o’ +Tyngstown inside a year. Thet new law jes’ fixes every one o’ ’em, and +I ain’t goin’ to let my chance slip. I shall hev to ax ye to step one +side.” + +“Not to allow you to harm a hair on the head o’ this old, innocent man, +who never wronged――” + +“So ye stan’ in fer him? Holster and Lawton, take keer o’ him an’ I’ll +throw th’ ol’ ripscallion out!” + +It was a critical moment. Norman felt that a fight was coming. Robert +MacDonald showed it by the wild light in his eye and the look of stern +determination upon his countenance, as he drew his tall figure up until +he fairly towered, like a blazing column, above Gunwad. Fearing the +worst, Norman gently pushed Rilma to a safer distance, while he moved +nearer his grandfather. + +The bronzed features of the Woodranger suddenly lost their look of +wonted calm. With his habitual swift but silent movement he glided +to the side of the deer reeve, the fingers of his left hand closed +on Gunwad’s long nose, and before that worthy could realise what was +taking place he was led to the door. Then, fairly lifted from his feet, +he was sent several yards away, where he fell in a heap on the ground. +Before his companions could interfere, if they had any intention of +doing so, the forester turned toward them, pointing without a word in +the direction of the door. + +“I have no quarrel with you, Woodranger,” said Lawton, beginning to +retreat. “Come, Holster, let’s get out of this.” + +Without further words the two joined Gunwad, who, as he regained his +feet, shook his fist at the house, saying: + +“Ye shall pay dearly fer this, Woodranger. Ye’re a traitor, and every +man in Tyngstown shall know it. Ez fer ye, ye ol’ Scotch dunderhead, ye +shall be driven out o’ Tyngstown with a withewood at yer heels.” + +The Woodranger was trembling from head to foot, but he offered no +reply, saying to himself rather than to any one else: + +“Man’s consait is beyond comprehension. Ill fares it with him who loses +command o’ himself. I much fear me I’ve committed an indiscretion. The +babbling creetur’ did arouse me more than I knew. Well, alack! I’m not +overmuch pleased with myself. Man never knows his weakness till he lets +his temper overrule his jedgment. I very much fear I’ve committed an +indiscretion.” + +“Are the dolts a’ awa’, Norman, ma laddie?” asked Mr. MacDonald, still +trembling from the effect of his recent excitement. + +“Yes, grandfather, and let us hope they will not come back.” + +“They will, ma laddie, mark an auld man’s words. Sir,” addressing the +Woodranger, “I like the wey ye handled th’ auld skellum, only I wad hae +liked tae hae had my ain fingers in the place o’ yours.” + +“I very much fear me I have committed an indiscretion, and that my +fingers pinched a bit harder than I knew. But he vexed me exceedingly. +I hope you will not suffer for my indiscretion.” + +“We wish to thank you, Woodranger,” said Norman, “for helping us get +rid of the men. Do you think Gunwad can really drive us away?” + +“I’ll warrant he will not without some stern opposition. This trouble +between the two factions of settlers is an amazement no man can read, +though I am of the opinion the end is nearer than most calculate. My +advice, and such offering cannot be counted high on account o’ its +commonness, is not to let the varmint give you a worry.” + +“Oh, kind sir,” cried Rilma, “is it such a dreadful thing to be a +refugee? You are an honest man and you will tell me truly.” + +“Nay, my bonnie lass, let not your heart run away with your jedgment, +as my temper did with mine. You are too young and too gentle to let +such matters trouble your pretty head. But I will say this much, and +I have no wish to dissemble, that it is seldom a term of dishonour. +He who wears it lightest wears it best. For that matter we’re all +refugees, my bonnie lass, and can only make the best o’ it.” + +“What! maun ye gang awa’ sae soon, maister, an’ withoot givin’ us +yer name?” asked the old Highlander. “If I mistake not you’re ca’d +Woodranger, but I fain wad ca’ ye by a dearie name.” + +“No name is so dear to man as that he bears amid the scenes he loves +best. That race, which is seldom at fault in such things, deemed it +suited to me. I have no desire to exchange it for another. Nay, ol’ +man, it has stood by me many a year and it must remain until the eend. +Ol’ Danger would lose his faith in me, and my foot would lose its +lightness, should I change it now,” and shaking his head, he moved +swiftly and silently away. + +“I dinna read, I dinna read him!” muttered Mr. MacDonald, shaking his +own head, as he watched the forester out of sight. + +“He is brave and kind-hearted,” said Norman, warmly. “I cannot help +liking him.” + +Then their conversation naturally turned upon the deer reeve and his +companion, even Norman being obliged to acknowledge that their visit +meant them trouble if not serious harm. To give up their home was a +sacrifice which seemed too great to be met. At any rate, they resolved +to wait and see what Gunwad’s next movement would be toward evicting +them. + +Day after day, however, passed without any change in the situation, as +far as they knew. Gunwad had not reappeared, but what his silence boded +them was more than they could foresee. Perhaps he had some deeper laid +scheme, which was requiring further time to perfect. It might be he had +given up his intentions, though they could not believe that. + +The real cause of the prolonged delay was not from any willingness on +the part of Gunwad, but rather a natural necessity arising from the +slow methods of law. Among the early settlers of New England there were +few who understood the principles or the workings of legal force, and +thus the jurisdiction of courts was limited. The few judges who had +been invested with power to sit upon suits were generally men without +any legal education to prepare them for their perplexing duties. Thus +there was no system or harmony in their rulings, and the inhabitants +were commonly compelled to apply to the General Assembly, which assumed +and exercised jurisdiction in imitation of the English Parliament, as a +Court of Errors and Chancery. So the deer reeve was obliged to prepare +a petition and send it to Boston, that it might in its order be placed +before the proper officials. + +While he was fretting and fuming over the slow process of law, his +intended victims were gradually forgetting his threat, and Norman, +who was still working for Mr. Stark, became greatly interested in the +proposed canoe match. Though of frequent occurrence on the frontier, a +boat race never failed to arouse a keen and wide-spread interest, being +second only to a trial with arms. This trial, planned by the youth of +Harrytown, was of greater novelty than usual, and sure to awaken more +than ordinary rivalry. In fact, owing to the opposing spirits existing +among these colonists, old as well as young could talk of little else. + +Norman McNiel, Robert Rogers, and William Stark were unanimously +selected to represent the Scotch-Irish settlers, while Johnny Goffe, +William Tyng, and James Hazard made up the English crew. It is needless +to say that both sides began at once to practise earnestly. + +During one of these careful trainings on the part of Norman and his +companions, they were delighted to see the Woodranger paddling swiftly +and silently down the stream. + +“Let’s watch him, and perhaps we can learn something from him. +Woodranger, you know, is considered the best paddler in these parts.” + +To the general spectator there is something fascinating in the way a +boat glides through the silvery water under the propulsion of an expert +oarsman. And if this is true of the clumsy boat, the fascination is +doubled and trebled at the sight of the birchen craft of the Indian, +which seems to skim the current without touching,――to fly without +wings! As Billy Stark had said, the Woodranger was not equalled in +the use of the paddle. His canoe was of Indian make, about eighteen +feet long, and built from the winter bark of the white birch, which is +tougher than that of the summer. His smooth, wide-bladed paddle was of +the clearest poplar, “as light as a feather and as strong as ironwood.” +In his skilful handling it touched the water without making a sound, +each stroke sending his frail bark yards on its course. + +The forester had seen the young canoeists, and it wasn’t long before he +sped alongside of them. + +“A fine evening for your practice, lads, which I hope my coming will +not check. In my humble opinion you will need all the benefit you can +get from such trials.” + +“We are right glad you have come, Woodranger,” said Billy Stark, who +seemed inclined to do the talking, “and we want you to give us a +lesson.” + +“Nay, nay, lads, that I cannot do! I have no desire to dissemble in +this amazement, and I am free to confess that I am neutral in the +quarrel hanging over this affair. It would be ill-advised for me to +lend counsel or assistance even to my friends.” + +“Do you think the Cohas boys are going to beat us?” asked Billy, +showing disappointment at the forester’s reply. + +“It is not my knack to be able to tell you, seeing there are true lads +at Goffe’s. I can tell you that nothing is ever lost in being prepared +to do your best. It isn’t so much what you can do individually, as what +you are able to do all together. I see Rob has the bow paddle, Billy +the middle, and Norman the stern. In my humble opinion, that shows good +jedgment. Your craft is a good one, its brown colour showing that it is +made of winter bark, and your paddles appear to be clean ash. I prefer +poplar, which is lighter and less inclined to spring, but that is only +an old man’s whim. It all lies with you; good evening,” and, without +further words, the Woodranger sped away as silently as he had come. + +“Funny he couldn’t give us just a hint!” said Billy. + +“It seems to me he did give us two hints, which may be the winning of +the victory for us. Let us be prepared to do our best, and to work +together. Let that be our key-note. Now, boys, together!” + + + + + CHAPTER XVII. + + THE CANOE MATCH. + + +It was a still September day,――an ideal day for the canoe match. The +sky had taken on that peculiar sapphire hue so common to the season. +Never had the limpid current of the Merrimack shone clearer along the +two-mile course where it moved with sluggish motion toward the Falls +of Namaske. If the day was ideal, so was this portion of the sparkling +stream an ideal track for the light barks of the rival canoeists. + +At a point where a bend in the bank curved sharply toward the west, +cutting in twain the beach of white sand, a crowd of spectators had +gathered to witness the great event of the autumn. A dozen feet above +these twin knots of anxious watchers, standing on a wide, smooth +breadth of land,――a natural terrace,――were twice their numbers. Under +the giant pines, rearing their straight trunks from seventy-five to one +hundred feet into the air without a branch to mar their symmetry, and +tufted at the top with oval masses of foliage, the view was extended +and beautiful. A hundred yards to the rear the ground ascended +abruptly in a far-reaching hill, which was covered with a heavy growth +of trees. + +Not satisfied with such advantages as the others had obtained to watch +the race, four adventurous boys had climbed into the topmost branches +of a pine growing on the river’s bank, and which some storm had so far +uprooted as to cause the forest monarch to lean far out over the water. +Foremost of this quartette was Lige Bitlock, for once obliged to leave +his dog in the background. From this position a good view of the river +was had for the entire distance of the course, so straight does the +stream flow at this portion of its journey. + +It was now a quarter to two o’clock, and in fifteen minutes the race +was expected to start. Both parties of the rivals were already on the +ground, or rather water, the observed of all and the subjects of a +continual flow of running comments. All of the preliminary arrangements +had been made, excepting that most important one of selecting a judge. +That was the exact situation, though in the minds of all a unanimous +selection had been made by both sides. Woodranger was that choice. But +the forester for some reason had not appeared, and until he came and +accepted the trust, it could not be said a judge had been obtained. No +one knew where he was. Neither was it certain he would come at all. In +that dilemma Captain Goffe was expected to decide the match. It was +generally understood that he would not accept if the Woodranger came. +So you see that while the judge was really chosen, no one knew who he +would be. + +In this anxious delay, though the time set had not fully arrived, the +onlookers, as they generally do, got impatient. The two committees were +besieged with questions. + +It was to be a three-mile race, the canoeists going up-stream a mile, +and turning and going down-stream a mile below the starting-place. +This rather unusual way of conducting the match had been decided upon +from a wish to give the spectators the best possible opportunity to +witness the trial. Both teams were claimed to be in fine condition, and +certainly everything else was in their favour. + +Naturally, none were more impatient for the match to open than +the contestants, who had paddled to positions nearly opposite the +spectators, and were discussing the prospect in whispers among +themselves. + +“Do you think we shall win?” asked Billy Stark, who was a little +nervous over the trying situation. + +“Let us think so until we are fairly beaten,” replied Norman. “Remember +very much depends on the last mile. Don’t get winded going up the +stream. If Johnny does get ahead of us, don’t let that fact discourage +you. It is the last part that counts.” + +“And be careful how you drop your paddle,” said Robert Rogers, who +was not inclined to talk much on occasions like that. “You must not +get ahead of Mac and me. Remember, Billy, that we must move exactly +together.” + +“Ay, you remember those were the last words of Woodranger,” said Norman. + +“I wonder where the old fellow is,” commented Billy. “I believe I could +do better if he were here. I had rather he would be judge than Captain +Goffe. It doesn’t seem right to have Johnny’s father to decide a race +in which his own boy is captain.” + +“That is why Captain Goffe does not like to accept. Captain Blanchard +was asked, but he said he couldn’t be here. What is that cheering for?” + +Until then the crowds had been silent, but now a lusty cheer was given +by those on the terrace, though the spectators below them remained +quiet. The cause of the outburst was soon explained by the appearance +of Captain Blanchard, who had been seen by those from their elevated +position before their companions. + +“I had rather he would be umpire than Goffe,” declared young Rogers. + +Meanwhile a conversation of somewhat similar nature, though varied +to suit the desires of the rival crew, had been carried on. It is, +perhaps, needless to say that the Cohas boys were as confident of +winning the match as their opponents. The spectators seemed about +equally divided in their favours and hopes. + +“I tell you what it is, Mac, I’ll wager my first fall pelt that the +Namaske boys are going to whip ’em others!” exclaimed a tall, bony +looker-on, whose appearance showed plainly his place of nativity. + +“Ne’er fear o’ my taking ye up, Archie, though it do seem Goffe’s crew +air in deadly ’arnest,” replied a companion. + +“An’ going to bite vict’ry right out o’ th’ Scotch boys’ teeth!” +exclaimed a third. “I’ll take yer bet, Archie, ef McPherson daresn’t!” + +“Done!” was the quick rejoinder of the first speaker. “I’m sure o’ +doubling my game.” + +“Th’ Goffes were never beaten!” interjected another. “See whut a +breadth o’ chist Johnny has. Jis’ like his father. An’ sich forearms! +Then there’s Jimmy! Jimmy’s going to last till th’ last stroke. Ah, +Cap’n Goffe knowed who to pick. With him fer judge we’re sure.” + +“Avaunt wi’ yer nonsense! Whut’s Johnny Goffe’s brawn compared to +young McNiel’s arm? Mac can take one in each hand an’ flip their heels +togither. Whut’s Johnny’s craft compared to Robby Rogers’s cunning? +Robby is Woodranger’s favourite and trained in his ways. Them two +air th’ boys fer me,――the boys who made th’ handsomest shots at th’ +Pines. But whut air th’ committees doing now? Why be they buzzing Cap’n +Blanchard so?” + +The committees, aided by Captain Goffe, were urging Captain Blanchard +to accept the position of judge of the race, when a louder cheering +than any before broke upon the scene, the wild cries prolonged into a +series of huzzas which rang far and wide up and down the river. Nor had +they far to look for the explanation, for a canoe, skimming the water +with bird-like swiftness, and holding the well-known figure of the +Woodranger, was to be seen near at hand. + +The chairman of the committee at once beckoned to the forester, who +sped his light craft near to the anxious group. + +“You’re the one we’ve been looking and waiting for, Woodranger. We want +you to act as judge of the match. You’re better versed in canoeing than +any of us, and you’re just the one to decide the race.” + +To the surprise and disappointment of all, the forester shook his head. + +“I durst not do it, man, I durst not do it. Varsed in the ways o’ +dipping a paddle I may be, and though it be not proper for me to say +it, I may have picked up the knack o’ the red man’s cunning. But there +be personal p’ints in this matter, which would make it an indiscretion +for me to meddle. I might be accused, and mind you I say not without +reason, o’ partiality. Robby, you mus’ remember, is my pupil in the +great school o’ natur’. And the lad, McNiel,――but I need not detail +my mind. They’re six likely lads, and I love and respect them all. I +thought mebbe I’d sort o’ trail along behind, and if anything――mind +you, I say if anything unforeseen does happen,――not that I’m expecting +it,――I’ll be near to lend a helping hand. More’n that I durst not +undertake. I cannot dissemble; I’m neutral in this matter.” + +Understanding that it would be useless to urge the Woodranger to do +what his judgment did not dictate, the committee then pressed Captain +Blanchard to accept the trust. The latter did not hesitate, after +finding that their first choice could not be pressed into service. +His acceptance was very agreeable to both sides, for though the +Proprietors’ clerk of Tyng Township at the time, he was known to be +always fair in his dealings with both factions. + +No sooner was this decision reached than Chairman Hall jumped upon a +handy stump, and shouted so as to be heard by every one: + +“Arrangements completed. ’Squire Blanchard will decide the race. Are +you in the canoes ready for the word?” + +“Ready!” rang out the word in six voices, as if spoken by one, falling +clearly on the profound silence which had now bound the spectators. + +“Ready it is, then. Time! One, two, three――go!” + +So well had the starter timed himself that it was exactly two o’clock +by Captain Blanchard’s watch as the signal was given. + +As one the six paddles dropped into the water, and side by side the +two canoes shot up the stream, while loud, prolonged cheers from the +spectators made the woods ring. + +“It were a fair start and above discussion,” said the Woodranger to +himself, as he sent his light bark in the silvery track of the rival +canoes. “I’m afeerd Robby has set a stroke that’ll puzzle ’em to hold +to the eend. Three miles ain’t like spinning a few yards for fun. But, +Lordy’s me! how I do take on, and the race only begun.” + +It was a beautiful sight to witness, to see the six paddles rise and +fall with such automatic precision that they seemed to be moved by +machinery, while the heads and bodies of the rowers rose and sank with +equal regularity. After the first outburst the crowds again became +silent, and, except the splash of a paddle now and then, as one of the +rowers failed to feather the edge as he wished, not a sound broke the +stillness of the autumn air. + +But it was soon evident that the boys of Cohas were gaining on the +others. At first the spectators were in some doubt of this, but it soon +became certain, even to the most skeptical. Renewed cheering was then +begun, though only the friends of the English boys now did the shouting. + +“What’d I tell ye!” cried an overzealous admirer. “Johnny Goffe is sure +to come in ahead. Hurrah for the boys o’ Cohas!” + +Others took up the cry, until it rang far and wide, encouraging the +three from the lower settlement to greater exertions. Woodranger, +hearing the cries and realising the situation, shook his head. + +Straight as a bee-line did the canoes speed up the river toward the +buoy in the middle of the stream, around which they were expected to +pass and then return to the goal two miles down the watery course. The +boys of Cohas were showing themselves to be of true metal, as well they +might and should, for the work they were destined to perform in later +years. Every one of the three earned a name that for border sagacity +and intrepidity still lives in colonial history. Johnny Goffe, well +worthy of the name of his father, who trained John Stark in the manual +of arms and was General Sullivan’s master of tactics, sufficient honour +for one, to say nothing of his own proud career, had set the stroke for +his crew; and if it was begun at a tremendous pace, he showed no signs +of faltering, as slowly, inch by inch, yard by yard, they continued to +gain on their rivals. At the turning-point, as they swung silently and +swiftly around the buoy, the boys of Cohas were three canoe lengths in +the lead! + +Some of the spectators had followed as near as they could in canoes, +while others had tried to keep the race in sight by running along the +bank. Foremost of all flew the Woodranger, casting furtive glances, +ever and anon, toward the rivals. + +“The boys of Cohas have turned the buoy four rods ahead!” some one +shouted, and others catching up the cry, it rang from throat to throat, +until it was heard from start to finish. + +“The boys of Cohas lead――the race is theirs! Hurrah for the Tyng boys! +Hurrah for Johnny Goffe!” + +If the latter was getting the lion’s share of the praise, he was the +coolest of the trio. + +“Well done, my hearties!” he cried, as they sent the canoe head down +the stream. “It will be easier now, and we ought to win!” + +“We will!” exclaimed Jimmy Hazard, from between his clenched teeth. +But, while he would not own it to himself, he was sorely tried with the +long up-pull. + +If the boys of Namaske felt any undue anxiety, they did not show it, +but continued to rush ahead with a stroke which their rivals did not +equal for precision and silence. + +“They handle their paddles like Indians,” said the Woodranger to +himself, paying them the highest compliment he could. But shaking his +head, he resumed, “I have strange misgivings. I hope they have not +committed an indiscretion by letting the others get so far ahead of +them. No――no! it cannot be. Alack! how childish I am getting to be.” + +Now that the canoes had turned the upper end of the course, there was +a scramble on the part of the spectators to get where they could best +witness the close struggle they believed must take place on the last +quarter. Captain Blanchard, in a canoe, had already stationed himself +where he could command a close view of the finish, the critical point +in the trial. + +The boys of Cohas, confident of victory, and with the strength such +confidence gives, were still sending their canoe gliding over the water +at an amazing rate of speed, their friends now continually urging them +on with exultant cries. + +Neither were the boys of Namaske idle. They realised that it would +not do for them to allow their rivals to gain another foot, and as +they swept around the buoy they quickened their movements, soon +lessening the distance between them and the others. So closely were the +spectators watching them, that even the fraction gained was noticed, +and the Scotch-Irish improved their opportunity to cheer. But their +cries were drowned by renewed yells from the others, who felt that the +honours belonged to them. + +“Robby has a good arm for a lad o’ his age,” soliloquised the +Woodranger, as he witnessed the spurt of those whom it was plain he +favoured in spite of his wish to remain neutral; “but he’s too young to +hold out to the eend. I’m much afeerd――alack a man! why will I fill my +ol’ mind with sich foolishness. They are all likely lads, and the best +must win.” + +As one better versed in canoeing, as well as in all phases of wildwood +life, Norman had gladly consented to allow Robby Rogers, though younger +than himself, to be the leader of their crew; but now he was beginning +to think the boy ranger was making a mistake in not giving their rivals +a closer pull at the outset. It was true he felt as fresh as at the +opening, but of what avail would be all of their reserved energy if +they delayed too long the effort to recover the distance they had +lost? Certainly it would soon be too late for them to hope to gain +the victory. Filled with these thoughts, he said, in a low tone, but +plainly heard by the others: + +“Has not the time come for us, Rob?” + +The reply came in a clear tone: + +“Quicker――deeper, lads!” + +Then something of the reserved strength of the three was brought into +action. The paddles flashed forth a continual stream of sunlight, while +the silvery trail behind the flying canoe was unbroken for a long +distance. Their friends on the river bank, realising the change, gave +an encouraging cheer. This was drowned, however, by the shouts of the +Tyngs party, who seemed determined to do all the applauding. + +Johnny Goffe caught something of the meaning of this new outburst on +the part of the Cohas party, and he endeavoured to arose his companions +to still more effective work. Then, for the first time, he learned that +his crew had begun to feel the effect of their overtasked strength. But +this did not disconcert him. With the advantage they had already won, +it was only necessary for them to hold their own now. He never doubted +their ability to do that. + +It was a beautiful sight to see the rival canoes skimming the silvery +current like twin birds, the swift-moving paddles looking not unlike +the white wings of a pair of snowy swans. If the friends of the boys +of Namaske boasted that their champions had begun to gain on the Cohas +crew, the admirers of the latter claimed that it was not enough to +give them any alarm. The Woodranger, than whom no one had watched the +contest closer, or with nicer calculation, knew that half a canoe’s +length had been taken from the gap lying between the two crafts. + +Two-thirds of the distance had now been made, and both crews were +apparently doing their best. Slowly but surely the boys of Namaske were +overhauling the others. As this became certain, all cheering ended, as +if the situation was now too momentous for any display of feeling, and +every one stood in silence, intently watching the race. With the skill +and rapidity which seemed to be a sort of second nature to him, the +Woodranger was keeping almost abreast of the rivals, when he thus was +the first to see the disaster which befel the rear crew. + +Suddenly, as Billy Stark plied his paddle with increasing power, a +sharp crack, sounding like the report of a firearm, rang loud and +clear, and he reeled over as if shot, and fell in the bottom of the +canoe. Nearly every spectator thought he had been shot, and cries of +horror were heard in every direction. + +But there had been no gunshot, no foul play, as far as any person was +concerned. Instead, an accident had occurred almost as disastrous, +as far as the match seemed concerned. His paddle had snapped asunder +under his great exertions, sending him upon his back at the feet of his +companions. + +The frail bark careened, and as Norman and Rob realised the disaster +to their assistant, both felt that their hopes were lost. In the face +of such odds they could not hope to win. + +“It’s no use,――our race is over!” gasped Rob. He had hardly given +utterance to the hopeless words, when a clarion voice rang over the +water, crying: + +“_The brave never give up!_” + +It was the Woodranger who uttered the stirring declaration, and the +words came like an inspiration to Norman McNiel, who quickly rallied, +saying to his companion: + +“Don’t give up, Rob! We _must_ win!” + +It was fortunate then they were comparatively as fresh as at the +outset. The exertions of the race so far had only served to temper the +vigour in their strong limbs. Rob Rogers instantly threw off his fears, +and, himself again, he handled his paddle as he had never done before. +Norman had already set the example, and as if the strength of two Billy +Starks had been imparted to their arms, they sent the canoe ahead like +an arrow sprung from a bow with giant power. Before the spectators had +recovered from their surprise enough to realise what had taken place, +the two boys had covered half of the distance between them and their +rivals. + +It was true it was now two against three, but they seemed possessed of +the strength of four. The scene which followed held the onlookers dumb +with wonder. In his excitement Lige Bitlock climbed so far out on his +perch that the branch beneath him broke with a loud snap, sending him +headforemost into the water. But no one heeded his cries or appeals for +help, while he floundered in the river. Every eye and every thought was +concentrated on a more stirring sight. + +Johnny Goffe heard and realised enough to know that something had +befallen his opponents, but he felt that it must have been to their +advantage, for he found that they were gaining on him faster than ever. + +“They must not――they shall not beat us!” he cried. “On, Jimmy, Willy, +win or die!” + +It was a stirring appeal, but Jimmy Hazard was too worn out to rally +successfully, while his companions lacked the iron will and reserved +strength of the sturdy limbs of Norman McNiel and Robert Rogers. +Swifter and swifter this couple sent their light craft onward toward +the goal, gaining on their rivals at every bite of the paddles. Nearer +and nearer they flew, foot by foot, yard by yard, until they were now +abreast! + +But both were now down close to the finish line. The Tyngs spectators +still believed and hoped that their champions could hold their own for +the short distance left. + +“Hold ’em a jiffy, Johnny!” yelled an excited onlooker. “Don’t let ’em +get ahead. Hurrah for the boys of Cohas!” + +The other side was silent, breathless, during that brief interval of +fearful suspense. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII. + + THE FALL HUNT. + + +With the cries of frenzied spectators ringing in their ears, with such +wild energy in their limbs as they had never known, Norman and Rob +sent their canoe ahead of the boys of the Cohas. The next moment they +crossed the line four yards in the lead of their rivals. + +The boys of Namaske had won! What cheering followed! Never was such +a scene witnessed on the banks of the Merrimack River, never, unless +in the unwritten history of the red men some such race had been made +and won by the dusky champions of the birchen skiff. The Scotch-Irish +shouted until they were hoarse, and shouted still, when hardly an +articulate sound left their lips. Let it be said to their credit, the +Tyng colonists acted a most generous part. + +Johnny Goffe was the first to clasp the hands of his successful rivals, +expressing his honest congratulations. + +“And to think,” said the humiliated Billy Stark, “they did it without +me. No, Johnny, I deserve none of your praise. That miserable paddle of +mine broke like a pine limb in the midst of it, when I was needed most. +Woodranger told me that knot would sometime spoil it, but I thought I +knew better than the old man, with all his cunning. I am sorry, Norman, +Rob, that I failed so, but honestly it was no fault of mine.” + +“We know it, Billy,” said Rob. “But candidly I think we did better than +we could have done if you had not broken your paddle. Do you know that +put such strength into my arm as I had never felt before. It seems to +require some great crisis to bring out a feller to his best.” + +“That and Woodranger’s words,” said Norman. “Do you know, Rob, it +seemed just as if he had given me his strength when he shouted to us. +Where is he now?” + +“Why, there he goes up the river! What has happened? There is a great +commotion going on up by the leaning pine.” + +“Some one is in the river. Looks as though he was drowning.” + +“And there goes Woodranger to save him. He’s all right now. Let’s talk +some more about the match. Don’t you boys feel grand?” + +“Why shouldn’t they?” asked a brawny spectator, who had elbowed his way +down to the river’s bank. “I want to get hold of their hands. Boys,” +he continued, as he held a hand of each of the victors, “I’d rather +walked a hundred miles than to miss that sight.” + +That seemed to be the sentiment of all, even among the Tyng colonists. +It was noticed that day, and Archie Stark commented upon it, that there +appeared to be less bitter feeling among the younger generation than +was shown by their parents. + +“It shows that this difference of opinion is going to wear away,” he +declared. + +In the congratulations showered upon him from every side, and among +them the sweet praise of Rilma, Norman ought to have felt proud and +satisfied. But there was one who had not come near him or Rob, whom +he had desired to see at that time above all others. That one was the +Woodranger. So he looked and waited for the opportunity to speak to +him, as soon as Lige Bitlock had been rescued from his ducking. But no +sooner had the forester saved the half-drowned boy than he disappeared, +and no one saw him again that day. + +Somewhat to Norman’s surprise, his grandfather had come to witness the +match, and he praised him as only he could. Probably no one there felt +prouder of the victory than the old Highlander. + +“Yer a true MacDonald wi’ the best o’ McNiel,” he said. + +After the trial was over the majority of the spectators lingered about +the place, several participating in impromptu races on the river. +Norman, Rilma, and Mr. MacDonald, however, soon sought their home. + +On the whole, the match had passed off satisfactorily, and it was much +talked of for many days. No one, not even the defeated boys of Cohas, +felt worse than Billy Stark. But of course no blame was attached to +him, and in the joy of the others he soon forgot the mishap which had +robbed him of his share of the coveted glory. + +In the month of October, generally during the full moon, it was +customary for many of the pioneers to take what was considered “the +fall hunt,” just as the Indians had done before them. Some did this +from a desire to lay in a stock of meat for the winter, and many others +from the pleasure they found in it. These excursions were not usually +extended to a great distance on account of the plentiful supply of game +near home. + +Though this was his second season in the country, Norman had not +taken one of these trips, which he felt must be filled with sport and +adventure. He had found that his friends, the Scotch-Irish, were less +inclined, as a rule, to pursue such expeditions. But upon speaking his +wishes to Rob Rogers, the boy ranger, he at once found a congenial +spirit. + +“I have been thinking of the same thing, Mac, and I have decided on +the direction to go. The rest are scurrying toward the Uncannoonucs +or up the river. We want to go to old Pawtuckaway Mountain, taking +Massabesic Pond on our way. I will tell you what else I have been +thinking of. Let’s ask Woodranger to go with us. He’s the best company +we could have. And ask the Stark boys to go.” + +“Just what I would like to do. I am sure Billy and Johnny will be glad +to do so. But can we get Woodranger? I have not seen him since the +canoe match. Wasn’t it singular he left in the way he did?” + +“To you it may seem so, but to me it was just like him. He has been +‘perambulating the woods,’ as he calls it, ever since, I dare say. +He’ll come in soon, and then I’ll speak to him about it. I am sure he +will go with us, so you can make your calculations accordingly.” + +The boy ranger proved himself a true prophet in more ways than one. The +very next day the Woodranger appeared at Goffe’s Falls, and he readily +consented to accompany the boys on the proposed hunt. That evening Rob +came up to see Norman and tell the good news. + +“I have seen the Stark boys,” said our hero, “and they are as anxious +to go as we are. Mr. Stark has consented, provided Woodranger is to go, +and grandfather has kindly promised that I may be gone four days. I +can get ready any time the rest can.” + +“Then we’ll start Monday morning, and I predict that we’ll have a grand +old time. Have you got plenty of powder and ball?” + +“Plenty of powder, and I will run up some balls to-morrow. I suppose we +shall want to take some skins with us, as a protection from the night +air?” + +“Just a blanket apiece. Don’t want to load down with such articles. A +blanket, a bough house, a sheltered spot in the woods, and you will +sleep like a bear in winter. + + “‘Oh, a rifle good, + In the merry greenwood, + And a hunter’s life for me!’” + +Now that they began to get ready to go, the greatest fear of the boys +was that a storm might set in at the time they wished to start, and +last for a week or more. But the eventful Monday was ushered in with a +clear sun. Norman felt more reluctance than he had anticipated about +leaving home; but, knowing his desire to go, both his grandfather and +Rilma earnestly desired him to improve the opportunity, declaring they +would have no difficulty in getting along for a few days without him. + +“It’s yersel’ I am worried ower, laddie. Ye maun be unco careful. +An’ mind ye, laddie, tak the auld horn. It’ll prove handy, always +remembering it was that which sounded the ca’ to airms in Glencoe, it +was that which rallied the lads to battle when the Britons swarmed ower +us like bees, an’ that which sounded the retreat when it was a’ ower +wi’ the bauld clan. Tak it, laddie; ye’re worthy o’ it.” + +Nothing loath, Norman did as he was requested, and kissing Rilma a +tender good-bye, and clasping the old Highlander’s hand in his, he +hastened after his companions, who were waiting for him a little below +the house. + +It was the first time he had met the Woodranger since the canoe race, +and the forester’s greeting was most cordial. + +“Don’t think I am less glad to see you, lad, because I ran away that +day. I have always noticed that the best trait a man has is that o’ +caution, and, the truth be told, I durst not meet you then. I feared +me much I had committed a blameful indiscretion in bawling out like +a loon, as I did. Tell me truly, lad, hast heerd any one speak very +bitter o’ that indiscretion o’ mine?” + +“Not one has mentioned it within my hearing, Woodranger. But I want +to tell you that it saved us the match. We should have given up after +Billy’s mishap, if you had not spoken as you did.” + +“I feared it, lads, I did. It seemed a sorry amazement to spoil sich +a fine race. It pleases me much to know people were so considerate +o’er my foolishness. Aweel, now’s me, lad, we are but weak mortals, +no stronger in our greatest strength than our weakest p’int. It was a +handsome race. I’m proud o’ sich lads.” + + + + + CHAPTER XIX. + + DEER NECK. + + +The outfit of the little party was very simple. The Woodranger was +content with his faithful Danger thrown over his shoulder, and plenty +of ammunition. Of course the boys had been careful to take a good +supply of powder and ball. The Stark boys, at the urgent request of +their mother, had a bagful of bread and doughnuts, which she knew +would not come amiss. Johnny had strenuously opposed this, as he +considered it showed a weakness on the part of hunters. Each of them, +excepting the forester, carried a wolf-skin made into as small a roll +as possible, and fastened on their backs. Johnny had objected even to +this, but before their return he was glad to have heeded a mother’s +thoughtful interest. + +They left the Falls by the main road leading to the centre of the +Scotch-Irish settlement, but upon reaching the few scattered homes of +these pioneers the Woodranger plunged boldly into the primeval forest, +stretching away in every direction farther than the eye could survey, +mile on mile of wildwood, broken only here and there by some small +clearing of an adventurous settler. Extending over such a vast area, +the forests covered mountain and hillside, valley and plain, margined +the banks of numerous ponds, or fringed with overhanging branches +innumerable silvery streams. + +Norman, who had not seen as much of wildwood life as his companions, +felt a strange, awe-inspiring sensation on entering deeper and deeper +into the trackless and sunless region. The Woodranger showed that he +was in his true element, and it was not long before the exuberance of +spirit, welling up in his heart, as the fountain in the forest finds +an outlet for its overflowing treasures, sought an escape in his rude, +philosophical speech: + +“Man is nearest human natur’ when alone with the works o’ his Creator. +I do not have to go to the haunts o’ man to find the imprint o’ his +hand. It is on the forest everywhere. What better evidence do you want +o’ man’s pride than in yon pine, which lifts its cap a good fifty +feet above the heads of its neighbours? What is more typical o’ man’s +aggressive natur’ than that oak, which claims, and holds too, double +the sarcuit o’ territory that even the proud pine possesses? In that +silver birch, growing by the bank o’ that leetle stream, is the very +personification o’ grace and beauty and modesty. See how the tiny +vines cling to it, as if it were their natural mother. I love the +birch best o’ all the wildwood trees. It may be there are more useful +ones, and I am mindful of the ash that makes a tolerable paddle, and +the poplar, better yet. There be many others better and more useful, I +allow, but still I love the birch. + +“The other day, at the shooting-match, which was ’p’inted to take place +on sacred ground ’cording to my idee, I thought o’ the forests then. +To him who could ’a’ looked down on that mob there was only an uneven +flooring o’ heads, one looking very much like another. But underneath +were all kind o’ visages, and some were black with hate, and some were +white with rage; some wore peaceful looks, and some looks o’ trouble +and o’ fear. Everywhere was a spirit o’ rebellion and extermination +o’ the other. Some were men o’ intellect and eddication, stalwart o’ +figure and handsome o’ feature; others were dwafted in body, stunted in +mind, and poor in the knowledge that comes from others’ experience. I +pity sich, and none more than myself. + +“To him who stands on the mountain and looks down on the forest, the +sight presents a scene o’ many hues, but symmetrical and suggestful o’ +quiet and repose. But below is a gnarled and tangled mass o’ drooping +branches, mossy trunks o’ fallen trees, stunted undergrowth stifling +for the sunlight o’ which it has been robbed, distorted limbs and +knotted roots that will thrust their forbidding bodies into sight, all +festooned, here and there, with draperies o’ ferns and vines reeking +with the cold sweat o’ their damp environments. Dead trees, like +spectres o’ departed greatness, thrust their skeleton arms mutely +toward the sunlight, while lean, starved trees eke out a miserable +existence beside more fortunate kindred, which have grown to undue +girth, just as some men fatten on their relations. An asthmatic beech, +a consumptive pine, a stunted birch live only at the mercy of some big +overbearing oak. + +“So you see it is continual warfare among the trees,――a case o’ the +survival o’ the strongest, as it is among men. A hundred infant trees +have been dwarfed and suffocated by this giant pine, which, like some +big general, will stand lordly and grand until the silent axe o’ the +gray destroyer shall fell it to make room for another, which will grow +and fatten on its decaying carcass. Unnumbered seedlings spring each +season from the rich mould o’ them which have perished afore ’em, and +they, too, become food for the next generation. Not one in a thousand +survives in the struggle for the sunlight which means life to them, and +yet in the grand march o’ ages those few have made the innumerable host +surrounding us. + +“I never see one o’ the Massachusetts men without thinking o’ the +tall, haughty, defiant pine, unbending to the strongest blasts, and +as changeless as the December sky on a moonlit night. The Scotch-Irish +remind me o’ the stubborn, aggressive oak, spreading out its branches +where it listeth, severe and fearless, but generous and hospitable to +those who find the way to its heart. The two clans o’ trees can never +live together, as many other species o’ the forest do. + +“But forgive me, lads, for running off into this sarmon at the outset. +You must think me a pretty companion to let my foolish tongue lead me +sich a race. I fear me much my tongue is like a runaway brook, for +ever babbling o’ what it cannot in reason know. I often find myself +listening to its lectures, when there be none other to hear, unless the +trees have ears.” + +“But your talk is always interesting. You have such new ideas.” + +“As old as natur’, lad, as old as natur’.” + +At this juncture, very much to the surprise of Norman, they came upon a +hard-beaten path, winding through the forest. + +“It is an old Indian trail,” said the Woodranger, “and it leads down to +the shore o’ a pond, which we shall reach sooner than you now think. +Look! even now we ketch a glimmer o’ the water through the tree-tops. +You see that neck o’ land holding that leetle patch o’ earth out into +the pond by the throat? Weel, that is called Deer Neck. It was a +favourite drive for the red men, who delighted in chasing the deer down +here by the dozen, and, having cornered ’em, kill ’em off at their +pleasure. + +“It was a plan o’ the reds to lop down brushwood wherever they found a +deer path, until they had built an enclosure of considerable extent. +They were never particular about having the fence straight; in fact, it +was better to let it jog as it happened. But they were sure to bring +the ends close together at the mouth, so there was leetle chance for +the creatur’ to get out once he had entered the pound. Some o’ ’em, +too, would always guard the gap. Inside the grounds was filled with +hedges and mazes o’ brushwood, while at every corner they set snares +made o’ deer thongs o’ amazing strength. One end o’ the thong was +usually made fast to a sapling, if one was convanient. If not, a loose +pole was used, they being keerful to have it heavy enough so the deer +could not drag it away.” + +“But with their tools I should have thought it would have taken them a +lifetime to build such a pen.” + +“Hast seen the beavers work, lad? These patient creatur’s, with only +their teeth for axes, have felled some o’ the biggest trees o’ the +forest. The industrious beaver can teach the red man no lesson o’ +patience. There were many hands, too, you must remember, working for +the general good and not for individual gain, as the whites do. + +“The red, too, had a way o’ running down the deer, in case he was +hunting alone and missed his mark. It was a sort o’ unwritten law with +’em that if the hunter missed his shot, he must run down the creatur’ +to save himself from disgrace. So, when the frightened deer bounded +away, he would give one o’ his unyarthly screeches and follow. But he +knew better than to keep running at first. A moose never stops running, +once he starts, until he either escapes or falls dead in his tracks. +But a deer, after running a little way and finding it is not pursued, +will stop to browse. The red knew this, and would creep upon his game, +and when near enough give another yell, which would send the animal on +another spurt. In this way the red would follow the deer for hours, and +worry it by these jerky pursuits. It would get dry then, and drink its +fill of the first pool or stream. That would load down its stomach so +it could no longer make its big jumps, while its runs would be shorter. +Each stop stiffened its joints. + +“The cunning red, no matter how parched his tongue was, would not allow +a drop o’ water down his throat. Dashing a handful into his face, as +he crossed some brook, he would keep repeating his manœuvres, until +at last the poor hunted brute would turn hopelessly at bay. The red +then makes short work o’ it. Without stopping for the flesh to cool, +he cuts a piece from behind the fore shoulder, and begins to eat it. +Neither does he allow himself, in his overheated condition, to stand +still a minute. Slinging as much o’ the carcass as he can well carry +o’er his shoulder, he starts on a trot to his home. He knows if he +stops he will soon be too stiff to move. It may be he has run a hundred +miles in this race. Such races generally average fifty miles, though it +may end near where it started, the bewildered deer going in nearly a +circle. The endurance o’ the red is wonderful. I have known one to run +continually for twenty-four hours, and kiver every hour from four to +five miles through a wilderness o’ swamp and upland. But here we are at +old Massabesic, which is an Indian name for Place o’ Much Water. It is +a goodish sized pool, and there is another off yender as large as this, +hitched on by a narrer rim o’ water, so the two look like a pair o’ +spectacles.” + + + + + CHAPTER XX. + + THE CRY FOR HELP. + + +While the boys stopped to admire the silvery sheet of water, hedged +with wildwood growing to the very edge, the Woodranger reached silently +into a dense thicket of bushes hanging out over the shore of the pond, +and pulled from its hiding-place a birch canoe, with its paddle. + +Norman and the Stark boys could not help expressing surprise at seeing +this done, but Rob Rogers said: + +“Don’t let Woodranger surprise you, Mac, by pulling a canoe out of a +thicket like that. I honestly believe he has one in every pond and +stream in New England. And the fun of it is he can always lay his hand +on one when he wants it.” + +“Nay, lad, it is one o’ man’s weak p’ints to be o’er confident. I +remember this summer o’ coming to a leetle strayed-away corner o’ +water that I generally skim in my birch rather than tramp around, but +I didn’t find the canoe. Mebbe some red took it; mebbe it had drifted +away. I do not purtend to say. I know it cost me twenty miles o’ +perambulating through a dense briar.” + +“How many canoes do you suppose you have, Woodranger, in hiding like +this?” asked the boy ranger. + +“I trust it is no indiscretion o’ mine to say that I have a goodish +number. I find ’em very convanient, too. Step in, lads, and we’ll cross +this bit o’ water in a jiffy.” + +To four such boys, who revelled in the life of the woods, this trip +was already proving delightful. With that easy movement, born of the +forester, the Woodranger pushed the light bark out from its shelter, +and, springing nimbly in with his passengers, sent it flying over the +sparkling water. The day was clear, and the refreshing breeze coming +over the lake brought a feeling of exhilaration to the five. + +“This is better than dragging through the brushwood, with the vines and +briars tugging at your jacket,” declared Billy Stark. “For my part, I +wish we could go this way all of the distance.” + +“Where would be your deer you have boasted of bagging?” asked Rob. + +“Oh, well, perhaps I should want to go ashore long enough to capture +that. But I didn’t know Massabesic was so large, Woodranger.” + +“As I said, it is a goodish sized pool. It was a favourite spot o’ the +reds, who had a village on the north shore, until the plague killed so +many o’ ’em there weren’t enough left to be sociable. That was just +afore the whites kem, and over yender,” pointing to the right, “is the +ruined cabin o’ the last o’ their tribe in this vicinity, an Indian +maiden. She married the first settler in these parts, who kem here +while her people were dying at short notice. He was a negro, who had +kem with John Smith on his v’yage to this country. He was an escaped +slave, and their union seemed to me pathetic, being, as they were, +the outcasts o’ two races. But how the water has taken on its winter +clothes within a few days. There is snow in the air.” + +“Water with winter clothes!” exclaimed Billy Stark, while the other +boys did not try to conceal their wonder at such a statement. “I never +heard of water having clothes.” + +“Neither did you ever o’ the bear wearing a jacket, and yet his suit +o’ warm fur is in every sense his clothes. So it might be said o’ +every creatur’ that runs or flies. I can’t say so positive o’ the +fish that swim in the water, but I have marked a difference in dress +o’ the streams and ponds in which they live. Take the babbling brook +in the summer and you will find it merrily dancing in its white and +silvery frock, just as if, like the human creatur’, it had thrown off +its gray garb o’ winter. But when cold weather comes you see that +same brook with a deep blue on. Then, too, in summer its song has a +gentle, babbling sound, as if it felt good-will toward all, but in the +cold season it rushes on with a harsh, gurgling noise, as if it were +fretting over the prospect ahead, for all the world like man, scolding +for what he knows not. It is the same with the pond. Last summer old +Massabesic had a sunny smile rippling all over her fair figure; but now +she is donning the dull, leaden hue o’ winter. How much more cheerless, +too, do the waves dash and break on her beaches. All things change with +the seasons, even to the coats o’ the bear and the beaver, the wolf and +the rabbit. But hark! do my old ears deceive me, or is that the cry o’ +human throat? Your ears are keener than mine.” + +“It is a cry for help from some one,” said Norman, and the others +nodded their heads, as they continued to listen. + +“It comes from the east shore,” said Rob. “Who can it be and what is +the trouble?” + +“We will soon know, lad, we will soon know,” and the Woodranger began +to send the canoe over the water at redoubled speed. + +“If I only had a paddle,” said Rob. + +“Nay, lad, let not that consarn thee. Whoever it be, he has lusty +lungs. Keep a sharp lookout, for were it not in peaceful times one +might be only called discreet if he looked on sich bawling as lacking +common sense.” + +The boys needed no urging to maintain a close watch ahead, and it +wasn’t long before the blue line of the distant shore loomed up into +a rugged breastwork of forest. As the forester continued to ply his +paddle with vigorous strokes, they watched with increasing earnestness +the scene ahead. To their wonder, the shouts of the person had stopped. + +“Look sharp, lads,” were the Woodranger’s words, while he kept at his +task with unabated power. + +“I see something dark in the top of that maple off to the left, which +may be a man,” said Rob, pointing in the direction he was looking. + +“So do I,” said Norman. “It is a man, who has climbed into the top, or +I am mistaken.” + +As the canoe bore them nearer the boys became certain of this fact, +though the person remained perfectly quiet. The tree into which he had +climbed was not as high as others standing close at hand, while it grew +so near the shore that its branches hung out over the water. + +“What does he mean by staying there?” asked Billy. “Hadn’t we better +shout to him, Woodranger?” + +“Not yet, lad, not yet. Watch him as close as you would a cat, and have +your weepons handy. He may be there for a bit o’ an amazement against +our peace o’ mind, thinking we are greenies. It is a man sure, and he +do lay amazing still, seeing he has clumb so high.” + +The Woodranger had himself taken a good view of the mysterious stranger +in the tree-top, before he resumed his paddling. + +As the canoe continued to approach the spot the man remained without +moving, though once Rob believed he was motioning to them. + +“He has seen us, that is certain. But what can his queer actions mean? +I can see his white face turned toward us.” + +“It is Zack Bitlock!” exclaimed Norman, recognising the strange person. +“He cannot mean us any harm.” + +By this time the canoe had got quite near, and with another vigorous +stroke the Woodranger sent it gliding within easy view of the man in +the tree-top, and then stopped to take a careful survey of him. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI. + + A PECULIAR PREDICAMENT. + + +“Sha’n’t I speak to him?” asked Billy Stark, as he watched the peculiar +action, or rather non-action, of Goodman Bitlock, who remained +perfectly motionless. + +The Woodranger silenced the young speaker with a motion of the hand, +while he said, in a low tone: + +“There be nothing without reason, and there be reason for that silence. +Do you not see under the maple that leetle varmint o’ a skunk? Can it +be possible the simpleton has been treed by a skunk? Maybe it is not +harder to believe than that a man could be drove into ambushment by a +porcupine. Sich I have known.” + +Now that the forester had called their attention in that direction, the +boys saw an animal of the unpopular family named by their companion. +It was sitting quietly on its haunches, looking up into the tree with +an air of triumph at having run its big game to earth, or rather into +air. But before either of the boys could express their surprise at the +situation, the Woodranger made another and more startling discovery. + +“Look in the pines on the right, lads. D’you see them dark balls curled +up in the crotch? They are what keeps our man so still. They be a +couple o’ wolverines, and, seeing they be tough leetle customers to +handle sometimes, it looks so we had a lively leetle amazement ahead. +Hi!” + +The single exclamation was called from the Woodranger by a sudden +commotion in both maple and pine. Zack Bitlock, either becoming too +tired of remaining in his cramped position longer without moving, or +else alarmed at some threatening movement of his enemies, shifted +himself slightly higher. + +He had barely done so before two short screams came from the pine, +and a pair of lissom forms shot out toward the frightened man, who +uttered a wild yell of terror, and pitched head first into the water. +The forester’s ever handy rifle was brought to his shoulder, and its +ringing report rang out as the twin creatures were midway in their +flight. The next moment Rob Rogers fired, but whether his bullet +hit its mark or not, or whether he had shot at the same animal the +Woodranger had, one of the wolverines suddenly plunged downward, while +the other reached the maple. + +It was the turn of Norman and the Stark boys now, and simultaneously +they fired at the snarling brute in the tree, which, with an angry +growl, dropped headlong into the pond. But the creatures seemed to die +hard. The first had struck almost on top of the struggling man, and +instantly attacked him, with snarls and growls of rage. + +Zack Bitlock shrieked for help, while he strove to beat off his +ferocious assailant. The second, with a willingness to succour its mate +really creditable, went to its assistance, and between the two the +situation of the half-drowned man was getting to be serious. + +Rob began to reload his weapon with all haste possible. Norman shifted +his gun, so as to club off the angry brutes, while Johnny Stark +proposed to carry “war into camp” by jumping into the water, that he +might mingle in the fight. + +With a few swift, silent movements of the paddle the Woodranger sent +the canoe alongside the struggling combatants, churning the water into +foam with their desperate endeavours. Drawing the long, keen knife he +always carried, the forester quickly buried its blade to the handle in +the nearest wolverine. But before he could reach the other it retreated +out of harm’s way. Then, as if determined on a last furious resort, _it +charged on the canoe_! + +The Woodranger thus found it necessary to turn his efforts toward +keeping the frail craft right side up. Johnny Stark hit the wolverine +a tremendous blow over the head, just as its claws grasped the rim of +the canoe, and Norman next dealt it such a whack that it fell back into +the water. As if possessed of a charmed life, it still offered battle, +but it finally retreated, swimming rapidly toward a little headland +projecting into the pond a dozen yards below. + +“It’s going to get away!” cried Johnny, and he would have followed it +into the water had not the hand of the Woodranger held him back. + +“Let the varmint go, lad! You can do no good, and you may get a scratch +you’ll remember. Let the pesky leetle varmint go.” + +But the plucky wolverine was not destined to escape. As it crawled upon +the rocky shore, Rob Rogers had his rifle to his shoulder, and, with a +good aim, he sent a bullet into its brain. Springing high into the air, +with an angry snarl, the doomed creature fell upon the rocks. + +“Well done, Robby!” said the Woodranger. “That fixes him. On the +whole I’m glad the creatur’ weren’t allowed to get away. O’ all the +four-footed denizens o’ the wilderness I set the wolverine down as the +meanest. It’s a sort o’ cross between the bear and the weasel, having +all the vices and cunning o’ both, with their good qualities left out, +and the temper o’ the wolf added. It shows its ugliness in its looks, +its only claim to beauty being its bushy tail, which it seems to have +got from the wolf. Its savageness is only equalled by its cunning. It +is not as clumsy as a bear, and it can climb trees almost as well as a +wildcat. It is nothing unusual for one to lie on some perch overhead, +and wait for something to come along for it to pounce on to and devour. +It don’t hesitate to take man for its victim, and I tell you, with its +long, sharp claws and teeth, it’s no frolic to have it clinging to your +back, as I have found more’n once. But Goodman Bitlock has crawled out +o’ the water, and we must see what we can do for him.” + +As the water was not over four feet deep where he had fallen into the +pond, Zack Bitlock had easily reached the shore, the moment he had +managed to get clear from the wolverines. The water was dripping from +his clothes, and as he stood there, trembling from fright and the +chilling effects of his impromptu bath, he presented a most ludicrous +figure. + +“Is thet ye, Ranger?” he asked between his chattering teeth, as the +forester brought the canoe close to the shore. “I’m mighty glad to see +ye.” + +“What sort o’ an amazement was you up to?” asked the other. “Looked so +you were handsomely treed.” + +“Wuss’n thet, Ranger! I was clean, teetotally cornered. I was jes’ +beginning to wonder how I was goin’ to git out, when ye hove in sight.” + +“How did it happen?” + +“It didn’t happen, Ranger; it jes’ did. Ye see I was comin’ down +through th’ woods a-harkin’ fer a deer, when all ter-wunst one o’ th’ +gol-dangest, meanest lookin’ skunks you ever seed slid under my feet! +Mebbe I didn’t holler, knowin’ whut th’ pesky creetur’s air liable to +do. When I’d got over my holler I ups ol’ Ginger――they say guns do +better ef ye name ’em, so I chucked on mine th’ bes’ I could think of, +an’ th’ most ’propriate. Wull, I let ol’ Ginger flop. Thet is I gin +him a chaince, but he didn’t flip a yip! He didn’t so much as wink. +Seein’ then th’ skunk wus purty lively, I shinned the nearest tree in +double-quick time. Then I s’posed the tarnal warmint would git erway, +but it sort o’ set up guard duty like right under thet tree, an’ th’ +Lord only knowed when it’d git off. So I begun to holler like blazes. +When I had fetched erbout my third whoop, I heerd a move in thet pine, +an’ I looked thet way, an’ saw thet pair o’ wolverines, which I s’pose +had been thar all th’ time waitin’ fer me. I see thet my hollerin’ wuz +goin’ to make ’em take me at short notice, so I shet my mouth an’ kept +as still as I could fer th’ tree shakin’. But, Lord Harry! I don’t know +how I sh’u’d kem out ef ye hadn’t kem erlong.” + +“Where’s your gun, Bitlock?” + +“Where I drapped yit when I clumb the tree. Didn’t expect me to climb +a tree with a gun in my fist, did ye?” + +“Well, I see the leetle varmint that driv you to roost has left in a +hurry, so get your weapon and come with us, if you want to.” + +“I sh’u’d be most s’prisin’ happy to do so, Ranger, but ye see ’twon’t +do fer me to git inter thet canoo in my wet clothes. I sh’u’d git my +sartin death o’ cold. No, Ranger, I must keep on my feet till I git th’ +circulation to movin’. Much obleeged, though.” + +“Just as you say, Bitlock. We expect to camp down by the Devil’s Den +to-night, and you can follow the shore to the place if you want to.” + +“Mebbe I will; I’ll see. I’m jes’ on aidge to bark a deer.” + +Seeing they could not help him any further, the Woodranger turned the +canoe again toward the north and sent it flying over the pond, leaving +Bitlock still standing on the shore wringing the water from his clothes. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII. + + THE GUN-SHOT. + + +Little was said by the occupants of the canoe, while the Woodranger +continued to use the paddle with his swift, silent strokes, until a +cove on the northeast shore of Massabesic loomed plainly into view. The +pines in that quarter grew quite to the water’s edge, their long arms +at places falling over into the pond. + +“Take the paddle awhile, Rob,” said the forester, “and I will drop +a line for our supper, seeing we have taken no game this afternoon. +To-morrow we surely shall not have to depend on sich supplies. Not +that I object to a good meal o’ Massabesic perch or pike. At the mouth +of some of its streams I have pulled in as fine a salmon trout as +you’d care for. Ha! there’s enough for any two o’ you hungry boys,” he +declared, as he hauled in a fine specimen of the finny tribe. “Two more +sich as he, and we’ll run in ashore.” + +Five minutes later Rob was sending the canoe into a little bay, hidden +from view until the beholder was close upon it by a dense border of +bushes encircling the horseshoe-shaped shore. To the surprise of the +boys, they saw a well-worn path leading back into the growth from the +apex of the circular retreat. + +“Is it possible you have been here so many times, Woodranger, as to +have made a beaten path into the woods?” + +“Possible, my lad, but not probable. ’Tis another trail o’ the reds. +It leads back to another camping-place o’ the dusky tribe. I generally +seek this place, as just above here it is extremely dry and sheltered +for a camping spot. It is elevated enough to command a goodish survey +o’ the water.” + +By this time the canoe had touched on the sandy beach. The boys jumped +out, and began at once to remove their outfits. When the forester had +concealed his frail bark to his satisfaction under some overhanging +bushes, he led the way back into the depths of the forest. + +After following the path for a short distance, the little party found +itself under the low-spreading arms of a giant pine, which stood on the +backbone of a slight ridge of land. A background of high rocks on the +north and west formed a protection from the cold winds, while the south +was open to receive the sun, making an ideal camping-place. + +“There is a cave just back here called the Devil’s Den,” said Rob, who +alone of the boys had been there before. “We’ll visit it by and by. But +first I imagine Woodranger will want us to bring together some wood for +a fire.” + +“Sartin, lad, sartin; and while you be about that I’ll set things in +order here. If you go near the cave I would not advise you to go in, as +it is damp and cold within at this season.” + +The four boys at once went in quest of the wood, and they were so +successful that in a few minutes they had brought a good-sized pile of +dried branches and fallen saplings, so that the Woodranger was enabled +soon to have a cheerful fire blazing. Seeing that the latter was busy +about the forthcoming meal, and that they were not needed, the boys +started up the hillside under the lead of Rob, to visit the cave with +the ominous name of Devil’s Den. + +They soon found themselves at the foot of an immense cliff, which was +rent and seamed in several places. The largest of these fissures was +nearly in the middle of the rocky wall, and the young explorers found +that it led an unknown depth into the earth. Billy and Johnny started +to penetrate its recess, but it was so dark and damp that, after going +a short distance, they were glad to turn back. + +“If I had a torch,” said the resolute Johnny, “I’d go to the end.” + +“You’d have a smart tramp to get back for supper, if you went to the +end,” said Rob. “There is an account which says a dog once ran in here +after a fox, and though the dog was never known to come out, he was +heard barking underground two miles away from here!” + +“Fudge, Rob! you know that is a story,” declared Billy. + +“Ask Woodranger if it isn’t so――I mean the story.” + +“Look here, boys!” called out Johnny, who had left the others to +wander into the forest; “here are what look like two graves under this +chestnut. Can anybody have been buried here?” + +“Injuns!” declared Billy. + +At that moment the report of a gun rang out clearly in the distance, +quickly succeeded by a human cry. + +“Who can that be?” asked Johnny. + +“Zack Bitlock, I think,” replied Norman. “I wonder what trouble he has +got into now.” + +Putting all thoughts of the grave mounds from their minds, the four +boys returned to the Woodranger to consult with him in regard to this +new alarm. The forester was busily engaged in tending the fish, which +he had impaled upon spits improvised from hazel sticks, and placed over +the fire. Not until he had seen the delicious morsels browned to a +nicety, and removed them from the fire, did he offer to reply to the +anxious inquiries of his young companions. + +“Yes, I heerd the gun-shot, and likewise I heerd a goodish part o’ the +holler, as if the feller was a loon. Likewise I hear him coming through +the breshwood near at hand.” + +As the Woodranger finished speaking, they, too, heard a heavy, +lumbering step in the woods just below them, and as they listened to +the sounds the ungainly figure of Zack Bitlock burst into sight. He had +evidently seen the fire some time before, for he was headed directly +toward it. He had a wild, scared look on his homely face, which made +him look more unprepossessing than ever. + +“Lord Harry!” he gasped, as he staggered into the little arena holding +our group of hunters, “I never was so scared in my born life. That air +weepon o’ mine has gone stark, starin’ mad! A leetle spell ago I axed +it to speak its piece, an’ it never yipped. Jes’ now, as I was walkin’ +erlong, it begun to hiss and sputter, and then flew off like a wildcat! +I hove it aside an’ run fer life.” + +Bitlock was greatly excited, and he could not stand still while he told +his story. Instead of replying to him, the Woodranger said: + +“Draw round, lads, and help yourselves to the fish. Br’iled fish to be +good must be eaten warm from the coals. Then, too, as soon as you have +satisfied your appetites, you had better lop down some of them boughs, +if you want any protection for the night. As for myself, I’m fain to +allow I do not care for sich contraptions. But seeing you are less used +to outdoor life, and the nights be a bit coolish at this season, I +want to know that you are comfortable. Come up, Zack, and eat a bit o’ +br’iled fish. It will warm you ’mazingly.” + +“Gol dang it, Ranger! I’m going home. That is, if I can get Rob to take +me over th’ pond.” + +“’Twon’t do, Zack. Ketch your death o’ cold in that soaked skin. Stop +till morning, sure. Eat and get dry now.” + +Goodman Bitlock was glad enough to obey, and a minute later he was +eating voraciously, and after supper he hovered over the fire, so as to +dry his wet clothes. Under the direction of the forester the boys soon +constructed a comfortable bough house. By the time this was finished it +was quite dark, and the stars were beginning to peep out in the sky. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII. + + THE FOREST TRAGEDY. + + +When at last the party had got comfortably settled around the cheerful +camp-fire, Rob asked: + +“Are those mounds up near the Devil’s Den the graves of white people, +Woodranger?” + +“One is and one isn’t, lad, though I reckon the good angel has writ out +their records alike. Them graves were made for an Indian maid and her +white lover. It was one o’ them ’fairs with which these parts be all +writ over.” + +“So there is a story, Woodranger,” said the four boys, in a chorus. +“You must tell it to us.” + +“Mebbe it will while away a few minutes, and if you’ll pile a leetle +more bresh on the fire, I’ll tell you the sad story o’ Princess +Avawanda. + +“Among the first white settlers in this vicinity was a Frenchman by the +name o’ Le Roche. He built him a cabin six or eight miles, as the crow +flies, to the east o’ this place. His wife came with him, and a son +about one and twenty. + +“This youngster, whose name I disremember, was fond o’ the chase, +which shows to me that he was above dissembling. I opine he was a +likely lad. During one o’ his perambulations o’ the woods he run ’pon +a deer. It was just above here, and, heedless o’ any harm from it, he +shot the varmint. Scurcely had it toppled over before half a dozen reds +leaped out o’ their ambushment and caught him as fast as a fish in a +net. He was taken to their camp on a goodish sized stream which flows +into the pond. + +“The youngster, Le Roche, was knowing to leetle o’ Indian warfare, +but he supposed the reds weren’t on the warpath at that time. So they +weren’t, but this was their fishing and hunting grounds, and, ’cording +to their idee, the deer hereabouts belonged to ’em. But the older +warriors seemed to persuade the younger into the belief that it was +best to let the young man off, on the expectation that he would do +better. Not understanding a word o’ that which was said to him, the +youngster was ’lowed to depart in peace, though he was not given back +his gun. + +“Joyed to get off so easy, he didn’t mind his loss, but when he come +along hereabouts, he was overtaken by the chief’s daughter, Avawanda, +who had brought his gun. She told in that tongue which he did not +understand that he must leave that corner at once. She told him some o’ +the warriors were ill-pleased with ’lowing him his liberty. More by her +gestures than her words, she made him realise the risk she had run in +coming to him, and the danger o’ his situation. She had seen him during +the council o’ her race, and in the manner o’ a woman’s way her heart +had gone out to him. I don’t say she told him as much as this, though +it was an Indian’s way. + +“The youngster went boldly on his way, but he hadn’t gone twenty yards +afore some arrows whistled around his head, and two reds leaped in +front o’ him flourishing their tomahawks and howling like wolves. + +“Though taken unawares, the youngster killed the foremost, and engaged +in a hand-to-hand grapple with the other. It must have been a tough +battle, for at last, when the Indian girl, attracted by the cries and +struggles, reached the spot, both lay as if dead. + +“In the short time she had known the young Frenchman he had awakened a +strong passion in her breast for him, and she bent tenderly over him to +see if there was any sign o’ life left. After a hasty examination, she +was joyed to find that he lived. But it would be impossible for him to +reach home. Not daring to leave him there, she carried his well-nigh +lifeless body to the cave. Laying it down on a bed o’ leaves, she +started for his home, to tell his father what she had done. + +“It was a bolder amazement than she knew in going to the youngster’s +father with the story of his adventure, but she was honest and +fearless, as the innocent ever are. When Le Roche heard o’ the fate +o’ his boy, at first he could ne’er believe it. But Avawanda seemed +honest, though he swore she should die if she had deceived him. Poor +child! As if she had not risked enough in going there to him. Should +her father l’arn o’ it, he would put her to death at once. But Le Roche +got two or three friends to go with him, and started for this place, +under the lead o’ the girl. + +“’Pon getting here, the wounded youngster was not to be found. Sartin, +then, that Avawanda had led him into a trap, Le Roche swore he would +kill her. She fled for her life, and he and his companions follered her. + +“Their anger making them resky, the leetle party crept down to the +Indian village. There they see the boy a captive, and undergoing a +course o’ torture. It seemed the reds had found him at the cave while +Avawanda was gone, and, knowing he’d killed two o’ their number, set +about avenging their deaths. Maddened by the sight, Le Roche called +upon his friends to attack ’em with him. + +“A bloody fight must have followed, though none o’ the whites were +killed. But do his best, Le Roche did not manage to bear off his son, +who somehow was lost in the scramble. At last, having killed three o’ +the reds, and his companions being so hard hit they could do no more +fighting, the Frenchman was fain to get away. + +“He was coming up the path just below here, when he was surprised to +see the Indian girl coming toward the cave, with his boy’s body in her +arms. Without stopping to think that she might have resked her life to +save his son, and was then trying to get him away from his enemies, +though they were her kin, Le Roche could think only o’ treachery. +Believing she was trying to hide his body, he shot her dead with her +loved one in her arms. + +“Upon reaching the side o’ his boy, he found that the same bullet o’ +his which had taken Avawanda’s life had given him his death-wound! The +youngster lived long enough to tell his father that she had saved him +from the torture, and was bearing him to that place until she could +find some way to get him home. + +“‘She died for me, father! and the same bullet has cost me my life, for +otherwise I might have got well. I have one favour to ask. Bury us here +side by side.’ + +“The grief-stricken father could promise nothing less, and so you see +their graves here on this little hill, within sight of the beautiful +sheet o’ water Avawanda loved so well. The granite walls o’ the +hillside, which were silent witnesses o’ that day’s awful work, guard +through the long years their lonely rest. But don’t let the sad story +rob you o’ your evening’s enj’yment. How beautiful old Massabesic looks +under the starry eyes o’ the night. So your gun is getting to be +onsartain, Zack. Is as glum as a beetle when you want it to talk, and +pops off in the most onreasonable way when it should hold its tongue, +eh?” + +By this time Bitlock had got his clothes pretty well dried, and he +had also got into a more amiable frame of mind, so it was a free and +cheerful group gathered there under the pines amid the solitude of the +forest. For a long time the six talked about the topics interesting +them most, the Woodranger filling in the waste places of conversation +with many incidents of his checkered life, until at last he signified +that it was time to seek rest. + +Scraping a few leaves together, and selecting a moss-covered stone +for a pillow, he stretched his stalwart figure at full length on his +primitive couch. In a brief time he sank into a child-like slumber, a +smile, now and then, hovering over his bronzed and bearded countenance, +as if some sweet vision of happy days gone by had flitted through his +dreams. Bitlock was soon snoring loudly close by the fire. Norman and +the other boys gladly lay down on their simple beds of leaves and +boughs, covered with their skin robes, and were soon enjoying their +well-earned rest. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV. + + BEAR’S CLAWS――THE TURKEY TRAIN. + + +When the boys awoke in the morning they found the Woodranger already +astir. In fact, he had not only brought the wood and re-kindled the +fire, but he had some fine fish broiling and had completed the other +preparations for breakfast. + +“Why didn’t you speak to us,” said Norman, “and we would have helped +you?” + +“Nay, lad, that would have been childish in me. You will find afore +night that you have needed every bit o’ rest you have got. You have a +goodish walk afore you to-day.” + +“I think you said we should reach Pawtuckaway Mountain to-day?” + +“I trust we shall be ’lowed to reach there by sundown, though we shall +have no water-courses to help us out. But you have none too much time +in which to wash for breakfast. This fish to be at its best needs to be +eaten smoking hot. That is the great secret o’ the flavour o’ all food. +Nothing is so good that has been ’lowed to lose the flavour o’ its +cooking.” + +During the meal, at Bitlock’s request, the Woodranger concluded to let +Norman and Rob take him across the pond in the canoe, in order that +he might return home. Before they started, Johnny Stark went in quest +of the firearm, which the frightened man had thrown away the previous +night. + +The journey across the pond and back proving uneventful, upon the +return of Norman and Rob the Woodranger carefully concealed his canoe, +so they might have it on their way back, after which they “broke camp” +at the Devil’s Den. + +Their course now lay through a wilderness of vegetation. At first they +advanced quite rapidly through the pine forest, but upon reaching the +expanses of smaller hard woods, such as gray birches, hazels, dogwoods, +alders, sumachs, ironwoods, water-bushes, grapes, apple shrubs, and +running hemlocks, which grew almost everywhere in the swamp and along +the margins of the streams, they often found it difficult to get along. +Here the Woodranger showed the advantage of his training by the greater +ease and speed with which he picked his way. + +“It comes very much o’ practice,” he said, as Billy Stark for the +twentieth time was sent flying headlong to the ground by getting caught +in a network of vines. “If you had brought your foot around with a +swinging stride, and not tried to step so boldly over it, lad, you +ne’er would have got caught as you did. But, alack a man, a lad like +you ne’er minds a tumble like that. I do believe you enj’y it. It does +you good. Look hyur, lads!” + +The Woodranger’s speech had taken a sudden turn, and ended with an +earnestness which caused the boys to hasten to his side with what +speed they could. He had stopped near the bank of a small stream, and, +as they joined him, pointed to some freshly made tracks in the soft +earth near the water’s edge. The imprint was as wide as that made by +the forester’s moccasin, though shorter, so as to give it a more round +shape. Rob Rogers was the first to recognise it, and he exclaimed, with +some excitement: + +“A bear’s track, Woodranger!” + +“B’ar sign sure, lad. And the creatur’ has been here inside an hour. +See how it has trod its way to its drinking-place.” + +The boys had already seen a beaten path leading to the place, and at +once they said: + +“Shall we follow him up, Woodranger?” + +The forester shook his head. + +“We have no use for him just now. Mebbe when we come back we’ll try a +hand with him. But you remember it is buck or moose that we are the +most detarmined to find. Until we have satisfied our peace o’ mind in +that direction other game must wait.” + +Half an hour’s advance was then made in comparative silence, when again +the Woodranger stopped, and, with a smile on his lips, pointed to the +ground, saying: + +“Can you read that sign, Robby?” + +The boy ranger and his young companions quickly reached the spot, to +see a smaller imprint than that made by the bear, but which bore some +resemblance to it. + +“Wildcat!” was Rob’s prompt reply. + +“How do you know but it’s a cub’s track?” asked the forester. + +“In the bear’s tracks there were traces of the claws, but here there +are none to be seen. Besides, the track is not so round.” + +“Good for you, lad. It is a wildcat, and a big one, jedging by its +foot. How long since it was here?” + +“Less than an hour. The earth is scarcely dry here where the sun does +not fall.” + +“Good jedgment, lad. But I reckon we have as leetle use for cat as we +have for b’ar at this time. We’ll let the varmint go his way, while we +go ours. In the hollow o’er that ridge, if I mistake not, we shall +find something for our dinner. Hark! hear that?” + +The loud, piercing scream of a hawk had broken the silence of the +forest, and looking up through a rift in the forest canopy they +discovered the lone bird circling in the air, as it kept up its cries +of alarm. + +“Let me get a shot at it!” cried Billy, excitedly. + +“A wanton waste o’ powder, lad,” said the Woodranger. “Instead o’ +firing away your ammunition, let’s watch the bird a bit. I opine it is +pretty well frightened.” + +“What can have frightened it?” + +“A man and a white one at that. Just wait a minute and see if I’m not +right.” + +“How can you know it is a white man?” + +“Because a red is too often seen to raise all that rumpus for, and――ha! +just as I expected. And the fool has burned his powder for nothing.” + +The report of a gun had been heard in the midst of the forester’s +speech, immediately following which, with a louder scream, the hawk +flew to a greater height. + +“Who can it be?” asked Norman. + +“Not one you would be hankering to meet, if my ol’ ears don’t deceive +me,” replied the Woodranger, resuming his advance. + +“You don’t mean Gunwad?” + +“I do. None but sich a varmint would be wasting his ammunition on a +hawk. No truer saying than ‘birds o’ feather flock together’ was e’er +spoken; and it is equally true that birds o’ feather war on each other.” + +“But how could you tell this was Gunwad? You must have had another +reason for being so sure.” + +“Exactly, lad. I knowed it was the deer reeve by the peculiar sound o’ +his gun. If you want the proof o’ sight we’ll perambulate that way.” + +“No――no! But can you tell any one by the report of his gun?” + +“Ginerally, lad, after a fair trial. I find it is a handy knack.” + +After this, little was said for half an hour. Norman was thinking of +the near presence of Gunwad, and was wondering if his having come into +that region meant anything to him. In one respect he was relieved to +know the unprincipled deer reeve was near; he could not be troubling +those at home. This fear had made him loath to leave them. In the midst +of his speculations he found that the Woodranger had again stopped, +and the boys had imitated his example. As the little group waited in +silence, the younger members of the party wondering what this sudden +halt signified, a tremulous, guttural cry, repeated three times in +rapid succession, reached their ears. + +“There’s our dinner,” said the forester, in a low tone, “and I will +warrant you he is a fat old gobbler. Mind you how husky his voice is. +To save running after him I will ask him to come and deliver himself +up.” + +When the Woodranger had finished speaking, he placed his left hand to +his lips, and half closing it, he gave expression to a cry so like that +of the wild turkey that even Rob Rogers looked surprised. Giving this +sound three times in quick succession, he stopped and listened with his +companions. + +They didn’t have to wait long before the answer was sounded, louder +and clearer than the notes before. Again the Woodranger gave forth +his challenge, and again he received his reply. When these calls and +replies had been made alternately half a dozen times, it was evident +the turkey was near at hand. Each time the answering cry grew nearer +and clearer, until the forester, parting the shrubbery with one hand, +and pointing into the forest ahead with the other, said, in a whisper: + +“See the old fellow and his brood! I s’pose you are anxious to try your +hands, lads, and you’ll have no fairer chance. Take your pick, and fire +when I give the word.” + +It was a beautiful sight that greeted the eyes of the boys, as their +companion ceased speaking, and one that must have stirred the heart of +any sportsman. Marching through the forest, with head held high, with +the air of one leading a victorious legion, strutted the largest turkey +gobbler any of them had ever seen. Close behind him came the hen, and +at her heels, following in single file, like a war-party of red men +going to battle, were the family brood of ten, the young nearly as +large as the parent turkeys. + +Notwithstanding his great weight, the leader stepped noiselessly over +the leaf-strewn pathway, while he was continually looking upward or +sidewise, on the alert for the least suspicion of danger. He stopped +abruptly in full view, his head bent slightly over and his small, clear +eye looking sharply ahead. So suddenly had this been done, as if he had +in some unknown manner been warned of peril, that one foot remained +raised. In a moment every member of the turkey train was motionless. + +The old chief of the feathered legion seemed about to give expression +to another cry, and the Woodranger raised his hand as a signal for the +boys to fire. Norman had chosen a fine bronze gobbler of good size, +and his young companions had each selected a victim, but before they +had time to aim and fire, a dark, lissom form was seen to spring from +behind a huge boulder upon the leader of the troop. The hen gave a +quick, sharp cry of alarm, and in the twinkling of an eye disappeared +with her brood. + + + + + CHAPTER XXV. + + THE PLACE OF THE BIG BUCK. + + +An exclamation of disgust left the Woodranger’s lips, and at the same +moment his long rifle leaped to his shoulder. No sooner had his eye +ran along its barrel than the ringing report of the firearm awoke the +solitude of the forest. So swiftly had one act followed another, that +the triumphant cry of the nimble assailant ended in a howl of pain, +while it made a second involuntary leap into the air in the struggles +of death. It fell about midway between the little group of spectators +and the now lifeless turkey. + +“Rob me o’ my dinner in that way, will ye, ye sneaking thief! I reckon +it will be the last turkey you’ll ever try to carry off afore my eyes.” + +With these words, showing more excitement than was his wont, the +Woodranger began to leisurely reload his weapon. + +“What is it?” asked Johnny, without stopping to look at the creature; +“and where did the turkeys go to so quick?” + +“It’s a cat, lad, and a monster. It thought to cheat us o’ our dinner, +but I reckon Ol’ Danger gin it a dinner it won’t digest. Let’s take a +peep at the creatur’.” + +As the Woodranger had said, the wildcat, for such it was, was a big +one, and as it lay there, though harmless enough then, the boys could +not help shuddering. They found the turkey dead, too, though its slayer +had not mutilated its body. + +“It’ll make us a good dinner,” declared the Woodranger, “and half a +mile yon is a fit spot for us to make our nooning. First I’m going to +skin the cat. While I’m doing it, you might pluck the gobbler.” + +The spot selected by the Woodranger for a stopping-place was in one +of the most beautiful valleys they had ever seen. Through the centre +a good-sized brook ran merrily on its way, while a pine-clad hill on +the north completely sheltered them from the cold wind, and the sun +shone down upon the spot with a genial warmth. The boys at once set +about gathering some dried wood with which to build a fire. During one +of these searching trips, Norman ran upon an apple-tree standing in a +sheltered nook, which was still laden with fruit. These apples were +uncommonly large and fair for wild fruit, and so well had the tree +been protected from the frosts that they still retained their flavour. +Upon tasting one of them and finding it so good, Norman called to the +others to join him. + +Such a feast of fruit followed as none of them had ever enjoyed, while +the Woodranger was nothing loath to eat his share. In the joy of this +find, the turkey feast was put in the background, and baked apples +became an important part of that festive meal. + +“I wonder if the Injuns ever eat any apples?” said Billy, regardless of +his grammar. + +“Weel, lad, do not flatter yourself that they have never been to this +very tree. I have heerd o’ there being sich a tree somewhere in these +parts, but I ne’er had the good fortune to stumble upon it. Apples and +nuts made a goodish part o’ the living o’ the reds during the autumn. +I must say these are the best apples I ever tasted. Neither does this +turkey require much effort to swallow. It was a plump creature.” + +“Do wildcats often attack turkeys in that way?” asked Billy, as +they finally moved back from their dinner, to seek comfortable +resting-places for half an hour before resuming their wanderings. + +“That is the cat’s favourite way,” replied the Woodranger, as he made +himself comfortable at the foot of an ash which threw out its gnarled +roots in such a way as to afford arms upon which to rest. “In fact, +it is their only successful way. The turkey is a wary bird, and the +wildcat is its worst enemy. Still, the four-footed creatur’ stands +but leetle chance o’ ketching even a young turkey, so cautious is it +by instinct, and so fleet o’ foot. You have seen how it can get out o’ +the way o’ danger, to-day. Afore you could wink an eye, every one was +out o’ sight, and a goodish hunt you would have had to find one on ’em. +The cat knows that its only chance o’ ketching a turkey is by springing +from a tree, so it resorts to a trick. Ah! the cat is as full o’ quirks +and quibbles as a porkypine is o’ quills. + +“Getting its evil eye on a brood o’ turkeys, instead o’ trying to keep +them from knowing it is round, it takes particular pains to be seen. +It steals up behind ’em, until it is seen, when it steals away with +well-feigned sheepishness. Then it reappears, and, after having got +the attention o’ the turkeys, skulks out o’ sight ag’in. This it keeps +doing until it has got the direction the turkeys are going fixed in its +cunning head. After that, it steals away by a roundabout course and +conceals itself in the path of the turkeys, where it waits till they +come along. Thinking their enemy is behind them, the turkeys are not +so watchful in front, and so they fall into the trap. You have seen +the result o’ the cat’s manœuvring to-day. It is not often at this +season one sees such a brood o’ turkeys still together, but these were, +doubtless, on their way to the sea-coast, where they like to spend +their winters, to return in the spring.” + +After a short rest, the party again were on the move, and, having +now fairly entered the game-lands, were wide-awake for sport and +adventure. The incidents of that afternoon were rapid and exciting +enough to satisfy their most prodigal desires, but it would be scarcely +interesting to detail them all. Norman and Rob each shot a deer, while +of smaller game they got more than they could well care for. The deer +they dressed, and the Woodranger spitted the meat upon tall, slender +saplings, from whence it could be taken home whenever they could do so, +while in the meantime it was safe from the clutches of prowling beasts. + +Finally, as the sunlight was fading from the corrugated crest of Mount +Pawtuckaway, toward which they had been going all day, the Woodranger +halted at the foot of a high, moss-covered cliff, near the base of the +mountain, saying, as he cast his keen eyes about him: + +“I ne’er think we shall find a likelier place to pitch our camp. It is +well protected from the north and west; there be plenty o’ pines to get +your boughs for your bed; and here be a goodish fountain o’ the purest +water in the world. I see no need to go farther, and I jedge you lads +are tired enough to be glad to hear the news.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI. + + AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE. + + +Mount Pawtuckaway is the highest of three mountain peaks. Rearing its +serried heights nearly a thousand feet above sea level, this rocky +range is about as rugged a place as can be found in New England. At +that time it was covered, wherever there was earth enough upon the +rocks to support a shrub of any kind, by a forest of stunted pines, +hemlocks, spruces, and cedars. But at frequent intervals the naked +head of some granite cliff raised its gray crown into plain sight. +Surrounding the heights at their base were forests of pines, divided at +certain angles and corners by patches of white beeches, black maples, +or walnuts. In the distance a silvery disc, glimmering above the +tree-tops, marked the shores of a sheet of water. + +The boys were tired, but they took hold with a hearty good-will to +assist the Woodranger in preparing the evening meal, for they were +hungry as well as weary. Generous portions of the venison had been +reserved, and as soon as a fire had been kindled the forester was +roasting goodly slices to an appetising brown. + +At that season of the year evening comes on quickly after sunset, and +as the five finished their camp meal, the last rays of daylight had +faded from the mountain crags. + +“You said, Woodranger,” ventured Rob, during a lull in the conversation, +“that there was a story connected with the naming of this mountain +Pawtuckaway. We should like to hear it.” + +“There _is_ an Indian legend, lad, which pretends to explain why it is +called by the name you give, which means the place o’ the big buck. I +don’t mind telling the tale, though mebbe it be but a bit o’ fancy work +cleverly wrought by the red man’s cunning. The reds _did_ have a knack +o’ weaving pretty consaits together, the better than the white man, +perhaps, because he lived nearer to natur’. + +“’Cording to the traditions o’ the red man, this locality has always +been a favourite stamping-ground for the brown deer. Among the many +which lived hereabouts was a buck, bigger, fleeter o’ foot, and more +cunning than any o’ his kind. So wide did his fame become that hunters +came from afar to trail him down. But he had the knack o’ outwitting +his pursuers, none of whom were able to track him arter he had reached +the side o’ this mountain. So the simple red man kem to believe this +buck possessed a charmed life. + +“’Mong the others that come and hunted in vain the cunning creatur’ +was the Pennacook brave, Kinkinnasett, the warrior o’ the flying foot. +He vowed by the stars that he’d run down the big buck or ne’er follow +the trail ag’in. There was a girl mixed up in the ’fair, too, for +Kinkinnasett loved an Indian maid, who was also beloved by another. But +with sich coyness had she shown her favours that both warriors were +hopeful. At last, to settle a matter that was beginning to stir bad +blood, the maid said she would marry the one who would bring her the +antlers o’ this buck. Kinkinnasett and his rival at once set forth on a +hunt which later became a legend among the red men, the bold and fiery +relating it while the more timid held their breath. It was told to me +by an old chief in a low tone, while he kept the camp-fire burning its +brightest, for one and all believed that the foolish braves had angered +the Great Spirit by their action. + +“Kinkinnasett, so the story runs, was the one to start the big buck +from its favourite haunt just below here. It was then about midday, and +he at once gave chase. It was such a chase as Kinkinnasett had ne’er +known, as no living red man had e’er taken. He had failed three times, +with fair range, to bring down the buck with his far-flying arrows, +and now he tried all the artifices known to him to entrap the wary +creatur’. When he had given it chase for awhile, he paused to see if +the hunted buck would stop to look back. + +“Unlike the brown deer, many o’ which he had run down ’twixt sun and +sun, the star-eyed buck did not stop,――did not look back! With his +head thrown back on his shoulders, and his broad antlers cutting a +path through the forest wherever he went, the very mountain resounding +with his terrible tread, he bounded on and on, Kinkinnasett following +as best he could. Once completely around the mountain did he pursue +the buck, and, though he boasted o’ the flying foot, he ne’er got any +nearer the fugitive. + +“From a high perch the rival Pennacook, Sagawa, the Fox, looked down +on the failure o’ his brother brave, and he resolved, notwithstanding +that he, by doing it, broke the true code o’ hunters, to bring down the +buck with the charmed life, or prove that it could not be done. Unknown +to any one, he had that morning dipped his arrow in the oil o’ the +witch-hazel, and under sich incantations as to ensure it the power to +pierce the spell that might be thrown o’er a common shaft. + +“Seeing the buck finally coming near him, he poised his stout bow that +was fitted with the arrow of cur’us power. The flying creatur’ was just +below him, when he sent the winged shaft on its deadly mission. Then +his joy knew no bounds, as he saw the star-eyed buck o’ the charmed +life actually fall on his knees! + +“Sure now o’ his victim, if he could reach it before Kinkinnasett +should come along, he leaned out over the rock, holding on by a shrub, +so as to swing himself downward. Under his weight the bush parted from +its frail support, and he was sent headlong toward the rocks below, to +what seemed certain death. So thought Kinkinnasett, who had got near +enough to see the accident to his rival. To his surprise, the warrior +struck on the back of the crippled buck. Then, instead o’ throwing off +his burden, the wounded animal sprang upon its feet and bounded away, +with Sagawa clinging to it! + +“Not one whit slower did the buck flee, so Kinkinnasett was still +obliged to do his utmost to keep in sight o’ the wildest flight he had +e’er seen. + +“After going half-way around the mountain ag’in, and seeing that there +was a chance to cut off the fleeing buck, Kinkinnasett climbed a spur +o’ rock, and let himself down right in the pathway o’ the creatur’. +It was a critical p’int, where a gulf o’ a hundred feet opened at his +feet, and, on the other hand, a sheer wall o’ granite reached upward +from a rocky shelf not more’n a gun-rod wide. Sure o’ his game now, +Kinkinnasett raised his bow for his last shot. Then the heels o’ the +buck rattled around his head, and he was flung back upon the narrow +shelf o’ rock, while the desperate animal, with Sagawa still on its +back, leaped o’er the brink into the depths below! A terrific noise +followed, and, with the sound of rushing water ringing in his ears, +Kinkinnasett was left in darkness. + +“A party o’ Pennacooks, in search o’ the missing warriors, found +Kinkinnasett the next day, where the heels o’ the star-eyed buck +had sent him. It was seen that he must soon depart to the happy +hunting-grounds, but he lived long enough to tell them o’ the fate o’ +Sagawa and the strange buck. In the gorge, which had been dry before, +a tempest o’ boiling water was raging, the only evidence ever found +o’ Sagawa and the star-eyed buck. The reds have always believed that +the pond is bottomless and that it would be death to the warrior who +should be bold enough to go near it. So the tale ends in a tragedy, as +most Indian tales do. It is natural they should, for their lives were +tragedies in themselves.” + +“I have been to the pond,” said Rob, “and an ugly place it is. A +quaking bog encircles it, so one cannot very well get to the water. The +first time I was there it was still enough, but the next it was boiling +and tossing just as if there was a big fire under it.” + +“Ah, lad,” said the Woodranger, “it is a onnatural spot, and I have no +hankering to hang around it.” + +“But I should like to have seen the star-eyed buck,” said Johnny. “Do +you suppose it was bigger than a moose, Woodranger?” + +“Scurcely, lad, scurcely. I opine the reds exaggerated in their +descriptions. It was but human natur’ for ’em to do it.” + +“Don’t you suppose we could find a moose, Woodranger?” + +“We can find one pretty soon if we want to,” replied the forester. “I +have heerd the call o’ a bull moose twice sence I was telling that +Indian tale. It was fur away, but it is coming nearer.” + +“Then we can see one! Can’t we stalk it, Woodranger?” + +Billy Stark asked this question, but he was scarcely more excited than +his young companions. + +“Nay, nay, lads! Calm yourselves. Stalking moose is dangerous bizness +for youngsters, and I may be committing a sinful indiscretion in +permitting it. You must promise me you will keep by me and do just as I +say.” + +“We promise that, Woodranger. Lead the way!” + +“Hush, lads! it may not be the old fellow’s whim to come any nearer, +though it be a fine night for creeping. List, lads!” + +In answer to the Woodranger’s request, the boys instantly became +perfectly still, though their hearts beat with unwonted quickness, as +they listened and waited. A perfect silence lay on the scene around +them. After five minutes of this breathless stillness, when a strange +feeling of oppression bound one and all, the dull, heavy cry of an owl +came from the beech. It was actually a relief to hear it. Then, from +far away, was borne faintly to their ears the plaintive, prolonged howl +of a restless wolf. This was answered from another direction, soon +succeeded by the scream of a wildcat not far distant. Again the uneasy +owl broke forth with his glum _tu whoot, tu whoot_! + +These outcries, of nightly occurrence, had died away, and silence once +more reigned, when a wild, peculiar sound filled the forest, ending +more abruptly than it had begun, as if the creature giving it utterance +had been suddenly checked in the midst of its cry. It seemed a sort of +cross between a grunt and a roar, with a harsh, grating sound at the +end. Appearing to open from a far distance, it ended apparently near at +hand. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVII. + + “CREEPING” THE MOOSE. + + +“The moose!” exclaimed Rob Rogers, unable to remain silent any longer. +But a warning gesture from the Woodranger enjoined silence again, and, +wondering what his object could be now, the boys obeyed without a word. + +Three minutes passed, seeming to them half an hour, when for the second +time they heard the strange call. This time, however, it came from an +opposite direction to the one before, and was farther away. + +“It is as I opined,” declared the Woodranger; “there be two o’ ’em. But +they be drawing together. It means a fight at their meeting-place.” + +“I wish I could see it!” exclaimed the four boys in the same breath and +using exactly the same words. + +“It’s a good night for moose-creeping,” mused the Woodranger. “The wind +is right for us,” wetting one of his fingers and holding it up to prove +what he had said. “I may be committing a great indiscretion, seeing you +are mere novices in woodcraft, but if you have a mind to obey me, I’ll +resk it. It’ll be a goodish tramp, and it has got to be made as the +painter creeps. The moose is wary,――is a tough creatur’ when aroused. +At this time o’ the year he is the most dangerous o’ all the quadrupeds +that stalk the forest. Them out to-night are on the war-path. Foller +me if you want to see a sight worth a night’s perambulating, but do it +with light heels and a clear head.” + +The Woodranger then carefully covered the fire, and without further +words started into the forest, skirting the base of the mountain with +that silent, rapid step of his, which puzzled the boys to imitate. By +this time the full moon was peering over the crest of the mountain on +the east, giving the wild scene that peculiar lustre belonging to its +light. Not a breath of air stirred the tree-tops, while the atmosphere +had that clear crispness belonging to October. + +Speaking to his young companions only at rare intervals, and then in +whispers, the Woodranger continued to thread the forest like a shadow +for more than a mile. The boys did their best to move as silently as +he, but somehow the dry twigs always seemed to be where they stepped, +though in all that distance the moccasined feet of their guide had not +given back a sound. + +As soon as they had left the base of the mountain, their course had +been through a growth of hard woods, beech, maple, walnut, with the +accompanying smaller growths of kindred nature. The surface of the +ground was, for the most part, uneven, and often they were forced to +make considerable detours in order to get around huge boulders piled in +their way. Sometimes, too, they were forced to climb sharp ascents, and +then descend broken declivities. During all this time, no sound of the +moose had reached their ears. + +But now the Woodranger paused on the summit of a rocky hill, covered +with a growth of oaks, which was not so dense but that the moonlight +threw broad bars of silver across their path. As if anticipating what +was coming, the forester bent his head forward in a listening attitude, +while his whole form remained as motionless as a statue. The four boys, +without questioning his motives, did as he did, though keeping so quiet +soon brought pains to every joint. + +The call of the moose was now plainly heard, and freighted with greater +anger and impatience than before. Its reply came almost instantaneously +this time, and from so near at hand that the younger listeners could +not help starting with surprise. + +“They are going to meet, as I thought, by the little pond half a mile +below here,” said the Woodranger, in his cautious whisper. “Lads, if we +go on, it must be with a proper trailing o’ good jedgment. It isn’t +the knack o’ a good guide to worry his comrades, but knowing a lad’s +wanton waste o’ care and patience, I don’t want you to run your heads +into the slipping noose without proper words spoken. I have promised to +get every one o’ you home in presentable shape, and I ’low I think more +o’ that leetle word’n all the moose round old Pawtuckaway. Let me see +your weepon, Norman.” + +Our hero handed the forester his rifle, and the other, holding it so +the moonlight fell fairly upon it, looked carefully at its priming, and +also scanned the firearm from butt to muzzle. + +“You put in the amount o’ powder I told you, lad?” + +“I did, Woodranger.” + +“And rammed the lead down keerfully, properly wadded?” + +“Yes.” + +“Let me take your hand, lad.” + +When the guide had taken the proffered hand and held it fully a minute, +he loosened his clasp, and, giving back Norman his rifle, declared: + +“You’ll do, lad. Robby I know o’ old; but it won’t do any harm for me +to look at your priming, Robby. Often one’s futur’ depends on the way +he has placed a grain o’ powder.” + +Rob’s weapon passing satisfactory examination, he then looked at +the guns of the Stark boys, both of which he re-touched with a few +grains of powder from his horn, after which he looked closely at the +flints. As he had done with Norman, he held the hand of each, and found +Billy labouring under great excitement. Saying nothing of this, the +Woodranger continued: + +“You will walk next to me, Norman, then Johnny and Billy, with Robby to +kiver the rear. Remember under no circumstances are you to fire until I +give the signal. I know o’ a good kiver for us, which we will reach at +our next perambulation. The breeze still comes from the west-sou’west, +and the night is favourable for you to see an amazement you’ll ne’er +disremember, unless that ol’ bull disapp’ints us. You ne’er can tell +what a bull moose is going to do next. Mebbe this one is mad enough to +foller to the eend. _Creep!_” + +With the utterance of the last word, the Woodranger stealthily advanced +again, his companions at his heels in the order mentioned. To Norman, +more than to his young companions, this noiseless march through the +wilderness was something strange and thrilling, though he had never +felt calmer in his life. While he had never seen one, he knew that the +moose was the monarch of the New England forests. If the Woodranger +had shown unusual caution in allowing them to accompany him so far, he +understood the reason underlying his action, and he resolved it should +be no fault of his if the other ever had reason to regret the risk he +was taking. + +He was in the midst of these reflections when the forester again +stopped, and motioned for his companions to do the same. They had now +gained the edge of a thicket of hemlocks, a few rods in length, which +grew on a slight eminence of land. Through this brush barrier was to +be seen, here and there, a glimmer of water. But they had not taken +a second glance about them before the cry of one of the moose, now +clearer and more startling than ever, was heard. + +“He’s near by!” whispered Rob. “I wonder where――” + +The Woodranger checked him with a motion of the hand. Then he dropped +silently upon his hands and knees, and began to crawl into the midst +of the hemlocks, beckoning for the others to follow. Nothing loath, +they soon gained his side. At that moment a loud splash in the water +was heard. Then they gazed on a sight well worth all the pains they had +taken. + +Outlined in the clear moonlight, with a vividness which exaggerated +his size and made him seem to the boys like a monster beast, the moose +stood in plain sight of the curious watchers. The water of the pond +reaching nearly to his knees, he had thrown his antlered head up, +expanded his nostrils, and sniffed the still air for danger, or an +answer to his challenge. + +As they watched the giant creature, he swayed his head to and fro with +a sort of seesaw motion, without moving the body or limbs. At that +moment Norman felt the Woodranger’s hand laid on his arm, and, as the +grasp tightened, he was led, as if by intuition, to look toward the +forest on their left. He could scarcely suppress an exclamation of +amazement, as he looked on an exact counterpart of the first moose, +except that the newcomer, which was moving through the growth at a +shambling trot, was larger and more fierce-looking than the other. + +How the ponderous and ungainly creature, with an apparently clumsy, +unwieldy gait, could move with such ease and silence, was a mystery to +the young onlookers. But, as noiselessly as he had come, it was certain +his rival had been warned of his approach. The head of the waiting +moose stopped its gyrations, but the grating of his teeth was plainly +heard. + +When within fifty yards of the moose in the water, the newcomer halted. +He was now nearly opposite our little party, and would have afforded +a good mark for the Woodranger’s rifle. But his weapon, as well as +those of the boys, was single-barrelled. Should he prove successful +with his shot, it would in all probability arouse the other moose to +attack them, and prudence demanded that he move with extreme caution in +challenging two such foes. Then, too, he had a desire nearly as strong +as that of his young companions to see what the fierce animals would do +to each other. + +At that moment, however, a change suddenly came over the attitude of +the smaller moose, which began to sniff the air in an uneasy manner. +The meaning of this was made apparent by the words of the Woodranger, +spoken in a cautious whisper: + +“The wind has changed! He has scented us. We are in for an amazement!” + + + + + CHAPTER XXVIII. + + THE BATTLE OF THE MONARCHS. + + +The boys understood at once their danger. Happily for them, however, +the situation was quickly changed by a short, hoarse, rasping roar +from the larger moose. This cry, which made the young hunters tremble, +brought from the other animal an answer even more terrific, leaving no +doubt of his acceptance of the challenge. + +What followed baffles detailed description. Renewed splashing came +from the edge of the pond. The big, staring eyes of the second moose +glowered with rage and jealousy, his teeth champed together with a +harsh, grating sound, his hair stood erect, while he lowered his horns +so the points of his mighty head stood out in front like the lance of a +doughty knight of old. Then his ponderous form shot through the bushes, +immediately following which the breathless listeners heard another +splash of water, another grunt of defiance, a clash, like the ringing +of many swords, and the battle of the monarchs was begun. + +The scene that succeeded was one never to be forgotten by the +witnesses. It was evidently from the start a combat to the death, and +its whole aspect was appalling. The clashing of their huge antlers +could have been heard for miles on that clear, still, frosty night. +Reeling back from the first shock, the furious antagonists rallied with +redoubled vigour, swaying from side to side, twisting their ponderous +necks, each striving with limb and body, head and antlers, to overpower +his rival. + +Such a struggle could not last long. Soon the smaller moose was pushed +back toward the shore of the pond, whose water was churned into foam +by the combatants. It was already evident that the other was to be +the victor. Then, above the clashing of the terrible horns, sounded a +bellow of pain. The huge antlers of one of the opposing monarchs was +now crimsoned with blood. The next moment, with another roar of rage +and suffering, the other staggered sidewise, and then was hurled to the +ground with a shock which made the earth tremble for rods away. + +With a grunt of triumph the victorious brute, shaking aloft his cruel, +reeking horns, looked around, as if expecting another enemy ready for +him. Save for his heavy breathing, not a sound broke the stillness of +the scene. As far as the little group of spectators could see, the +fallen monarch lay perfectly still. + +The victor stood under the edge of the forest overhanging the pond, +where the bars of moonlight showed his gigantic form plainly to the +concealed hunters. + +“He scents us!” whispered the Woodranger. “He’ll find us in a jiffy, +onless he takes it into his head to go away, which it ain’t at all +likely he will do in his ugly mood. No, he won’t run off now, and we +don’t want him to if he would. Stand firm, lads, and when I give the +word fire. Don’t waste your powder.” + +The big animal had begun to roll its heavy head, and show signs of +greater uneasiness. + +“It’s too far to resk a shot,” muttered the Woodranger, but not loud +enough to be heard any distance. “The time to take him will be when he +crosses that bar o’ moonlight yonder. Norman, hold your shot. ’Twon’t +be best for all to fire at first, as one can ne’er tell what a bullet +is going to do with a moose. Be ready for the signal, Rob, and kiver +that dark spot behind the fore leg. Johnny and Billy follow. Now for an +amazement!” + +As he finished speaking in his low tone, the forester drew the barrel +of his rifle across one of the small hemlocks, making a noise like the +scraping of a moose’s horn against a tree. + +He had no sooner done this than the moose, evidently believing it to +be the movement of another rival, gave a deep grunt, and started +noiselessly toward the little group in the thicket. Knowing that the +critical moment was at hand, the boys clutched their weapons with +firmer holds, and the three who were to fire at the Woodranger’s signal +raised themselves, as silently as possible, on one knee, and held their +rifles in readiness for the word. + +“When his shoulder comes under the moonlight,” whispered the +Woodranger. But, as if knowing by some strange intuition that it was +the danger-line, the moose paused in the shadows of the deep forest +before reaching the little opening. For three or four minutes he stood +there peering into the space around him, listening for some sound to +guide him. + +At last, as if intending to circle the dangerous ground, as is the +habit of the creature, before charging an unknown enemy, the moose +began to move off into the deeper woods. The boys felt their muscles +relax, though big lumps had come into their throats and they could hear +each other breathe. It was a disappointment to see the big fellow go +away without trying to get him. + +The Woodranger was evidently as anxious as they, and he had no +intention of losing the opportunity of capturing the monster, or to +risk a more unfavourable situation. Again he scraped his rifle barrel +across the hemlock, and then he gave expression to a grunt, imitating +the moose so perfectly and sounding so near that the four boys gave +starts of terror in spite of their schooling. But this was forgotten in +the exciting scenes quickly following. + +The moose stopped abruptly in his silent advance, turned sharply and, +regardless of the consequence, bounded forward with all of his former +rage. + +Ever on the alert, Rob Rogers was ready for the monster, and as his +huge form dashed into the opening his rifle rang out on the night +air. A moment later the weapons of the Stark boys pealed forth +simultaneously. But the moon makes an uncertain light for the best +marksman, and if the boys hit the desperate animal, their shots did not +in the least check his advance. With more fury than ever he charged on +the little party in the hemlocks. + +Norman, feeling that it was time for him to act, had raised his rifle +to take aim at the next favourable opportunity, when he felt a thrill +of horror at the sound of another moose at his elbow. + +The Woodranger had already heard the cautious movements of the moose in +the rear, and its low, harsh grunt had barely fallen on Norman’s ears +before the forester exclaimed: + +“Look to the other, lad! I’ll care for the creatur’ in front.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXIX. + + TEST SHOTS――THE SNOW-STORM. + + +It was indeed a moment fraught with great peril to the little party. As +if it were not enough to meet the enraged monster in front without the +appearance of this second giant, stealing upon their rear so swiftly +and silently! + +Quickly understanding the situation, and vexed to think he had missed +the moose at which he had fired, Rob Rogers began to reload his gun +with a dexterity an older woodsman might have envied. In a trice he had +poured a stiff charge of powder into the barrel of his weapon, and, +as brief as was the interval, he was actually dropping a bullet down +its throat as the ringing sound of the Woodranger’s firearm awoke the +silence. In answer to “Old Danger’s” loud alarm, the oncoming moose +gave a terrific roar of pain, staggered for a moment in his advance, +and then fell in a huddled heap a few yards away. + +Meanwhile Norman had not been idle. Knowing that not only his life but +the safety of his companions as well depended on his efforts, he calmly +faced the newcomer. The report of the forester’s rifle had scarcely +rung out before that of his own succeeded. Then there was a second +outburst of pain, a crash in the undergrowth, and Norman suddenly felt +himself hurled fiercely to the earth. + +The charge of the dying moose was its last movement, for it fell near +the young ranger, one long fore limb over his body and the bulky neck +over his head! + +“Norman’s killed!” cried Billy Stark, the first to break the silence +following the end of the startling fight. “The moose――” + +“God spare him!” cried the Woodranger, ignoring everything else, as +he sprang to the side of the unconscious youth. With swift action he +lifted the moose’s leg, and gently dragged our hero away from the body +of the dead creature. Then he fell upon his knees over him and began to +rub his hands and chafe his temple. “I’ll ne’er lift head again if he +be dead. Look up, lad! Open your eyes. Smile once a-more!” + +The other boys had now gathered about the spot, upon which the pale +moon threw a weird light, making their forms look phantom-like, as they +flitted to and fro. + +“Is he dead?” asked Rob, in a low tone. + +“I pray not, lad. Get me a leetle water from the pond.” + +Rob lost no time in obeying the simple command, and then, as the +Woodranger bathed Norman’s brow with the cooling liquid, he exclaimed, +happily: + +“He lives, lad! Thank God I am not his slayer in dragging him down +here.” Then, as if this were not sufficiently plain, he added: “It +would have seemed like wanton killing for me to have ’lowed him to be +taken away in that keerless manner. I oughter knowed! I oughter knowed!” + +The strong man showed great emotion, and as Norman started to a sitting +posture he caught him in his arms, crying: + +“Forgi’ me, laddie, forgi’ me! Say that you are not hurt and that you +forgi’ an ol’ man’s keerlessness. I love thee none the less, lad, that +I ’lowed you to fall in sich a trap.” + +“I am not hurt, Woodranger,” said Norman, now able to think and act +clearly. “The old fellow did give me a hard thwack over the head, but I +think I came out of it better than he did. Is the other one dead?” + +“I think I may be safe in saying so, seeing Ol’ Danger spoke his +purtiest piece. But that was an awful indiscretion o’ mine. I do not +wish to dissemble, but I was deceived o’er that other creatur’. I had +no idee he had the life to do that.” + +“Do you think it is the moose which was beaten by the other on the +shore of the pond?” asked Rob, who showed great joy to find that his +friend had come off so well, after all. + +“I think so, lad. He wasn’t so hard hit as we s’posed. But you may see +for yourself.” + +Taking the hint, Rob ran out to where the battle between the giants had +taken place, and though he found ample evidence of the fight, he failed +to find the body of the smaller moose. There could be no longer any +doubt. He had rallied sufficiently to make his attack on Norman. It was +a light-hearted group of moose hunters which gathered about the huge +forms of the monarchs of the wilderness. + +“You have got a knack at shooting, lad,” said the Woodranger, +addressing Norman, “or you could ne’er have fired a shot like that. +Your life depended on it. I had to use my ammunition on the other, or +it might have fared ill with us from him. Mind you, I say _might_ have +fared ill, for no man can foretell what a mad moose may do.” + +“To think,” said Rob, who had not recovered from his chagrin at the +thought that he had missed his mark, “that I should have blundered so. +Don’t blame me, Woodranger, but I never felt more certain of my aim.” + +“Ne’er chide thyself, lad. Older gunners than you have missed their +moose. But ere we mourn let us see if you did not after all send the +bit o’ lead where it oughter done its duty.” + +Upon examination, it was found that all three of the bullets fired by +the three boys had hit the animal, and one of them had touched a vital +spot. This proved to be Rob’s bullet beyond dispute, so that he felt in +better spirits. + +“You see, lad, you have no reason to complain. You did remarkably well; +but a moose, like a red, dies hard. Perk up, lad! it’s myself who +desarves the chiding for throwing away my lead on a creatur’ a’ready +death-struck. They be monster moose. This a-one will not weigh less’n +thirteen hundred, while the other is scurcely a hundredweight lighter.” + +Continuing to talk while he kept his hands busy, the Woodranger soon +removed the antlers of the giant brutes. The horns from the larger, as +near as they could estimate, were over five feet, and the blades were +over a foot in width. This pair had twenty-six points, while those +of the other, but a trifle smaller, had twenty-four. Both pairs were +in good condition, and the boyish possessors felt extremely proud of +them, it having been voted that Norman should have those belonging to +the moose he had killed, while Rob seemed entitled to the others. The +Woodranger waived all claim to them. + +“You fairly ’arned ’em, lads. I have memory sufficient o’ this +amazement without sich reminders.” + +Altogether it was an adventure none of them would be likely to forget, +but it had ended happily, and all were pleased with their night’s work. +It was past midnight before they got back to their camping-place under +the cliff of old Pawtuckaway, and the boys were glad of an opportunity +to rest. Both moose had been dressed by the Woodranger, and the meat, +after reserving a generous portion to take to camp, had been spitted +upon trees, whence they could get it later. + +The sky was then overcast, and inside of two hours it was snowing hard, +so that four or five inches fell before sunrise. It continued to snow +until noon, and the hunters remained in camp under such poor shelter as +they had hastily raised. The tedium of the occasion was removed by the +Woodranger’s quaint stories of forest life, of which he seemed to have +no end. His keen power of observation was apparent in all that he said, +and the boys learned more that day than they had ever dreamed before +of the lives and habits of the dumb creatures of the wilderness. That +afternoon they had a grand hunt for deer, succeeding in getting two +fine specimens. + +The next day the boys were glad to return to their homes, loaded down +with as much game as they could carry, with several loads carefully +placed where the wild beasts could not reach it, for them to go after +whenever they should find it convenient. While we are speaking of the +matter, it may be well to say that this was done at one trip, through +the kindness of Mr. Stark, who lent the boys his oxen to draw home the +load. There were roads and cart-paths to within two or three miles of +Pawtuckaway, which they followed with the team, making it easier to go +and come, though there had to be a goodly amount of lugging and tugging +to be done at the end of the route. + +Of course warm welcomes greeted them at home, and Norman was relieved +to find that nothing had been seen or heard of Gunwad. However, they +were all to be forcibly reminded of him a few days later, when one of +the most disgraceful affairs which blot the history of Old Harrytown +took place. + + + + + CHAPTER XXX. + + THE BURNING OF CHRISTO’S WIGWAM. + + +The Monday following his return from the hunt Norman resumed work at +Mr. Stark’s, and on his way there in the morning he saw Christo, the +praying Indian, sitting in his doorway smoking his blackened pipe +with complacent ease. As he had not seen the red man for some time, +he stopped to speak to him, little realising under what different +circumstances they were next to meet. Though the Pennacook was inclined +to be morose over the misfortunes of himself and his race, he had +learned to like the lad. On this occasion Christo seemed very glad to +see him, and asked him particularly about his hunt to Pawtuckaway, and +his eye kindled with some of its old-time fire as he spoke of the deer +hunts his tribe had made in that vicinity in the years gone by. + +“Were the deer very plenty there then, Christo?” + +“Many moose; many bear; good hunting grounds.” + +Though he usually carried his dinner, that day Norman went home for +his noonday meal. He was seated at the table, eating, when he and his +grandfather saw Gunwad, with two strange men, coming up the road. +Expecting that the deer reeve was about to pay them another visit, they +were relieved to see him keep on past the house. When he was about to +pass out of sight, however, he stopped in the middle of the road, to +shake his fist toward them and stamp his foot in evident rage. + +“He disna want tae cum within reach o’ my staff!” exclaimed Mr. +MacDonald, moving uneasily on his seat. + +“Never mind him, grandfather; he is not worth a thought.” + +“He’s a fit hireling for the British usurpers!” + +“Nay, grandfather, now you do an honest body of men an injustice. +Gunwad is no more the representative of the Tyngs men than――” + +“Tut, tut, laddie! I houp the Woodranger has got nane o’ his simple +jabberings into yer noddle.” + +“I try to do all justice, grandfather. It is possible the English will +show that they have better rights here than we and our friends. It is +a foolish quarrel, and it seems to me we are being made into catspaws +for those higher in power. But don’t let anything I have said worry +you. Mr. Stark tells me the Tyngs men are planning to raise their +meeting-house the last of the week. He is going to the raising, and I +think I shall. I believe it is the duty of all to turn out, for they +have had a hard time in getting it.” + +“A’ their ain faut, laddie. They hae nae business here. I’m feart ye +hae got ideas intae yer heid that are nae healthy.” + +Leaving Norman to return to Mr. Stark’s as soon as he had finished his +dinner, let us keep in sight of Gunwad, whose purpose in coming to +Namaske was to make another attempt to find and arrest Christo. He had +good reasons to believe he should be successful this time, as he had +been informed from a reliable source that the red man was again at home. + +Accordingly, though he approached with somewhat more boldness than +before, he advanced with some caution toward the humble abode, which +again had every appearance of being deserted. + +“If the red fool has run away this time I’ll scour th’ woods till I +find him!” muttered the deer reeve, as he continued to draw nearer with +his companions. A little later he was no longer in doubt. Christo was +again missing! + +“The coppery sneak somehow got wind I was comin’!” he exclaimed. “But +he can’t be fur away; he’s hidin’ somewhere in th’ woods. Mebbe he’s +watchin’ us, and thinks he can keep foolin’ me in this way. I calculate +two can play at some sich game. I’ll tear down his ol’ shanty afore +I’ll go back empty-handed this time. I hev a scheme thet’ll call him +in. Jes’ ye wait a minnit.” + +The deer reeve then scraped together a few leaves and small sticks from +the edge of the forest, and with his flint and steel and tinder-box, +which every man carried in those days, he quickly set fire to the +combustible pile. + +“Ain’t ye afeerd ye’ll excite the onery cuss to fire on us?” asked one +of his companions, who could see that this was a dangerous course to +pursue. + +“It would be the dearest shot he ever fired,” replied Gunwad. “Get me +some more underbrush, so the fire’ll rise higher. Ha, ha! nobody would +shed enny tears ef th’ ol’ bark hull itself should burn.” + +He had barely uttered the words when a puff of wind caught up the pile +of burning matter and carried it through the opening leading into the +cabin. Fanned then by the wind, the blaze spread rapidly right and left. + +“For the Lord’s sake, Gunwad!” cried his companions, “put it out before +the old hut burns up!” + +Then, seeing the deer reeve showed no inclination to stop the fire, one +of them started forward to do so, when Gunwad caught him by the arm and +held him back, saying: + +“Let it burn, Bedlock! It’s the best sight I have seen for many a day. +If that don’t call th’ red fool home, I don’t know what will. Let’s +get back where we sha’n’t ’tract so much ’tention.” + +Gunwad seemed really pleased at the result of his work, and he watched +the fire streaming higher and higher, until the home of Christo was +fairly enveloped in the flames. While the three stood gazing on the +burning wigwam, without lifting a hand to extinguish the fire, new +actors appeared on the scene. + +The newcomers were none other than Norman and the Woodranger, the +latter having come along just as our hero was starting to return to Mr. +Stark’s. They had barely exchanged greetings before the fire arrested +their attention, and, realising the direction from whence it appeared, +they hurried toward the place. But they reached the scene too late to +save the dwelling, which, being little more than a bark shell, had +burned quickly. + +The presence of Gunwad, who had not been able to get out of sight in +season to escape the eyes of the forester, suggested to him that the +deer reeve had knowledge of the cause of the fire, and he said: + +“Did you, like us, Goodman Gunwad, get here too late to save the red +man’s home?” + +“’Pears to me yer eyes oughter tell ye,” replied the deer reeve, who +moved uneasily under the other’s close scrutiny. “I reckon there won’t +be any tears shed over th’ cleanin’ up. Th’ fool might hev stayed at +home.” + +“Where is Christo?” + +“I don’t know as I’m obleeged to keep track o’ th’ red nigger.” + +“I can ne’er dissemble, Gunwad,” said the Woodranger, with more +directness, as if the truth was evident to him, “I hope you ne’er had +any hand in this. I say it for your sake, and for the sake o’ every man +in Harrytown.” + +“Bah! Th’ ol’ shell weren’t worth what has already been said. The red +was never overfriendly to me, or any white man, for that matter, except +it was _ye_.” + +This insinuation was lost upon the Woodranger, who continued to make +the deer reeve uneasy by his steady look. + +“It isn’t the worth o’ the building, Gunwad, but the principle at +stake. It was all the abiding-place the last o’ the red race had. Here, +in sight o’ his ancestral home, he had hoped to pass the remainder o’ +his natural days in peace. So he told me. I cannot dissemble, Gunwad, +but to me it seems a greater wrong to fire the simple dwelling o’ this +untutored red than it would be to set torch to the proudest home in the +king’s land. Alack a man! I’m sorry to see this and to know――” + +“As it happens, I did not set fire to th’ miserable ol’ wigwam!” broke +in Gunwad, who moved away, muttering under his breath words he was +careful the other should not hear. + +“I am glad to hear you say that, Gunwad, for I feared me you had +committed an indiscretion which would work you naught but evil. If you +know how the fire caught, I would advise you to see the unhappy red +man, and explain it to him.” + +“I shall do nothing of the kind!” exclaimed the deer reeve, who the +next minute disappeared from the scene with his companions following at +his heels. + +“I’m sorry o’ this,” said the Woodranger to Norman, when the others had +left them standing alone by the smoking ruins. “I fear me it bodes harm +to the white settlers along the valley. It is just sich amazements as +this, as keeps the reds on edge.” + +“But there is peace with the Indians now, Woodranger, and has been +since Lovewell’s victory over the Pequawketts.” + +“Soon to be broken, lad, soon to be broken, I fear me. Alack a man! +if the whites would remember that they are civilised, and not lower +themselves to the level o’ savages in treating with ’em, far less o’ +innocent blood would be shed. But there’s no reason in an angry man’s +heart, and one like Gunwad will kindle more fires than a hundred better +men can put out.” + +“Gunwad has gone down by the house,” said Norman, who could not forget +that fact. “I hope he will not trouble grandfather, who is easily +aroused at sight of him.” + +“I read your thoughts, lad. Go on to your work, and I will see this +Gunwad does not vex the old man.” + +“Thank you, Woodranger. I shall feel safe if you are near him. I +suppose I must go on to Mr. Stark’s. The days are short at this season +of the year.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXXI. + + THE WOODRANGER SURPRISES MR. MacDONALD. + + +Though the Woodranger started away from the scene of the burned wigwam +with Norman, he lingered somewhat in sight of the place, as if loath +to depart. Even after he passed down the road from sight of the spot, +he cast anxious glances back, as if he were looking for the homeless +Pennacook. + +“I must try and see him, and counsel with him,” he said, aloud. “I +am sure the whites will gladly make his loss good to him. But, alack +a man! it is not that. It is the arrow o’ wrong which will enter his +heart. He cannot understand that one Gunwad does not represent the +white population, as a red may represent a whole tribe o’ his race.” + +As the Woodranger came in sight of Mr. MacDonald’s home, he saw the old +Highlander standing in the middle of the road, looking anxiously in +the direction whence he was coming. At sight of him, the other started +to retreat toward the house; then, as if thinking better of it, he +remained by the side of the highway, saying, as the forester approached: + +“What means yon fire, Maister Woodranger? I felt it was a hame burnin’.” + +“So it was, my good man, and no home less than that of Christo, the +praying Indian.” + +“I’m sad for Christo, though I ne’er felt weel acquaint wi’ the strange +coloured man. Say, Maister Woodranger, I houp there was nae unfair work +in it.” + +“So do I, Mr. MacDonald. I trust that Gunwad has passed by in peace?” + +“He did, maister. I dinna like that man.” + +“Not the best o’ company, sir. I trust you are feeling well to-day.” + +“As weel as an auld man should expect. This weather is tryin’ on sic’ a +broken-doon frame as mine.” + +“Nay, my good friend, you are not one who should talk o’ a broken-down +frame. You are ne’er an ol’ man.” + +“Auld in sorrow, sir, if nae in years.” + +“That is because you live too much in the past, my good friend. Live so +the light o’ the futur’ shall build beacon-fires along your trail. He +who lives in the past lives a life o’ double sorrow. It makes him ol’ +in his prime. It has made you ol’ in your sixties, when sich a stalwart +frame as thine should be erect as the pine.” + +There was truth in the bold declaration, and even in the bitterness of +his heart the old Highlander knew it. But to be told the fact in that +sudden manner amazed him. It was some time before he could manage to +exclaim: + +“Who taught thee that, man?” + +“I did not have to look to man to l’arn it. The leetle, nimble-footed +squirrel, his merry heart the target for every thoughtless youth, +taught me the blessed secret. The bird has retold it in his song. I +read it in the heart o’ natur’. Man don’t want to go to the school o’ +civilisation to be told the things which make life worth living. Your +days have been all yesterdays. You have fought the battle o’ Glencoe +till you have wrung your heart dry!” + +“Ye lie, man! I hae a mind to beat the truth into yer thick held wi’ my +staff. What dae ye ken o’ sorrow?” + +The Woodranger, appearing perfectly indifferent to his excitement, +replied in his slow, simple manner: + +“All that any man knows who has seen all that is dear to him slip +away,――his heart plucked out by piecemeal, and put back all bleeding +and torn, to heal as it might. Man is a poor, misguided fool who +continually prods his wounds, that he may let others see ’em bleed. Do +not think me ungrateful, sir. I love thee as a son might a father.” + +“I canna understand you!” muttered the old Highlander. “I――I think ye +be a MacDonald!” + +“As if that was the highest compliment you could pay me. I have no +knack o’ dissembling; if you mean I’m lacking in common sense, then out +with it, man. What availed all the boasts o’ your MacDonalds? They were +the weakest in their strength, the most foolish in their wisdom! You +remind me o’ an oak, which one stroke o’ the lightning blasted while it +stood proudly defying its wrath. Pardon me again, sir, for my tongue +does babble like a brook, which to be made useful, must be dammed.” + +Mr. MacDonald, used all his life to speak his mind without being +contradicted, was dumfounded. At first, he was angered, then perplexed, +and then he finally managed to say, though his words were scarcely in +keeping with the trend of the conversation: + +“Ye’re a Scotchman?” + +“If I am, it was my birthright; if I am not, I do not bewail the fact.” + +“A Scotchman,” resumed the Highlander, “and yet gaun amang the boastful +Britons, an’ carryin’ a French gun;” as if this last fact was the +greatest sin. + +“The oak growing beside the poplar, sir, is none the less an oak. I’ve +seen a birch growing from the rotten side o’ a maple, where a seed had +somehow lodged, but it was still a birch, as pure as the mother stock. +I habitate with all men equally, and not less with my red brother whose +ways are peaceful. As to carrying a French rifle, I cannot dissemble. +Did they make one more to my liking I should not be above carrying +one. As to the weapon I have here, which I am free to confess is a +loved companion, it is a bit o’ a consait o’ mine. The stock, it may +be, was made by a Frencher, as I took it from the hand o’ Father Ralle, +as the red-hearted priest fell on the day his horde was routed at +Norridgewock. The barrel was sadly twisted, and not liking the thing, +I had one wrought by the cunning o’ Old Seth. It may be he did follow +something the Frencher’s style, but he was not ashamed to put his mark +on it. That tells whether it be French or not,” holding up, as he +spoke, the firearm so Mr. MacDonald could read, engraved on a tablet +sunk into the stock, the initials “S. P.” + +Those letters stood for the name of the best known man in New England +at that time, Seth Pomroy, “the Gunmaker of Northampton,” afterwards +noted as a soldier in the Indian wars and the Revolution. Many of the +brave men of the Woodranger’s days carried rifles of his make, which +were not excelled by any that could be found. + +At that moment, Rilma, who had been watching the two from the door, +rushed forward with childish impetuosity to greet the Woodranger, but +her grandfather would fain have kept her back. + +“Bide in the hoose, lassie. I will soon cum in mysel’.” + +“But I want to speak to Woodranger, grandfather.” + +“Back, I say! A man who openly boasts o’ seekin’ the companionship +o’ wild beasts in preference to men is nae fit company for sic a wee +lassie as thee.” + +Rilma retreated, as ordered, though she could not help showing her +disappointment. The Woodranger turned silently away, and without +another word started down the road. But Mr. MacDonald called to him: + +“Had on, man! I havena said my last wird wi’ ye yet. I wud question ye +much more.” + +The forester stopped, saying in his simple, straightforward way: + +“Your incivility surprises me, sir. It is true I have habitated with +the wild creatur’s o’ the forest, but in all my perambulating I ne’er +met wolf with less o’ humanity, nor bear with more o’ brute than you +exhibit in chiding the child o’ thy only son. It may be I’m unsuited to +mingle in the genteel ways o’ civilisation, but I’ve l’arned what you +have not, that the finest natur’ has the most sensitive heart. I may +have forgotten the leetle book l’arning I got, but I have picked up a +leetle o’ the wisdom that wells from the springs o’ natur’. An’ while +man’s l’arning is e’er open to error, natur’ is ne’er at fault.” + +The Highlander showed that he felt the merited rebuke, and his next +words were milder: + +“If I ought to cane ye for yer insolence I’ll overlook ye. If ye care +to speak to the strange man, lassie, who is a saint or a deil, ye may.” + +“I do want to speak to him, grandfather. I love him as if he was my own +father.” + +At the utterance of this simple speech, which was but the honest +conviction of an unsophisticated heart, she ran swiftly to his side, +and to the amazement of the old Highlander he clasped her in his arms. +While he stood there trembling between suppressed excitement and wonder +he seemed to have suddenly become possessed of a new idea, for he asked +with great earnestness: + +“Ye’re a Scotchman! Did ye ken my son Alick?” + +“I may have met him, sir!” was the surprising reply. + +“May have met him, man?” fairly shrieked the other. “Can ye say +that and be so quiet? My Alick was a bonnie boy, the noblest o’ the +MacDonalds.” + +“Which may be a poor meed o’ praise, sir. But I do not wish to pain +a father’s heart. Nothing that I can say will mend the broken dish. +There, child, I must be gone.” + +The latter sentence was addressed to Rilma, and, kissing her, he +tenderly disengaged her hands, and before she or her grandfather could +speak had disappeared around a turn in the road below the house. + +“Run after him, lassie!” cried the Highlander. “Tell him to cum back. I +fain wud ask him mair o’ Alick.” + +Nothing loath she obeyed, but when she reached the place where he had +last been seen, the Woodranger was not in sight. Disappointed she +returned to the house. + +“I dinna read him!” muttered the old man. “An’ ye say there was tears +in his e’en as he let ye go, lassie? A strange man surely.” Then, after +a pause, he added: “He maun be a MacDonald!” + + + + + CHAPTER XXXII. + + ZACK BITLOCK’S DEER. + + +Norman was returning from Mr. Stark’s at the close of the day, when, +as he was passing the path leading from the road to the ruins of +Christo’s wigwam, he fancied he heard some one speak. At a loss to know +the meaning of the sound, he approached the little clearing about the +Pennacook’s home. As he drew nearer the cries became plainer, though +not more intelligible, and he discovered the dark figure of Christo, +the homeless warrior, standing at the edge of the forest. + +Half-concealed by the deep shadows falling about him, the Pennacook was +looking intently at the little pile of ashes which marked his ruined +home, and his right arm moved slowly to and fro, while he continued his +low, intense speech, which Norman could not fail to know was expressive +of the deepest feeling, though he could not understand a word. + +[Illustration: “HIS RIGHT ARM MOVED SLOWLY TO AND FRO.”] + +“I wish Woodranger was here,” thought our hero as he stood a silent +spectator of the dramatic scene. “I dare not break in upon him.” + +These thoughts had barely shaped themselves in his mind, when the +Indian, with a wider and fiercer sweep of his arm, suddenly turned +away, and pulling his blanket closer about his tall form, disappeared +in the forest, and never again was he seen in the vicinity of Namaske. + +Norman resumed his homeward journey with a heavy heart. + +“I am sorry for him. I wish it had not happened. If Woodranger had only +been here he might have pacified him.” + +Upon reaching his home, he found his grandfather still labouring under +great excitement over the conversation he had had with the Woodranger. + +“He’s a strange man, laddie. I dinna read him.” + +“What did he say, grandfather?” asked Norman, who was both surprised +and interested to know what the forester had said to so excite his +grandfather. + +“Say, lad? He said much. Why, he said to my teeth――an’ me a +MacDonald!――he said twa times, in as many words, that I was but a puir, +misguided fule! Min’ ye, he said that, an’ I ne’er raised a finger. I +was――I was dumb! No ane e’er lived to say that afore. Say, lad, d’ye +think I’m gaun awa’ wi’ my min’? He said that I was auld afore my time; +that my stalwart frame was in its prime. Weel, it may be he was not sae +far frae the truth, aifter a’. Is my form so bent, lad?” and the old +Highlander drew himself up, until he stood as straight as a post, six +feet and three inches of stalwart manhood. + +“You were never more erect, grandfather, and you really are not so very +old.” + +“Sixty-eight, laddie. Cum tae think o’t, I’m nae sae dreadfu’ auld. The +MacDonalds hae always been lang-lived. But that strange man compared us +as faither an’ son. Can he be sae young?” + +“Woodranger once said he was forty-four. People have got into a +peculiar habit of calling him old, when――” + +“Just the age o’ ma Alick, the bonniest laddie in a’ Scotland!” +exclaimed Mr. MacDonald, his excitement returning. “Gang an’ find that +Woodranger, laddie, as soon as may be. I want to hear him ca’ me a +_fule_ again, and see if I will stand idle by.” + +The Woodranger, however, very much to their disappointment, was not +seen again in that vicinity for some time. Mr. MacDonald continued to +speak of him almost every day, and declare that he would find him. + +About that time Mr. Stark was troubled by the depredations of a deer +in his corn shed, which he had built on to the end of his barn. The +creature had come two or three times, and, having got a taste of the +grain, was pretty sure to come again. With so many boy hunters in the +family, of course he had only to mention the fact to them, to be rid +of the troublesome visitor. But he happened to do so in the presence of +Zack Bitlock, who at once said: + +“Let me look arter the creatur’, ’squire. I’m in want o’ some meat. +’Sides, th’ boys will fill th’ poor creatur’ full o’ lead, an’ as like +as not let it git away.” + +Anticipating that there might be fun in store for them by yielding to +Goodman Bitlock, the boys did so with good grace. This would not hinder +them from being on hand to witness the squatter’s work, and also to get +the deer if it escaped the other, as they expected it would. + +Goodman Bitlock’s gun was a poor affair, as we already know, and he was +an indifferent marksman. But these facts did not enter into his plans. +He first borrowed the long deer thong which had served little Archie +Stark to such good purpose in hanging the bear. Subsequent events, +by the way, would seem to indicate that that affair suggested to him +his plan. He made a running noose in one end of the line and adjusted +it to such a nicety that the unsuspecting deer would thrust its head +through when it reached into the crib for its morning meal. The other +end he carried back into the loft among the corn shucks, and his simple +arrangements were complete. + +Late in the evening Goodman Bitlock crawled up into the midst of +the corn shucks to wait and watch for his victim. Not to be caught +unawares, he got a firm hold on the end of the line and then began his +lonely vigil. + +It is quite likely he fell asleep, for the deer did not appear on the +scene to act its part until the day was breaking, when the boys, Billy, +Johnny, and Archie, who were concealed in the cattle shed, saw a fine +looking buck approach the place and thrust its head and antlers through +the noose, and begin to eat ravenously of the succulent corn. But its +movements had partly dislodged the line, and feeling it drawing upon +its neck, the buck sprang backward with its first show of fright. + +The violent movement of the buck brought a wild cry from the loft, +giving it genuine alarm. The terrified deer tried to break away, and +started toward the forest with mighty bounds. This quickly brought +through the opening the doubled-up figure of Zack Bitlock. + +Somehow the squatter had got tangled up in the line, and now he found +it impossible to get clear. He gave utterance to half smothered cries, +as he was rudely jerked along at the heels of the terrified deer. + +“Help――save me!” he cried. “I’m a goner!” + +The boys quickly left their place of concealment, to save the +unfortunate man, whose situation was as perilous as it was ridiculous. + +Billy and Johnny had their guns with them, but, owing to the peculiar +situation of Goodman Bitlock, a shot would endanger his life. So, while +they followed at the top of their speed, the buck fled much faster +toward the woods. Whatever was done to save the victim must be done +quickly. + +“He’ll kill Zack!” cried Archie, who was finding it impossible to keep +up with his brothers. It certainly looked as if poor Goodman Bitlock +was on his last deer hunt. + +But an unforeseen accident suddenly changed the situation. The +frightened deer, finding its flight at last stopped by the top of a +fallen pine, instead of going around it made a bound into the air, to +leap the obstruction. It cleared even the topmost branches, but it had +not counted on the burden it was dragging away. The consequence was, +Goodman Bitlock was jerked up under the mass of branches, and there +he stuck. The deer, on the other side, managed to get his feet to the +ground, but beyond that he could not go. + +By the time the boys reached the scene, Bitlock had recovered +sufficient to begin a series of cries that was heart-rending: + +“Save me! I’m hung dead! I’m a goner!” + +“Have you got the deer, Goodman Bitlock?” asked Johnny, who, finding +there was no cause for further alarm, enjoyed the situation. This was +especially the more gratifying, as the squatter had boasted loudly of +his scheme for catching the creature. His reply was filled with despair: + +“Got th’ Ol’ Harry! I wish I hadn’t. Shoot him, quick!” + +“But that would fill him full of lead!” replied Johnny, with provoking +coolness. “Say, Zack, that is a pretty certain way of――” + +“Kill him, Johnny! He’s sawin’ me right in two! Oh――oh――oh! Cut th’ +rope if ye can’t shoot him.” + +The boys did not delay longer, but advanced into the thicket so as to +get a shot at the struggling buck. Before they could get into position +to fire, the buck suddenly bounded off into the woods with redoubled +speed. Goodman Bitlock had managed to get a knife out of his pocket and +cut the thong. + +Though they had lost the deer, the boys felt they had got as much sport +out of the affair as they had expected. + +“Gol-dang me!” exclaimed the discomfited squatter, as he scrambled to +his feet, looking exceedingly battered and bruised but not seriously +hurt, “when I git over this, boys, I want ye to larrup me with a +hickory sprout till ye git tired. Say, ef ye won’t say ennything erbout +my foolishness I’ll make ye th’ handsomest pair o’ snow-shoes ye ever +put on yer feet, I will, honest.” + +So the matter was dropped by the boys, except among themselves; but the +victim must have told some one himself, for the story leaked out, and +for a long time Bitlock’s deer was a standing joke in Old Harrytown. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIII. + + RAISING THE MEETING-HOUSE. + + +At this time, the all-absorbing topic of conversation in Tyng Township +was the raising of the new meeting-house, which had been long deferred +on account of the failure to build a mill to saw the necessary +lumber. In this important event, however, the Scotch-Irish showed +little interest. It is true they had no meeting-house, as the place +of worship was invariably called at that period, but they were able +to attend divine services in the town across the river, and thus did +not miss the building as much as their rivals. The Tyng colonists had +held occasional meetings at private houses, but it was not altogether +convenient or satisfactory. Then, too, there was a provision in their +grant calling for a house of worship, and until it was built they could +not conscientiously reply to the attacks of the others, who were not +above ridicule. So the raising of the meeting-house became the one +theme of conversation. + +All through the summer it had been planned to have the new house +ready for dedication at Thanksgiving; but the season had been so +unfavourable for out-of-door work, taken with other delays and +difficulties, that this had finally been given up. This became the more +necessary, as Thanksgiving came early that year, the thirteenth of +November having been appointed. + +But raising day came at last, fair but cold. Early in the morning the +men began to gather from far and near. Raisings in those times were +important events, and men, and even women, often came long distances +to be present and to lend such assistance as they could, either in +helping raise the big timbers or in assisting to prepare the supper +for the crowd of hungry workmen. If the raising of an ordinary house +would draw such a crowd, how many more must come to the raising of +a meeting-house. Men were at this raising under the Three Pines +of Tyng Township from Chelmsford, twenty-five miles distant, from +Old Dunstable, the home of the late Captain Tyng, from Nottingham, +Naticook, Londonderry, Chester, and other towns. One singular thing +was noticed and commented upon. Among the big crowd the most casual +observer did not fail to notice the absence of the Scotch-Irish. It is +true Mr. Archibald Stark was there, as he had said he should be, and +also a few others, but not a “baker’s dozen,” as some one remarked. + +But this did not trouble Mr. Anderson, the master builder, as long as +he saw in the eighty or more men collected enough strength to lift the +stout frame lying there ready to be put into proper position. + +Raisings meant something different in those days from what they do +now, when a building is “put up” by piecemeal. A whole side was +stoutly joined together on the ground, and then raised bodily by sheer +strength. Poles, with iron spikes in the end, were used to facilitate +the lifting, when the form had been raised as high as one could easily +reach. Then, at the loud command of the boss, “Up, up, up!” went the +heavy timbers, nothing like the cobwebs we put into buildings to-day, +until the tenons would slip into the mortises with a sharp report, and +the whole would stand as firm “as the rock-ribbed hills!” + +Tyng meeting-house being a large building for those days, its timbers +were uncommonly big, and being poorly seasoned, were extremely heavy; +but “many hands make light work,” and one side after another went up, +amid loud cheering and not a little drinking. + +Three sides had thus been brought into position, and the men seized +with a hearty will on the skeleton of the remaining wall. + +“Now, boys! all together,” cried Mr. Anderson; “heave-o!” + +Two men, who were not able to lift as well as some of the rest, had +each been stationed at the foot of the corner posts, so as to keep +them from slipping, and so far there had been no accident. But this +time, either one of the men had not planted himself with the necessary +firmness, or else the men had been more careless than common in lifting +the ponderous form, for one of the posts began to slip on the frozen +ground. + +“Hold firm, there, Robbins!” yelled Mr. Anderson. “Up with her, boys! +Heave-o! heave-o!” + +Slowly rose the mighty frame, notwithstanding that it was still +slipping in spite of the frantic efforts of the man at the base. It +had risen so far that in another moment it would be secure on its own +footing, when the man called Robbins lost his presence of mind. Instead +of bracing himself more firmly and holding on, he loosened his clutch +and retreated. + +The action imperilled the life of every man under the timbers. Should +the lifters drop the frame, a few might escape as it fell, but many +would certainly be crushed under the falling broadside. Each man, +knowing this, held upon the massive frame with all the strength he +could muster, so that for a moment the whole form was held balanced +almost free from the ground. It was a terrible moment. Even the noisy +Mr. Anderson was silent. + +Sometimes one young in experience will do what an older person would +fail to accomplish successfully. It is certain no man there could have +reached the foot of that sliding post as quickly as did Norman McNiel. +His position had been favourable for the action, but what was of more +vital importance, while others held their breath with terror, he had +presence of mind equal to the emergency. That post had got to be held +firm, or all would be lost! + +Near the foot of the timber was a stout hornbeam lever, which some one +had thrown down a moment before. Seizing this, and throwing enough of +his weight upon the lifting timber to keep it down, he planted one +end of the stout stick against the stonework, and brought the lever +over the foot of the post, so as to hold it where it was. Assured that +he could keep it from slipping further, he shouted to the overtaxed +workmen: + +“Now, all together, up with it! I can hold the foot.” + +His words gave hope to the nearly exhausted men, who, with an almost +superhuman effort, tugged anew at the heavy woodwork, which began to +rise again. + +“Heave-o, boys! Up she goes!” cried Mr. Anderson, exultantly. + +The next moment tenon and mortise met, a loud report followed, and the +huge broadside stood erect and firm. + +While Mr. Anderson and a few others flew to drive in the pins to make +sure of their work, most of the men sank upon the ground to rest. There +was general rejoicing, and one more enthusiastic than the rest proposed +three cheers for Tyngtown’s new meeting-house. + +“And three more for Norman McNiel,” said Mr. Anderson, “who made it +possible. If it hadn’t been for him, there would have been no cheering, +I can tell you.” + +Every one felt the truth of this, and one after another grasped +Norman’s hand, with generous thanksgiving on their lips. + +Thus Tyng Township meeting-house was raised, and the colonists went to +their respective homes with lighter hearts than they had known since +accepting the responsibilities of their grant. Norman went home with +Mr. Stark, who praised him heartily for his brave conduct. + +“Mark my words, lad, you have made more friends to-day than you had +before. When a man’s life is in actual danger, he is apt to appreciate +the effort made in his behalf. I minded that Gunwad was not there. He +has lost ground. That burning of Christo’s cabin has set every one +against him. It was a miserable act, wholly uncalled for. Well, I am +glad their meeting-house is at last on its feet. They cannot get it +finished before another summer.” + +If the Tyng colonists could not have their meeting-house to hold +services in on Thanksgiving day, they could at least observe the +occasion with their accustomed ardour, and a shooting-match, intended +to eclipse anything of the kind, was arranged to take place at that +time. It was expected that marksmen would come from far and near +to participate in the trial at arms. After persistent coaxing, +the Woodranger had been finally obtained to act as manager of the +ceremonies, but on the thirteenth a snow-storm set in. Every one was +glad to hover over the wide-mouthed fireplace for such warmth and +comfort as it afforded. It was the gloomiest Thanksgiving ever known in +Tyng Township, and its storm, to some, foreboded the end. + +The Woodranger was stopping at Captain Goffe’s, but as soon as he +had seen that the shooting-match would not take place, he showed his +uneasiness at the enforced idleness. + +“What! never at rest?” asked Mr. Goffe, senior. “Don’t you ever get +tired, old man?” + +“I should dissemble the great truth o’ natur’ if I said I did not, sir. +Ask the old man if he is never tired who sits in the chimney-corner +and sucks his thumbs, cap’n. I may have my weakness, but man on the +move is seldom tired. He gets oneasy, it is true, but motion is life, +inactivity death. Man might as well be a stump, fit only to be put up +in the clearing to stop deer from trespassing, as to sit idly down. I +think I’ll perambulate over toward ol’ Pawtuckaway, and mebbe I shall +hark a deer or a moose.” + +The snow fell so rapidly that before midnight a foot and a half lay on +the ground. Winter, it might be said, had fairly set in. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXIV. + + THE FRESHET. + + +The big snow-storm, which ushered in Thanksgiving day, lasted until +the fifteenth, when the weather cleared away biting cold. Then, on +the twenty-second, the cold abated, and a thaw set in, with peculiar +characteristics which have marked it in history as a season not to be +forgotten. It began to rain November twenty-fourth, and for twenty +days successively it kept unceasingly at it, but every evening the +stars would appear as bright as ever, and continue to shine until +past midnight. At daybreak the rain would again commence to fall as +furiously as ever. + +With the ground frozen and a big body of snow, this warm rain brought +such a freshet as the oldest settler had never seen. The ice in the +Merrimack broke up and the swollen stream carried huge cakes on its +turgid current, to the danger of lives and property.[3] + + [3] The snow melted and a freshet occurred in the Merrimack River, + nothing like it having been experienced there for seventy + years. At Haverhill, the stream rose fifteen feet, and many + houses were floated off.――_Perley’s Historic Storms of New + England._ + +At Cohas general alarm reigned, but at Namaske only one dwelling +was threatened, and that was the home of Robert MacDonald, which +unfortunately stood so low and near the bank of the stream that the +water came almost to the door. Still the occupants, finding at last +that it was rising no higher, hoped and believed that it would subside +before doing them harm. + +Archibald Stark called one afternoon to see if there had been any +change since the previous day and very confidently told them he +believed the worst over. + +Accordingly, the inmates retired that evening without dreaming of +further danger. But Norman had not fallen asleep, when a terrific roar +and rumbling, such as he had never heard in his life before, awoke the +night. + +Springing off his couch, he had barely begun to dress himself before +another crash was heard, and then a sound like the thunder of Namaske, +increased tenfold in volume. + +A loud rap at the door quickly followed, and a stentorian voice called +out: + +“Quick! your lives are in peril!” + +It was the Woodranger, and he showed his impatience by renewed thumping +against the log wall of the cabin. + +The next moment Norman was down on the lower floor, and found Mr. +MacDonald already dressed, while Rilma appeared the following minute. + +Norman had already opened the door, and the Woodranger came in as Rilma +appeared. + +“The river has broken over its bank!” exclaimed the forester. “The ice +dammed the stream and――hark!――we must get out o’ this amazement if +we value our lives. Lassie, let me carry you. Lad, follow with your +grandfather. Let there be no delay.” + +While speaking he caught the trembling Rilma in his strong arms, and +strode out of the door. Clasping his precious burden close to his +breast, the Woodranger swiftly passed the little valley lying between +the doomed dwelling and the higher land. + +Norman would have kept beside him, but his grandfather, in his +excitement, stumbled and nearly fell, just as the rushing water seemed +upon them! + +“Hurry, grandfather!” cried Norman, helping him to his feet. “The river +is making a channel around our home!” + +“The horn!” exclaimed the dazed Highlander. “I maun hae the auld――” + +Without stopping to hear more, Norman bounded into the house, seized +the horn, and an instant later was back beside his aged companion. + +But that moment lost was fatal to his hopes. So swiftly had the river +risen and swept down on its new course, that the wall of water was in +plain sight as Norman regained the side of his grandfather. + +Seizing him by the hand, and half dragging him along, he sped in the +direction the Woodranger had taken. + +But Mr. MacDonald seemed bewildered, and he did not move with the +necessary haste. Midway across the narrow valley Norman saw that it was +hopeless to think of escaping, though he pulled harder than ever upon +his aged companion in the endeavour to get him beyond the reach of the +rushing stream. Alone he might have escaped. + +The Woodranger, who had borne Rilma to a place of safety, gently put +her down and sprang back to lend his assistance to the others. Seeing +their peril, he would have rushed in to save them at the risk of his +own life, but he was too late. + +Sweeping everything in its pathway, the watery column reached the +hapless pair. Fortunately for Mr. MacDonald, the current struck him +in such a way that he was tossed toward the high ground, and dropped +almost at the feet of the Woodranger, who quickly caught hold of him +and dragged him away from the surging flood. Then he turned to look for +Norman. + +At that moment Mr. Stark, his boys, and half a dozen others appeared +on the scene, having come to warn his friends of the peril threatening +their home. + +Norman was caught by the swirling waters and borne away at a fearful +speed. He tried to save himself, but a cake of ice struck him on the +head, and that was the last he knew until he lay in the arms of the +Woodranger and the words of Mr. Stark came into his ears: + +“Mark how he loves the boy.” + +Opening his eyes, our hero looked around in a bewildered way, a wild, +strange roar of rushing water ringing in his ears. He saw about him a +little knot of anxious watchers, the nearest of them the forester, upon +his knees, bending over him. + +“Father, I thank thee, thou hast seen it well to spare him. Lad, speak, +and tell me that my ol’ eyes do not deceive me. Thy life has been +spared.” + +“I think I must be living, Woodranger,” replied Norman, “but it does +seem queer. Perhaps my mind is not clear yet. Where are Rilma and +grandfather?” + +“Safe, lad. At least the lassie is safe and well cared for. Your +grandfather did get a serious amazement. It may have been a chunk o’ +ice struck him, but he has been taken with the lassie to the home o’ +Mr. Stark.” + +“Where the boy must be taken without further delay,” said that +kind-hearted man. “Let me help you lift him on my sled, Woodranger.” + +Mr. Stark was the owner of a big hand-sled, which had been covered with +warm fur robes. Norman was placed upon the sled, and willing hands drew +him to the hospitable home, where the party was met by Mrs. Stark. + +He was then put on a comfortable bed, a warming-pan placed at his feet, +some herbs put as hot as he could bear to his head, and that was the +last he knew until morning. + +Norman awoke feeling very much improved, and under the motherly care +of Mrs. Stark he soon declared that he wanted to sit up. But that she +would not allow. + +“I promised Woodranger he should be called as soon as you awoke. He +seems as uneasy as a fish out of water. Here he comes now.” + + + + + CHAPTER XXXV. + + THE WOODRANGER’S SECRET. + + +As kind Mrs. Stark spoke, the Woodranger entered the apartment in his +swift, noiseless way, to pause just inside the skin door. + +“Forgive me――” + +“Come right this way, Woodranger,” said Norman, holding out a hand. “I +want to see you, and talk with you.” + +“So you shall, lad, so you shall. These ol’ eyes ne’er looked on a more +gladsome sight than to see you alive at this hour, and so well. But +ere I get my ol’ tongue to babbling like a runaway brook, there is the +leetle lassie, who is pining to come to you. Come, lassie!” + +Then, to Norman’s joy, Rilma came swiftly to his side, and they were +locked in each other’s arms. + +“I cried for you, brother, as I saw that awful flood rush over you. +I never expected to see you again alive. And I never should if brave +Woodranger had not plunged into the roaring water and saved you. +Norman, we all owe our lives to him. He is the bravest, noblest man in +the world.” + +“Amen, dear sister; he is all of that. Come here, dear Woodranger, and +let me thank you.” + +“Nay, lad, I cannot dissemble; it would be a blameful indiscretion. +While you chat with the lassie I will go out and ketch a whiff o’ fresh +air. That fire do burn up amazing stout,” and before any of them could +interpose he had left the house. + +“The strangest man I ever saw, as well as the best,” said Mrs. Stark. +“And he seems queerer than ever to-day. Why, as early as it is, he +has been to Goffe’s and back this morning. I can’t imagine what he is +doing. Acts as if he was looking for some one. But, excuse me, and I +will take myself out of the way, so you can talk.” + +“No――no, mother Stark; we don’t want you to go. But you have not told +me of grandfather, Rilma.” + +“He is better than you, I think, Norman, though he is more nervous and +excited than ever. Woodranger wouldn’t let me stay a great while with +him. He wants no one but Woodranger, not even Mr. Stark.” + +“I must go in and see him by and by. But the old home. Was the house +carried off by the river?” + +“Archie tells me it was not injured,” replied Mrs. Stark, “though the +water completely surrounded it, and had it risen another foot must +have undermined it. The river is falling away fast, and we do not think +there is any further danger. Here comes Woodranger back.” + +“Come in, Woodranger,” called out Norman. “Don’t run off like that +again.” + +“Mebbe I won’t, lad, mebbe I won’t again. We have much to be thankful +for, lad. I think the river is dropping away. I thought perhaps I could +cross this afternoon.” + +“You are not going away, Woodranger? We shall not let you.” + +“Here is the horn, lad,” said the Woodranger, abruptly, handing Norman +the MacDonald bugle which had come so near costing him his life. “I +found it tight gripped in your hand. For a wonder, your grandfather has +not inquired after it.” + +Norman took the bugle with an expression of thanks, saying he would +give it to his grandfather as soon as he could. Then, seeing that the +Woodranger appeared about to be leaving again, he said: + +“Aren’t you going to stay with me, Woodranger? You cannot be going +away?” + +“Not fur, lad. I cannot dissemble, but I s’pose I oughter go down to +Goffe’s. Mebbe when you get a leetle stronger, I shall have something +to say to you.” + +“Say it now, Woodranger. I shall――” + +“I durst not, lad, I durst not. Wait a leetle,” and with these words +he went out of the house, and a few minutes later disappeared down the +road. + +“I never saw him so uneasy,” said Mrs. Stark. + +Though Norman had not received any injuries which were likely to be +permanent, he soon found that it would be several days before he +should be able to leave the house. But the week that followed was not +unpleasant to him. Rilma was with him, the Stark boys came into his +room at their will, and twice Rob Rogers visited him. Of course he saw +considerable of the Woodranger, but not as much as he wished. + +The day before Christmas, in the afternoon, he was allowed to see his +grandfather, whom he had not seen since that night’s adventure. The +Woodranger and Rilma were with them. He was surprised to find him +looking so wan and feeble. But the old Highlander grasped his hand with +something of his usual vigour. + +“It does ma auld een guid tae gaze on thee again. Ye’ll soon be hame +again.” + +“And we shall be so glad, grandfather.” + +“Nay, lad, I shall ne’er return tae the auld hame. I hae had a +presentiment that my day be almos’ ower.” + +“What’s that, MacDonald?” asked the Woodranger. “Are you getting +childish again? I never knew a MacDonald to die o’ sich a leetle clip +as that which you say is going to kill you. You are no true――” + +“Zounds, sirrah!” cried the other, suddenly starting up. “I’m no’ deed +yet! Get me my cane, Norman, an’ let me whack him at my will. Ye’ may +ca’ me a fule, but ye ne’er shall say I’m ne’er a true MacDonald. My +faither, sirrah, was the Chiel o’ Glencoe!” + +“So much the worse for you, MacDonald. But I’m not here to stir an +amazement. It should be a day o’ peace. Quiet your heart, MacDonald. I +have enough to still my own. I’m sore perplexed to say what lies next +my heart. The trail o’ the red man is easy to follow, and the tracks +o’ the bear are picked up like beech-nuts arter a frost. But the whims +o’ the heart are spun finer than spider threads. I cannot see these to +pick ’em up!” + +Never had the others seen the Woodranger so excited, and they were +almost startled at his appearance. + +“What is it, Woodranger?” asked Norman. “Has the old house gone, after +all? We can soon build another, and better one.” + +“It is o’ Alick, my bonnie boy, he wishes to speak. Ye’re tae tell me +mair o’ Alick,” declared Mr. MacDonald. + +“Nay, nay! I cannot dissemble longer. Lad, _your father is coming +home_!” + +No five words that he could have spoken would have caused greater +surprise. In fact, the little group gazed on him in speechless wonder. +Norman was the first to break the silence: + +“What do you mean, Woodranger?” + +“Just what I said, lad. Your father is living――is even now on his way +here. He should have been here a week ago. I am sure he is now at +Goffe’s.” Norman was unable to make any reply, while such thoughts as +he had never known filled his mind. His first and most natural one was +the inquiry made of himself: “Is Woodranger mad? He has acted strangely +for a week, is it improbable that he has at last lost his reason?” Then +he continued, in a different train: “Can it be possible father is alive +and coming to me?” Trembling from head to foot, he caught the forester +by the arm, saying: + +“As you love me, Woodranger, tell me truly what you mean. Is father +living, after all? Is he coming here?” + +“I ne’er dissemble, lad. I――” + +“Forgive me, Woodranger; I did not mean to doubt you. I don’t know what +I did mean. But you can explain. Please do.” + +“It is I who should crave forgiveness, lad, for the deception I have +acted. But it was my foolish way to get round the truth. I have known +that Archie McNiel lived, and I have known the truth o’ his life these +years, but I did not know you were living here until last summer. Then +I sent at once to Archie to come with all speed possible, but, to make +your surprise complete, I said nothing to you. I hope you will all +forgive me. I haven’t prevaricated the great truth, because no one has +questioned me. I――” + +“Hold, man!” cried Mr. MacDonald, breaking into his speech, “d’ye dare +tell me that graceless McNiel――the murderer――” + +“Stop, MacDonald!” said the Woodranger, “this is no time for your +silliness. Archie McNiel comes with a name as pure as thine. Ah, far +more so, for the MacDonalds, with all their boasts o’ warlike deeds, +can show leetle else. You have told me in your confidential moments, +which I am free to confess is taking a man in his weakness, that you +would receive your Alick if he came under the shadow of the gallows. +He would have to come in that way if he came. Archie McNiel comes with +a heart as pure and spotless as this wee lassie. Here is the proof o’ +what I say, which I have carried long to give you.” + +As the Woodranger ceased speaking, he drew from under his hunting-frock +a parcel, carefully wrapped in deer skin. As he handed this to Mr. +MacDonald, he said: + +“I’m going once more to meet him. He’ll come to-night, I’m sure. +Meanwhile, watch and wait. I admonish thee, MacDonald, to receive him +with open arms. It is the last written request o’ thy son.” + +“Some one will go with you, Woodranger,” said Norman. “I am sure Mr. +Stark will be willing to do so.” + +“Nay, lad, I must go alone. He will not be overlong in coming. If I +fail to come back with him, yet I will see you all sometime.” + +He had reached the door. Then, as if prompted by a sudden impulse, he +retraced his steps, and swiftly kissed the three, Mr. MacDonald first, +then Norman, and last Rilma, whom he held closely in his arms for a +long minute. Putting her down then, he noiselessly left the room before +one of the three could call him back. + + + + + CHAPTER XXXVI. + + THE TURNING OF THE TIDE. + + +It would indeed be difficult to describe the conflicting emotions felt +by the little group, as the Woodranger went out of the house. Each felt +that the strange man had departed with no intention of returning――at +least for a considerable time. Mr. MacDonald was the only one to +speak, and he ordered, in his own peculiar way, that some one be sent +after him. In the excitement the paper was forgotten. It was not long +before Mr. Stark and his good wife entered the apartment, and they were +equally surprised over what had been said and done. + +In the midst of their questions, steps were heard without the dwelling. +Then, as Mr. Stark opened the door, a stranger advanced to enter. + +“I am Archie McNiel,” he said, “and I have been told that I――I should +find my long-lost son Norman here.” + +“Come in,” said Mr. Stark, simply, stepping aside as the other obeyed. + +Norman could remain silent no longer, and springing forward, he cried, +as the newcomer caught him in his outspread arms: + +“Father!” + +“My son――found at last!” + +During this affecting meeting the others in the room turned aside to +conceal their emotion, Mr. MacDonald alone watching the reunited twain +closely, while he showed that he was making a great effort to remain +calm. + +“I cannot realise this is indeed you, father,” said Norman, finally. + +“Nor I, that at last I hold you in my arms, my son. I had long since +given you up as dead. About two months ago I got word from one who +signed himself as ‘The Woodranger,’ to come at once――that you and +father were living here. I came with all possible haste. Father,” +turning to the old Highlander, “have you no welcome for me?” + +“I dinna ken. Ye’re――” and then he stopped. + +“Woodranger has told you all?” + +“He has telt me naething. Whaur is the man?” + +“He would not come back with me. I could not persuade him, as much as I +wanted to. His countenance seemed very familiar to me.” + +“I dinna read him.” + +“He gave you a paper which explains all? I know my name has been under +a cloud, but I have been innocent of all imputed to me. Read the +paper, sir, if you would know the truth.” + +With trembling hand, Mr. MacDonald unrolled the manuscript, worn and +soiled, and began to read. He had not progressed far, before he found +that it was a confession showing that Alick MacDonald, and not Archie +McNiel, was the guilty party, and that he had so skilfully covered his +course as to escape detection. When he had read so far, he stopped, +and, crumpling the paper in his hand, exclaimed: + +“I will not believe it!” and threw the paper into the fire. The flames +caught quickly upon it, and filling the wide-mouthed fireplace with its +fiery waves for a moment, the blaze died down, showing only a charred +cobweb of its remains. + +“It is better so,” said Archie McNiel. “There is nothing between +us now, Robert MacDonald. If I have caused you a pang, I ask to be +forgiven. Let the past be forgotten, and let us, on this Christmas eve, +clasp hands across the void of years.” + +“Amen,” said Archie Stark. “Peace on earth, good-will toward men.” + +“If that strange man had only stayed,” declared Mr. MacDonald, as he +allowed the arms of his son-in-law to encircle his neck. The reunion +was now complete. + +Mr. Stark’s invitation was so urgent for them to remain with him the +next day that the reunited family consented. The first settlers in +America gave little, if any, observation to Christmas, as a rule. The +English colonists ignored it altogether, believing it infested with too +much popery; but that was a day which those gathered at Mr. Stark’s +never forgot. In many respects it was the happiest they ever knew. + +The following day, Norman, his father, grandfather, and Rilma returned +to their home, which soon bore more than its old-time cheerfulness. In +fact, the tide had turned in the affairs of Tyng Township, and they +were benefited by it. + +It may have been due to his loss of favour from the burning of +Christo’s cabin, or from other reasons, but Gunwad did not offer to +trouble them any more. In fact, there was not much time for him to do +so, as the following May the boundary dispute, which had kept the two +provinces embroiled so long, was happily settled. Perhaps not happily +to all, for many were the losers, but it was settled for all time. By +that settlement, the brave men of the “Snow-shoe Expedition” under +Captain Tyng lost their claim to Tyng Township. The grant was now +within New Hampshire’s jurisdiction. It is true they were given another +township in the province of Maine, but it was so far away that some of +the men preferred to buy off the Presbyterians and remain. Some went +back to their former homes, and a few emigrated to the new grant, +where they found less to contend with. + +The meeting-house which had cost them so much money and anxiety was +soon after burned; and then the name of the town was changed, and the +last link connecting those trying years with the new existence was +broken. War with the Indians broke out afresh, during which no men +in New England did nobler or more effective work than those who went +from what was once derisively called Old Harrytown, and comprised the +Debatable Ground. + +It is scarcely necessary to detail the incidents of Archie McNiel’s +life after the unfortunate affair which separated himself from his +loved ones, and kept him in ignorance of their fates so long. In the +light of their new-found happiness the old wounds healed. He became one +of the most respected citizens of his adopted land. Norman became not +only that, but one of the most noted and helpful. History has depicted, +in varied language, the after-life of all our other characters, but the +historian aims at glittering generalities rather than the many little +personalities which are the sum and substance of all lives. I hope to +tell very many of these before I am done with the WOODRANGER TALES. + + + THE END. + + + + + Transcriber’s Notes: + + ――Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_). + + ――Obvious punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently + corrected. + + ――Archaic, variable, and dialectal spelling has been preserved. + + ――Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77515 *** diff --git a/77515-h/77515-h.htm b/77515-h/77515-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d84212b --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-h/77515-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10455 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + + <title> + The Woodranger | Project Gutenberg + </title> + + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + + <style> + +/* DACSoft styles */ + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +/* General headers */ +h1 { + text-align: center; 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+} + +.smfontr { + font-size: .75em; + text-align: right; +} + +/* Illustration caption */ +figcaption { + font-size: .75em; + font-weight: bold; +} + +/* Images */ +img { + max-width: 100%; /* no image to be wider than screen or containing div */ + height:auto; /* keep height in proportion to width */ +} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 90%; /* div no wider than screen, even when screen is narrow */ +} + +/* Footnotes and sidenotes */ +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .65em; + text-decoration: none; + white-space: nowrap; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poetry { + display: block; + text-align: left; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} + +.poetry .verse { + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {padding-left: 3em;} +.poetry .indent2 {padding-left: 4em;} +.poetry .indent4 {padding-left: 5em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.tnote { + background-color: #E6E6FA; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + padding: 0.5em; +} + +.tntitle { + font-size: 1.25em; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +/* Title page borders and content. */ +.title { + font-size: 1.75em; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.subtitle { + font-size: 1.5em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.halftitle { + font-size: 1.5em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.author { + font-size: 1.25em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +.works { + font-size: .75em; + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +/* Hanging indent. */ +.hang { + text-indent: -2em; + padding-left: 3em; +} + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77515 ***</div> + + +<figure class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop" id="cover_sm"> + <img class="x-ebookmaker-drop" src="images/cover_sm.jpg" alt="book cover" title="book cover"> +</figure> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="noi halftitle">THE WOODRANGER</p> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_frontispiece"> + <img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt="" title=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_75">“‘I’M UNDER OATH.’”</a></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1 class="nobreak">THE WOODRANGER</h1> + +<p class="noi smcap subtitle">A Story of the Pioneers of the Debatable +Grounds</p> + +<p class="p2 noic">BY</p> + +<p class="noi author">G. WALDO BROWNE</p> + +<p class="noi works">AUTHOR OF<br> +“TWO AMERICAN BOYS IN +HAWAII,” ETC.</p> + +<p class="p2 noic oldenglish">Illustrated by</p> + +<p class="noi author">L. J. BRIDGMAN</p> + +<p class="p4 noic">NEW YORK<br> +A. WESSELS COMPANY<br> +1907</p> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="noic"><i>Copyright, 1899</i></p> + +<p class="noic smcap">By L. C. Page and Company</p> + +<p class="noi works">(Incorporated)</p> + +<p class="noic"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="noic">TO</p> + +<p class="noi author oldenglish">Norman Stanley Browne</p> + +<p class="noic">MY MERRY LITTLE SON<br> +HOPING IT WILL INTEREST AND INSTRUCT HIM<br> +THIS VOLUME IS MOST AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED</p> +</div> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2> +</div> + + +<table> +<colgroup> + <col style="width: 20%;"> + <col style="width: 70%;"> + <col style="width: 10%;"> +</colgroup> +<tr> + <th class="pr smfontr">CHAPTER</th> + <th class="tdl"></th> + <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt"> </td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#INTRODUCTION">Introduction</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">7</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">I.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">The Deer’s Leap</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">11</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">II.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">The Woodranger and the Deer Reeve</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">16</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">III.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Norman Meets His Enemy</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">23</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">A Perilous Predicament</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">30</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">V.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Johnny Stark</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">43</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Man Who Knew It All</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">53</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Norman’s Trial</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">63</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">End of the Trial</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">75</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">IX.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">The Shooting-match</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">84</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">X.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">An Alarm</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">97</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">A Fiery Girdle</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">103</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Bad News at Home</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">112</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Honour of the McNiels</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">119</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">Norman Works in a Stump-field</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">126</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">Hanging a Bear</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">139</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">Gunwad Takes Decisive Action</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">149</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">The Canoe Match</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">163</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">The Fall Hunt</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">180</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIX.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">Deer Neck</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">188</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XX.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">The Cry for Help</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">196</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXI.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span></td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">A Peculiar Predicament</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">202</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">The Gun-shot</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">209</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">The Forest Tragedy</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">215</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">Bear’s Claws—The Turkey Train</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">221</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">The Place of the Big Buck</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">229</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">Around the Camp-fire</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">234</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">“Creeping” the Moose</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">242</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">The Battle of the Monarchs</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">250</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIX.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">Test Shots—The Snow-storm</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">255</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXX.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">The Burning of Christo’s Wigwam</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">262</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">The Woodranger Surprises Mr. MacDonald</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">270</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">Zack Bitlock’s Deer</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">278</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIII.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">Raising the Meeting-house</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">286</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">The Freshet</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">294</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXV.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">The Woodranger’s Secret</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">300</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXVI.</td> + <td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">The Turning of the Tide</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">308</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> +</div> + + +<table> +<colgroup> + <col style="width: 90%;"> + <col style="width: 10%;"> +</colgroup> +<tr> + <th class="smfontr"> </th> + <th class="smfontr">PAGE</th> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl hang smcap"><a href="#i_frontispiece">“‘I’m Under Oath’”</a></td> + <td class="tdrb"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl hang smcap"><a href="#i_fp014">“The Deer Sprang Out over the Dizzy Brink”</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">15</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl hang smcap"><a href="#i_fp144">“Archie Improved His Opportunity to Drop +the Noose over Her Head”</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">144</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="tdl hang smcap"><a href="#i_fp278">“His Right Arm Moved Slowly To and Fro”</a></td> + <td class="tdrb">278</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span></p> + + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="INTRODUCTION"> + INTRODUCTION. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>In order to understand the scenes about to be +described, it is necessary to take a hasty glance at +the general situation in 1740 of the colonists in the +vicinity of the Merrimack River. It should be borne +in mind that New England was only a narrow strip +of country along the seacoast, and was divided into +four provinces,—Rhode Island, Connecticut, Massachusetts, +and New Hampshire.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for the welfare of the pioneers in +the last-named province, the boundary line between +New Hampshire and Massachusetts was a matter +of dispute for nearly a hundred years. The difference +had arisen from a misconception at the outset +in regard to the source of the Merrimack River, +which was believed by its early discoverers and +explorers to rise in the west and follow an easterly +course to the ocean. Accordingly, the province of +Massachusetts claimed not only all of the land to +the southwest of the other province, but a strip +three miles wide along the east bank of the stream +to its supposed source in the great lake (Winnepesaukee), +including not only the debatable +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>ground of Namaske, but a tract of country to its +south and east, called the “Chestnut Country,” on +account of the large number of those trees growing +there.</p> + +<p>In 1719 a part of this territory was settled by a +party of colonists from the north of Ireland, known +as Scotch-Irish, from their having previously emigrated +to that country from Scotland. These settlers, +who called their new town first Nutfield and then +Londonderry, in honour of the county from whence +they had come, supposed that the deeds and grants +which they had received from the province of New +Hampshire would allow them to hold the debatable +ground. They were upright, courageous men and +women, but were rigid Presbyterians, and for this +reason met with little favour from their equally +austere Puritan neighbours from Massachusetts.</p> + +<p>In order to colonise the disputed territory, Massachusetts +at about this time began a system of granting +lands as a reward for meritorious service in +fighting the Indians, and among others was a grant +to the survivors of the famous “Snow Shoe Expedition” +of the tract of land below Namaske Falls, +which had gained the disreputable name of Old +Harrytown. The leader of the expedition, Captain +Tyng, was dead, but in honour of him the new town +was named Tyng Township.</p> + +<p>In one respect the settlers of Tyng Township were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>fortunate. They arrived during one of those transitory +intervals of comparative peace, which came and +went during the long and sanguinary struggle with +the Indians like flashes of sunlight on a stormy +day. In 1725, following several victories of the +whites over their savage enemies, foremost of which +was Lovewell’s fight, the chief of the Abnaki Indians, +then the leading tribe in New England, signed a +treaty of peace at Boston. This treaty was not +broken until 1744, and the whole history of Tyng +Township is included within these two dates.</p> + +<p>As stated above, some of the Scotch-Irish, under +grants from New Hampshire, had already settled in +the territory granted by Massachusetts to Tyng’s +men, and an intense rivalry at once sprang up between +the settlements. The English were determined +and aggressive, the Scotch stubborn and +ready to fight to the bitter end for what they considered +their rights, and before long both sides were +ready to resort to arms the moment an overt act of +their rivals should seem to call for such measures.</p> + +<p class="right"> + <span class="smcap">G. Waldo Browne.</span> +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span></p> + +<p class="noi title">THE WOODRANGER.</p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I"> + CHAPTER I. + <br> + <small>THE DEER’S LEAP.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>As the distant baying of a hound broke like a discordant +note upon the quiet of the summer afternoon, +a youth sprang upright on the pinnacle of a cliff +which reared its bald head above the surrounding +forest, and listened for a repetition of the unexpected +alarm.</p> + +<p>The young listener presented a striking figure, +the strong physique of limb and body brought into +bold relief against the sky, and each feature clearly +outlined, as he gazed into space. He was in his +nineteenth year, above the medium height, but so +symmetrical in form that he did not look out of +proportion. His high cheek-bones, clear blue eyes, +straight nose, well-curved chin, and firm-set mouth +showed the characteristics of the Lowland sons of +old Scotland. His name was Norman McNiel.</p> + +<p>For nearly an hour he had lain there on the summit +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>of Rock Rimmon, gazing in a dreamy way over +the broad panorama of wilderness, while his mind +carried him back across the stormy sea to his early +home in Northern Ireland, which he had left a +year before to come to this country with his young +foster-sister Rilma and their aged grandfather, Robert +MacDonald, last of the noted MacDonalds of +Glencoe.</p> + +<p>“It was Archer’s bark!” he exclaimed. “He +must have followed me, and now has started a deer +from its favourite haunt in Cedar Swamp. Hark! +there he sounds his warning again, and never bugle +of bold clansman rang clearer over the braes o’ +bonny Scotland. He is coming this way! Forsooth! +A bonny hunter am I with not a grain of +powder in my horn, and the last bullet sent on a +fruitless errand after a wild bird. A pretty kettle of +fish is this for a McNiel!”</p> + +<p>Another cry from the hound at that moment, +clearer, louder, nearer, held his entire attention, and +sent the warm blood tingling through his veins. +Far and wide over the valley rang the deep bass +baying of the hound, the wooded hills on either side +catching up the wild sound, and flinging it back and +forth, until it seemed as if a dozen dogs were on +the heels of some poor hunted victim.</p> + +<p>The chase continued to draw swiftly nearer and +nearer. As if the race had become too earnest for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>it to keep up its running outcries, only an occasional +short, sharp cry came from the hound. Soon this +too ceased, and Norman was beginning to fear the +chase was taking another course, when the sharp +report of a firearm awoke the silence.</p> + +<p>A howl from the hound quickly followed, while +this was succeeded by a more pitiful cry, and the +furious crashing of bodies plunging headlong through +the thick undergrowth.</p> + +<p>Immediately succeeding the renewed baying of the +hound, Norman became aware of the sound of some +one pushing his way rapidly through the growth off +to his right, and at an acute angle to the course +being taken by the deer. The next moment he was +surprised to see a human figure burst into the opening +at the lower end of the cliff, apparently making +for the summit of Rock Rimmon. His surprise was +heightened by a second discovery swiftly following +the first. The newcomer was an Indian, carrying +in his hand the gun with which he had shot at the +deer.</p> + +<p>Seeing Norman, instead of approaching any nearer +the cliff, the red man abruptly changed his course, +disappearing the next moment in the forest with the +Indian’s peculiar loping gait.</p> + +<p>“Christo, the last of the Pennacooks!” exclaimed +Norman. “It was he who fired the shot. I—”</p> + +<p>He was cut short in the midst of his speculation +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>by the sudden appearance of the hunted deer on the +opposite side of the clearing.</p> + +<p>Though Rock Rimmon has a sheer descent of +nearly a hundred feet on the south, its ascent is so +gradual on the north as to make it an easy feat to +reach its top. A growth of stunted pitch-pines +grew to within fifty yards of Norman’s standing +place. The ledge was covered with moss in spots, +while here and there a scrubby oak found a precarious +living.</p> + +<p>Although expecting to get a sight of the deer, as +he imagined the fugitive to be, Norman was still +considerably surprised to see the hunted creature +bound out from the matted pines, and leap straight +up the rocky pathway! Close upon its heels followed +the hound, no longer keeping up its resonant +baying.</p> + +<p>The fugitive deer seemed to have a purpose in +pursuing this narrow course, as it might have turned +slightly to the right or left, and escaped its inevitable +fate on the cliff. The large, lustrous eyes, glancing +wildly around, saw nothing clearly. The blood was +flowing freely from its panting sides, and it was evident +its strength was nearly spent. To Norman, who +had seen but a few of its kind, there was a human +expression in the soft light of its great, mournful +eye, and intuitively he shrank back, as he saw the +doomed creature approaching.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span></p> + +<p>In its fatal alarm the terrified animal had not seen +him. In fact it seemed to see nothing in its pathway,—not +even the precipice cutting off further +retreat. As if preferring death by a mad leap over +the chasm, it sped to the very brink without checking +the speed of its flying feet! Norman held his +breath with a feeling of horror at the inevitable fate +of the poor creature. The hound, as if realising the +desperate strait to which it had driven its prey, +stopped. Then, with a last mournful glance backward, +and a sharp cry of pain and despair, <a href="#i_fp014">the deer +sprang out over the dizzy brink</a>, its beautiful form +sinking swiftly upon the stony earth at the foot of +Rock Rimmon!</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp014"> + <img src="images/i_fp014.jpg" alt="" title=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_15">“THE DEER SPRANG OUT OVER THE DIZZY BRINK.”</a></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II"> + CHAPTER II. + <br> + <small>THE WOODRANGER AND THE DEER REEVE.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>So sudden and strange was the leap to death of +the hunted deer, that Norman McNiel stood for a +moment stupefied by a sense of horror at the strange +sight. The hound, a magnificent animal, as if sharing +its master’s feeling with an added shame for the +part it had taken in the matter, crept to his side, +and sank silently upon the rock at his feet.</p> + +<p>“He escaped you, Archer,” said the young master, +patting the dog on its head, “and me, too, for +that matter. But I cannot see that either was to +blame. The poor creature met his fate bravely.”</p> + +<p>Then, to satisfy himself that the deer was really +killed, he approached to the extremity of the cliff, +and peered into the depths below. He discovered, +at his first glance, the mutilated form of the creature. +There could be no doubt of its death. The sound +of footsteps at that instant arrested his attention. +Looking from the shapeless body of the deer, he +saw two men pushing their way through the dense +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>growth skirting the bit of clearing at the foot of +the ledge.</p> + +<p>The foremost of the newcomers was an entire +stranger to him, though he guessed that he belonged +to the Tyng colonists, who had settled below the +falls. He wore a suit of clothes made from the +coarse homespun cloth so common among the Massachusetts +men, and his firearm was of the English +pattern usually carried by them. He was not much, +if any, over thirty years of age, with a countenance +robbed of its slight share of good looks by a stubble +of reddish beard.</p> + +<p>His companion, whom Norman remembered as +having seen once or twice the previous season, was +several years the senior of the other, and of altogether +different appearance. He was clad in a well-worn +suit of buckskin, the frills on the leggins badly +frayed from long contact with the briars and brushwood +of the forest. His feet were encased in a pair +of Indian moccasins, while he wore on his head a +cap of fox skin, with the tail of the animal hanging +down to the back of his neck. Though bronzed +by long exposure to the summer sun and winter +wind, scarred by wounds, and rendered shaggy by its +untrimmed beard, his face bore that stamp of frank, +honest simplicity which was sure to win for the +man the respect and confidence of those he met. +The silver streaks in the hair falling in profusion +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>about his neck told that he was passing the prime +of life. Still there was great strength in the long, +muscular limbs, and, while he moved generally with +a slow, shuffling gait, he was capable of astonishing +swiftness of movement whenever it was called for.</p> + +<p>He showed his natural instinct as a woodsman by +the noiseless way in which he emerged from the +forest, in marked contrast to the slouching steps of +his companion. Stuck in his belt could be seen the +handle of a serviceable knife, while he carried a +heavy, long-barrelled rifle of a pattern unknown in +this vicinity at that time. The weapon showed that +it had seen long and hard service.</p> + +<p>Norman was about to speak to him, when the +other exclaimed, in the tone of one announcing an +important discovery:</p> + +<p>“Look there, Woodranger! if you want to believe +me. It’s the critter that got the shot we heerd, and +it’s a deer as I told ye. A shot out o’ season, too, +mind ye, Woodranger. Ef I could clap my eyes on +the fool he’d walk to Chelmsford with me to-morrer, +or I ain’t deer reeve o’ this grant o’ Tyng Township, +honourably and discreetly ’p’inted by the Gineral +Court o’ the Province o’ Massachusetts.”</p> + +<p>“It seems to me, Gunwad,” said his companion, +speaking in a more deliberate tone, as he advanced +to the deer’s mutilated form, “that the creetur must +have taken a powerful tumble over the rock hyur. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>I reckon a jump off’n Rock Rimmon would be nigh +’bout enough to stop the breath o’ most any deer.”</p> + +<p>“What made the deer jump off’n the rock, Woodranger? +It was thet air dog at its heels! And ef +there ain’t a hunk o’ lead in the critter big ernough +to send the man thet fired it to Chelmsford I’ll eat +the carcass, hoofs, horns, and, hide.”</p> + +<p>With these words he bent over the still warm +body of the deer, and began a diligent search for +some sign of the wound supposed to have been made +by the shot.</p> + +<p>Woodranger dropped the butt of his rifle upon the +ground, and stood leaning on its muzzle, while he +watched with curious interest the proceeding of his +companion.</p> + +<p>Gunwad’s search was not made in vain, for a minute +later he held up between the thumb and forefinger +of his left hand, which was reeking with blood +from its contact with the dead deer, the bullet he +had hoped to find.</p> + +<p>“What do you think of it now?” he demanded, +showing by his tone and manner that he was highly +pleased with his discovery. “What do ye call +thet?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it would require no great knowledge +o’ warfare to pronounce it a bullet,—leastways a +pellet o’ lead fit for the weepon o’ a red. It was +never the bullet o’ a white man’s gun. But that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>does not enter into the question. That bullet was +not the death o’ this deer.”</p> + +<p>“You’re talking at random now. Mebbe it didn’t +kill the deer, but ef the dog hadn’t driven the critter +over the rock, thet lead would hev fixed it for +salting.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not so sure o’ that, friend Gunwad. If +you’ll look a leetle cluser you’ll see that the bullet +didn’t touch any vital. It sort o’ slewed up’ards and +side—”</p> + +<p>“Much has thet got to do erbout it!” broke in +Gunwad, beginning to show anger. “I shall begin to +think ye air consarned in the matter. Fust ye say +it wasn’t the bullit o’ a white man, and I should like +to know what cause ye hev for saying thet.”</p> + +<p>“It was never run by any mould,” replied Woodranger, +calmly, as he took the bullet in his hand; “it +was hammered out.”</p> + +<p>“Say!” exclaimed Gunwad, suddenly changing +the drift of the conversation, “Ye’re a sharp one, +Woodranger. They say ye’re the best guide and +Injun trailer in the two provinces. Help me fasten +this bizness on that Injun at the Falls, and I’ll gin ye +the best pair o’ beaver skins ye ever sot eyes on for +years.”</p> + +<p>“You mean Christo,” said the other.</p> + +<p>“I reckon he’s the only red left in these parts, +and ’arly riddance to him! Jess show thet is an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>Injun bullit, and I’ve settled his ’count, sure’s one +and one make two.”</p> + +<p>“That savours too much o’ wanton killing, Gunwad. +I ain’t no special grudge ag’in this Christo, +though it may be I have leetle fellowship for the +race. There be honest men, for all I can say, among +the dusky-skins, and Christo may be one o’ ’em. At +any rate till I ketch him in red devilryment I’m not +going to condemn him. Ah, Gunwad, I ’low I live +by the chase, and if I do say it, who has no designment +to boast o’ the simple knack o’ drawing bead +on wildcat or painter, bear or stag, Old Danger +never barks at the same creetur but once; but he +never spits fire in the face o’ any creetur that can’t +do more good by dying than living.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, Woodranger!” exclaimed Gunwad, +impatiently, “I can see through yer logic. Ye air +ag’in this law o’ protecting deer.”</p> + +<p>“I’m ag’in the law that’s ag’in man. ’Tain’t natur +to fill the woods with game, and then blaze the trees +with notices not to tech a creetur. Mind you, I’m +ag’in wanton killing, and him don’t live as can say I +ever drew bead on a deer out o’ pure malice. I have +noticed that it’s the same chaps as makes these laws +as are the ones to resort to wanton destruction. To +kill jess for the fun o’ killing is wanton. It is the +great law o’ natur for one kind to war on another, +the strong on the weak, from the biggest brute to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>the smallest worm, and man wars on ’em all. If he +must do so, let there be as much fairness as is consistent +with human natur. No, I’m not a liker o’ +the law that professes to defend the helpless, but +does it so the wanton slayer can get his glut o’ +slaughter in a fall’s hunt. I—”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger might have continued his rude +philosophy much longer had not a movement of the +hound on the cliff attracted their attention, and both +men glanced upward to see, with surprise, Norman +McNiel looking quietly down upon them.</p> + +<p>“Hilloa!” exclaimed Gunwad, divining the situation +at once, “here is the deer slayer, or I’m a fool. +Stand where ye air, youngster!” raising his gun to +his shoulder, as he spoke.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III"> + CHAPTER III. + <br> + <small>NORMAN MEETS HIS ENEMY.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>“Don’t make any wanton move,” warned Woodranger. +“If I’m not mistaken the younker is one o’ +the Scotch settlers on the river, and he’s a likely lad, +or I’m no jedge o’ human natur’.”</p> + +<p>“I jess want him to know he ain’t going to play +Injun with me,” replied Gunwad. Then, speaking +in a louder key to Norman, he said:</p> + +<p>“Climb down hyur, youngster, and see thet ye air +spry erbout it, for I don’t think o’ spending the +night in these woods.”</p> + +<p>“I will be with you in a moment,” said Norman, +starting toward the west end of the cliff, where he +could descend with comparative ease. He had overheard +enough to understand that Gunwad would +prove no friend to him, though he did not realise the +deer reeve’s full intent.</p> + +<p>“One o’ ’em condemned furriners!” muttered Gunwad. +“I’d as soon snap him up as thet copper-skin. +Hi, there, youngster! be keerful how ye handle thet +shooting-iron,” as Norman inadvertently lifted the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>weapon toward his shoulder in trying to avoid a +bush.</p> + +<p>“You have nothing to fear, as it isn’t loaded. +I—”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t loaded, eh?” demanded the deer reeve. +“Let me take it.”</p> + +<p>Norman handed him the firearm, as requested, +and then turned to look at Woodranger, who was +watching the scene in silence, with a look in his blue +eyes that it was difficult to read.</p> + +<p>“I reckon I’ve got all the evidence I shall need,” +said Gunwad, after hastily examining the gun. +“You’ll need to go with me to Chelmsford, youngster, +to answer the grave charge of shooting deer +out o’ season. It’ll only cost ye ten pounds, +or forty days’ work for the province. Better have +waited ernother day afore ye took yer leetle hunt!”</p> + +<p>“I have shot no deer, sir,” replied Norman. +“Neither have I hunted deer.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t make yer case enny wuss by trying to lie +out o’ it. The circumstances air all ag’in ye. Air +ye coming erlong quiet like, or shall I hev to call on +Woodranger to help me?”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going to take me?” asked +Norman, feeling his first real alarm. “Grandfather +will be worried about me if I go away without telling +him—”</p> + +<p>“Old man will be worrited, eh? O’ all the oxcuses +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>to git out’n a bad fix thet’s the tarnalest. +D’ye hear thet, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>Nettled by the words, Norman showed some of +the spirit of the McNiels, exclaiming sharply:</p> + +<p>“Sir, I have hunted no deer, shot no deer, and +there is no reason why you should make me prisoner. +I have transgressed no law, as far as I know.”</p> + +<p>“Ignerance is no excuse for breaking a law, +youngster. The facts air all ag’in ye. Ain’t this +yer dog? and weren’t he chasing thet deer?”</p> + +<p>“He was chasing the deer, but surely you do not +blame the hound for doing what his natural instinct +told him to do? To him all seasons are as one, and +the laws of man unknown.”</p> + +<p>“A good p’int, lad,” said Woodranger, speaking +for the first time since Norman had reached the foot +of the cliff.</p> + +<p>“But it does not clear yer frills from the law +made by honourable law-makers and sanctioned by +good King George,” retorted Gunwad, angrily. +“Ye ’low yer dog was chasing the deer?”</p> + +<p>“I have not said he was my dog, sir. He came +to my house about a week ago and would stay with +us. I—”</p> + +<p>“’Mounts to the same as if he wus yers. I s’pose +ye deny this is yer gun and thet it’s as empty as a +last year’s nutshell?”</p> + +<p>“The gun is mine, sir, and it is empty because I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>wasted my ammunition on a hawk an hour since. I +had no more powder with me.”</p> + +<p>“A story jess erbout in keeping with the other. +Afore ye take up lying fer a bizness I should ’vise +ye to do a leetle practising. But I hev got evidence +ernough, so kem erlong without enny more palaver.”</p> + +<p>Norman saw that it would be useless to remonstrate +with the obstinate deer reeve, and he began to +realise that he might have serious trouble with him +before he could convince him and his friends of his +innocence. Accordingly he hesitated before he +said:</p> + +<p>“I am innocent of this charge, sir, but if you will +allow me to go home and tell sister and grandfather—”</p> + +<p>“Go home!” again broke in Gunwad, who had +no respect for another’s feelings. “If thet ain’t the +coolest thing I ever heerd of. I s’pose ye think I’m +innercent ernough to let ye take yer own way o’ +going to Chelmsford to answer to the grave charge +o’ shooting deer out o’ season. Did ye ever +see the match o’ thet consarned audacity, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>“It seems ag’in reason for me to think the lad +means to play you double, Gunwad,” said the Woodranger, +deliberately. “It seems too bad to put the +lad to this inconvanience. I ’low, down ’mong ’em +strangers it’ll be a purty sharp amazement for him +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>to prove his innercence, but the lad’s tongue tells a +purty straight story. I disbelieve he was consarned +in the killing o’ the deer.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ho! so thet’s the way the stick floats with +ye, Woodranger? Mebbe ye know crossways, but +Captain Blanchard has the name o’ being square and +erbove board in his dealings. Ye can go down ef ye +wanter, jess to show thet the deer jumped off’n the +rock o’ its own free will. Ha, ha! thet’s a kink fer +ye to straighten.”</p> + +<p>“It would be easier done ’cording to my string o’ +knots, than to fairly prove the lad was to blame for +its killing. I’ve heerd o’ deer jumping off’n sich +places out o’ a pure wish to end their days. Up +north, some years sence, I see, myself, an old sick +buck march plumb down and sort o’ throw hisself +over a cliff o’ rock, where the leetle life left in him was +knocked flat. I was laying in ambushment for him, +but seeing the creetur’s intentions I jess waited to +see what he would do. As I have said afore, I do +not believe in wanton killing, and deer, ’cording to +my mind, is next to the human family. This air +rock has peculiar ’tractions for the low-spirited, and +ther’ are them as say the ghost o’ poor Rimmon +haunts the place, and it ain’t so onreasonable in the +light o’ some other things.”</p> + +<p>Woodranger’s speech had reference to the legend +current among the Indians that a daughter of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>mighty chief of the North, Chicorua, once fell in +love with a Pennacook brave; but her dusky lover +proved recreant to Rimmon, as the maiden was +called, and she, unable to credit the stories told of +her betrothed, sought this locality by stealth to learn +if reports were true concerning him. Alas for her +hopes! she was soon only too well satisfied of their +truthfulness, and, rather than return to her home, +in her grief and disappointment, she courted death +by leaping from this high rock. Hence the name +Rock Rimmon.</p> + +<p>“How long has it been sence the Indian killer +turned philosopher and begun to preach?” demanded +Gunwad, whose coarse nature failed to appreciate +the sentiments of his companion.</p> + +<p>“Let’s see,” said Woodranger, ignoring the other’s +sneering words, “the law ag’in killing deer will be +off afore you get the lad tried. If I remember right +it was to last from the first day o’ January to the +first day o’ August, and it being now nigh about six +o’clock on the last day o’ July, there are only six +hours or so left—”</p> + +<p>“What difference does thet make?” cried Gunwad, +with increasing anger. “Ef ye keep me hyur +till to-morrow morning it’ll be the same. But I ain’t +trying the youngster. Ef he’ll kem erlong Squire +Blanchard will settle his ’count.”</p> + +<p>“And give you half the fine, I s’pose,” continued +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>the imperturbable Woodranger, with his accustomed +moderation.</p> + +<p>“I shall ’arn it!” snapped the other. “But it’s +ye making me more trubble than he, Woodranger.”</p> + +<p>“I have a plan by which I may be able to more +than even things with you, Gunwad, as bad as I have +been. What time will you start for Chelmsford in +the morning?”</p> + +<p>“An hour erfore sunup.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you think o’ taking the lad to-night?”</p> + +<p>“Down to Shepley’s.”</p> + +<p>“He’s away, and the women folks might object to +having a deer slayer in the house.”</p> + +<p>“I shall stay with him.”</p> + +<p>“They might object to you, too! But that ain’t +neither here nor there. I reckon the lad’s folks are +going to be greatly consarned over his disappearance, +so I have been thinking it would be better to let him +go home now.”</p> + +<p>Gunwad was about to utter an angry speech, when +the three were startled by the ringing note of a bugle +sounding sharply on the still afternoon air. The +first peal had barely died away before it was followed +by two others in rapid succession, louder, +clearer, and more prolonged each time.</p> + +<p>“It’s grandfather!” exclaimed Norman, excitedly. +“There is something wrong at home.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV"> + CHAPTER IV. + <br> + <small>A PERILOUS PREDICAMENT.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>“If I should agree to answer for the lad’s being +on hand to-morrow morning an hour afore sunup, +would you let him go home till then?” asked Woodranger, +the calmest one of the three, continuing the +subject in his mind as if no interruption had occurred.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, Gunwad had been puzzling +himself over the best method to adopt in order to +keep his prisoner safely until he could deliver him +over to the proper authorities. Of a cowardly, +treacherous nature, he naturally had little confidence +in others. He believed the youthful captive to be +a dangerous person, knowing well the valour of the +McNiels, though he would not have acknowledged +to any one that he feared him. Woodranger’s proposition +offered a way out of his dilemma without +compromising himself, in case it should fail. Accordingly +he asked, with an eagerness the woodsman +did not fail to observe:</p> + +<p>“Would ye dare take the risk, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span></p> + +<p>“In season and out I have a knack o’ following +my words like a deerhound on the track o’ a stag.”</p> + +<p>“I know it, Woodranger, so I hope ye won’t +harbour enny feeling fer my question. Ef ye say +ye’ll hev the youngster on hand at Shepley’s at +sunrise, I shall let him be in yer hands. But, mind +ye, I shall look to ye fer my divvy in the reward if +he’s not on hand.”</p> + +<p>“I will walk along with you, lad,” said the Woodranger, +without replying to Gunwad, who remained +watching them as they started away, muttering +under his breath:</p> + +<p>“I s’pose it’s risky to let the youngster off in his +care. Twenty-four dollars ain’t to be picked up in +these sand-banks every day, and I’m sure of it if +I get the leetle fool to Chelmsford. It’s a pity to +let sich a good fat deer go to waste, and I’ve a mind +to help myself to as much meat as I can carry off. +It’s no harm, seeing the killing is done, and I had +no hand in it.”</p> + +<p>Glancing back as they were losing sight of Rock +Rimmon, the Woodranger saw the deer reeve carrying +out his intention, and laughed in his silent way.</p> + +<p>Norman was not only willing but glad to have the +company of the woodsman, whose fame he had heard +so often mentioned by the settlers. As soon as they +were beyond the hearing of Gunwad, he thanked his +companion for his kindly intervention.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span></p> + +<p>“I have nary desire for you to mention it, lad. +But if you don’t mind, you may tell me what you +can of this deer killing. It may be only a concait o’ +mine, but my sarvices may be desirable afore you +get out’n this affair. In that case it might be well +for me to know the full particulars.”</p> + +<p>“You are very kind, Mr.—Mr.—”</p> + +<p>“You may call me Woodranger, as the rest do. +Time may have been when I had another name, +but this one suits me best now. If you have been +in these parts very long, you may have heard +of me, though I trust not through any malicious +person. I ’low none o’ us are above having enemies. +But I can see that you are anxious to get home, so +tell me in a few words all you can about the deer.”</p> + +<p>“There is really little to tell, Mr. Woodranger. +I was lying on the top of Rock Rimmon when I +heard Archer bark, and I felt sure he had started +a deer near Cedar Swamp. Soon after, I heard some +one fire a gun. A moment later I saw Christo, the +friendly Indian, coming toward the cliff, but at sight +of me he turned and went the other way.”</p> + +<p>“So it was, as I thought, Christo who shot the +deer. I’m sorry for that. The poor fellow has +enough to answer for to pacify those who are determined +to persecute him, simply because he is +a red man. As if it was not enough to see the last +foot o’ territory belonging to his race stripped from +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>his tribe, and the last o’ his people driven off like +leaves before an autumn wind.”</p> + +<p>This speech, coming from one whom he had heard +of as an Indian fighter, seemed so strange to Norman +that he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“So you are a friend to the Indians! I supposed +you hated them.”</p> + +<p>“We are all God’s critters, lad, and I hate not +even the lowest. Though it has been my fortune to +be pitted ag’inst the dusky varmints in some clus +quarters, I never drew bead on an Injun with a +wanton thought. Mebbe on sich ’casions as Lovewell’s +fight, where the blood of white and red ran +ankle deep, and that Injun fiend, bold Paugus— +Hark! there’s the horn ag’in! Your kin must be +anxious about you. Ha! how the old bugle awakes +old-time memories. But don’t let me hinder you. I +will meet you by the river to-morrer morning at sunrise, +when we can start for Chelmsford. By the +way, I wish you wouldn’t say anything about Christo +until I think it best.”</p> + +<p>Without further loss of time, Norman darted away +from the Woodranger in a course which soon brought +him in sight of the river.</p> + +<p>On the opposite bank of the stream the young +refugee discovered his grandfather, still holding to +his lips the horn which was awakening the wild-wood +with its clear notes, as in years long since past it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>had rung over the hills and vales of his native land. +At sight of Norman the aged bugler quickly removed +his beloved instrument from his bearded lips, and +while the echoes of the horn died slowly away he +watched the approach of his grandson, who had +pulled a canoe out from a bunch of bushes on the +river bank and began his laborious trip across the +rapid stream.</p> + +<p>In the years of his vigorous manhood Robert +MacDonald must have been a typical Highlander of +Bonnie Scotland. As he stood there on the bank +of the river, in the shifting light of the setting sun, +his thin, whitened locks tossed in the gentle breeze, +and his spare form half supported by a stout staff, +he looked like one of the patriarchs of old appearing +in the midst of that wild-wood scene. If the passage +of time had left deep tracks across a brow once lofty +and white as snow, if the lines about the mouth had +deepened into wrinkles and the loss of teeth allowed +an unpleasant compression of the lips, his clear blue +eyes had lost little if any of their old-time lustre. +His face kindled with a new fire, as he watched the +approach of Norman.</p> + +<p>“He’s a noble laddie, every inch o’ him!” he +mused, falling deeper into his native dialect as he +continued: “Weel, alack an’ a day, why should +he no be a bonnie laddie wi’ the bluid o’ the MacDonalds +an’ McNiels coorsin’ thro’ his veins. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>Shame upon the ane wha wud bring dishonour tae +sic a fair name. He has nane o’ his faither’s weakness. +He’s MacDonald, wi’ the best o’ the McNiel +only. Hoo handy he is wi’ the skim-shell o’ a craft +that looks ower licht tae waft a feather ower the +brawlin’ burn.”</p> + +<p>“What can be the matter, grandfather, that you +are so excited?” asked Norman, as he ran the canoe +upon the sandy bank and leaped out.</p> + +<p>“It’s the wee lassie. She left me awhile since +tae look for the geese, an’ she hasna cum back. +She’s been awa a lang time.”</p> + +<p>“I would not worry, grandfather. You know the +geese have an inclination to get back to their kind +at old Archie’s. But I will lose no time in going to +help Rilma fetch them home.”</p> + +<p>“Dae sae, my braw laddie, for I’m awfu’ shilly +the day. I canna tell thee it was a catamount’s cry, +but it did hae the soond tae my auld ear. But dinna +credit ower muckle an auld man’s ears, which dinna +hear sae clear as on the day the redcoats mowed +doon the auld clan at Glencoe.”</p> + +<p>At the mention of the word “catamount” Norman +felt a sudden fear. He knew that a pair of the dreaded +creatures had been seen in the vicinity several times +of late, and that the presence of the geese would be +likely to call them from their skulking-places in the +dense forest skirting the few log houses near by. So +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>leaving his aged relative to follow at his leisure, he +bounded up the path leading to the house. Thinking +of his empty gun, he was anxious to get a new supply +of powder before putting himself in the pathway of +any possible danger.</p> + +<p>All of the dwellings of Tyng Township were of +the most primitive character. There being no sawmill +on the river at that period, the houses were built +of hewn or unhewn logs, as the fancy or capacity for +work of the owner dictated. The MacDonald cottage +was smaller than the average, but the logs +making its four walls had been hewn on the inside. +The building was low-storied, and had small openings +or loop-holes for windows, over which small +mats of skins had been arranged to stop the apertures +whenever it was desired. Originally the space +of the building had been divided into only two apartments +on the lower floor, but one of these had been +subdivided, so there were two sleeping-rooms, one +for Rilma and another for Mr. MacDonald, besides +the living room, on the first floor. Norman occupied +the unfinished loft for his bedchamber. Some of the +houses of Tyng Township, or Old Harrytown, as it +was quite as frequently called, had no floor, but in +this hewn logs embedded in the sand and cemented +along the seams or cracks afforded a solid foundation. +A stone chimney at one end carried off the +smoke from the wide-mouthed fireplace, which added +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>a cheerfulness as well as genial warmth in cold +weather to the primitive dwelling.</p> + +<p>The furnishing of this typical frontier house was +in keeping with its surroundings. The kitchen, or +room first entered, which served as sitting-room, parlour, +dining-room, and living apartment, was supplied +with a three-legged table, a relic of ancient days that +had been the gift of a neighbour, two old chairs +which had been repaired from some broken ones, +while a rude bench answered for a third seat. In +one corner was an iron-bound chest, which had been +the only piece of furniture, if it deserved that name, +that had been brought from their native land. It +held the plain wardrobes of the three. Hanging to +the sooty crane in the fireplace was an iron pot, +while in a niche in the rocky wall was a pewter pot, +a frying-pan, and a skillet. In another small opening +cut higher in the side of the building reposed the +scanty supply of household utensils, a couple of pewter +spoons, two wooden spoons, three knives, a couple of +broken cups, a pewter dipper, and three wooden forks, +with four rude plates made from two thicknesses of +birch bark. There was also a small earthen pot.</p> + +<p>Over the fireplace, hung on pegs driven in the +chinks of the logs, was a long-barrelled musket of +Scottish pattern, whose bruised stock and dinted +iron bespoke hard usage. This was the weapon +Robert MacDonald had carried in the desperate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>fight at Glencoe, when his clan had been completely +routed by the English. Near by hung a powder-horn, +grotesquely carved like an imp’s head, and in +close companionship was a bullet-pouch. Near it +was another peg, the usual resting-place of an even +more highly prized relic than any of these ancient +pieces of property, namely, the bugle with which +the old Highlander had called home the truant +Norman.</p> + +<p>The room, though rudely furnished, bore every +trace of neatness and thrift, with an air of comfort +in spite of its simple environments. The rough +places in the walls were concealed by wreaths +of leaves and ferns, and the table was bordered +with a frill made of maple leaves knit together +by their stems. On a shelf, made of pins driven into +the wall, lay three books, one of them a volume of +hymns, the second a collection of Scottish songs and +ballads, while the third was a manuscript book of +records of the Clan MacDonald, with some added +notes of the McNiels.</p> + +<p>The door was made by four small poles fastened +together at the corners with wooden pins and strings +cut from deer hide, the whole covered with a bear +skin carefully tanned and the fur closely trimmed.</p> + +<p>In his anxiety to go in search of Rilma, Norman +did not stop to replenish his horn from the general +supply of powder, but snatched that of his grandfather +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>from its peg, and, loading his gun as he went +along, left the house.</p> + +<p>His home was near a small tributary of the Merrimack, +which joined the main stream a short distance +below the falls. The house stood a short distance +back from what was considered the main road of the +locality, a regularly laid out highway running from +Namaske to the adjoining town of Nutfield or Londonderry, +and following an old Indian trail. This +road also led, a short distance (half a mile) above the +falls, past two or three dwellings, to a more spacious +log house which was the home of another Scottish +family by the name of Stark. Archibald Stark, the +head of this household, was a fine representative of +his race, and he and his beautiful wife, with their +seven children, four boys and three girls, were a +typical frontier family, cheerful, rugged, hospitable, +and progressive.</p> + +<p>As the geese which had caused Rilma to leave her +home had been the gift of Bertha Stark, the oldest +daughter of the family, Norman hurried toward the +home of these people, never doubting but he should +find Rilma loitering there to continue some girlish +gossip.</p> + +<p>Soon after crossing the brook, however, his sharp +eyes discovered fresh footprints in the soft earth +near the bank of the stream and along a path leading +to a small pond in the brook, where the water had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>been held back by a dam of fallen brushwood. He +was sure the tracks had been made by Rilma.</p> + +<p>“The geese have got away from her and gone to +the Pool,” he concluded. “I shall find her there. +Better still, by waiting here I can head off the foolish +geese from going back to their old home, as they +will be pretty sure to do.”</p> + +<p>He had barely come to this conclusion, when he +was startled by a loud squawk, quickly followed by a +scream.</p> + +<p>Something was wrong! He bounded along the +narrow pathway toward the scene, while the outcries +continued with increasing volume.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Rilma, having been obliged to go quite +to Mr. Stark’s house to find her truants, was returning +with them, as Norman had imagined, when, on +reaching the path leading to the little pond, the contrary +creatures darted toward the Pool with loud +cries. She followed, but not swift enough to stop +the runaways.</p> + +<p>The geese had gained the bank of the little pond, +and she was following a few yards behind them, +when a dark form sprang from a thicket bordering +the pathway, and seized the foremost goose.</p> + +<p>Thinking at first it was a dog attacking her geese, +Rilma called out sharply to the brute, as she bounded +toward the spot. But a second glance showed her +not a dog but a big wildcat!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span></p> + +<p>Nothing daunted by this startling discovery, the +brave girl flourished the stick she carried in her hand +and ran to defend the poor goose. So furiously did +she rain her blows about the wildcat’s head that it +dropped its prey and sprang upon her! With one +sweep of its paw it tore the stout dress from her +shoulder and left the marks of its cruel claws in +her flesh. But the squawking goose, fluttering about +on the ground, seemed a more tempting bait for the +wildcat, which abandoned its attack on Rilma and +sprang again on the goose.</p> + +<p>Flung to the ground by the fierce assault of the +beast, Rilma quickly regained her feet, and, seeing +her favourite goose in deadly danger, she again +attempted its rescue, although the blood was flowing +in a stream from the wound in her shoulder. It was +at this moment that Norman appeared on the scene.</p> + +<p>Rilma and the catamount were engaged in too +close a combat for him to shoot the creature without +endangering her life, so he shouted for her to retreat, +as he rushed to her assistance. But it was now +impossible for her to do that. Having torn her +dress nearly from her, and aroused at the sight of +the blood flowing so freely, the enraged beast was +in the act of fixing its terrible teeth in Rilma’s body, +when Norman pushed the muzzle of the gun into the +wildcat’s mouth, and pulled the trigger.</p> + +<p>A dull report followed, and the catamount fell +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>over dead. Norman was about to bear Rilma, who +was now unconscious from pain and fright, away +from the place, when a terrific snarl rang in his +ears from over his head! Looking up, he saw to +his horror a second wildcat, mate to the other, lying +on the branch of an overhanging tree, and in the act +of springing upon him!</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V"> + CHAPTER V. + <br> + <small>JOHNNY STARK.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Norman McNiel did not possess an excitable +nature, and his thoughts did not flow with that +acute swiftness so common to some persons, but +he more than made up for this by a clearer comprehension +of matters. The sight of the wildcat, +preparing to give its fatal spring, did not rob him +of his presence of mind, though he realised that +in a hand-to-hand encounter with the brute he was +likely to become its victim. Still, the possibility of +deserting Rilma was something he did not for a +moment consider. He would defend her until the +last. Accordingly, as the second growl of the +aroused animal grated harshly on his ears, he +caught his gun by its barrel and stood ready to use +it as a club.</p> + +<p>Then the long tail of the creature lashed its sides, +and its lissom form shot toward him like a cannon +ball. But, as the wildcat left its perch, there was +a flash so near Norman’s head that he was almost +blinded, and the report of a firearm rang out. Another +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>and louder growl came from the catamount, as +it fell at his feet in the throes of death.</p> + +<p>“Look out she don’t get her claws on you!” cried +a voice at his elbow, a warning Norman quickly +obeyed, pulling Rilma away with him.</p> + +<p>“She dies hard,” affirmed the newcomer, advancing +to the side of Norman, “but I reckon that lead +was run for her. If I had been a minute later you +would have had a tussle old Woodranger himself +might not have cared for.”</p> + +<p>The speaker, who made this remark with the +unconcern and cool criticism of a man with years +of experience as a hunter, was in reality but a boy +of eleven years of age, though as large as the majority +are at thirteen or fourteen. He was not prepossessing +in his looks. His countenance was marred +by a beaked nose and chin inclined to meet it, while +his skin was abundantly tattooed with freckles, and +his coarse hair verged on an unhappy reddish hue. +But the dark blue eyes redeemed somewhat the +plainness of the other features, and his independent, +perfect self-control of spirit more than made up +for the slight Dame Nature had given him in other +respects. He was familiarly called Johnny or Jack +Stark by his playmates and companions, and he +afterward became the celebrated General Stark, the +hero of Bennington.</p> + +<p>“You are right, Johnny,” exclaimed Norman, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>“and if your hand had not been steady and eye +true neither Rilma nor I would ever have lived to +thank you for your coming. Poor lassie! I fear she +has been—no! She opens her eyes,—she lives! +You have no more to fear, dear sister; they are both +dead. Don’t move if it hurts you. Jack and I will +carry you home.”</p> + +<p>Though not inclined to show deep emotion, +Norman exhibited great joy at the returning consciousness +of Rilma, whom he loved with all the +tender regard of one who feels that another is all the +world to him. Gently he placed the tattered dress +about the bleeding form and with his hand wiped away +the blood from the wounds made by the wildcat.</p> + +<p>“Old Mother Hester!” cried Rilma, quickly gaining +her feet, “did the horrid creature kill her?”</p> + +<p>Norman understood that “Mother Hester” was +the name she had given to the poor goose, whose +mangled body, torn and lacerated beyond recognition, +lay a short distance away.</p> + +<p>“She is dead, Rilma, but let us be thankful that you, +too, were not killed. If I had been a minute later you +would have been overpowered by the fearful cat, +and then Jack saved us both from the other. But +they are dead, and we have no more to fear from +them.”</p> + +<p>Although grieved over the loss of her favourite +goose, Rilma felt thankful that she had escaped with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>even the dreadful scratches of the wildcat, none of +which had been very deep.</p> + +<p>“I can walk, dear brother; and I want to get +away from this place as soon as possible. Jack will +look after the other goose for us.”</p> + +<p>Taking the hint, Norman led her gently along the +path, saying as he did so:</p> + +<p>“Won’t you come with us, Jack?”</p> + +<p>“I think I will, Norman, as I have something +I want to say to you as soon as you feel like hearing +it. I was on my way to your house when I heard +your shot, and hurried to your assistance. I will +make myself useful, too, by carrying home the body +of the dead goose and driving the other along. +Some one can come up and look after the wildcats +later.”</p> + +<p>“You are very thoughtful, Jack, as well as brave. +I do not believe there is another boy of your age who +could have shot that wildcat as you did.”</p> + +<p>“You say that because you do not know Rob +Rogers. He shot a big black bear, that was nosing +around his father’s house, when he was only seven, +and you know I am almost eleven. Robby, since +he has begun to go with Woodranger, has become +a mighty hunter, and he’s only fourteen now.”</p> + +<p>The conversation was checked at this point by the +appearance of Mr. MacDonald, who had heard the +firing and was greatly excited over the affair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span></p> + +<p>“Oh, my bairns!” he cried, “hoo gled I am tae +find that ye hae na been— Why, my wee lassie! +What hae they been doing to ye?”</p> + +<p>Norman gave a brief account of the encounter +with the wildcats, his grandfather catching up Rilma +in his arms and bearing her toward the house as he +finished, forgetful of his infirmities. The old Highlander +sobbed like a child at intervals, while alternately +he would burst forth into expressions of +endearment and thankfulness in his picturesque +speech.</p> + +<p>Seeing that Rilma was being cared for, Norman +started back to help Johnny Stark find the surviving +goose, which was found skulking in the bushes nearly +frightened to death. Catching it after some trouble, +Norman carried it homeward in his arms, while +Johnny bore the body of its dead mate.</p> + +<p>“I will get father to send Goodman Roberts to +look after the carcasses of the wildcats, as soon as +I get home,” said the latter, as he walked at the +heels of Norman, the path being too narrow at +places for a couple to walk abreast. “What I +wanted to speak to you about,” he continued, “was +the canoe match which is talked of to take place on +the river next month. You know three Scotch boys +are to race against three English boys. Brother Bill +and Robby Rogers have been chosen to represent +our side, and we want another. We have spoken +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>to father about it, and he agrees with us that you are +the one. Now will you do it?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I am willing to do anything I can, but +I am afraid I have not had as much practice as I need. +You know I have not been here as long as the rest +of you, though nothing suits me better than a paddle +on the water.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll have over a month in which to practise. +I’ll risk you, and so will the others. I understand +John Goffe is to be one of their crew, though no one +seems to know who the others will be. Johnny is +a good one with the paddles, but he is nowhere with +Rob. Bill will beat anybody else they can get, and +with you to help our side will be safe.”</p> + +<p>“You mustn’t be overconfident, Johnny, but if +I take hold I will do the best I can.”</p> + +<p>By the time they had reached the house Norman +had decided to accept the invitation to take part in +the canoe match, and Johnny Stark, having performed +his errand successfully, lost no further time +in running home to tell the good news.</p> + +<p>Mr. MacDonald dressed Rilma’s wounds as best +he could, with the simple means at his command, +though she bravely declared that she did not suffer +any pain.</p> + +<p>It was then getting to be quite dark, and, lighting +his corn-cob pipe, Mr. MacDonald took his favourite +position in the doorway to smoke and meditate over +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>the events of his checkered life. These had ever +been hallowed occasions to Norman and Rilma, who +had sat at his feet for many an hour listening to the +pathetic tales of which he seemed to have no end. +In these twilight talks they had heard him tell over +and over again, until every word was familiar to them, +the stories of the fate of the brave MacDonalds in +the Pass of Glencoe, and the downfall of the last of +the McNiels.</p> + +<p>On this evening Rilma had lain down on her +simple couch for rest and release from the pain of +her wounds, so that Norman was alone with his +grandfather.</p> + +<p>“Ha, ma laddie!” broke in Mr. MacDonald. +“Ye’re that glum ye dinna seem like yersel’ the +nicht. Trouble na ower the few scratches o’ a cat, +the bonnie lassie wull sune be hersel’,” he continued, +attributing Norman’s silence to thoughts of +Rilma.</p> + +<p>“I must confess, grandfather, I was not thinking +of poor Rilma, though I ought to be ashamed to +own it. I was thinking of a little affair which +happened this afternoon, and how best I could +break it to you. I would have spoken of it before, +but I did not wish to arouse Rilma’s fears.”</p> + +<p>With the characteristic reserve of his nature, the +old Highlander removed his pipe from his lips without +speaking, signifying as plainly by his silence as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>he might have done by words his desire for an explanation. +At a loss how to begin, Norman hesitated +for a time, the only sound heard above the steady +roar of Namaske being the mournful cries of a +whippoorwill in the direction of Rock Rimmon, +until finally he gave a detailed account of his arrest +by Gunwad for hunting deer out of season.</p> + +<p>“Ha, ma laddie!” exclaimed his grandfather, when +he had finished. “Ye dinna want tae be low-speerited +wi’ anxiety ower that, though it does look a bit squally +for ye. I’m gled ye telt the auld man, for noo he’ll +ken just hoo tae trim his licht. Then, tae, an auld +man’s coonsel may na cum amiss wi’ a young +heid.”</p> + +<p>“Grandfather, I had no more to do with hunting +or killing that deer than you did.”</p> + +<p>“In intent, my braw laddie. But ye maun remember +I never crossed the brawlin’ stream. But avaunt +wi’ sic nonsense! It behooves us tae see what can +be dune for ye, noo ye hae fa’en in the net.”</p> + +<p>“Can they do anything with me, grandfather? +Woodranger bade me be hopeful.”</p> + +<p>“Wha is this Woodranger, laddie, that ye speak +sae freely o’? I dinna ken but I may hae heard the +name afore.”</p> + +<p>“He is a man who lives by hunting and scouting, +grandfather. During the Indian troubles he did +great service to the families who were molested by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>the red men, and everybody seems to like him. He +has been all over the country, and he is very friendly +to me.”</p> + +<p>“Is he Scotch, laddie? That maks a’ the difference +in the warld in this affair.”</p> + +<p>“I am not sure, though I should say he is. He +seems very honest.”</p> + +<p>“Hoot! awa wi’ yer nonsense if ye canna tell an +Englishman frae a Scotchman. Let me but get my +auld een on him an’ I’ll tell ye if he’s a true +laddie. What’s his name?”</p> + +<p>“Just what I told you, grandfather,—Woodranger. +At least that is all he would give me.”</p> + +<p>“A bit against him, laddie. But allooin’ he is yer +freend, I am a bit feart ye’re nae pleasant fixed. This +Gunwad ye say is an Englishman?”</p> + +<p>“I have no doubt of that. I can see that this +foolish feeling between the colonists is going to be +against me.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, ma laddie, that’s whaur the shoe grips! +Every Englishman, wumman, and bairn looks on us +as intruders, as they dae every Presbyterian, wha they +hate waur than wildcats. I see noo I did mak’ a bit +o’ a mistak’ in droppin’ here, but auld Archie Stark +thocht it was best for us. I dinna ken whaur this +misunderstandin’ is gaen tae end. Seems tae me it +will be the destruction o’ baith pairties. But dinna ye +lat this little maitter cum intae yer dreams, my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>laddie. Sleep gie’s ane a clear heid, an’ it’s a +clear heid ye’ll need the morn amang the Britishers +at Chelmsford.”</p> + +<p>Taking this hint, Norman, after having seen that +Rilma was as comfortable as could be expected, +sought his humble couch under the rough rafters +of his pioneer home.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI"> + CHAPTER VI. + <br> + <small>THE MAN WHO KNEW IT ALL.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>After a restless sleep Norman was astir an hour +before sunrise. His grandfather was already up and +preparing a breakfast for him.</p> + +<p>“You maun eat, ma laddie. It seems unco’ that ye +maun gang tae meet thae Britishers alane. I fain +wad gang wi’ ye.”</p> + +<p>“That cannot be, grandfather. It would not do +to leave Rilma here alone. Never fear but I shall +come back safely.”</p> + +<p>As soon as he had eaten hastily of the plain meal, +Norman kissed Rilma and taking his gun started to +leave the house.</p> + +<p>“If the lassie disna mind, I’ll walk wi’ ye tae the +river’s bank,” said his grandfather. “I’ll nae be +gane lang, lassie, so hae nae fear.”</p> + +<p>Norman felt that his grandfather’s real object in +accompanying him was to get a look, if possible, at +the Woodranger, who was expected to meet him on +the river bank. But nothing of the kind was said +until they came in sight of the stream, when they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>discovered the forester already on hand. He had +crossed over to the east bank, and at sight of +Norman said:</p> + +<p>“I am glad you are so promptly here, lad; it +shows a good mark to be prompt. It always pays to +be prompt. As we shall have to go down on this +side, I thought I would come over and save—”</p> + +<p>Woodranger, with a sudden change in his demeanour +unusual to him, stopped in the midst of +his speech, to fix his gaze closely on the old Highlander. +The latter was eyeing him no less intently. +Anxious to break the embarrassing silence, Norman +said, quickly:</p> + +<p>“My grandfather, Woodranger. He felt so anxious +about me that he has come down to see me +fairly started.”</p> + +<p>“So yo’ air Woodranger?” asked Mr. MacDonald, +as if such a thing was not possible, while shifting +looks of doubt, curiosity, fear, and confidence crossed +his features. The forester soon recovered his wonted +composure, replying to the other’s interrogation:</p> + +<p>“Men call me that, MacDonald. I have heerd o’ +you, and I’m glad to meet you. I hope you have no +undue consarn over the lad.”</p> + +<p>“Th’ laddie is puir, Woodranger,” cried the old +man, putting aside further reserve and grasping the +forester’s hand. “Yo’ll hel’ him out o’ this trouble?”</p> + +<p>“He shall not lack for a friend. I trust the lad +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>will have no great difficulty. Where is the dog, +lad?”</p> + +<p>“Gone, Woodranger, but I do not know where. I +thought perhaps Gunwad took him with him. I did +not see him after I met you.”</p> + +<p>“I see him sneaking through the woods as if he +had committed some grievous misdeed, but thought +he might be pulling home.”</p> + +<p>“Ye’re no in sympathy wi’ thae Britishers?” asked +Mr. MacDonald at this juncture.</p> + +<p>“Nay, old man; I’m neutral. It is a foolish +quarrel and no good can come o’ it.”</p> + +<p>“Neutral!” exclaimed the old Highlander, to +whom, with his stubborn, aggressive nature, such a +thing seemed impossible, and then a new shade of +misapprehension came over his countenance, as he +scrutinised the ranger’s rifle.</p> + +<p>“A French weapon!” he exclaimed. “Nae guid +can come o’ a man’s bein’ neutral an’ a-carryin’ a +French gun.”</p> + +<p>“We are in luck, lad,” said Woodranger, ignoring +the last speech of Mr. MacDonald. “I l’arned last +evening that Captain Blanchard had come to Tyng +Township yesterday, so I see him and he says you +can be tried without going to Chelmsford. That will +save you twenty-five miles o’ walking.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of that!” exclaimed Norman, “and I +hail it as a good omen. Do you hear that, grandfather? +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>I have not got to go to Chelmsford to have +my trial.”</p> + +<p>Mr. MacDonald only shook his head, seeming too +much engrossed over the appearance of the Woodranger +to reply by words.</p> + +<p>“I don’t like to cut short any speech you wish to +make to the old man, lad, but it’s time we were on +our way. A mile or more o’ the river has run by +sence we stopped here. It’s an ’arly start that +makes an ’arly end to the jarney. Good morning, +Mr. MacDonald; have no undue consarn over the +lad.”</p> + +<p>Fully understanding the Woodranger’s anxiety to +meet Gunwad promptly, Norman hastily caught the +hand of his grandfather, as he murmured his good-bye, +while the forester moved silently away.</p> + +<p>“I jest want to say a word to ye, ma laddie,” said +Mr. MacDonald, in an undertone. “I dinna ken whut +to mak o’ this man ca’d Woodranger, but ye canna +be owre careful. He carries a French weapon, an’ +is neutral in a quarrel whin every true Scot shud +stan’ by his colours. I dinna ken what tae mak o’ +the man.”</p> + +<p>With this dubious warning, which no words of +Norman could shake, he stood there watching the +twain until their forms had disappeared in the distance. +Even then he hesitated about starting homeward. +His head continued to move back and forth, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>and his lips became tightly compressed, as if fearful +they might allow something to escape that he was +anxious to conceal.</p> + +<p>Tyng Township comprised a strip of territory +three miles wide, and extending six miles along the +east bank of the river, so it was not necessary for +them to cross over. In fact, that would have necessitated +a return to that side before reaching their destination. +After leaving his home Norman saw but +a few houses for some distance, the land being little +more than sand patches, and too poor to support a +crop of any kind.</p> + +<p>“I do not wonder it is called Old Harrytown,” Norman +said, as he noticed this, “and they say only the +Old Harry could live here.”</p> + +<p>“Tyng’s men got a bad bargain when they got it,” +said the Woodranger. “Though it may be that they +think more of the fish than the soil. They be fat +and plenty. The deer, too, are sleek; but they are +fading away with the red hunter. Sich be the great +unwritten law that a man’s associates must go with +him.”</p> + +<p>They had not gone more than a mile before they +were met by Gunwad, who showed his satisfaction at +seeing them.</p> + +<p>“Was afeerd th’ feller mought gin ye th’ slip, +Woodranger.”</p> + +<p>The forester making no reply to this statement, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>the three walked on in silence, the appearance of +the deer reeve putting an end to all conversation.</p> + +<p>Another mile down the stream they began to come +in sight of the log houses of the pioneers, who were +trying under adverse circumstances to found themselves +homes in the new town. As they came in +sight of one of these typical homes, they saw a tall, +cadaverous man mounted on the top of a blackened +log fence surrounding a cleared patch bordering the +house. He was bareheaded, and had no covering +for his feet, save a generous coating of dirt, and his +lank body was clad in a coarse shirt, made, by long +contact with the earth, the colour of the soil, and a +pair of gray homespun trousers stopping short in their +downward career a little below the knees. As he +sat there on his elevated perch, his long arms were +doubled akimbo over his knees, which stuck up +sharp and pointed.</p> + +<p>At first it looked as if his occupation was the +watching of the gyrations of one of his big toes, as +it scraped back and forth on the charred surface +of the log, but a closer inspection showed that he +was gazing at a patch of broad-leaved plants looking +suspiciously like that much despised weed of lane +and pasture, the mullein. But if so, it had been cultivated +with assiduous care, and had flourished like +“the green bay-tree” of the story-writer.</p> + +<p>At sight of our party he suddenly checked the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>movements of his toe, his jaws stopped their rapid +grinding, and he cried out in a shrill, piping voice:</p> + +<p>“Hello, Ranger! Wot in creation is yer sweeping +by fer like a falling hemlock? Ain’t fergot an ol’ +man in his weakness, hev ye?”</p> + +<p>“Not a forgit, Zack Bitlock, but as we have a +lettle amazement with ’Squire Blanchard we wanted +to be sure and get to him afore he should leave for +down the river. A fine morning.”</p> + +<p>“Mornin’s well ’nough; ’bout as ye air mind to +look at yit. But it’s pesky gloomy to me. Say, +Ranger, I kalkilate ye mus’ be a tol’rable good jedge +o’ ’backer?”</p> + +<p>“Mebbe I know the leaf from dock root, though +I can’t say as I’m much o’ a jedge o’ the quality, +Zack, seeing I never—”</p> + +<p>“Look a-here, Ranger! I want yer honest opine +consarnin’ thet air stuff,” pointing, as he spoke, to +the rows of green, broad-leaved plants adorning his +primitive garden, and comprising most of its contents.</p> + +<p>Approaching the fence, the Woodranger looked +over, saying, after a brief survey of the scene:</p> + +<p>“I see leetle but mullein, though I must say, while +not claiming to be an apt jedge in sich matters, it +has made a good growth. How is it, Zack, you give +so much ’tention to raising sich useless truck, though +it be said it is excellent for cattle?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span></p> + +<p>“It’s my gol-danged foolishness, Ranger, which +made me spend my valer’ble time raising sich truck. +I ain’t got no cattle to feed it. My ol’ woman ’lowed +it was mullein a goodish spell ago, but I larfed at +her. An’ then, when I see thet she wuz right an’ +I wuz wrong, like the hog I wuz, I had to hol’ my +mouth and keep on growing mullein! Gol dang! To +think, I, Zack Bitlock, in my sound mind an’ common +sense, sh’u’d be a-weedin’ out an’ prunin’ up an’ +’tendin’ mullein, thinkin’ all th’ while ’twas ’backer!”</p> + +<p>“How did it happen, Zack?” asked Woodranger, +who could not help smiling at the look of utter disgust +and shame on the other’s wrinkled countenance.</p> + +<p>“It all kem o’ my blamed smartness! Ye see I +figger yit out like this. Joe Butterfield, he don’t +pertend to know more’n other folks, an’ so las’ year +he kem to me an’ wanted to know what was th’ bes’ +thing to make taters grow. He had seed mine +climbin’ like all creation, and seein’ he wuz too +blamed green to raise ennything but fun fer his +betters, I tole him th’ very bes’ thing was rotten +hemlock, an’ to put a chockin’ handful in each hill. +Well, what did th’ dried-in-the-oven fool do but follow +my ’vice, only he put a double portion in each +hill, so as to beat me at my own game, I s’pose. I +larfed to myself all th’ while ’em taters didn’t stick +up a top. Ye see th’ hemlock wuz so durned dryin’ +it jess baked the taters afore they c’u’d sprout. Joe +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>laid it to th’ seed, an’ I s’posed thet wuz the las’ o’ +it, ’ceptin’ a good stock o’ jokes I had laid in fer +spare talk with Joe.</p> + +<p>“But I can see now th’ critter was sharper’n I +’lowed, an’ he mus’ hev smelled a mice. So when +I kem to ’quire fer backer plants he gin me more’n +I wanted. Leastways he give me what I s’posed +wuz backer plants, an’ now, drat my pictur’! ef I +ain’t been ’tendin’ an’ nussin’ ’em blamed ol’ mulleins, +an’ a-workin’ my jaws all th’ while, thinkin’ what +a Thanksgivin’ I’d hev chowin’ th’ backer. Oh! +th’ fool ingineuity o’ some men!”</p> + +<p>Smiling at the evident disappointment and chagrin +of Zack Bitlock, Woodranger started on, when the +other called out to him:</p> + +<p>“Say! seems to me ye hev got a smart start fer +th’ shootin’-match.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t say that I’ve given the matter a thought, +Zack. Been away perambulating the forests for a +good space o’ time.”</p> + +<p>“A shootin’-match, an’ ye not know yit, Ranger? +I do vum! thet’s amazin’. But there is to be a +tall shoot at th’ Pines this mornin’. Cap’en Goffe +is to be there, an’ Dan Stevens; an’ I overheerd +las’ evenin’ Rob Rogers wuz to kem. Everybuddy’ll +be on hand. Coorse ye’ll go now, Ranger?”</p> + +<p>“Onsartain, Zack, onsartain. If we have time +the lad and I may be there. Good morning.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span></p> + +<p>“Ye may be thar, Woodranger, an’ I see no +reason w’y ye shouldn’t; but with th’ youngster +it’ll be different. I reckon he’ll be fur from hyur +then, ’less my plans miscarry,” said Gunwad, who +had been silent.</p> + +<p>Without noticing this speech, the forester moved +ahead at a rate of speed which showed he was +anxious to make up for the few minutes lost in +conversation with Goodman Bitlock. Norman kept +close beside him, while Gunwad, the deer reeve, +followed at his heels.</p> + +<p>Zack Bitlock did not shift his position on the +fence until he had watched them out of sight, when +he left his perch, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>“Blamed queer ef th’ ol’ Ranger is goin’ to er +shoot an’ won’t own yit! Thar’s sumthin’ afoot. +But I’ll l’arn their dodge or I ain’t up to shucks,” +and without further delay he shuffled down the road +after the others.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII"> + CHAPTER VII. + <br> + <small>NORMAN’S TRIAL.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The destination of Norman and his companions +was a small settlement at the lower end of Tyng +Township called Goffe’s Village, out of respect to +one of its foremost inhabitants, John Goffe, afterward +known as Colonel Goffe the Ranger.</p> + +<p>This little hamlet stood at the mouth of a small +stream known as Cohas Brook, which flowed into +the Merrimack five miles below the Falls of Namaske.</p> + +<p>Before reaching Goffe’s Village, Norman and his +companions passed a cross-road leading over the +hill and toward the Scotch-Irish settlement on the +east. About a mile up this road, at a point called +“The Three Pines,” or “Chestnut Corners,” the +shooting-match was expected to take place during +the forenoon.</p> + +<p>As Tyng Township was settled during an interval +of peace, there was no fort or garrison within +its limits. Neither was there a public house of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>any kind, so Norman must be tried at the house +of one of the most active inhabitants of the town, +this having been arranged for by the Woodranger.</p> + +<p>Somewhat to our hero’s surprise, several persons +were gathered about the house, as early as it was, +and he knew by their looks and low-spoken speeches +that they had been watching for his coming. In +fact, though he did not know it, Gunwad had taken +great pains to circulate the story of his arrest, and +had boasted loudly that his trial would be worth +attending. News of that kind travels fast, and, as +short as the time had been, quite a crowd had +collected, some coming several miles from the adjoining +town, Londonderry, the former home of the +Scotch-Irish now in Harrytown.</p> + +<p>Among the others was a boy of fourteen, who +attracted more than his share of attention. His +name was Robert Rogers, and he was destined to +be known within a few years, not only throughout +New England but the entire country, as chief of that +famous band of Indian fighters, “Rogers’s Rangers.” +Already he was considered a crack shot with the +rifle, and the fleetest runner in that vicinity. A +strong bond of friendship bound him to the Woodranger, +who had become his tutor in the secrets and +hidden ways of woodcraft. No doubt he owed much +of his future success to this early training. He +was strongly and favourably impressed by the appearance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>of Norman, and he said aside to a companion:</p> + +<p>“He’s a likely youth; and mind you, Mac, if they +are overhard with him there’s going to be trouble,” +an expression finding an echo in older hearts there, +though the others were more cautious in their +utterances.</p> + +<p>“Hush, Robby!” admonished the boy’s friend; +“say nothing rash. Captain Blanchard has the +credit of being an extremely fair man, and, withal, +one with a handy knack of getting out of a bad +scrape easily. Here he comes, as prompt as +usual.”</p> + +<p>Norman was being led into the house by Gunwad, +who had now assumed charge of his prisoner. They +were met at the door by a tall, rather austere appearing +man, whom our hero knew by the little he +had overheard was ’Squire Blanchard.</p> + +<p>“You are promptly on hand, Goodman Gunwad,” +said the latter; “come right in this way,” escorting +the little party into the house, which was more commodious +than most of the dwellings.</p> + +<p>The deer reeve frowned at the salutation of Captain +Blanchard, for it did not please him. Notwithstanding +the simplicity of those times, a stronger +class feeling existed than is known to-day. As a +distinguishing term, the expression “Mister,” which +we apply without reserve or distinction, was given +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>only to those who were looked upon as in the upper +class, “Goodman” being used in its place when a +person of supposed inferior position was addressed. +The cause for Gunwad’s vexation is apparent, as he +aspired to rank higher than a “Goodman.” But he +thought it policy to conceal his chagrin, though no +doubt it made him more irritable in the scenes which +followed.</p> + +<p>At the same time that the prisoner was led into +the house by his captor, a small group of men, in the +unmistakable dress of the Scotch-Irish, and headed +by a tall, bony young man named John Hall, gathered +about the door.</p> + +<p>Woodranger nodded familiarly to these stern-looking +men, but before entering the house he turned to +speak to a medium-sized man, with the air of a +woodsman and the breeding of a gentleman about +him. He was none other than Captain Goffe, who, +while he did not belong to the Tyng colony, was +living in the midst of these men. It is safe to say +that he was on friendly terms with every person +present, or who might be there that day. The spectators, +noticing this brief consultation between the +forester and the soldier-scout, nodded their heads +knowingly.</p> + +<p>’Squire Blanchard then put an end to all conversation +by saying:</p> + +<p>“I understand this is your prisoner whom you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>charge with killing deer out of season, Goodman +Gunwad?”</p> + +<p>“He is, cap’en.”</p> + +<p>“Are your witnesses all here?”</p> + +<p>“All I shall need, I reckon.”</p> + +<p>“Are your witnesses here, prisoner?”</p> + +<p>“I have none, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then, unless objection is raised by the prisoner +or the complainant, the case will be opened without +further delay. I think there is a little matter several +are anxious to attend to,” alluding to the forthcoming +shooting-match.</p> + +<p>“Th’ sooner th’ better, cap’en,” said Gunwad, +showing by his appearance that he was well pleased. +“I reckon it won’t take long to salt his gravy.”</p> + +<p>“I understand you charge this young man, whose +name I believe is McNiel—”</p> + +<p>“A son, cap’en, of thet hated McNiel—”</p> + +<p>“Silence, sir, while I am speaking!” commanded +’Squire Blanchard. “You charge this Norman McNiel +with shooting deer out of season?”</p> + +<p>“I do, sir.”</p> + +<p>“You will take oath and then describe what reason +you have for considering the prisoner guilty.”</p> + +<p>As soon as he had been properly sworn Gunwad +went on to describe in his blunt, rough way how he +had been attracted to Rock Rimmon by a gun-shot. +Upon reaching the spot he had found a dead deer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>there, while the prisoner and his dog were the only +living creatures that he saw in the vicinity. The +youth’s gun was empty, and he acknowledged his +hound had started and followed the deer.</p> + +<p>“I knowed the youngster o’ a furriner,” he concluded, +“as the boy livin’ with thet ol’ refugee o’ a +MacDonald at the Falls, so I lost no time in clappin’ +my hands on him.”</p> + +<p>These allusions to Norman’s father and grandfather +it could be seen were given to antagonise, as +much as possible, the Scotch-Irish spectators. But +’Squire Blanchard ended, or cut short, his speech by +asking if he had witnesses to prove his statements.</p> + +<p>“Woodranger here was with me, an’ I reckon his +word is erbout as good as enny the youngster can +fetch erlong. Woodranger, step this way, an’ tell th’ +’squire whut ye know erbout this young poacher.”</p> + +<p>In answer to ’Squire Blanchard’s request, but not +to Gunwad’s, the forester took the witness-stand, and, +after being duly sworn, answered the questions asked +him without hesitation or wavering.</p> + +<p>“You were with Gunwad yesterday, Woodranger, +when he met the prisoner at Rock Rimmon?”</p> + +<p>“I was, cap’en.”</p> + +<p>“And you saw the deer he had shot?”</p> + +<p>“I see the carcass o’ a dead deer laying at the foot +o’ Rock Rimmon, cap’en.”</p> + +<p>“It was the deer the prisoner is supposed to have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>shot?” asked ’Squire Blanchard, noticing the Woodranger’s +cautious way of replying.</p> + +<p>“It was the only deer I see.”</p> + +<p>“You saw Gunwad take a bullet from its body?”</p> + +<p>“I did. I see, too, that the lead had not found +a vital spot.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say the deer was not killed by +the shot?”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I mean.”</p> + +<p>Gunwad was seen to scowl at this acknowledgment, +while the spectators listened for the next +question and reply in breathless eagerness.</p> + +<p>“What was the cause of the creature’s death, +then?”</p> + +<p>“It was killed by its fall from Rock Rimmon. +To be more correct, I should say its leap from the +top of Rimmon, which you mus’ know is a smart +jump.”</p> + +<p>“But it was driven over the cliff by a hound at its +heels?”</p> + +<p>“It could have gone round if it had wished. I +’low it was hard pressed, but it looked to me the +critter took that way to get out o’ a bad race.”</p> + +<p>A murmur of surprise ran around the crowded +room, while Gunwad was heard to mutter an oath +between his teeth.</p> + +<p>“You say that for the benefit of the prisoner?” +demanded Blanchard, sharply.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span></p> + +<p>“I do not need to, cap’en. Besides, I’m under +oath.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to say that a deer would jump off +Rock Rimmon intent on its own destruction, Woodranger? +Now, as a man who lives in the forest, +knows its most hidden secrets and worships its solitudes, +answer me if you can.”</p> + +<p>Even Gunwad was silent now, and the knot of +talkers outside the door, realising that the conversation +between the justice and the witness had reached +a point of more than ordinary interest, abruptly ended +their discussion, to listen with the others.</p> + +<p>“Cap’en Blanchard,” said the Woodranger, in his +simple, straightforward way, “I ’low I’ve spent a +goodish portion o’ my life in the woods, ranging ’em +fur and wide it may be, sometime on the trail o’ a red +man, sometime stalking the deer, the bear, or the +painter. Being a man not advarse to l’arning, though +the little book wit I got inter my head onc’t has +slipped out, I have picked up some o’ Natur’s secrets. +I can foller the Indian’s trail where some might not +read a sign. The trees tell me the way to go in the +darkness o’ night; and the leaf forewarns me the +weather for the morrer. If I do say it, and I think +I may be pardoned for the boasting, few white men +can show greater knack at trailing the Indian or +stalking the four-footed critters o’ the woods. My +eye is trained to its mark, my hand to its work, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span>Ol’ Danger here,” tapping the barrel of his long rifle, +“never has to bark the second time at the same +critter. I hope you’ll pardon me for saying all this, +seeing no man has enny right to boast o’ the knacks +o’ Natur’. If I have been a better scholard in her +school than in that o’ man, it is because her teachings +have been more to my heart. Her ways are +ways of peace and read like an open book, but the +ways o’ man are ways o’ consait and past finding +out. Though I live by my rifle, I do not believe in +wanton killing, and I never drew bead on critter with +a malicious thought.</p> + +<p>“But pardon me for so kivering the trail o’ your +question as not to find it. One is apt to study the +manners o’ ’em into whose company he is constantly +thrown. So I have studied the ways o’ the critters +o’ the woods very keerfully, to find ’em with many +human traits. They have their joys and their sorrers, +their loves and hates, their hopes and despairs, +just like the human animal. In the wilds o’ the +North I once saw a sick buck walk deliberately up +to the top o’ a high bluff, and, after stopping a +minute, while he seemed to be saying his prayers, +jump to death on the rocks below. At another +time, I sat and watched a leetle mole, old and sick, +dig him a leetle hole in the earth, crawl in, and +kiver himself over to die. I remember once I had +a dog, and if I do say it, as knows best, he was the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>keenest hound on the scent and the truest fri’nd a +man ever had. But at last his limbs come to be +cramped with rheumatiz, his eyesight was no longer +to be trusted, and his poor body wasted away for the +food he had no appetite to eat. In his distress he +lay down in my pathway, and asked me, in that language +the more pathetic for lacking words, to put an +end to his misery by a shot from my gun.</p> + +<p>“I say, Cap’en Blanchard, I’ve witnessed sich as +these, and, mind ye, while I do not pretend that deer +leaped to its death o’ its own free will on Rock Rimmon, +in the light o’ sich doings as I’ve known it +might have done it rather than to find heels for the +hound any longer.”</p> + +<p>Though the Woodranger had spoken at this great +length, and in his roundabout manner, not a sound +fell on the scene to break the clear flow of his voice. +It was evident his wild, rude philosophy had taken +effect in the rugged breasts of those hardy pioneers. +Even ’Squire Blanchard paused for a considerable +space before asking his next question.</p> + +<p>“Granting all that, Woodranger, it has but slight +bearing on the fact of the prisoner’s guilt or innocence. +I understand you to say it was his hound +which had started the deer, and which was driving +the creature that way—to its death, according to +your own words.”</p> + +<p>“If I ’lowed as much as that, cap’en, I said more’n +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>the truth will bear me out in. I will answer you by +asking you a question.”</p> + +<p>“Go ahead in your way, Woodranger,” consented +the other. “I suppose I should accept from you +what I would from no other person.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, cap’en. This is the leetle p’int I’ve +to unravel from my string o’ knots: If a nigger +should come to your house and stop overnight, +would that make him your slave for the rest o’ his +life?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“I figgered it that way. Wal, that deerhound, +and he was a good one, come to this lad o’ his own +free will and stayed with him whether or no. Yesterday +the critter took it into his head to start a deer +from Cedar Swamp, and he did so without the knowledge +o’ the lad. The dog left, too, as soon as he +see the mischief he’d done. Dogs may not understand +man’s laws, but they sometimes know when +they have broke ’em.”</p> + +<p>“But there is no denying that the prisoner shot +the animal?” demanded ’Squire Blanchard, as if determined +not to be beaten at every point.</p> + +<p>“Not if that chunk o’ lead will fit the bore o’ his +gun,” holding out the bullet Gunwad had taken from +the deer’s body. “The lad has his gun with him, if +I mistake not.”</p> + +<p>A ripple of excitement ran around the room at this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>speech, and Gunwad, as if fearing the trial was going +contrary to his wishes, broke in with the exclamation, +directed to no one in particular, but heard +by all:</p> + +<p>“This is er purty piece o’ tomfoolery!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII"> + CHAPTER VIII. + <br> + <small>END OF THE TRIAL.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>’Squire Blanchard rapped smartly on the table +in front of him for order, before he said:</p> + +<p>“You may try the bullet in the prisoner’s gun, +Woodranger.”</p> + +<p>Reaching forward and taking Norman’s firearm, +he held it in his left hand, with inverted muzzle, +while he laid the bullet on the top. There the round +piece of lead rested, being too large to drop down the +long, slender throat. For the first time a murmur +of applause was heard.</p> + +<p>Gunwad stamped his foot, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>“It isn’t the weepon he had yesterday!”</p> + +<p>In answer to ’Squire Blanchard’s questioning look, +Woodranger said:</p> + +<p><a href="#i_frontispiece">“I’m under oath.”</a></p> + +<p>The three short words, spoken so impressively by +the man who would have sooner given his life than +lie, were sufficient,—sufficient for all except the +angry deer reeve.</p> + +<p>“That will do for the present, Woodranger,” +declared the justice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span></p> + +<p>“Hol’ on!” exclaimed Gunwad. “I want to ask +him a question.”</p> + +<p>“You will have plenty of time as soon as I have +examined the prisoner.”</p> + +<p>Compelled to remain quiet, the deer reeve then +listened to Norman’s straightforward account of the +little affair. Of course his version exactly agreed with +what the Woodranger had given, and at its conclusion +’Squire Blanchard was frank enough to say:</p> + +<p>“There doesn’t seem to be sufficient evidence to +hold the prisoner. The complainant fails to prove +that it was his dog which started the deer, or that +it was he who shot it, therefore, I command the +release of Norman McNiel. But according to your +own account of shooting at the hawk, young man, +I should not advise you to have very high hopes at +the shooting-match. This court stands adjourned. +Now, boys, for the Three Pines!”</p> + +<p>A loud cheer greeted “his Honour’s” unique +way of dissolving his court, while the infuriated +Gunwad pushed his way forward, crying, in a loud +voice:</p> + +<p>“Ye betrayed me, Woodranger! I thought ye +wuz my fri’nd and ye proved my Judas! It wuz a +miserable sneak game to cheat me out’n my reward, +but I’ll hev the skunk wot fired thet shot, be he +a white-livered furriner or a copper-skin.”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger managed to leave the room +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>without coming in contact with the irate speaker. +Some of those present tried to check the deer reeve’s +bitter utterances. The majority seemed well pleased +with the way the trial had ended, though it had +called forth several animated discussions among the +spectators. Naturally the Scotch-Irish, to a man, +complimented ’Squire Blanchard on his way of disposing +of the case. This very state of satisfaction +among those they so thoroughly disliked, however, +awakened keen distrust among the Tyng colonists, +who began to develop a strong opposition to the +course the matter had taken. ’Squire Blanchard +was the town’s clerk, and one of the most active +of the grantees. But some declared that he had +favoured their rivals, though he had been perfectly +honest in his treatment of the case. Gunwad, naturally, +was determined to get what advantage he could +from this mixed situation.</p> + +<p>“It’s nothin’ but downright insult to ’low this +young furriner to come in hyur an’ shoot down our +deer without regard to our laws. I ain’t ag’in +sayin’ thet Cap’en Blanchard didn’t ’vestigate as +he oughter.”</p> + +<p>“Woodranger ain’t inclined to the belief that the +boy did it,” ventured a bystander. “There ain’t +many who doubt the word of him. He fit with +Lovewell and is parfectly honest.”</p> + +<p>As if the last was the natural result of the first +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>act, and beyond dispute, the speaker retired in a +satisfied manner.</p> + +<p>“He lied in this!” exclaimed Gunwad, but quickly +qualifying his statement, for fear he had made it +stronger than would be accepted. “At least he +put it in sich light as to deceive the cap’en. A deer +killin’ itself,—the idee! He didn’t give me a fair +chance.”</p> + +<p>“Better let it drop here, Gunwad,” said a friend. +“No good will come of stirring the mess.”</p> + +<p>“Ef ye had been trod on as I hev ye wouldn’t feel +so easy erbout yit. I’d like to git er rope eround the +hull Irish gang an’ be th’ one to shake ’em over +Namaske! Bet yer life I w’u’dn’t hol’ on to thet +rope only long ernough to see thet they were in +a way to git wet to their livers.”</p> + +<p>“Bet you wouldn’t hold on to that rope any longer +than I could get my fist on you, you little runt of +a Britisher!” exclaimed a voice at his elbow, and +turning about the deer reeve was startled to find the +tall, muscular figure of young Hall confronting him.</p> + +<p>“Better be careful how you talk such foolery +here!” declared the latter. “Unless you want +more trouble than you can handle.”</p> + +<p>The cowardly Gunwad offered no reply, breathing +easier when the other had gone beyond hearing.</p> + +<p>The shooting-match was an event important +enough to arrest the attention of the spectators, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>turn their thoughts into another channel than shooting +deer out of season. The majority at once started +toward the shooting grounds.</p> + +<p>Still Gunwad remained just outside the house discoursing +to a little group of listeners, who were in +sympathy with him, on the grievous wrong he believed +had been done him, and to embitter the others +as much as possible against their rivals.</p> + +<p>“I s’pose ye know who this young upstart is,” he +half questioned, and, as if to answer it himself, continued:</p> + +<p>“I know as well as ef it was writ in a book. One +o’ ’em Irishers tole me, so I got it straight. They +hate him like pizen, but don’t like to let on. Ye all +know th’ Irishers air all refugees, an’ thet they fust +fled from Scotland for treason to th’ king, who got +arter ’em like a mad bull. They went to Ireland, +which they soon had to quit fer more treason. Ye +see it’s in him, bone and blood. Finally they concluded +to come to this kentry in a body, an’ mus’ +needs git out in th’ dark. Some o’ their inimies got +hol’ o’ their scheme, but didn’t let on. So when th’ +lot got ready to start they found their way stopped +by armed men. They managed to git away, when +some on ’em looked round for th’ traitor, an’ it +weren’t long afore th’ Judas was found. He was +Arch McNiel, this boy’s father. He got away, but +he killed two o’ ’em afore he got clear. His escape +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>didn’t do him much good, fer he was shot dead on +th’ king’s highway two days later. His wife, ol’ man +MacDonald’s darter, took it so to heart she died right +off. Thet left th’ ol’ Scotchman with th’ boy on his +hands, only he was a baby then. Now if there is enny +ones I despise it’s Judases, and it’s sich fellers as th’ +McNiels as kem hyur to rob us o’ our—”</p> + +<p>No sooner had his release become known than +one after another of the onlookers crowded around +Norman to congratulate him, among the rest being +Robert Rogers, who wrung his hand heartily.</p> + +<p>“The ’squire was perfectly fair,” he said. “Of +course Gunwad had no proof against you. He is an +evil man, anyway. If you had been sent to gaol there +would have been some lively times in Old Harrytown, +and some of the Londonderry boys might have had +a finger in the stew.”</p> + +<p>“Such language is ill-timed,” said the Woodranger. +“I find it is well never to resort to wanton talk, as +talking but leads to fighting. There is enough of +that to do with the red men. The whites have +enough to answer for in bounty on scalps of the +misguided savages, without killing each other. +Harrytown is not worth the spilling o’ a drop o’ +innocent blood.”</p> + +<p>“I wish to thank you for your kindness to me, +Woodranger,” said Norman, improving his first +opportunity to express his appreciation of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>forester’s proof of friendship. “I am sure if it +hadn’t been for you I should have had to go to +Chelmsford.”</p> + +<p>“I was under oath, lad, and told of the affair just +as it was. I’m very thankful I’m not given to deceiving. +True, men resort to such manner o’ doings +when tracking the red man, but that is only the natural +artifices o’ warfare. In peace it is—”</p> + +<p>“Look there, Woodranger!” interrupted young +Rogers, pulling the speaker’s sleeve; “you upbraided +me for talking trouble. Will you listen to the arguments +of Gunwad?”</p> + +<p>At first the Woodranger was inclined to merely +glance toward the man, whom it was evident he +despised. But, as his gaze ran over the deer reeve +and his knot of listeners, his countenance quickly +changed its hue, and he became an intent hearer of +the other’s garbled account of Norman’s father. He +trembled from head to foot, and as Gunwad reached +that point where he used the words “to rob us o’ +our”—the forester, with that swift, silent step so +natural to him, glided to the deer reeve’s side. Before +the story-teller realised his presence, he seized +him with one hand by the throat. As the powerful +fingers tightened, their victim was lifted clear from +his feet, and held at arm’s length by the iron-like +grasp of Woodranger.</p> + +<p>The deer reeve could not utter a word, and he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>seemed in imminent danger of being choked to death, +but he struggled violently to break from the hand +which had so unexpectedly caught and held him like +a huge bat twisting and squirming in mid-air.</p> + +<p>“Utter another word o’ sedition and I’ll warp your +head from your shoulders!” exclaimed the forester, +sharply. “Let this be a warning to sich petty +whippers and growlers as you,” flinging the other to +the ground, and striding away from the place as if +escaping from some obnoxious creature.</p> + +<p>This violent display of anger on the part of the +Woodranger, who had never shown anything of the +kind before, so startled the onlookers that not a word +was spoken until he had gone beyond hearing. As +soon as the dazed Gunwad had begun to recover his +senses, he shook his fist after the retreating forester, +muttering maledictions he was careful the other +should not hear. Fortunately the few left about +the place did not care to engage in any row, so the +affair was speedily forgotten, except by Gunwad, +in the interesting and exciting scenes which followed.</p> + +<p>As he strode away in righteous wrath, Woodranger +caught Norman by the hand, saying:</p> + +<p>“Come with me to the shoot, lad. I fear me much +I’ve committed a foolish indiscretion in letting my +temper run away with my jedgment. A man never +knows his strength till he has tried his weakness. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>Oh, the shoot will not detain you more than a couple +o’ hours. You will get home as soon as your grandfather +will expect you. You have that shot at the +hawk to redeem, and this is your time.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX"> + CHAPTER IX. + <br> + <small>THE SHOOTING-MATCH.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>A shooting-match in the days of the pioneers was +always sure to attract a large crowd of spectators and +a goodly number of marksmen. Such was the case +in Tyng Township. It is true there had been a +spirited trial of the kind at the last Thanksgiving, +among the Tyngsmen, but over eight months had +elapsed since then, and as keen an interest was felt +on this occasion as before. In fact, there was greater +excitement and anxiety, as certain elements had entered +into this contest which had been unknown in +the other. Previously there had been merely a +friendly rivalry among kindred spirits. Now scores +were to be settled between antagonistic parties.</p> + +<p>The match had been the outcome of a boyish dispute +and quarrel. Willie Tyng, a grandson of the +celebrated Captain Tyng of the “snow-shoe expedition,” +and Archie Gamble, son of one of the foremost +Scotch-Irish settlers, had together shot at an eagle. +One shot missed the bird, while the other brought +the victim to the ground. Then each claimed the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>honour of the successful shot, each being really at a +loss to prove his assertion. From angry words they +came to challenge each other to a test with the gun, +in order to show who was the better marksman. +Then, the friends of the two taking up the dispute, +plans were made for a general match, which all could +enter who wished.</p> + +<p>As the most convenient grounds for the affair, the +plateau on the summit of the elevation known as +Chestnut Corners, or the Three Pines, was selected. +This had really been chosen as the site for a proposed +meeting-house, so a clearing large enough for +the occasion had been made.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, the day did not promise the excessive +heat of the closing of July, and the fog which had +hung over the river during the morning had lifted, so +the weather was all that could be asked.</p> + +<p>“I suppose you will win the prize in the first class,” +said Norman to the Woodranger, as he walked along +on the right hand side of the forester, while Rob +Rogers kept step on the other side.</p> + +<p>“Doubtful, my lad, doubtful. Such sport does +well enough for boys, but it seems to me a wanton +waste o’ powder to an ol’ man, who has but enough +for the game he must o’ necessity bring down. +Then, too, having been perambulating the woods so +much of late, I had nary inkling o’ such doings. +However, I ’vise you to try a bead, just to show ’em +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>that with proper practice you can ketch the bird’s +eye, e’en if it be a hawk.”</p> + +<p>“You must enter on our side, Woodranger,” said +Rob. “We’re going to beat ’em to-day if it takes a +tooth.”</p> + +<p>“Ordinarily that is right, Robby, but it is good +reason why I should not mix in the ’fair. ’Twould +only stir bad blood and aggravate the ol’ wound. No, +no, lads, I’m neutral in this quarrel. It’s my humble +opinion this match had better been settled ’mong the +lads, where it begun. A shooting-match is a dangerous +’fair where there is hot blood ready to be spilt. +It looks so there was going to be a goodish +crowd.”</p> + +<p>They were then approaching the grounds, which +were already thronged with loud-talking men and +boys, who had come early so as not to miss any +of the “fun.”</p> + +<p>Already the committee, consisting of three men +from each party, had perfected the preliminary +arrangements. The contesting marksmen had been +divided into two classes. The boys, or younger +members of the rival factions, were to pit themselves +against each other first, after which the men were to +try their more experienced hands. This decision +meeting with the approval of all, the names of the +youthful claimants for the honour were listed, until +six on each side had been included.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span></p> + +<p>Among those on the Tyng Township part were +Johnny Goffe, Willie Tyng, John Spaulding, and +Burton Woods, with two others. The Scotch-Irish +were represented by Norman McNiel, Robert Rogers, +Archie Gamble, and three more, whose names need +not be given.</p> + +<p>Our hero had been somewhat loath to participate +in the trial, though he felt certain he need not feel +ashamed of his skill with his rifle. Woodranger had +advised him to enter the list, so he had done so. +Some objection was raised at first to Robert Rogers, +as he lived out of town. But when he cheerfully +offered to withdraw, it was almost demanded by all +that he remain.</p> + +<p>This selection of the marksmen took nearly half +an hour’s time. Then a hundred yards, the distance +agreed upon, was measured off, and the target put +up against the trunk of a big pine. The object at +which they were to shoot was a stave about six +inches wide and a couple of feet long, which had +been rived from a pine expressly for this occasion. +Near its centre had been marked a spot the size of +a bullet, which was called the bull’s-eye. Around +this a line had been traced, making a circle just an +inch in diameter. Outside of this mark were two +more circles, each an added inch in size, so the +largest was three inches across. Whichever side +should succeed in placing the greater number of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>bullets inside the inch ring would be declared the +victor. Should all fail to come so near to the bull’s-eye, +the party which should put the most inside the +second or middle circle would be the winner. Failing +in this the third circle would count, but no bullet +hitting the stave outside that should, under any +circumstances, be counted at all.</p> + +<p>By this time seventy-five persons had gathered +on the clearing, an anxious, curious, excitable +crowd, anticipating the result with conjectures in +regard to the relative skill of the different contestants. +It was pretty generally agreed that the parties +were very evenly matched, though the ability of +Norman was less known than that of his companions.</p> + +<p>“Now, stand back, so the boys can have a chance +at a clear field,” said Captain Goffe, who had been +unanimously chosen master of ceremonies. A skurrying +to get out of the way followed. Woodranger, +who had scarcely spoken since the beginning, took a +position where he could command a view of the +whole situation. Assuming his favourite position, +with arms akimbo across the muzzle of his rifle, he +watched and waited in silence.</p> + +<p>It had been decided that the firing should be +done alternately by the two parties. It fell to the +Tyng boys to lead, and young Goffe stepped into +the small arena designated as the marksman’s stand. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>Taking careful aim, he sent the first ball inside the +smallest ring, amid the cheers of those who were in +sympathy with him.</p> + +<p>“Beat that with yer Gambles and McNiels if you +can!” called out a lusty voice. “Three cheers for +Johnny Goffe!”</p> + +<p>Three hearty huzzas were given for the boy marksman, +while the name of the first on the list of the +Scotch-Irish was called. He was a tall, strapping +youth by the name of MacKnight, afterward noted as a +sturdy patriot in the French and Indian wars and in +that of American Independence. Perhaps he was +overconfident of his skill, for, with a hasty aim, he +sent his bullet barely in the second ring. Groans on +the part of the English succeeded, but not a cheer +from their rivals. The disappointed lad retired crestfallen +from the scene.</p> + +<p>Again the Tyng portion of the crowd was on the +alert, as the second of their favourites took his position. +Put on his guard perhaps by the failure of +MacKnight, he raised his gun slowly and carefully +until it was on a line with the mark. His hand +trembled, showing the suppressed excitement under +which he was labouring. Hesitating a moment, he +lowered the weapon, while the Scotch-Irish took +advantage of the action to break forth into loud jeers.</p> + +<p>The lack of confidence the boy marksman evinced +was manifested by the result of his shot. His bullet +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>fell outside of the second line, and the opposing +party gave shouts of derision.</p> + +<p>Archie Gamble’s turn came next. He took a +careful aim, occupying what seemed to the bystanders +a long time, but fired at his first poise.</p> + +<p>“First ring!” cried the foremost of those who +rushed forward to examine the stave. A deafening +cheer went up from the Scotch-Irish. But this +applause proved premature, for, upon closer examination, +it was found that the lead, while it had cut +the line, lay with its larger part outside of the mark. +The Tyng boys were still ahead.</p> + +<p>Willie Tyng then took the stand, sending a bullet +with such accuracy that it lodged inside the smallest +ring. The applause from his admirers was +louder and more prolonged than any before.</p> + +<p>This so disconcerted the next marksman that he +missed the stave altogether! At least that was the +excuse his friends made. Be that as it might, the +result was the same.</p> + +<p>One-half of the rivals had now tried their hands +and the Tyng boys were well ahead. As soon as +he could make himself heard for the wild cries uttered, +the person, who had interjected his boastful +words before, again shouted:</p> + +<p>“Git home, ye sons o’ Scotch-Irish Macs, and +take yer blunderbusses with yer. They may do to +hang yer pots an’ kittles on, but they never—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span></p> + +<p>Captain Goffe tried to check this foolish speech at +the outset, but the speaker would not stop, though +the cheers of his companions drowned his concluding +words.</p> + +<p>The sun of the Tyng boys seemed to be in the +ascendant surely, for their fourth representative +placed his bullet inside the magical circle. Their +score now stood at three. Every Scotch-Irish boy +left on the list had got to score the centre circle in +order to make a record even with their rivals. Even +the most candid of their opponents could not blame +the English crowd for the loud huzzas which followed +their last triumph.</p> + +<p>“Norman McNiel!” called off Captain Goffe, as +soon as he could make himself heard above the confusion +of voices. Then the young refugee stepped +quickly into the ring, and silence again fell on the +scene. No one present really knew his ability as +a marksman, and it is safe to say he was watched +with keener interest and deeper anxiety than any +one before him. Should he fail, the Scotch-Irish +might as well bid adieu to their hopes. More curious +than anxious, the rival party looked on in silence, +somewhat indifferent as to the result.</p> + +<p>This being his first appearance before a crowd, +and realising how much was depending upon himself +and his two companions, Norman felt a nervousness +which was ominous of his failure. It was with difficulty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>he quieted his nerves enough to hold his gun +steadily. He had been taught that the first sight +was best, and the report of his weapon rang out +before the spectators were prepared for the shot.</p> + +<p>But, as usual, some one was beside the stave in +the twinkling of an eye. No one was expecting the +announcement he yelled forth in wild excitement, +unless it was the Woodranger, who had smiled as he +had seen Norman pull the trigger:</p> + +<p>“The bull’s-eye! He’s cut out the dot!”</p> + +<p>At first the spectators could not realise the truth +of these words, but as soon as it was found to be so +such shouts went from the Scotch-Irish as awoke the +surrounding woods and put to shame the applause of +their rivals.</p> + +<p>“It is the handsomest shot I’ve seen for many a +day,” frankly declared Captain Goffe, who made no +attempt to still the shouts, though his sympathies +were really with the other side.</p> + +<p>It was a proud moment for Norman, though he +retired modestly to the background. Woodranger, +speaking for the first time since the opening of the +match, was heard to say:</p> + +<p>“The lad has it in him. It is a natural knack few +can boast of. Aweel, it will be so much to the red +man’s cost, or I cannot read the futur’.”</p> + +<p>The fifth Tyng representative failed to get nearer +the bull’s-eye than the outer edge of the second ring. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>His competitor sent his bullet so as to cut the inside +circle, very similar to the shot of Archie Gamble. +His effort was considered better than the others, +however, as he made a perfect line shot.</p> + +<p>The sixth and last contestant for the honour of +Tyng Township proved himself worthy of the confidence +placed in him. His bullet struck by the +side of Johnny Goffe’s. The Tyng boys had now +assured their triumph beyond dispute, no matter +what the result of the concluding trial. So they +were jubilant, while the Scotch-Irish were correspondingly +low-spirited.</p> + +<p>The latter party had, wisely or not, kept their +most hopeful champion for the last. For his years, +Robert Rogers had been considered the best shot +in Silver River country. Thus some persisted in +cheering, as he took the stand. A portion of the +opposition improved the opportunity to deride the +boy marksman.</p> + +<p>“Give ’em all th’ chance that belongs to ’em,” +cried a burly onlooker. “We’re safe. See Rob’s +hand tremble. It’s ten to one he couldn’t hit th’ +broadside o’ a deer. Say, Rob, did ye ever hev +th’ buck fever?”</p> + +<p>“Close your mouth or I’ll take your head for a +target, Bill Exeter, and I’ll hit the bull’s-eye, too,” +cried young Rogers, sharply, as he prepared to take +aim. He was nettled and disappointed by the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>blundering shots of all his associates, except Norman. +“’Taint no fair show, anyway,” he continued, +“when a bull’s-eye don’t count more’n a ringer. I +told ’em so and—”</p> + +<p><em>Spang!</em> rang out the sharp report of his weapon, +in the midst of his own speech. The smoke had +not cleared away before the cry came tauntingly +above the medley of sounds:</p> + +<p>“Rob ain’t hit the stave!”</p> + +<p>“Prove it or I’ll make you eat them words!” he +exclaimed, fiercely, starting toward the target.</p> + +<p>“It’s so, and I can prove it by Captain Goffe. +There ain’t no new hole made in the stave since Ben +Butterfield fired. Where’s your boasts now, Rob +Rogers?”</p> + +<p>“As sound as a nut. No new hole in the stave, +eh? Does that prove that I ain’t hit the bull’s-eye? +Look where Norman McNiel put his lead, and if I +ain’t got a chunk of lead there on top of his I’ll +never draw bead again on buck nor redskin.”</p> + +<p>The youthful scout showed that he was terribly +in earnest, and a deep silence fell on the scene, +while Captain Goffe, removing the target, began an +examination for the bullet in the pine. In a minute +he had extricated a piece of lead, somewhat flattened, +but with the shape of the bullet still remaining. As +he held this up to the gaze of the spectators, he +said:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span></p> + +<p>“McNiel’s bullet is still left in the tree, directly +beneath where this was embedded. Rob was right; +he put his bullet through the bull’s-eye in the exact +track—”</p> + +<p>He was not allowed to finish. The Scotch-Irish +spectators began to yell themselves hoarse. The +score of their team, though lower than the other +side, showed two of the best shots which had been +made. If they had been defeated, it was a proud +defeat.</p> + +<p>Rob Rogers crossed over to where Norman and +Woodranger were conversing, and grasping our +hero’s hand, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Mac, I like your style, and I want you for a +friend. When you go on the trail of the red enemy +I want you to let me go with you. Woodranger, I +wish to thank you for training me in the way you +have.”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut, lad! the knack o’ drawing a true bead +is God’s gift, not man’s. He who gave life sees fit +to give the power to take it. It is the manner in +which that gift is used that counts in the great +string o’ knots at the last. You both made good +shots, lads, and you’ll make a powerful team—a +powerful team, lads.”</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad to go with you, Rob,” said Norman, +as he clasped the other’s hand.</p> + +<p>Little did either of them dream of the stern reality +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>which was to cement the boyish pledge so impulsively +made. Little did any of those young marksmen +dream of the more trying test of their skill which +was so soon to come. Those who now hung their +heads with shame were destined to lift them with a +proud consciousness of duty well done in the savage +warfare so soon to carry terror to their New England +homes.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X"> + CHAPTER X. + <br> + <small>AN ALARM.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The English were exultant over the victory won +by their champions, while the Scotch-Irish claimed, +as they well could, that the best shots had been +made by two of their competitors. If decided upon +the real merits of the match, they believed the +championship belonged to them. Still, that was not +exactly according to the rules of the trial, which, +it could now be seen, had not been made so as to +obtain the fairness intended. The truth was, no one +had anticipated such marksmanship among the young +rivals.</p> + +<p>With the contest of the youthful members over, +talk concerning the trial among the men speedily +put the other in the background, except to a few. +If excitement had run high before, it was evident it +would reach boiling pitch this time, and the more +timid began to tremble for the result.</p> + +<p>As in the other match, representatives were to be +chosen for each side, the difference being that only +three were to participate from each party this time. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>But in order to satisfy others who were desirous of +showing their skill, a third trial was to be had, in +which all were to be allowed to take part in a sort +of off-hand shooting.</p> + +<p>Knowing his unerring skill with his rifle, it was +natural the Woodranger should be urged by both +sides to champion their cause. But the forester was +wise enough to see that it would be better for him, +if not for the rest, to keep in the background.</p> + +<p>“Such doings may be well and fitting for lads, +but it seems to me a grievous waste o’ powder for +ol’ men to be shooting at a stave. No good can +come o’ it. It’s the unwritten law o’ natur’ that +men should war on the wild creatur’s o’ the forest, +and if they must, it is enough to burn their powder +for the helpless and innocent that cannot speak for +themselves. The lads have made a good showing, if +I do say it. When the war-whoop o’ the red man +is heard again in our midst, as it is sartin to be at no +distant day, it shows we shall have bonnie boys to +take our places. No; these doings ain’t to my consarn. +I may have a knack at drawing bead on the +buck or the b’ar, or the red man if he crosses my +path, but I do not believe in wanton waste o’ powder. +Besides, I’m no man’s inimy. The wild, boundless +forest is my free domain, and the good Lord gave it +to me as neutral ground.”</p> + +<p>These words, spoken in his deliberate, impressive +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>way, emphasised with a shake of the head, convinced +the others that it was useless to urge the forester +further to enter the match. But if he would not +become a principal in the proceedings, would he +not act as manager? Finally, with great reluctance, +seeing what no one else foresaw, that an open rupture +was imminent before the affair was well over, +he consented to accept the responsible part. He +did this more in the hope of averting a crisis than +for any other reason.</p> + +<p>The distance for the men was to be the same as +for the boys, but with the former only bull’s-eye +shots were to count, except in case no one should +hit the centre, when the nearest shot would be considered. +After one round at the target, a trial at a +living mark by the successful ones was to end the +matter.</p> + +<p>It soon proved that the men were more unreasonable +than the boys had been, and more competitors +wished to enter than were called for. It required all +of the tact at the command of the Woodranger to +select those who should enter the competition. In +the midst of his perplexing duties, Zack Bitlock, still +barefooted and dishevelled in appearance, pushed +his way forward to the forester’s side, saying, in his +peculiar tone:</p> + +<p>“Ef yit’s all th’ same to ye, Ranger, I want the +taking o’ yer rifle a leetle bit. I thought mebbe I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>sh’uld wanter be in th’ shoot at live things, an’ +yit mought be prudent fer me to try th’ iron a bit +aforehand, seein’ yit’s new to my hand, an’ Frinch, +too.”</p> + +<p>Woodranger paused in his work, to gaze on the +speaker fully a minute before he replied:</p> + +<p>“Sich a request passes my comprehension, seeing +a man’s rifle is the last thing he should surrender. +I remember when I was with that brave, but misguided +man, Cap’n Lovewell, that a red man asked +that same question o’ me. It may be he lacked your +politeness about it, for the ways o’ a red man ain’t +the ways o’ a white man, and something must be +’lowed for the difference. Well, as I was saying, +when I interrupted myself, the red man asked, in his +way, for my rifle. I ’lowed Old Danger to answer +for himself. I reckon the red was satisfied with the +reply, for he never repeated his request. No, Bitlock; +I will give the last crumb o’ dried bread or +the last shred o’ venison in my wallet to a suffering +fellow man; but my rifle, never! I would not do +that for my brother, had I been blessed with sich. +A man’s rifle is a part o’ himself.”</p> + +<p>“Put the Puritan fool off the ground!” cried a +brawny Presbyterian, starting forward, as if to carry +out his threat. This aggressive action instantly +called forth decisive opposition, and the rash speaker +was seized and rudely flung to the earth. The spark +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>which alone had been needed to set fire to the +combustible natures of the rival factions had been +unwittingly applied. Words and blows lie near together.</p> + +<p>Seeing the inevitable result, the Woodranger was +about to appeal to the hot-headed leaders, when a +most unexpected turn was given to the situation. It +was so sudden and startling as to carry a new terror +to every heart.</p> + +<p>A newcomer appeared upon the scene,—a young +boy, bare-headed, bare-footed, and so nearly exhausted +from long running that he could scarcely +get his breath. Facing the wondering crowd a +moment, he finally managed to utter the single word:</p> + +<p>“<em>Fire!</em>”</p> + +<p>There are few words in the language of man +which carry greater terror with them than that monosyllable, +and the personal differences of the spectators +were quickly forgotten, as every one waited for +the explanation expected.</p> + +<p>Seeing the boy was going to fall, Captain Goffe +sprang forward to catch him in his arms. After a +brief rest the young messenger aroused enough to +say:</p> + +<p>“There is a fire in the pines above Lund’s. It’s +going like the wind toward Benson’s house. It’s licking +up everything before it. They sent me to tell +you here, and I ran as fast as I could.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span></p> + +<p>A forest fire at that season was always a source of +danger, and this one, beyond the control of those +who had set it, meant more than the usual peril. +Several homes were menaced, to say nothing of the +threatened loss in other ways. It was perhaps fortunate +that a part of those homes in danger belonged +to Scotch-Irish people, who had settled in the vicinity +of Cohas, for that would surely enlist them in +fighting the flames. Of course the shooting-match +was instantly abandoned. All feelings of animosity +quickly put aside, the two factions, as one, ran down +the road toward the scene of the conflagration.</p> + +<p>Now that their attention had been turned in that +direction, huge columns of black smoke could be seen +rising above the tree-tops, and some declared they +could hear the crackling and rumbling of the flames. +In a little more than a minute after the news had +reached them every person had left the grounds about +the target pine, so swiftly did one and all awaken to +their duty.</p> + +<p>Norman had been talking with Robert Rogers and +Johnny Goffe when the announcement came, and +they were among the foremost in the rush for the +scene of the fire.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI"> + CHAPTER XI. + <br> + <small>A FIERY GIRDLE.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>In less than twenty minutes the leaders of the +approaching party were within plain sight of the conflagration, +and paused for a hurried survey of the +wild scene. The fire had gained great headway, and +every moment was of priceless value. Starting in a +piece of brushwood to the south of the small stream, +it had spread to the right and left, crossing the +Cohas in half a dozen places, and now was menacing +the homes of several colonists in the vicinity.</p> + +<p>The foremost of the comers, as cool and collected +as at the outset, was the Woodranger, and it was he +who first comprehended the situation and formed a +plan of action.</p> + +<p>“Half a dozen o’ you come with me to the defence +o’ the houses,” he said, in a tone heard plainly above +the roar of the fire. “The rest divide into two parties, +and going ahead of the columns o’ fire, on the +east and west, dig trenches, so as to stop the flames +both ways. A few men along the road ought to keep +the fire from crossing it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span></p> + +<p>Captain Goffe quickly led a gang to do the fighting +of the fire on the east, while Alexander McMurphy, +with as many more men, went to the south +on the Londonderry line. Others remained to guard +the road, while the Woodranger and ten others rushed +to save the threatened houses.</p> + +<p>Norman, Rob Rogers, and Johnny Goffe joined this +last party.</p> + +<p>It was soon found that the owners of the dwellings +had already left them, taking with them to a safe +distance all they could of their household effects. +With such rude tools as the colonists had to work +with, home-made hoes and shovels, the rescuers began +to dig trenches around the menaced homes, and to +clear away whatever combustible matter lay in the +way.</p> + +<p>They had barely begun, however, when the wind +shifted, so as to drive the fire directly down upon +them. A portion of the men retreated back into the +woods, unable to stand the heat.</p> + +<p>Seeing that the Woodranger showed no signs of +giving up, Norman held to his post, digging with +renewed vigour, though the smoke encircled him +and the heat fairly took away his breath. It was +terrible working there, but so long as any of his +companions stood the test, he was determined not +to give up. He knew Robert and Johnny were +keeping stubbornly at their digging.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> + +<p>The fire licked up the underbrush like chaff, +hissing, crackling, roaring with demoniac glee, as it +spread through the dwarf pitch-pines, or leaped up +the tall monarchs of the forest faster than the most +nimble wildcat or the swiftest bird, until the doomed +giant would be enveloped in a fiery shroud, the +crimson folds of which twisted and fluttered in fantastic +shapes, or leaped high into the air, making a +grand, but terrible, spectacle.</p> + +<p>The air was filled with bewildered birds driven +from their retreats in the woods, while snakes and +other creeping things glided hither and thither in a +wild race away from the pursuing flames. The cries +and hisses of the terrified creatures added to the +horror of the conflagration.</p> + +<p>In the midst of the exciting work the Woodranger +called to his companions to seize the pine brushes +they had provided themselves with in case of an +emergency, and go with him to help fight back the +fire which was crossing the danger line below +them.</p> + +<p>The three boys quickly obeyed the forester, and +some of those who had previously sought flight now +returned to battle manfully beside them. In this +way the flames were baffled in their attempt to reach +the houses. As if maddened by this repulse, the +conflagration suddenly swerved to the right.</p> + +<p>“The wind didn’t change any too soon,” declared +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>the Woodranger, as he stopped to wipe his perspiring +brow. “Rest a bit, lads; you did nobly. Unless +I’m mistaken, and no man has the knack o’ telling +what a fire may do next, there is leetle to fear here +now. If the wind does take a notion to send it back, +it cannot make the showing it did before. It is +swinging around toward Perham’s. Lads, you had +better run out to that opening and make a stand. +The rest o’ you may come with me. If we can hold +it in check fifteen minutes longer, I opine the worst +will be over.”</p> + +<p>The opening in question was a clearing of about +three acres in extent, which had been sown with +barley, and the grain was then ripe for the scythe. +Norman led the way to the upper side of this field, +where the three found themselves with their hands +full. A manful fight enabled them to keep back the +encroaching flames, until a shrill scream rang in their +ears, and caused them to pause in their wild work +long enough to glance around for the object of the +alarm.</p> + +<p>The flames beat down upon them so at that +moment that they were obliged to retreat toward the +centre of the opening. As soon as the smoke had +cleared from their eyes sufficiently for them to look +about, they found themselves beside a big rock-pile, +which Mr. Perham had heaped up in clearing his +land.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span></p> + +<p>Upon the top of the stone heap they were startled +to find a girl, about a dozen years old, crouching +on the rocks, too terrified to move or speak, except +to utter her heartrending screams. She had started +to cross the clearing, and suddenly found herself +surrounded by the conflagration; for, unnoticed by +the boys in their excitement, the fire had swept +around to the lower side of the clearing, so they +were all encircled by a fiery girdle. Licking up the +ripe barley, like shavings strewn in its pathway, the +flames were rushing toward them with the speed of +a race-horse.</p> + +<p>“We are lost!” cried Johnny Goffe. “We shall +be burned to death!”</p> + +<p>Knowing that they could not long remain there, +though it would be equally futile to try to break +through the fiery circle, Norman sprang up the rock-pile, +and caught the trembling girl in his arms. If +he could escape himself he was determined to save +her. How it was to be done he had no idea.</p> + +<p>As he descended with his burden, wild shrieks of +despair came from outside the circle of flames. It +was the child’s mother calling for her lost little one! +It was a moment none of them would ever forget. +Under the dark pall of the lowering smoke, Rob and +Johnny gazed on each other in silent terror. But +a most unexpected way of deliverance was opened +to them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span></p> + +<p>In reaching little Alice Perham, Norman dislodged +a round stone from the pile, which went bounding +down to the edge of the fire. Then into the fiery +girdle it went, making for itself a narrow pathway, +as it crushed down the grain and extinguished the +blaze where it tore up the loose earth.</p> + +<p>Norman saw the effect, and, seating Alice safely +one side, with a glad shout he began to roll other +stones that way, calling on his companions to do the +same.</p> + +<p>“Keep them in one track as much as you can, and +we will soon have a path for us to follow.”</p> + +<p>The second stone rolling through the gap of the +first, crushing more of the barley into the light earth, +made the rent wider. Robert and Johnny quickly +followed Norman’s example, and for a brief while a +perfect shower of rocks went bounding down the +hillside, until a considerable opening had been torn +in the blazing band. But the flames were getting +so near on other quarters that it was impossible +for the boys to remain there longer.</p> + +<p>“Now’s our time!” cried Norman, catching Alice +again in his arms. “Follow me!”</p> + +<p>Running at the top of their speed, they soon burst +through the burning barrier into the group of excited +women and children which had huddled together just +out of reach of the conflagration.</p> + +<p>Their clothes torn and burned in places and their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>hair pretty badly singed and skin blistered, the boys +presented a sorry appearance. As Norman had +protected her somewhat by his jacket, Alice had +escaped with the least injury. But no one had +received any serious harm, and, like the rugged +boys they were, they thought little of their slight +burns.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Perham, who, a minute before, had been +wringing her hands and shedding scalding tears of +grief, was now crying with joy, as she held Alice in +her arms.</p> + +<p>The women and children had nearly all gathered +in this vicinity, and as the wind continued to carry +the fire away from that quarter there was little +trouble in stopping its advance. In other places, +too, the men were getting control of the conflagration, +so fifteen minutes later the fighting was practically +over, unless the fire should break out in some new +section.</p> + +<p>Though of brief duration, it had been hot work +while it had lasted, so one and all were glad to +drop upon the ground wherever they might be, +or seek some more comfortable resting-place, until +they should regain something of their wasted +vigour.</p> + +<p>The shooting-match was quite forgotten for the +time being, and even the rancorous feeling, resulting +from it, unheeded as the rival colonists talked of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>great danger which had been barely averted by their +timely and almost superhuman efforts.</p> + +<p>“It was well we came to the fire in a body,” +declared the Woodranger, who had suffered less +from his exertions than any one else, though no +man had equalled him in effective work. “So many +coming at once fresh for the fight could do more +than four times the number coming singly or in +pairs. I ’low continual dropping will wear away a +stone, but fire isn’t to be worn out in that way. It +is a matter of thanksgiving that no lives were lost,” +and every one agreed with him.</p> + +<p>Norman was generously praised for his rescue of +Alice Perham, and he was urged to remain until he +had entirely recovered from his exertions. But he +knew his grandfather and Rilma would be anxiously +awaiting him, so he started homeward at once. As +it was not considered safe to leave the fire without +watchers, to see it did not catch in some new place, +the Woodranger volunteered his services.</p> + +<p>Having escaped so easily the charges brought +against him by Gunwad, Norman felt in good spirits, +notwithstanding his recent experience. He often +found himself thinking of his new-found friend, the +Woodranger, and he could not help wondering why +the singular man had taken such an interest in him. +The pleasant reflections filling his mind made him +poorly prepared to meet the startling intelligence his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>grandfather was trembling to communicate to him +the moment he should appear. That Rilma should +not hear it, he had stood for an hour anxiously +awaiting him by the river’s bank where he had parted +from him in the morning.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII"> + CHAPTER XII. + <br> + <small>BAD NEWS AT HOME.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Upon seeing Norman approaching, Mr. MacDonald +hurried forward to meet him, so excited and alarmed +that he could not speak.</p> + +<p>“What is it, grandfather?” asked Norman, anxiously, +as he half supported his aged relative, while +they began to move slowly up the path. “Something +has happened since I went away. Have—have +Rilma’s injuries proved more serious than we +thought?”</p> + +<p>“It’s nae that, ma laddie. It’s th’ sorriest bit o’ +news I hae heard since comin’ tae this place. A +man has been here this day an’ telt me that this +hame is nae oors—that we maun leave it!”</p> + +<p>It was some time before Norman could fully understand +the incoherent account of his grandfather, but +gradually he learned the truth. Two men had been +there and served a notice for them to move away +from the place, which they claimed was theirs.</p> + +<p>“Tae think we are again fugitives!” moaned the +broken-hearted man. “What hae I dune tae merit +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>this? An auld man i’ th’ wilda’, far frae the terrible +scenes whaur I’ve suffered an’ lost sae muckle, I hae +hoped for peace,—a few days o’ quiet to see the sun +o’ my life set. Weel, it is feint tae be. An’ this +seems the mair cruel deed o’ them a’, an’ God wists +the last was terrible. A refugee amang strangers in +an alien wilda’!”</p> + +<p>By the time they reached the house he was weeping +like a child, and, leading him to one of the seats, +Norman placed his hand on his gray head, saying, +softly:</p> + +<p>“Do not despair, grandfather; it may not be as +bad as you think. Who came to see you, and what +did he say?”</p> + +<p>“There were twa o’ them, laddie, an’ ilk said +we’re on lan’ which is theirs. I denied the lee, when +they ca’d me a thief an’ a leear! Oh, could I but +laid my haun’ on my staff then I wadna hae spared +the skellum! I—”</p> + +<p>“I hope you did not strike one of them, grandfather,” +said Norman, who could see that such a +course would only add to the seriousness of their +situation.</p> + +<p>“I dinna care! I dinna care!” moaned the old +Highlander.</p> + +<p>It seemed that neither of the visitors had given +any name, but from such fragments of description as +Norman could gather, he concluded that one of them +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>had been Gunwad. Now that he came to think of +it, he remembered that he had not seen the deer +reeve at the shooting-match or the fire. No doubt, +upon his failure to prove his charges of shooting +deer out of season, he had taken this move to renew +his persecution. How serious it might become he +had yet no way of judging.</p> + +<p>When Mr. MacDonald became calmer, he was able +to converse with Norman more intelligently.</p> + +<p>“I hae kep’ this frae Rilma,” he said. “Puir +bairn! I couldna bear to hae her ken it. Hoo lang +it seemed afore ye cam!”</p> + +<p>“But I have come safely, grandfather, and I come +free! They did not prove me guilty, and let us +hope this new trouble will be as easily overcome. +How is dear sister?”</p> + +<p>Before a reply could be given her own sweet voice +fell on their ears, and, looking around, they were +surprised to find her standing in the opening leading +to the inner apartment.</p> + +<p>“I am better, dear brother,” she said. “Please +do not blame me, but I have heard every word that +has been said, so I know your troubles, as it is right +I should. Why did you want to rob me of the +privilege of trying to comfort you in your grief, +grandfather? Is it because you prize home more +than me?”</p> + +<p>“The gude Lord forgie me, bonnie lassie! Ae +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>kiss frae your sweet lips is worth mair than a’ the +hames in the wilda’.”</p> + +<p>“Here is the kiss, dearest of grandfathers, with +one for count! So cheer up and let the sun shine. +Tears ill become a MacDonald.”</p> + +<p>“Till ye hae seen a MacDonald weep ye canna +ken what weepin’ is. But forgie me, bonnie lassie, +sic a little angel as ye is enough to cheer the heart +o’ an auld man, though it be hardened as leather.”</p> + +<p>She had twined her arms about his neck and was +kissing away the tear-drops, while he folded her to +his bosom.</p> + +<p>“Easy, grandfather,” said Norman; “remember +the hurts on her tender shoulders.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind them, grandfather, but hug just as +hard as you want to. You don’t hurt a mite, and +I was never so happy in my life!”</p> + +<p>Rilma’s tender entreaties were not without avail, +for soon the other lifted his gray head, and as she +brushed back the thin locks from the noble temple, +he said, in a merry tone:</p> + +<p>“I dinna ken how tae thank ye, ma bonnie lassie. +Ye hae lifted the load frae ma heart. See! I smile! +I’m a MacDonald again.”</p> + +<p>The childish joy of the old Highlander was something +pathetic to witness. Knowing how quickly +it might be driven away, Norman turned aside to +conceal his emotion. Rilma, younger, more confiding +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>and confident, continued her caresses, until +he laughed in genuine happiness.</p> + +<p>“What do we care for an old log cabin, grandfather? +Norman can build another, better than this; +but he cannot bring us another grandfather like you. +I am going to enjoy your dear old self while I can.”</p> + +<p>Her light-heartedness was contagious, and it +wasn’t long before all three were chatting as +merrily as if no unscrupulous enemy were trying +to rob them of home and peace of mind.</p> + +<p>“There is one thing certain, grandfather,” said Norman, +“this Gunwad cannot say we robbed knowingly. +The good names of MacDonald and McNiel—”</p> + +<p>“Wheesht, ma laddie! wad ye mar the sunlicht +by the darkness o’ that name? Ye dinna ken what +ye say,” and as his transition from childlike grief +to childlike joy had been swift, so did he instantly +assume something of the fire of his earlier years. +The broad, high brow contracted with a frown, and +the deep, sunken eyes flashed with a lustre which +gave a wild appearance to his countenance, showing +the intensity of his pent-up feelings. The slim, +bony fingers clutched his staff closely, while he +brought it smartly down upon the floor.</p> + +<p>This sudden change in his demeanour frightened +Rilma, but Norman showed that he was prepared +for it. Instead of trembling for what he had said, +he exclaimed, boldly:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span></p> + +<p>“I am sorry to have pained you, grandfather, by +my words. Why is it you always fly into a rage +when father’s name— Please do not interrupt me, +or think me rude. I must speak and I will! I +claim the right to speak his name to you, who have +been so kind to me. You know I have persisted in +bearing it, when you have wished me to take that of +MacDonald. I do not love it less for that, neither +will I believe in the dishonour of McNiel until I +know some reason for doing so. You have never +allowed me to speak of father, but the time has come +when you must speak. I am old enough and brave +enough to know the truth, be it ever so dreadful. +Nothing can be worse to me than this bitter silence.”</p> + +<p>“Lad, hae I e’er been unkind to ye?”</p> + +<p>“You have been as kind as any father to Rilma +and me, dear grandfather, in everything but this +silence. I would not pain you for the world by +asking that which it seemed to me I had no right +to hear. But I do believe I ought to know this +secret hanging over my father’s name and mine, for +what he bore must I bear.”</p> + +<p>“Ye hae trouble enough o’ yer ain withoot that +that anither was only owergled tae lay doon. Lad, it +is better I remain silent as I hae sae lang.”</p> + +<p>“You wrong us all when you say that, grandfather. +It is your duty to tell; it is my duty and +Rilma’s to know. If you persist much longer in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>keeping it from me, I will learn it from some other +source, if I have to cross the sea and get it from +strangers. I have for some time been thinking of +asking it of you, and I feel that the occasion has +come. Now, under the cloud of this other oppression, +let me know all,—remember, be it ever so +shameful or ever so sad, <em>all</em>.”</p> + +<p>Robert MacDonald buried his face in his hands +and groaned aloud, saying, while his young companions +waited anxiously:</p> + +<p>“Alas! it never rains but it pours! Maun I tell +it? A’, Jeannette, ma ain wranged, kilt bairn, the +dearest, sweetest that e’er blessed a fond faither’s +heart, shall I speak anither word?”</p> + +<p>Then, as he lifted his head and met Norman’s +clear, unflinching gaze, and beheld Rilma’s innocent +surprise, his heart seemed to tell him it was right +that he should tell all.</p> + +<p>As he began, unheard and unobserved by the +three, the figure of the Woodranger appeared in +the doorway, he having drawn near with his natural +silence, but with no thought of listening to that +which might not concern him. At the sound of the +narrator’s voice he stopped, and something in the old +Highlander’s tones or words caused him to remain +motionless as a statue, his long rifle resting its butt +on the ground, while it supported on its muzzle the +forester’s bearded chin.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII"> + CHAPTER XIII. + <br> + <small>THE HONOUR OF THE McNIELS.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>“The McNiels are a bonnie race o’ men,” began +the old Highlander, “an’ those o’ them are yet +livin’ wha honour their memory. The braw Daniel, +then ane o’ the Council o’ Londonderry, writ the +resolutions o’ opposition tae the cowardly an’ treacherous +Lundy, governor of Ireland an’ tool in the +hauns o’ James, an’ which, signed by twenty ithers +o’ the council, was placarded in the public places an’ +read to the people, awakenin’ them tae that braw +defence o’ the cause. Frae him are ye descended, +Norman, wi’ the best bluid o’ the MacDonalds in +your veins.</p> + +<p>“Forgie an auld man’s weakness, ma laddie, but +it was a prood day when my Jeannette became the +bride o’ Archie McNiel, she ne’er dreamin’ o’ the +cloud sae low ower her happiness, nor I o’ the day +when I should speak the name in shame. I ne’er +minded my loneliness in seein’ her gang awa’ frae +the auld hame, for I had a son, Alick, the same age +as Archie, an’ he had come hame wi’ a bonnie bride. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>Weel micht I be prood o’ my Alick, for he was a +handsome lad, wi’ a’ the pride an’ bravery o’ his +grandfaither, the bauld but headstrong Chiel o’ +Glencoe.⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_1" href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> Yer grandmither, Heaven bless her +sainted memory, ne’er recovered from her terrible +experience in the mountain o’ Glencoe on that fearful +day. She died soon after yer mither was born, +leavin’ her a wee, wee bairn in ma airms.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p class="noi"><a id="Footnote_1_1" href="#FNanchor_1_1" class="label">[1]</a> A stalwart Highlander who led his clan against the English in +the bitter struggles of those times, until he and his followers were +completely routed, those who were not killed defending their homes +and loved ones, perishing in the mountains of hunger and cold. To +this day the wild, gloomy Pass of Glencoe, where this tragedy took +place, is fittingly known in the Gaelic tongue as the “Glen of +Weeping.” Among the few who escaped were Robert MacDonald, +the youngest son of the chief, and his young wife.</p> +</div> + +<p>“The same year this double marriage in ma familie +took place the good Faither MacGregor started wi’ +his flock for Ameriky, an’ at the same time cum +that awfu’ affair that finished wreckin’ an auld man’s +life.</p> + +<p>“The wicked James o’ England had deed in +France, but he had left a son, the Pretender, as +ilka ane cam’ to ca’ him, wha tried to carry oot +the plans o’ his faither. Twa years afore Faither +MacGregor an’ his pairty started for Ameriky, this +Pretender tried to stir up anither strife amang the +Scots, but miserably failed. But it cam’ oot that he +left ane ahint tae play the spy an’ betrayer. That +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>ane was Archie McNiel! God forgie that I should +be the ane to say it.</p> + +<p>“This traitor planned to hae the little band o’ +emigrants waylaid an’ slaughtered while on their +journey to the coast. But ane he took into his +confidence confessed the secret, and he was frustrated +in his evil ettle. In escapin’ he killed ane o’ +the pairty. A fugitive frae that day, withoot tellin’ +Jeannette o’ his infamous doings, he fled wi’ her tae +the highlands. While in his concealment, ma lad, +Alick, ran ower him quite accidental like. Thinkin’ +the braw laddie was after him, he killed his brother! +My bonnie boy lived long enough to reach hame an’ +tell me what his brother had done, an’ also telt me +that the ither had fa’en under his avengin’ blow.</p> + +<p>“In my double grief I searched for Jeannette, +until I succeeded in gettin’ her hame. She lived +only lang enough for ye tae be born, when her white +soul fled to whaur weepin’ is na kent. She deed o’ +grief an’ shame, Archie McNiel her murderer. Left +alane wi’ Mary an’ you, I lived for you twa until +Mary married again, an’ goin’ to her new hame left +Rilma, a bit o’ a bairn, in my keepin’. I ne’er wist +what become o’ her frae that day. In ma loneliness +I cam’ tae this country, hopin’ tae begin life anew, +and wi’ the sorrow left out.</p> + +<p>“There, ma braw laddie, ye hae the truth o’ him +wha should hae been the licht an’ strength o’ oor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>lives, but wha flung a’ awa’. Do you wonder I hate +him, him wha twa times took my ain life by killin’ +those dearest tae me? Ay, I’m an auld man noo, +but e’en in my weakness I rise to curse his name!”</p> + +<p>Here the narrator broke down, burying his face in +his hands, while he wept scalding tears. Norman +crossed to his side, and, gently raising his head, said, +softly:</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to have caused you so much pain, +grandfather. I am sorry for father’s sin. I am +sorry for poor mother,—for you,—for Rilma,—for +all. Now that I know the sad truth, we will let +the matter drop. Poor, misguided father, he must +have been deceived some way; but I promise you his +name shall not be spoken again.”</p> + +<p>At this juncture the Woodranger, who had remained +a silent listener to this pathetic story, turned +on his heel, and, with a look on his countenance no +man had ever seen, stole away as noiselessly as he +had come.</p> + +<p>When his grandfather had become more calm, +Norman told him of the forenoon’s adventure, +hoping thus to draw the other’s mind from the +affairs which it could be plainly seen were resting +heavily on his heart.</p> + +<p>“I am going up to see Archie Stark,” said +Norman, finally. “He can tell us better what to +do than any other man, and his advice will be more +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>trustworthy. His word will have more weight with +the others, too. So cheer up, grandfather, while I +am gone. I will be back soon. Rilma, you must +keep as still as possible. There, I won’t be away +long this time.”</p> + +<p>In order to keep even with the events as they +transpired, it will be necessary to mention a little +incident which occurred on that forenoon, before +continuing with the fortunes of Norman. Unknown +to him, Mr. MacDonald had not been the only one +Gunwad and his companion had come to Namaske to +see on that summer day. On leaving the old Highlander, +they sought a humble cabin on the bank of +a small stream tributary to the Merrimack River, and +known to this day in memory of its dusky occupant, +at that time the sole survivor in the vicinity of the +once powerful confederacy of the Pennacooks.</p> + +<p>The two approached the bark dwelling with all +the caution of hunters on the trail. Gunwad’s companion +led the way, dodging from tree to tree, or +crawling on his hands and knees through the undergrowth, +where it was thick enough to conceal his +form, the deer reeve imitating his example. Why +the twain should have adopted this cautious way of +reaching the humble home of the solitary Indian, +in a time of peace, can only be explained by the fact +that both were arrant cowards. Christian, or Christo, +as his name had been shortened, was what was known +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>as a “praying Indian,” and on amicable terms with +the white settlers. Still, there were always those +who were so prejudiced against the race as not to +believe one of them under any circumstance. So +Christo had a hard time of it, though he went about +his simple methods of getting a living with apparent +unconcern.</p> + +<p>Gunwad now bore in his pocket a warrant for +Christo’s arrest for shooting deer out of season. +Having failed in proving his charge against Norman, +and remembering what the Woodranger had said +about the bullet found in the deer belonging to +an Indian, he had lost no time in seeking his capture. +This Pennacook being the only red man +known to be in the vicinity, he felt sure he was +on the right track this time. He had, in his own +mind, two reasons for this cautious way of attack. +He was afraid, if he gave the Indian the opportunity, +he might resist, or else take to the forest, and thus +escape.</p> + +<p>The deer reeve, after half an hour’s loss of time, +found that he and his companion had taken their +trouble for nothing. Upon closer approach, the rude +dwelling gave every appearance of being empty.</p> + +<p>“He may be hidin’ inside, ready to shoot us down +in cold blood,” declared the deer reeve, with a +shudder.</p> + +<p>“The bird has flown,” said the other. “There’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>no doubt of that,” starting boldly toward the +wigwam.</p> + +<p>“I might have known he would take advantage o’ +the time thet young refugee cost me,” muttered +Gunwad, following at the other’s heels. “Let’s +look in an’ see ef there’s enny trace o’ the red +rascal.”</p> + +<p>A few primitive cooking utensils, an old net for +catching fish, a pair of discarded moccasins, and +a pile of boughs in one corner were about all that +caught the gaze of the intruders.</p> + +<p>“He’s gone, sure ’nough,” acknowledged Gunwad. +“So has my share in the reward. They’re bound to +beat me out’n it. But the redskin, if he ever dares +to come back, shall pay dearly for the trouble he has +made me. It’ll add interest, too, to my ’count with +them Scot refugees, or I don’t know black from +white. Let’s git back to Cohas.”</p> + +<p>As nothing better could be done, the couple +started for the lower end of the town, Gunwad but +poorly satisfied with the result of his visit, though +he was well pleased with the fright he had given Mr. +MacDonald.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV"> + CHAPTER XIV. + <br> + <small>NORMAN WORKS IN A STUMP-FIELD.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Norman made a wiser choice than he realised at +the time in seeking Mr. Archibald Stark, or “Old +Archie,” as he was generally called, though he was +then only forty-seven years old. This Mr. Stark, +the father of Johnny, who figured in our hero’s +adventure with the wildcats, was a native of Glasgow, +Scotland. When a young man he had emigrated +to this country, settling first in Nutfield, but afterward +moving to Old Harrytown, upon a lot he had +bought of a grantee of the Massachusetts province. +The Stark homestead contained about five hundred +acres of land, of better quality than the land below +it, and extended for about half a mile along the east +bank of the river above the falls. Mr. Stark was +an educated man, and his wife a beautiful, kind-hearted +woman. They had seven children, four boys +and three girls, and as there were no schools in the +vicinity at that time, these were taught at home. It +was under that kindly and unselfish instruction John +Stark got the education which was so much help to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>him in the important part he was to act in the coming +wars against Indians and foreign enemies.</p> + +<p>Imbued with the true spirit of progress and a +hard worker, Mr. Stark was the best farmer in Harrytown. +He had chosen his location with happier +results than many of the Tyng men, who had been +obliged to get theirs by lot, and he bent his whole +attention to improving his land, and gave but little +time to fishing and hunting.</p> + +<p>“The abundance of fish in the river and game in the +woods,” he used to say, “is both a blessing and a +curse to the settlers. It is a blessing, as it affords +a means of sustenance to some who might go hungry; +a curse, as many spend their time on the hunt when +they should be improving the soil and their homes. +The spade and the hoe are the staffs of life, not the +fishing-pole and the gun. Living by the hunt is well +enough for the savages, but it is not the true way +for civilised people. I am sorry that my boys have +such an inclination for living in the woods. I do +believe that Johnny had rather tramp all day through +the wilderness in pursuit of a deer than to eat a good +meal of victuals when he is hungry.”</p> + +<p>Norman found Mr. Stark at work, with his two +older boys, William and Johnny, on a new lot he +was clearing off. Johnny was driving a yoke of +oxen, “twitching off” some fallen trees, which had +to be drawn together to be burned.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span></p> + +<p>Archie Stark and Mr. MacDonald had been on +intimate terms ever since the latter had come to +Harrytown, and he was perfectly familiar with the +old Highlander’s sorrows and anxieties. He knew +the sad story of the massacre of Glencoe, as well as +the siege of Londonderry, and even of the mistaken +course of Archie McNiel, though he never hinted +of the latter to Norman, whom he respected none +the less for the mistakes of his parent. His greeting, +on this August afternoon, was in keeping with his +genial nature:</p> + +<p>“Ho, me lad! come to give an old man a lift? I +was thinking of you this morning and wondering +where I could find a likelier lad to help me clear +away these stumps and trees, so as to get this into +fit mowage. I tell you, my lad, it has got to be +done, let them fish who will. Civilised men and +women need bread and butter, and oxen and cows +must have hay these long, cold winters. I’ll give +you three shillings a day. Is it a bargain?”</p> + +<p>Three shillings is equal to seventy-five cents, as +we reckon it, but colonial money of those days was +of less value than the pound sterling of Great +Britain, which would reduce that amount to about +fifty cents a day.</p> + +<p>Though this offer had come most unexpectedly to +Norman, it instantly appealed to his judgment as an +opportunity too good to be lost.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span></p> + +<p>“I thank you, Mr. Stark; I think I will accept. +But I must free my mind of another matter before +I can begin work. I am sorry to—”</p> + +<p>“Tut—tut, lad! don’t let any excuses trouble +you. Take a seat on this fallen tree and tell me all +about it. It is always best to have a free mind. +It is too hot this weather to keep at it all the time. +Let the oxen rest, Johnny. Billy, you run down to +the spring and get a gourd of cool water. Now, go +ahead, my lad, and mind you make a clean breast +of it.”</p> + +<p>Encouraged with these kindly words, Norman at +once began his account of the shooting of the deer, +and of Gunwad’s subsequent course of action, the +other listening without interruption until he had +finished.</p> + +<p>“Well, lad,” said Mr. Stark, “I can see why you +worry; but cast that off. I am willing to allow that +this Gunwad has it in his power to work you evil, if +his plans succeed. You, or your grandfather, which +amounts to the same, got your lot of a New Hampshire +grantee, while I got mine of a Massachusetts +party, one of which had just about as good a title +as the other. But you are in the way of these Tyng +colonists. This Gunwad has bought the right or +title, or whatever you may call it, of the Tyng man +who drew that lot. Now he, Gunwad, claims it, and +warns you off. Several others have done the same, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>and cases are in the court unsettled. In fact, they +cannot be settled until this boundary line has been +settled. If the lower province (Massachusetts) +makes good her claim, you will have to lose your +home, always supposing you will get a little for +improvements.”</p> + +<p>“So you advise grandfather and me to move +away?”</p> + +<p>“Hold right on, lad! I advise nothing of the kind. +These Tyng grantees have shouldered a burden they +little thought of at the outset. Though they are +carrying matters with a high hand now, it is by no +means certain they are going to win in the end. +Candidly, I do not think Gunwad’s warning will +amount to much at this time. At the next Proprietors’ +Meeting a vote may be passed to sustain such +action, for he will have the township behind him. +But even then, with the boundary line settled to +their satisfaction, there is something concerned with +their success here which few seem to have taken +into serious consideration. In getting these grants +the colonists have certain conditions to carry out, in +order to hold their title. They have got to build +a house of seven foot stud, that is wall, and eighteen +feet square; have got to clear four acres of ground +and help build a church within four years. Now +none of these conditions were complied with by the +grantee of the lot you occupy. Neither has Tyng +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>Township yet built any meeting-house or settled +a minister, though they can be excused for this on +account of the failure of any one to raise a mill, as +was expected. The mill is now nearly done, and I +expect the lumber will be sawed in season to build +the meeting-house this fall. I mention these facts +that you may understand the exact situation. Within +a year I believe this boundary dispute will be settled +for ever. If Massachusetts loses, these grants of +Harrytown will not be worth a fig to these Tyng +men.”</p> + +<p>“What will happen then?” asked Norman.</p> + +<p>“The Scotch-Irish grant from New Hampshire +will hold the territory, all except the reserve about +Namaske. Your homestead comes in that territory, +but I think you will have no trouble. I have been +studying the situation considerably, and these are +my honest convictions. Wait and see what Gunwad’s +next move will be. Now I come back to my +question. Are you going to help me this month, +beginning to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad to do so, as there is not more at +home than grandfather can do.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad of it, as I want to get this lot cleared +before the fall rains. I mean to sow a piece of winter +rye. And while you are coming here to work, and +after, I want Rilma to attend our studies. She can go +home with you, if she comes up in the afternoon.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span></p> + +<p>Norman thanked Mr. Stark for his kindness, and +returned home in better spirits than when he had +left. His report, too, awakened the hopes of Mr. +MacDonald.</p> + +<p>The following morning he began work in Mr. +Stark’s stump-field, beginning by driving the oxen to +draw off the fallen trees and uproot the stumps, +learning a lesson of patience and fortitude from +those useful creatures he never forgot.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stark worked busily in the new clearing with +his help, always willing to take hold of the butt end +of the log if it happened to come nearest to him. +Nothing seemed to fret him, except a shirk. He +despised a lazy person.</p> + +<p>On the second day that Norman worked for him +Zack Bitlock came shambling into the lot, to begin +work. He was still barefooted, his lank figure +clothed in earth-coloured shirt and trousers. He +was accompanied by a youth of fifteen, the exact +counterpart of the father, even to the bare feet, the +sunburned face, the shirt and trousers. He led, by a +piece of deer thong, a lean, lank dog, clay-coloured, +like the clothes of its master. Its most remarkable +feature was its ears, which were of such enormous +size as to flop up and down with a sort of “gushy” +noise as the creature jogged along at the heels of its +human companions.</p> + +<p>“Gol dang yit, ’squire!” greeted the new arrival, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>Goodman Bitlock, senior, “seen the cur’usist sight +an’ heerd the cur’usist noise down yander on th’ sand +piles ye ever sot eyes an’ ears on. Me an’ Lige an’ +th’ tarnal dorg—Lige w’u’d take ther critter erlong—wuz +comin’ erlong when th’ dolefulest sound ye +ever sot hearin’ on come frum th’ side o’ th’ road. +Sez I to Lige, sez I: ‘Wot in creation mought thet +be?’ An’ th’ dorg pricked up his ears, an’ when +thet dorg pricks up his ears set yit down fer good +an’ all there’s sumthin’ round!</p> + +<p>“Wul, Lige an’ me looked, but all I c’u’d see was +a leetle albiner squirrel a-sottin’ on th’ sand pile, but +I c’u’d see th’ leetle runt wuz cryin’ so yit had los’ +yit’s pa an’ ma an’ other ’lations. I wuz natcherly +struck by yits ’pearance, an’ I says, says I:</p> + +<p>“‘Whut’s th’ tarnal trubble, leetle feller?’</p> + +<p>“Then th’ poo’ thing rubbed th’ tears erway with +one fore paw, an’ yit says, says yit:</p> + +<p>“‘Mister, ye air kind, but ye can’t hel’ me.’</p> + +<p>“‘But I can show ye my good-will,’ says I, I says, +‘so pipe erhead, my eetle fri’nd.’</p> + +<p>“Then yit give yits big, sorrerful eyes anuther dab +with yits paw, an’ says, says yit:</p> + +<p>“‘Ye can’t hel’ me, mister. Me pa died yesterday +an’ he willed me th’ hull o’ Ol’ Harrytown, but +yit wuz with th’ perwision thet I live in yit, an’ I,’ +givin’ ernuther dab fer yits eye with yits paw, ‘<em>I hev +got to starve to death!</em>’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span></p> + +<p>“Gol dang ef I don’t think thet poo’ albiner wuz +erbout right. Ef we don’t all starve to death on +these sand heaps yit’ll be becos we hev got so dried +up thet th’ wind will blow us erway.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a pretty good story, Zack,” declared Mr. +Stark. “If you were as good in breaking in stump-land +as you are at story-telling, you would be worth +your wages.”</p> + +<p>“Which is saying as much thet I ain’t now. Go +erlong, ’squire, ef I weren’t so tarnal good-natured +I’d git mad.”</p> + +<p>Norman had now turned the oxen over to Johnny +Stark, and with Goodman Bitlock was helping Mr. +Stark fell the big trees growing on the edge of the +clearing, which the owner wished to make larger. +These pines, many of them of huge size, after being +felled had to have their branches cut away, so the +cattle could pull them together. In some cases they +had to be chopped in twain before the stout oxen +could draw them. Those best suited to his purpose +Mr. Stark was saving to be hewn for the timbers of +a sawmill he was intending to build at an early day.</p> + +<p>Lige Bitlock, though he was older and bigger than +the Stark boys, did not offer to do any work. He +spent the most of his time following his dog through +the adjacent growth, or fishing from the bank of the +river.</p> + +<p>“If I had such a shiftless boy as that of yours, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>Goodman Bitlock,” said Mr. Stark, bluntly, “I’d tie +a deer thong around his neck and throw him over the +falls.”</p> + +<p>“Go easy, ’squire, go easy. Thet boy ain’t no +fool, an’ he says, says he, he’s goin’ to make a big +hunter like Woodranger.”</p> + +<p>“Got a mighty poor showing, then. What would +a whole regiment of Woodrangers amount to? The +more we have of such men the less there is done in +improvement.”</p> + +<p>“Woodranger fit with Lovewell,” replied Bitlock, +in whose mind such a deed made a man a hero fit to +worship afar off. “If my Lige c’u’d ’a’ fit with +Lovewell—”</p> + +<p>“He’d been killed long before this, and that would +have been a wise dispensation of Providence to get +rid of refuse matter. But if he is so smart I want +him to go down to Mr. Perham’s, and get my long +deer rope which he borrowed more than six months +ago. I do wish men would return as readily as they +borrow. We shall need the line in pulling over the +leaning pine up yonder. It will give the oxen more +than they can pull if it falls back over the ridge.”</p> + +<p>“Is th’ rope heavy, ’squire?”</p> + +<p>“Weighs about half a ton! Perhaps you think +Johnny had better go along with him. I can’t spare +him. If I could I would send him alone. The oxen +must be kept to work.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span></p> + +<p>“Why can’t Archie go?” asked Bitlock.</p> + +<p>Archie was two years younger than Johnny, and, +as he was not at work, his father did not object +to his going.</p> + +<p>“Min’ ye, Lige, ye come right back,” said his +father. “Don’t go off inter th’ woods, ’cos ye know +erbout thet wildcat screech we heerd.”</p> + +<p>Lige promised to return as quickly as possible, +and with his dog at his side, and little Archie Stark +following behind, he set out down the road.</p> + +<p>“Dunno but I oughter gone with thet boy,” muttered +Bitlock, as he gazed after his hopeful son, +scratching his head with sluggish movements. After +standing five minutes looking vacantly at the space +where he had last seen Lige, Goodman Bitlock leisurely +picked up his axe, and, after spending five minutes +more in flicking off an accumulation of dirt with +a pine bough, he got to work again.</p> + +<p>When it was getting to be time for the boys to +return, he began to cast anxious glances down the +road, until he was startled by the sight of a well-known +figure approaching at a swift run. It was +Lige, and he was startled because it was unusual to +see him running at that rate, unless he was in pursuit +of a squirrel or some frightened denizen of the +woods. Lige showed, too, that he was labouring +under great excitement, while his dog kept close +beside him, uttering quick, short yelps.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span></p> + +<p>“Why! whut’s happened now?” cried Bitlock, +dropping his axe, and standing with extended arms +and wide-opened mouth. “Whut’s scart ye so, +Lige?”</p> + +<p>By this time all in the clearing had stopped work, +to learn what the trouble was.</p> + +<p>“I ain’t scart, dad!” replied Lige, as soon as he +could get his breath enough to speak. “I ain’t a +bit scart, dad; and I’ve come right back, as ye tole +me.”</p> + +<p>Goodman Bitlock drew a breath of relief, while +the others resumed work. The proud father said, in +a complimentary tone:</p> + +<p>“Ye’re a smart boy, Lige, an’ ye’ll ermount to +sumthin’. How ye mus’ hev run to git hyur so +soon.”</p> + +<p>“I did, dad.”</p> + +<p>He said nothing of Archie or the rope, and Mr. +Stark, thinking his son would soon appear with the +deer thong, asked no questions, until five minutes +had passed without bringing the missing boy.</p> + +<p>“We want that rope,” declared Mr. Stark, impatiently. +“Why didn’t you bring it along, Lige?”</p> + +<p>“I left it with Arch.”</p> + +<p>“Where is Archie?”</p> + +<p>“With th’ rope, mister. I had to run to get hyur +right back.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Stark grumbled a little because of the non-appearance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>of Archie, but for fifteen minutes more +nothing wrong was suspected. Then, upon being +questioned more closely, Lige blurted out:</p> + +<p>“I don’t know but th’ b’ar eat him up! I had to +run ’way from him to git right back.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Stark’s inquiries grew more pointed, and the +frightened youth explained that a big bear had +attacked them, and that he had barely escaped by +running for his life.</p> + +<p>“And what has become of my poor boy?” cried +the distracted father.</p> + +<p>Though realising that it was too late to save +Archie, if he had fallen into the clutches of the +bear, Mr. Stark, Norman, and the others at once +started down the road as fast as they could run.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV"> + CHAPTER XV. + <br> + <small>HANGING A BEAR.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Meanwhile what has happened to little Archie +Stark? Bears, as well as other wild beasts, were +prowling about in the forests, often coming very near +to the scattered dwellings of the pioneers, and at that +season of the year were inclined to be ugly. If Archie +had met one there was small chance that his father +and friends would find him alive. This was the more +certain from the fact that fully half an hour had +elapsed since Lige Bitlock had returned to the +clearing, and they would have a mile to go before +reaching the scene of his peril, according to the +frightened youth’s incoherent report.</p> + +<p>The boys had made the journey to Mr. Perham’s +in safety, and, getting the rope, started on their return +with as little delay as possible. As the long line of +deer thong was quite heavy, they took turns in carrying +it, Lige having the first task at lugging.</p> + +<p>No sooner had Archie taken the rope than, notwithstanding +his repeated promises to his father +about getting “right back,” Lige began to leave the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>road at intervals, to make détours into the adjoining +forest, always led in these wanderings by his dog, +Pluck. Archie remonstrated with him in vain, trying +to frighten him by declaring that he would start up +a wildcat or a bear.</p> + +<p>“I sh’u’d jes’ like to scare up a cat an’ see Pluck +pull its fur! Dad says there is one on th’ island an’—hark! +thet dorg has scart up sumthin’! When thet +dorg barks it means sumthin’!” and he bounded in +the direction of the sound.</p> + +<p>But Lige Bitlock had not fairly vanished from +sight before he reappeared with redoubled speed, the +yelping dog close beside him. At the same time was +heard the crashing of a huge body lumbering through +the undergrowth at their heels.</p> + +<p>“A b’ar!” yelled Lige, “a b’ar! Run fer yer life, +Arch!”</p> + +<p>It proved that the dog had run upon a couple of +cubs in the woods, but it had scarcely begun to bark +at them before the old mother bear appeared. Now +a bear is not the most ferocious creature in the +world if not aroused by some unusual action. But +a mother bear, filled with the idea that harm is threatening +her cubs, is about as ugly a customer as any +one could wish to meddle with. Lige Bitlock was +prudent to flee, but he was a coward to leave his +younger friend to the mercy of the enraged beast.</p> + +<p>In order to carry the rope with as much ease as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>possible, Archie had coiled it about his shoulders. +When he saw the brute rushing toward him he +found it difficult to free himself from his burden +without stopping in his flight. So he was obliged +to flee, his speed greatly retarded by the coil of deer +thong. He called to his companion, but Lige, looking +back over his shoulder, and seeing the bear close +on Archie, sped away faster than before, while his +dog, Pluck, proved itself anything but true to its +name.</p> + +<p>Archie quickly realised that he could not outrun +the bear, though he was favoured in his flight by +the fact that one of the cubs, which kept beside its +mother, was continually getting in the clumsy creature’s +way, thus checking her pursuit. He was a +brave boy, and determined to fight for his life when +he found that further flight was useless. Seeing a +chestnut-tree standing a short distance back from +the road, and with branches coming down within +easy reach, he resolved to try and climb it before the +bear should overtake him.</p> + +<p>Accordingly he plunged through the brushwood, +and, quickly reaching the tree, seized one of the lower +limbs, and swung himself up just as the brute snapped +at his bare feet. It was a narrow escape, but, having +fairly got into the chestnut, he ascended like a squirrel +to the top. There he paused for his first breathing +spell, and to see what the bear would do next.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span></p> + +<p>Not to be cheated of its prey, the aroused creature, +after giving a furious growl, began to climb the tree +with a celerity wonderful for one so clumsy in its +movements on the ground. As she mounted higher +and higher, Archie began to tremble lest she should +reach him. So up he went, until the branches became +so slender and pliant as almost to refuse to +bear his weight. Surely the bear could not reach +him there.</p> + +<p>After gaining a perch as high as she could very well +get, the bear stopped, glaring up fiercely at him and +renewing her savage grunts and growls. She was +within eight or ten feet of him, and Archie was desperate. +He felt that he must surely be caught, as +she soon began to ascend still higher, the chestnut +swaying far over on one side, as her ponderous body +rose.</p> + +<p>But Mistress Bruin had really climbed as high as +she could. After a few futile attempts to reach her +victim, she settled back into her resting-place, and +resumed her threatening cries.</p> + +<p>Thinking that at the worst he would only be compelled +to remain there until friends should come to +his rescue, Archie was beginning to feel hopeful, +when the bear began new tactics, which were to +prove more dangerous than any before.</p> + +<p>She began to shake the tree vigorously, and the +whole top of the chestnut shook as if assailed by +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>a September gale. At the outset Archie was nearly +flung from his precarious perch. Soon succeeding +in getting a firmer hold, he held on for dear life, until +the bear stopped, grunting and threatening to renew +her attacks.</p> + +<p>He was so high in the air that he knew a fall to +the ground meant broken limbs, if not instant death. +He could not pass the bear, so that escape was cut +off. During the brief respite allowed him his mind +was very active, until he believed he had hit upon +a plan which might enable him to escape. He could +not be any worse off if it failed.</p> + +<p>He still carried the rope coiled about his shoulders, +and he at once began to remove it, the bear +watching his work with evident curiosity, growling +occasionally, and trying to reach the line with one of +her fore paws. He wasn’t a great while in getting +the line free, and, calculating on the length needed +for his purpose, he proceeded to fasten that part to +the trunk of the chestnut, as far below him as he +could without getting in reach of the watchful +brute. Then he made a running noose in the opposite +end of the thong, being careful to see that the +loop would slip freely.</p> + +<p>With an earnestness a human being might have +exhibited the bear continued to watch him, abandoning +for the time her attacks on the tree. As Archie +lowered the noose toward her she snapped at it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>furiously, and, missing it, snarled and tried to hit +it with her paw.</p> + +<p>Anxiously Archie waited his opportunity, allowing +the line to dangle above her head, though careful to +keep it just out of her reach. By and by she +seemed to lose interest in it, and renewed her +assaults on the chestnut, more determined than ever, +it seemed, to accomplish her intentions.</p> + +<p>The critical moment for the brave boy had come, +and, not without many misgivings as to the result, +and holding to his precarious perch with one hand, +as she began her vigorous shaking <a href="#i_fp144">Archie improved +his opportunity to drop the noose over her head.</a> +So adroitly did he perform this act that the stout +line fell fairly above her big neck.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp144"> + <img src="images/i_fp144.jpg" alt="" title=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_144">“ARCHIE IMPROVED HIS OPPORTUNITY TO DROP THE + NOOSE OVER HER HEAD.”</a></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>The moment she felt the line straighten she +stopped her attack, and tried to free herself from +the entangling rope. Finding herself unable to do +that, the brute became enraged, and loosened one +paw from the tree to seize on the offending object. +The movement was fatal to her. Archie, watching +his time, gave the tree a vigorous shake, feeling that +it was his turn. The result surprised even him. +The huge beast suddenly lost her hold, and, with +a furious growl, went crashing down through the +thick branches.</p> + +<p>At first Archie’s heart was filled with fear. He +thought he had miscalculated the length of the rope, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>and that the bear would fall to the ground before +reaching its limit. Then he was frightened lest the +rope should break. These thoughts flew rapidly +through his mind. Then there came a shock which +nearly threw him from the tree. As soon as it had +passed he looked anxiously downward, to see a dark +form struggling in mid-air a few feet above the +ground. It was the bear, which soon became quite +motionless. He could hardly credit his eyes, but +upon looking a second time he found the huge +carcass still there, helpless now.</p> + +<p>The danger over, Archie felt very weak from +reaction after the excitement, and as he descended +the tree he came near losing his hold several times. +But that was really no evidence of fear. He had +shown himself extremely courageous in the moment +of great peril, and had acted with wonderful fortitude +and forethought.</p> + +<p>The dead bear’s cubs were whining piteously +under the tree, trying in vain to reach the lifeless +form of their mother dangling above their heads. +Archie watched his opportunity to drop to the +ground beyond their clutch, not knowing but they +might make him trouble in their distracted state.</p> + +<p>A minute later he was running up the road as +fast as he could go, though with different feelings +stirring his bosom from those which had caused +Lige Bitlock to use his long legs in covering the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>ground. After running a short distance he slackened +his speed to a walk, and he was pursuing his +way in this deliberate manner when he was discovered +by his father and the others. At sight of +him Mr. Stark ran forward and clasped him in his +arms, with terms of endearment.</p> + +<p>Showing considerable surprise at this greeting, +Archie broke loose, saying:</p> + +<p>“Did you get tired of waiting for the rope, father? +I had to leave it in the chestnut, but if you will let +me have your stout knife I can soon get it for you.”</p> + +<p>“My bonnie boy! what has happened? The bear—where +is it?”</p> + +<p>“Hanging high and dry, father, in the old chestnut +in the hollow. Hilloa, Lige! I see you got +home all right!”</p> + +<p>Then, upon being questioned, Archie told his story +in a modest way, and was at once the hero of the +hour. Around the Stark hearthstone that evening +bear stories were the one absorbing topic of conversation. +The skin of Mistress Bruin was kept for +many years in the family, as a memento of her +youthful conqueror.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stark had been so wrought up over the affair +that he declared no more work should be done that +day. But, as it was then half past five, Norman did +not feel that he was losing very much time. As +Rilma came daily to recite her lessons, he waited as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>usual to go home with her. No sister could have +been dearer to him than she, and those walks were +never forgotten, when in later life they were both +called into the midst of more exciting scenes. She +delighted to go over with him her studies, gathering +new light and interest from his kindly suggestions, +while he told her whatever of interest had happened +to him during the day. And dull and dreary +as were those hours of toil in the stump-field, he +found many an incident which pleased her.</p> + +<p>One evening he had to tell her that Gunwad had +been seen in the neighbourhood of Christo’s lone +cabin, but they felt easier when they found that he +had not been at their home.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he will not try to harm us again,” she +said.</p> + +<p>“We will hope not,” he replied, though he knew +only too well that such a hope was vain. The unprincipled +deer reeve was not one to give up so easily.</p> + +<p>His worst fears were realised a week later, when, +as he and Rilma were returning from Mr. Stark’s, +they heard the sound of angry voices, as they approached +their home. There was no mistaking the +speakers. The first was their grandfather, whose +tone, as well as words, showed that he was in a +raging passion:</p> + +<p>“Out o’ ma house, ye uncanny fule, afore I brak’ +this staff ower yer thick heid!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span></p> + +<p>The reply was Gunwad’s, lower, and with an +aggravating inflection in the speech:</p> + +<p>“Lay so much as a finger on me ef ye dare, ye ol’ +Scot refugee. I say, strike me ef ye dare, ye cowardly +furriner!”</p> + +<p>“I must get there before grandfather strikes him, +or it will fare ill with us,” cried Norman, rushing +toward the house at the top of his speed.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI"> + CHAPTER XVI. + <br> + <small>GUNWAD TAKES DECISIVE ACTION.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Though expecting to meet an exciting scene, +Norman was not prepared for the startling tableau +which greeted his gaze as he bounded into the house. +Two men, companions of Gunwad, stood like guards +at the door, while the deer reeve had advanced to +the opposite side of the room, and was shaking +his fist in Mr. MacDonald’s face. The latter, who +had allowed all the intense passion of his nature to +assert itself, had retreated to the corner, and was in +the act of bringing his stout staff down on the head +of his tormentor.</p> + +<p>With an exclamation of warning, Norman sprang +between the two, catching his grandfather’s uplifted +arm in an attempt to turn the intended blow from +the deer reeve. He succeeded in his purpose at +the cost of a stinging stroke on his own shoulder, +caused by a sudden turning of the cane.</p> + +<p>“Don’t strike him, grandfather!” he cried. “Be +calm; don’t you see it is his desire to make you do +him harm, and then—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span></p> + +<p>“Stand aside, lad! nae sic a dog insults me in my +ain hoose! Let me get but ae whack at him, lad!”</p> + +<p>“No—no, grandfather! you must not so much as +touch him. Goodman Gunwad, please leave this +house at once. Grandfather is an old man and so +broken down as not to be himself. When he has +recovered from the excitement your visit has given +him we will talk with you. But now, please spare +him.”</p> + +<p>Norman’s appearance had been so sudden and +unexpected that the two men in the doorway had +not yet comprehended the situation, while it was +not until he had finished speaking that the deer +reeve recovered sufficiently to say a word. Then he +exclaimed, in his blustering way:</p> + +<p>“So—so, my Scotch bantam! so ye pick up th’ +quarrel? Jest lay a hand on me ef ye wanter. I +kem hyur peaceful to ask th’ ol’ furriner when he +was goin’ to git out’n my house, and he flew at me +like a cat. Be keerful how ye use me,” retreating +a step, as Norman started forward, showing by his +manner that he had no fear for the other. “Here, +Holster, Lawton, don’t let the hot-headed Scotchmen +kill me. They air two to one.”</p> + +<p>“I am not going to lay a hand on you, Goodman +Gunwad, if you will go your way peacefully,” said +Norman, as the deer reeve’s companions advanced +into the centre of the room.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span></p> + +<p>“It’s ernough thet ye hev threatened me, an’ I +can prove it. I order you, Holster and Lawton, to +take th’ ripscallion off. The sooner these furriners +air driven out o’ Tyngstown th’ better ’twill be fer +all honest people.”</p> + +<p>“You shall not lay a hand on grandfather,” cried +Norman, as the man called Holster again moved +forward. “If grandfather has offered to do one of +you harm it was because you drove him to it. I—”</p> + +<p>“Bah!” exclaimed Gunwad, “I ain’t foolin’ +round hyur fer nothin’. Pull ’em both—”</p> + +<p>Though no one had heard the approach of a newcomer, +a shadow at that moment fell across the +pathway of the irate deer reeve, and he stopped in +the midst of his excited speech as the stalwart figure +of the Woodranger confronted him.</p> + +<p>“So you are stirring a bit o’ an amazement, Gunwad?” +demanded the forester, sternly. “Sich +conduct on your part seems ill-timed to me, who is +not an adept in the wanton ways o’ men. What +would you have with this old man and the lad?”</p> + +<p>“I want ’em to git out’n my house! I jes’ come +civil like, armed with proper authority, and this +youngster has sassed me and th’ ol’ man has tried +to club me. I can prove it by my friends here.”</p> + +<p>“No matter about that. Did my ears hear aright, +or was it the whispering o’ a pine, which said that +this is your abode?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span></p> + +<p>“I said plain ernough thet this is <em>my</em> house! I +own this lot, seein’ I come into fair possession by +law. I bought it of one of the grantees of Tyng +Township, of which this is a part. There was no +trouble till those ’demned furriners kem hyur.”</p> + +<p>“Easy, Gunwad, easy! When you talk o’ furriners +you hit us all on the head. It is only the poor +red man who can say that, and not many o’ them, +seeing the way we’ve kicked ’em from our path, as +we would dead leaves. It is them as have reason +to complain.”</p> + +<p>“Ye know well ernough what I mean, Woodranger. +It’s these miserable Scotch intruders.”</p> + +<p>“Who got here afore you did, Gunwad. It may +be, without wishing to be other than neutral in a +flame which should never have been kindled, that I +have—”</p> + +<p>“How long has it been sence ye hev sided with +these dogs?” broke in the deer reeve. “So ye hev +been a snake in—”</p> + +<p>“Be keerful, Gunwad!” warned the forester, this +last statement being more than he could listen to in +silence. “Be keerful and not awaken an old man’s +ire. A snake in the grass, never! I seek no quarrel +with man, and I find none in the free domain o’ +natur’. It is only where the contentions o’ civilisation +come that men get at cross purposes. I ’low +that wild creeturs fight, but that should be a lesson +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>to man and not an example. Don’t you so much as +lay a finger on the old man, Gunwad, or I shall forget +my prudence.”</p> + +<p>Woodranger showed that he was making a mighty +effort to keep his feelings under control, while he +appeared unusually excited. Gunwad feared him, +and yet with his two companions behind him, and, +what he considered of greater benefit, the law, he +tried to think he had nothing to fear. Happily for +him, the man named Lawton came to his assistance +at that moment.</p> + +<p>“You forget the notice I have to read, Gunwad. +Perhaps that will bring them to their senses.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, read the document, Lawton,” said Gunwad, +with a look of relief. “Mebbe that will bring ’em +to their senses.”</p> + +<p>By this time Lawton had produced from his pocket +a formidable-looking paper, which he quickly unfolded +and began to read:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“‘At a meeting of the Proprietors of Tyng +Township, so called, regularly warned and assembled +at the house of Mr. Isaac Farwell, Innholder, in +Dunstable, the 21st of August, 1740:</p> + +<p>“‘Voted that those persons whose lands in said +township and part of the original Proprietary are +trespassed upon, or are possessed by any person +claiming them under grant from New Hampshire, +shall within three months from this meeting prosecute +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>such persons, who are and be deprived for the +future of any benefit or assistance from the Proprietary +in the defence or recovery of any such lands.</p> + +<p>“‘Also voted that Messrs. Ephraim Hildreth, +William Lawton, and Joseph Blanchard be a Committee +fully empowered and directed at the charge of +this Proprietary (by taking a legal owner) to assist +in suing and defending in any action commenced +or to be commenced of trespass or ejectment for or +against any person or persons in trial of the title or +trespass, as aforesaid, on any land belonging to the +Proprietary or grantee. Thereof said Committee, or +any one of them, are directed also at the cost of +the Proprietary that if Proprietor, as aforesaid, be +arrested and carried into the Province of New +Hampshire⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_2" href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> by any writ or process for improving on +their lands there to redeem them from such arrests +or arrest, and to take a power of attorney to appear +in their names to prosecute and defend in any matter, +jointly or severally according to the whole tenor of +this vote.</p> + +<p class="noi">“‘[Signed]</p> + +<p class="right"> + <span style="margin-right: 1.0em;">“‘<span class="smcap">Ephraim Hildreth</span>,</span><br> + <span style="margin-right: 1.5em;">“‘<span class="smcap">William Lawton</span>,</span><br> + “‘<span class="smcap">Joseph Blanchard</span>.’”</p> +</blockquote> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p class="noi"><a id="Footnote_2_2" href="#FNanchor_2_2" class="label">[2]</a> Tyng Township was claimed to belong to Massachusetts.</p> +</div> + +<p>“What d’ye think o’ thet?” demanded Gunwad, +triumphantly, as the other finished reading. “I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>reckon thet settles matters at one clip. I’ve got the +province o’ Massachusetts and good King George +the Second behind me.”</p> + +<p>“It is not for me, who is better varsed in the +open ways o’ the free woods to dissemble, Gunwad, +and I must confess that the course taken by the new +town is most ill considered. I’m afeerd they will +see disappointment soon, and have reason to regret +such thoughtless—”</p> + +<p>“Air ye a fool or crazy, Woodranger? We’ll hev +every furriner out o’ Tyngstown inside a year. Thet +new law jes’ fixes every one o’ ’em, and I ain’t goin’ to +let my chance slip. I shall hev to ax ye to step one side.”</p> + +<p>“Not to allow you to harm a hair on the head o’ +this old, innocent man, who never wronged—”</p> + +<p>“So ye stan’ in fer him? Holster and Lawton, +take keer o’ him an’ I’ll throw th’ ol’ ripscallion out!”</p> + +<p>It was a critical moment. Norman felt that a +fight was coming. Robert MacDonald showed it by +the wild light in his eye and the look of stern determination +upon his countenance, as he drew his tall +figure up until he fairly towered, like a blazing column, +above Gunwad. Fearing the worst, Norman +gently pushed Rilma to a safer distance, while he +moved nearer his grandfather.</p> + +<p>The bronzed features of the Woodranger suddenly +lost their look of wonted calm. With his habitual +swift but silent movement he glided to the side of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>the deer reeve, the fingers of his left hand closed +on Gunwad’s long nose, and before that worthy +could realise what was taking place he was led to +the door. Then, fairly lifted from his feet, he was +sent several yards away, where he fell in a heap on +the ground. Before his companions could interfere, +if they had any intention of doing so, the forester +turned toward them, pointing without a word in the +direction of the door.</p> + +<p>“I have no quarrel with you, Woodranger,” said +Lawton, beginning to retreat. “Come, Holster, let’s +get out of this.”</p> + +<p>Without further words the two joined Gunwad, +who, as he regained his feet, shook his fist at the +house, saying:</p> + +<p>“Ye shall pay dearly fer this, Woodranger. Ye’re +a traitor, and every man in Tyngstown shall know it. +Ez fer ye, ye ol’ Scotch dunderhead, ye shall be driven +out o’ Tyngstown with a withewood at yer heels.”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger was trembling from head to foot, +but he offered no reply, saying to himself rather +than to any one else:</p> + +<p>“Man’s consait is beyond comprehension. Ill +fares it with him who loses command o’ himself. I +much fear me I’ve committed an indiscretion. The +babbling creetur’ did arouse me more than I knew. +Well, alack! I’m not overmuch pleased with myself. +Man never knows his weakness till he lets his temper +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>overrule his jedgment. I very much fear I’ve committed +an indiscretion.”</p> + +<p>“Are the dolts a’ awa’, Norman, ma laddie?” +asked Mr. MacDonald, still trembling from the +effect of his recent excitement.</p> + +<p>“Yes, grandfather, and let us hope they will not +come back.”</p> + +<p>“They will, ma laddie, mark an auld man’s words. +Sir,” addressing the Woodranger, “I like the wey +ye handled th’ auld skellum, only I wad hae liked tae +hae had my ain fingers in the place o’ yours.”</p> + +<p>“I very much fear me I have committed an indiscretion, +and that my fingers pinched a bit harder +than I knew. But he vexed me exceedingly. I +hope you will not suffer for my indiscretion.”</p> + +<p>“We wish to thank you, Woodranger,” said Norman, +“for helping us get rid of the men. Do you +think Gunwad can really drive us away?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll warrant he will not without some stern +opposition. This trouble between the two factions +of settlers is an amazement no man can read, though +I am of the opinion the end is nearer than most +calculate. My advice, and such offering cannot be +counted high on account o’ its commonness, is not +to let the varmint give you a worry.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, kind sir,” cried Rilma, “is it such a dreadful +thing to be a refugee? You are an honest man +and you will tell me truly.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span></p> + +<p>“Nay, my bonnie lass, let not your heart run away +with your jedgment, as my temper did with mine. +You are too young and too gentle to let such matters +trouble your pretty head. But I will say this much, +and I have no wish to dissemble, that it is seldom +a term of dishonour. He who wears it lightest wears +it best. For that matter we’re all refugees, my +bonnie lass, and can only make the best o’ it.”</p> + +<p>“What! maun ye gang awa’ sae soon, maister, an’ +withoot givin’ us yer name?” asked the old Highlander. +“If I mistake not you’re ca’d Woodranger, +but I fain wad ca’ ye by a dearie name.”</p> + +<p>“No name is so dear to man as that he bears +amid the scenes he loves best. That race, which +is seldom at fault in such things, deemed it suited +to me. I have no desire to exchange it for another. +Nay, ol’ man, it has stood by me many a year and +it must remain until the eend. Ol’ Danger would +lose his faith in me, and my foot would lose its +lightness, should I change it now,” and shaking his +head, he moved swiftly and silently away.</p> + +<p>“I dinna read, I dinna read him!” muttered Mr. +MacDonald, shaking his own head, as he watched +the forester out of sight.</p> + +<p>“He is brave and kind-hearted,” said Norman, +warmly. “I cannot help liking him.”</p> + +<p>Then their conversation naturally turned upon the +deer reeve and his companion, even Norman being +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>obliged to acknowledge that their visit meant them +trouble if not serious harm. To give up their home +was a sacrifice which seemed too great to be met. +At any rate, they resolved to wait and see what Gunwad’s +next movement would be toward evicting them.</p> + +<p>Day after day, however, passed without any +change in the situation, as far as they knew. Gunwad +had not reappeared, but what his silence boded +them was more than they could foresee. Perhaps he +had some deeper laid scheme, which was requiring +further time to perfect. It might be he had given up +his intentions, though they could not believe that.</p> + +<p>The real cause of the prolonged delay was not +from any willingness on the part of Gunwad, but +rather a natural necessity arising from the slow +methods of law. Among the early settlers of New +England there were few who understood the principles +or the workings of legal force, and thus the +jurisdiction of courts was limited. The few judges +who had been invested with power to sit upon suits +were generally men without any legal education to +prepare them for their perplexing duties. Thus +there was no system or harmony in their rulings, +and the inhabitants were commonly compelled to +apply to the General Assembly, which assumed and +exercised jurisdiction in imitation of the English +Parliament, as a Court of Errors and Chancery. So +the deer reeve was obliged to prepare a petition and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>send it to Boston, that it might in its order be +placed before the proper officials.</p> + +<p>While he was fretting and fuming over the slow +process of law, his intended victims were gradually +forgetting his threat, and Norman, who was still +working for Mr. Stark, became greatly interested in +the proposed canoe match. Though of frequent +occurrence on the frontier, a boat race never failed +to arouse a keen and wide-spread interest, being +second only to a trial with arms. This trial, planned +by the youth of Harrytown, was of greater novelty +than usual, and sure to awaken more than ordinary +rivalry. In fact, owing to the opposing spirits existing +among these colonists, old as well as young +could talk of little else.</p> + +<p>Norman McNiel, Robert Rogers, and William +Stark were unanimously selected to represent the +Scotch-Irish settlers, while Johnny Goffe, William +Tyng, and James Hazard made up the English crew. +It is needless to say that both sides began at once +to practise earnestly.</p> + +<p>During one of these careful trainings on the part +of Norman and his companions, they were delighted +to see the Woodranger paddling swiftly and silently +down the stream.</p> + +<p>“Let’s watch him, and perhaps we can learn +something from him. Woodranger, you know, is +considered the best paddler in these parts.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span></p> + +<p>To the general spectator there is something fascinating +in the way a boat glides through the silvery +water under the propulsion of an expert oarsman. +And if this is true of the clumsy boat, the fascination +is doubled and trebled at the sight of the birchen +craft of the Indian, which seems to skim the current +without touching,—to fly without wings! As +Billy Stark had said, the Woodranger was not +equalled in the use of the paddle. His canoe was +of Indian make, about eighteen feet long, and built +from the winter bark of the white birch, which is +tougher than that of the summer. His smooth, +wide-bladed paddle was of the clearest poplar, “as +light as a feather and as strong as ironwood.” In +his skilful handling it touched the water without +making a sound, each stroke sending his frail bark +yards on its course.</p> + +<p>The forester had seen the young canoeists, and it +wasn’t long before he sped alongside of them.</p> + +<p>“A fine evening for your practice, lads, which +I hope my coming will not check. In my humble +opinion you will need all the benefit you can get +from such trials.”</p> + +<p>“We are right glad you have come, Woodranger,” +said Billy Stark, who seemed inclined +to do the talking, “and we want you to give us +a lesson.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay, lads, that I cannot do! I have no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>desire to dissemble in this amazement, and I am free +to confess that I am neutral in the quarrel hanging +over this affair. It would be ill-advised for me to +lend counsel or assistance even to my friends.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think the Cohas boys are going to beat +us?” asked Billy, showing disappointment at the +forester’s reply.</p> + +<p>“It is not my knack to be able to tell you, seeing +there are true lads at Goffe’s. I can tell you that +nothing is ever lost in being prepared to do your +best. It isn’t so much what you can do individually, +as what you are able to do all together. I see Rob +has the bow paddle, Billy the middle, and Norman +the stern. In my humble opinion, that shows good +jedgment. Your craft is a good one, its brown +colour showing that it is made of winter bark, and +your paddles appear to be clean ash. I prefer +poplar, which is lighter and less inclined to spring, +but that is only an old man’s whim. It all lies with +you; good evening,” and, without further words, the +Woodranger sped away as silently as he had come.</p> + +<p>“Funny he couldn’t give us just a hint!” said +Billy.</p> + +<p>“It seems to me he did give us two hints, which +may be the winning of the victory for us. Let us be +prepared to do our best, and to work together. Let +that be our key-note. Now, boys, together!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII"> + CHAPTER XVII. + <br> + <small>THE CANOE MATCH.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was a still September day,—an ideal day for +the canoe match. The sky had taken on that peculiar +sapphire hue so common to the season. Never +had the limpid current of the Merrimack shone +clearer along the two-mile course where it moved +with sluggish motion toward the Falls of Namaske. +If the day was ideal, so was this portion of the +sparkling stream an ideal track for the light barks of +the rival canoeists.</p> + +<p>At a point where a bend in the bank curved +sharply toward the west, cutting in twain the beach +of white sand, a crowd of spectators had gathered to +witness the great event of the autumn. A dozen +feet above these twin knots of anxious watchers, +standing on a wide, smooth breadth of land,—a +natural terrace,—were twice their numbers. Under +the giant pines, rearing their straight trunks from +seventy-five to one hundred feet into the air without +a branch to mar their symmetry, and tufted at the +top with oval masses of foliage, the view was extended +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>and beautiful. A hundred yards to the rear the +ground ascended abruptly in a far-reaching hill, which +was covered with a heavy growth of trees.</p> + +<p>Not satisfied with such advantages as the others +had obtained to watch the race, four adventurous +boys had climbed into the topmost branches of a pine +growing on the river’s bank, and which some storm +had so far uprooted as to cause the forest monarch +to lean far out over the water. Foremost of this +quartette was Lige Bitlock, for once obliged to leave +his dog in the background. From this position a +good view of the river was had for the entire distance +of the course, so straight does the stream flow at this +portion of its journey.</p> + +<p>It was now a quarter to two o’clock, and in fifteen +minutes the race was expected to start. Both parties +of the rivals were already on the ground, or rather +water, the observed of all and the subjects of a continual +flow of running comments. All of the preliminary +arrangements had been made, excepting that +most important one of selecting a judge. That was +the exact situation, though in the minds of all a +unanimous selection had been made by both sides. +Woodranger was that choice. But the forester for +some reason had not appeared, and until he came +and accepted the trust, it could not be said a judge +had been obtained. No one knew where he was. +Neither was it certain he would come at all. In that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span>dilemma Captain Goffe was expected to decide the +match. It was generally understood that he would +not accept if the Woodranger came. So you see +that while the judge was really chosen, no one knew +who he would be.</p> + +<p>In this anxious delay, though the time set had not +fully arrived, the onlookers, as they generally do, got +impatient. The two committees were besieged with +questions.</p> + +<p>It was to be a three-mile race, the canoeists going +up-stream a mile, and turning and going down-stream +a mile below the starting-place. This rather unusual +way of conducting the match had been decided upon +from a wish to give the spectators the best possible +opportunity to witness the trial. Both teams were +claimed to be in fine condition, and certainly everything +else was in their favour.</p> + +<p>Naturally, none were more impatient for the match +to open than the contestants, who had paddled to +positions nearly opposite the spectators, and were +discussing the prospect in whispers among themselves.</p> + +<p>“Do you think we shall win?” asked Billy Stark, +who was a little nervous over the trying situation.</p> + +<p>“Let us think so until we are fairly beaten,” replied +Norman. “Remember very much depends on +the last mile. Don’t get winded going up the +stream. If Johnny does get ahead of us, don’t let +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>that fact discourage you. It is the last part that +counts.”</p> + +<p>“And be careful how you drop your paddle,” said +Robert Rogers, who was not inclined to talk much +on occasions like that. “You must not get ahead +of Mac and me. Remember, Billy, that we must +move exactly together.”</p> + +<p>“Ay, you remember those were the last words of +Woodranger,” said Norman.</p> + +<p>“I wonder where the old fellow is,” commented +Billy. “I believe I could do better if he were here. +I had rather he would be judge than Captain Goffe. +It doesn’t seem right to have Johnny’s father to +decide a race in which his own boy is captain.”</p> + +<p>“That is why Captain Goffe does not like to +accept. Captain Blanchard was asked, but he said +he couldn’t be here. What is that cheering for?”</p> + +<p>Until then the crowds had been silent, but now a +lusty cheer was given by those on the terrace, though +the spectators below them remained quiet. The +cause of the outburst was soon explained by the +appearance of Captain Blanchard, who had been seen +by those from their elevated position before their +companions.</p> + +<p>“I had rather he would be umpire than Goffe,” +declared young Rogers.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile a conversation of somewhat similar +nature, though varied to suit the desires of the rival +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>crew, had been carried on. It is, perhaps, needless +to say that the Cohas boys were as confident of +winning the match as their opponents. The spectators +seemed about equally divided in their favours +and hopes.</p> + +<p>“I tell you what it is, Mac, I’ll wager my first +fall pelt that the Namaske boys are going to whip +’em others!” exclaimed a tall, bony looker-on, whose +appearance showed plainly his place of nativity.</p> + +<p>“Ne’er fear o’ my taking ye up, Archie, though +it do seem Goffe’s crew air in deadly ’arnest,” replied +a companion.</p> + +<p>“An’ going to bite vict’ry right out o’ th’ Scotch +boys’ teeth!” exclaimed a third. “I’ll take yer bet, +Archie, ef McPherson daresn’t!”</p> + +<p>“Done!” was the quick rejoinder of the first +speaker. “I’m sure o’ doubling my game.”</p> + +<p>“Th’ Goffes were never beaten!” interjected +another. “See whut a breadth o’ chist Johnny has. +Jis’ like his father. An’ sich forearms! Then there’s +Jimmy! Jimmy’s going to last till th’ last stroke. +Ah, Cap’n Goffe knowed who to pick. With him +fer judge we’re sure.”</p> + +<p>“Avaunt wi’ yer nonsense! Whut’s Johnny +Goffe’s brawn compared to young McNiel’s arm? +Mac can take one in each hand an’ flip their heels +togither. Whut’s Johnny’s craft compared to Robby +Rogers’s cunning? Robby is Woodranger’s favourite +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>and trained in his ways. Them two air th’ boys fer +me,—the boys who made th’ handsomest shots at +th’ Pines. But whut air th’ committees doing now? +Why be they buzzing Cap’n Blanchard so?”</p> + +<p>The committees, aided by Captain Goffe, were +urging Captain Blanchard to accept the position of +judge of the race, when a louder cheering than any +before broke upon the scene, the wild cries prolonged +into a series of huzzas which rang far and +wide up and down the river. Nor had they far to +look for the explanation, for a canoe, skimming the +water with bird-like swiftness, and holding the well-known +figure of the Woodranger, was to be seen near +at hand.</p> + +<p>The chairman of the committee at once beckoned +to the forester, who sped his light craft near to the +anxious group.</p> + +<p>“You’re the one we’ve been looking and waiting +for, Woodranger. We want you to act as judge of +the match. You’re better versed in canoeing than +any of us, and you’re just the one to decide the +race.”</p> + +<p>To the surprise and disappointment of all, the forester +shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I durst not do it, man, I durst not do it. Varsed +in the ways o’ dipping a paddle I may be, and though +it be not proper for me to say it, I may have picked +up the knack o’ the red man’s cunning. But there +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>be personal p’ints in this matter, which would make +it an indiscretion for me to meddle. I might be +accused, and mind you I say not without reason, o’ +partiality. Robby, you mus’ remember, is my pupil +in the great school o’ natur’. And the lad, McNiel,—but +I need not detail my mind. They’re six likely +lads, and I love and respect them all. I thought +mebbe I’d sort o’ trail along behind, and if anything—mind +you, I say if anything unforeseen does happen,—not +that I’m expecting it,—I’ll be near to +lend a helping hand. More’n that I durst not undertake. +I cannot dissemble; I’m neutral in this +matter.”</p> + +<p>Understanding that it would be useless to urge +the Woodranger to do what his judgment did not +dictate, the committee then pressed Captain Blanchard +to accept the trust. The latter did not hesitate, +after finding that their first choice could not be +pressed into service. His acceptance was very +agreeable to both sides, for though the Proprietors’ +clerk of Tyng Township at the time, he was known +to be always fair in his dealings with both factions.</p> + +<p>No sooner was this decision reached than Chairman +Hall jumped upon a handy stump, and shouted +so as to be heard by every one:</p> + +<p>“Arrangements completed. ’Squire Blanchard will +decide the race. Are you in the canoes ready for +the word?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span></p> + +<p>“Ready!” rang out the word in six voices, as if +spoken by one, falling clearly on the profound +silence which had now bound the spectators.</p> + +<p>“Ready it is, then. Time! One, two, three—go!”</p> + +<p>So well had the starter timed himself that it was +exactly two o’clock by Captain Blanchard’s watch as +the signal was given.</p> + +<p>As one the six paddles dropped into the water, +and side by side the two canoes shot up the stream, +while loud, prolonged cheers from the spectators +made the woods ring.</p> + +<p>“It were a fair start and above discussion,” said +the Woodranger to himself, as he sent his light bark +in the silvery track of the rival canoes. “I’m afeerd +Robby has set a stroke that’ll puzzle ’em to hold to +the eend. Three miles ain’t like spinning a few +yards for fun. But, Lordy’s me! how I do take on, +and the race only begun.”</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful sight to witness, to see the six +paddles rise and fall with such automatic precision +that they seemed to be moved by machinery, while +the heads and bodies of the rowers rose and sank +with equal regularity. After the first outburst the +crowds again became silent, and, except the splash +of a paddle now and then, as one of the rowers +failed to feather the edge as he wished, not a sound +broke the stillness of the autumn air.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span></p> + +<p>But it was soon evident that the boys of Cohas +were gaining on the others. At first the spectators +were in some doubt of this, but it soon became certain, +even to the most skeptical. Renewed cheering +was then begun, though only the friends of the +English boys now did the shouting.</p> + +<p>“What’d I tell ye!” cried an overzealous admirer. +“Johnny Goffe is sure to come in ahead. Hurrah +for the boys o’ Cohas!”</p> + +<p>Others took up the cry, until it rang far and wide, +encouraging the three from the lower settlement to +greater exertions. Woodranger, hearing the cries and +realising the situation, shook his head.</p> + +<p>Straight as a bee-line did the canoes speed up the +river toward the buoy in the middle of the stream, +around which they were expected to pass and then +return to the goal two miles down the watery course. +The boys of Cohas were showing themselves to be +of true metal, as well they might and should, for +the work they were destined to perform in later +years. Every one of the three earned a name that for +border sagacity and intrepidity still lives in colonial +history. Johnny Goffe, well worthy of the name of +his father, who trained John Stark in the manual of +arms and was General Sullivan’s master of tactics, +sufficient honour for one, to say nothing of his own +proud career, had set the stroke for his crew; and +if it was begun at a tremendous pace, he showed no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>signs of faltering, as slowly, inch by inch, yard by +yard, they continued to gain on their rivals. At the +turning-point, as they swung silently and swiftly +around the buoy, the boys of Cohas were three +canoe lengths in the lead!</p> + +<p>Some of the spectators had followed as near as +they could in canoes, while others had tried to keep +the race in sight by running along the bank. Foremost +of all flew the Woodranger, casting furtive +glances, ever and anon, toward the rivals.</p> + +<p>“The boys of Cohas have turned the buoy four +rods ahead!” some one shouted, and others catching +up the cry, it rang from throat to throat, until it was +heard from start to finish.</p> + +<p>“The boys of Cohas lead—the race is theirs! +Hurrah for the Tyng boys! Hurrah for Johnny +Goffe!”</p> + +<p>If the latter was getting the lion’s share of the +praise, he was the coolest of the trio.</p> + +<p>“Well done, my hearties!” he cried, as they sent +the canoe head down the stream. “It will be easier +now, and we ought to win!”</p> + +<p>“We will!” exclaimed Jimmy Hazard, from between +his clenched teeth. But, while he would not +own it to himself, he was sorely tried with the long +up-pull.</p> + +<p>If the boys of Namaske felt any undue anxiety, +they did not show it, but continued to rush ahead +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>with a stroke which their rivals did not equal for +precision and silence.</p> + +<p>“They handle their paddles like Indians,” said the +Woodranger to himself, paying them the highest +compliment he could. But shaking his head, he +resumed, “I have strange misgivings. I hope they +have not committed an indiscretion by letting the +others get so far ahead of them. No—no! it cannot +be. Alack! how childish I am getting to be.”</p> + +<p>Now that the canoes had turned the upper end of +the course, there was a scramble on the part of the +spectators to get where they could best witness the +close struggle they believed must take place on +the last quarter. Captain Blanchard, in a canoe, +had already stationed himself where he could command +a close view of the finish, the critical point in +the trial.</p> + +<p>The boys of Cohas, confident of victory, and with +the strength such confidence gives, were still sending +their canoe gliding over the water at an amazing +rate of speed, their friends now continually urging +them on with exultant cries.</p> + +<p>Neither were the boys of Namaske idle. They +realised that it would not do for them to allow their +rivals to gain another foot, and as they swept around +the buoy they quickened their movements, soon +lessening the distance between them and the others. +So closely were the spectators watching them, that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>even the fraction gained was noticed, and the Scotch-Irish +improved their opportunity to cheer. But their +cries were drowned by renewed yells from the others, +who felt that the honours belonged to them.</p> + +<p>“Robby has a good arm for a lad o’ his age,” +soliloquised the Woodranger, as he witnessed the +spurt of those whom it was plain he favoured in +spite of his wish to remain neutral; “but he’s too +young to hold out to the eend. I’m much afeerd—alack +a man! why will I fill my ol’ mind with sich +foolishness. They are all likely lads, and the best +must win.”</p> + +<p>As one better versed in canoeing, as well as in +all phases of wildwood life, Norman had gladly consented +to allow Robby Rogers, though younger than +himself, to be the leader of their crew; but now he +was beginning to think the boy ranger was making +a mistake in not giving their rivals a closer pull at +the outset. It was true he felt as fresh as at the +opening, but of what avail would be all of their +reserved energy if they delayed too long the effort +to recover the distance they had lost? Certainly it +would soon be too late for them to hope to gain the +victory. Filled with these thoughts, he said, in a low +tone, but plainly heard by the others:</p> + +<p>“Has not the time come for us, Rob?”</p> + +<p>The reply came in a clear tone:</p> + +<p>“Quicker—deeper, lads!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span></p> + +<p>Then something of the reserved strength of the +three was brought into action. The paddles flashed +forth a continual stream of sunlight, while the silvery +trail behind the flying canoe was unbroken for a long +distance. Their friends on the river bank, realising +the change, gave an encouraging cheer. This was +drowned, however, by the shouts of the Tyngs party, +who seemed determined to do all the applauding.</p> + +<p>Johnny Goffe caught something of the meaning of +this new outburst on the part of the Cohas party, +and he endeavoured to arose his companions to still +more effective work. Then, for the first time, +he learned that his crew had begun to feel the +effect of their overtasked strength. But this did +not disconcert him. With the advantage they had +already won, it was only necessary for them to hold +their own now. He never doubted their ability to do +that.</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful sight to see the rival canoes +skimming the silvery current like twin birds, the +swift-moving paddles looking not unlike the white +wings of a pair of snowy swans. If the friends of +the boys of Namaske boasted that their champions +had begun to gain on the Cohas crew, the admirers +of the latter claimed that it was not enough to give +them any alarm. The Woodranger, than whom no +one had watched the contest closer, or with nicer +calculation, knew that half a canoe’s length had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>been taken from the gap lying between the two +crafts.</p> + +<p>Two-thirds of the distance had now been made, +and both crews were apparently doing their best. +Slowly but surely the boys of Namaske were overhauling +the others. As this became certain, all +cheering ended, as if the situation was now too +momentous for any display of feeling, and every +one stood in silence, intently watching the race. +With the skill and rapidity which seemed to be a +sort of second nature to him, the Woodranger was +keeping almost abreast of the rivals, when he thus +was the first to see the disaster which befel the rear +crew.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as Billy Stark plied his paddle with +increasing power, a sharp crack, sounding like the +report of a firearm, rang loud and clear, and he +reeled over as if shot, and fell in the bottom of +the canoe. Nearly every spectator thought he had +been shot, and cries of horror were heard in every +direction.</p> + +<p>But there had been no gunshot, no foul play, as +far as any person was concerned. Instead, an accident +had occurred almost as disastrous, as far as the +match seemed concerned. His paddle had snapped +asunder under his great exertions, sending him upon +his back at the feet of his companions.</p> + +<p>The frail bark careened, and as Norman and Rob +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>realised the disaster to their assistant, both felt that +their hopes were lost. In the face of such odds they +could not hope to win.</p> + +<p>“It’s no use,—our race is over!” gasped Rob. +He had hardly given utterance to the hopeless words, +when a clarion voice rang over the water, crying:</p> + +<p>“<em>The brave never give up!</em>”</p> + +<p>It was the Woodranger who uttered the stirring +declaration, and the words came like an inspiration +to Norman McNiel, who quickly rallied, saying to his +companion:</p> + +<p>“Don’t give up, Rob! We <em>must</em> win!”</p> + +<p>It was fortunate then they were comparatively as +fresh as at the outset. The exertions of the race so +far had only served to temper the vigour in their +strong limbs. Rob Rogers instantly threw off his +fears, and, himself again, he handled his paddle as +he had never done before. Norman had already set +the example, and as if the strength of two Billy +Starks had been imparted to their arms, they sent +the canoe ahead like an arrow sprung from a bow +with giant power. Before the spectators had recovered +from their surprise enough to realise what had +taken place, the two boys had covered half of the +distance between them and their rivals.</p> + +<p>It was true it was now two against three, but +they seemed possessed of the strength of four. The +scene which followed held the onlookers dumb with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>wonder. In his excitement Lige Bitlock climbed so +far out on his perch that the branch beneath him +broke with a loud snap, sending him headforemost +into the water. But no one heeded his cries or +appeals for help, while he floundered in the river. +Every eye and every thought was concentrated on +a more stirring sight.</p> + +<p>Johnny Goffe heard and realised enough to know +that something had befallen his opponents, but he +felt that it must have been to their advantage, for +he found that they were gaining on him faster than +ever.</p> + +<p>“They must not—they shall not beat us!” he +cried. “On, Jimmy, Willy, win or die!”</p> + +<p>It was a stirring appeal, but Jimmy Hazard was +too worn out to rally successfully, while his companions +lacked the iron will and reserved strength of the +sturdy limbs of Norman McNiel and Robert Rogers. +Swifter and swifter this couple sent their light craft +onward toward the goal, gaining on their rivals at +every bite of the paddles. Nearer and nearer they +flew, foot by foot, yard by yard, until they were now +abreast!</p> + +<p>But both were now down close to the finish line. +The Tyngs spectators still believed and hoped that +their champions could hold their own for the short +distance left.</p> + +<p>“Hold ’em a jiffy, Johnny!” yelled an excited +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>onlooker. “Don’t let ’em get ahead. Hurrah for +the boys of Cohas!”</p> + +<p>The other side was silent, breathless, during that +brief interval of fearful suspense.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"> + CHAPTER XVIII. + <br> + <small>THE FALL HUNT.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>With the cries of frenzied spectators ringing in +their ears, with such wild energy in their limbs as +they had never known, Norman and Rob sent their +canoe ahead of the boys of the Cohas. The next +moment they crossed the line four yards in the lead +of their rivals.</p> + +<p>The boys of Namaske had won! What cheering +followed! Never was such a scene witnessed on +the banks of the Merrimack River, never, unless in +the unwritten history of the red men some such race +had been made and won by the dusky champions +of the birchen skiff. The Scotch-Irish shouted +until they were hoarse, and shouted still, when +hardly an articulate sound left their lips. Let it +be said to their credit, the Tyng colonists acted a +most generous part.</p> + +<p>Johnny Goffe was the first to clasp the hands of +his successful rivals, expressing his honest congratulations.</p> + +<p>“And to think,” said the humiliated Billy Stark, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>“they did it without me. No, Johnny, I deserve +none of your praise. That miserable paddle of mine +broke like a pine limb in the midst of it, when I was +needed most. Woodranger told me that knot would +sometime spoil it, but I thought I knew better than +the old man, with all his cunning. I am sorry, Norman, +Rob, that I failed so, but honestly it was no +fault of mine.”</p> + +<p>“We know it, Billy,” said Rob. “But candidly I +think we did better than we could have done if you +had not broken your paddle. Do you know that put +such strength into my arm as I had never felt +before. It seems to require some great crisis to +bring out a feller to his best.”</p> + +<p>“That and Woodranger’s words,” said Norman. +“Do you know, Rob, it seemed just as if he had +given me his strength when he shouted to us. Where +is he now?”</p> + +<p>“Why, there he goes up the river! What has +happened? There is a great commotion going on +up by the leaning pine.”</p> + +<p>“Some one is in the river. Looks as though he +was drowning.”</p> + +<p>“And there goes Woodranger to save him. He’s +all right now. Let’s talk some more about the +match. Don’t you boys feel grand?”</p> + +<p>“Why shouldn’t they?” asked a brawny spectator, +who had elbowed his way down to the river’s bank. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>“I want to get hold of their hands. Boys,” he continued, +as he held a hand of each of the victors, “I’d +rather walked a hundred miles than to miss that +sight.”</p> + +<p>That seemed to be the sentiment of all, even +among the Tyng colonists. It was noticed that day, +and Archie Stark commented upon it, that there +appeared to be less bitter feeling among the younger +generation than was shown by their parents.</p> + +<p>“It shows that this difference of opinion is going +to wear away,” he declared.</p> + +<p>In the congratulations showered upon him from +every side, and among them the sweet praise of +Rilma, Norman ought to have felt proud and satisfied. +But there was one who had not come near +him or Rob, whom he had desired to see at that +time above all others. That one was the Woodranger. +So he looked and waited for the opportunity +to speak to him, as soon as Lige Bitlock had +been rescued from his ducking. But no sooner had +the forester saved the half-drowned boy than he +disappeared, and no one saw him again that day.</p> + +<p>Somewhat to Norman’s surprise, his grandfather +had come to witness the match, and he praised him +as only he could. Probably no one there felt prouder +of the victory than the old Highlander.</p> + +<p>“Yer a true MacDonald wi’ the best o’ McNiel,” +he said.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span></p> + +<p>After the trial was over the majority of the spectators +lingered about the place, several participating +in impromptu races on the river. Norman, Rilma, and +Mr. MacDonald, however, soon sought their home.</p> + +<p>On the whole, the match had passed off satisfactorily, +and it was much talked of for many days. No +one, not even the defeated boys of Cohas, felt worse +than Billy Stark. But of course no blame was +attached to him, and in the joy of the others he +soon forgot the mishap which had robbed him of his +share of the coveted glory.</p> + +<p>In the month of October, generally during the +full moon, it was customary for many of the pioneers +to take what was considered “the fall hunt,” just as +the Indians had done before them. Some did this +from a desire to lay in a stock of meat for the +winter, and many others from the pleasure they +found in it. These excursions were not usually +extended to a great distance on account of the +plentiful supply of game near home.</p> + +<p>Though this was his second season in the country, +Norman had not taken one of these trips, which he +felt must be filled with sport and adventure. He +had found that his friends, the Scotch-Irish, were +less inclined, as a rule, to pursue such expeditions. +But upon speaking his wishes to Rob Rogers, the +boy ranger, he at once found a congenial spirit.</p> + +<p>“I have been thinking of the same thing, Mac, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>and I have decided on the direction to go. The rest +are scurrying toward the Uncannoonucs or up the +river. We want to go to old Pawtuckaway Mountain, +taking Massabesic Pond on our way. I will +tell you what else I have been thinking of. Let’s +ask Woodranger to go with us. He’s the best +company we could have. And ask the Stark boys +to go.”</p> + +<p>“Just what I would like to do. I am sure Billy +and Johnny will be glad to do so. But can we get +Woodranger? I have not seen him since the canoe +match. Wasn’t it singular he left in the way he +did?”</p> + +<p>“To you it may seem so, but to me it was just +like him. He has been ‘perambulating the woods,’ +as he calls it, ever since, I dare say. He’ll come in +soon, and then I’ll speak to him about it. I am sure +he will go with us, so you can make your calculations +accordingly.”</p> + +<p>The boy ranger proved himself a true prophet in +more ways than one. The very next day the Woodranger +appeared at Goffe’s Falls, and he readily consented +to accompany the boys on the proposed hunt. +That evening Rob came up to see Norman and tell +the good news.</p> + +<p>“I have seen the Stark boys,” said our hero, “and +they are as anxious to go as we are. Mr. Stark has +consented, provided Woodranger is to go, and grandfather +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>has kindly promised that I may be gone four +days. I can get ready any time the rest can.”</p> + +<p>“Then we’ll start Monday morning, and I predict +that we’ll have a grand old time. Have you got +plenty of powder and ball?”</p> + +<p>“Plenty of powder, and I will run up some balls +to-morrow. I suppose we shall want to take some +skins with us, as a protection from the night air?”</p> + +<p>“Just a blanket apiece. Don’t want to load down +with such articles. A blanket, a bough house, a +sheltered spot in the woods, and you will sleep like +a bear in winter.</p> + + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“‘Oh, a rifle good,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In the merry greenwood,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">And a hunter’s life for me!’”</div> + </div> + </div> + +<p>Now that they began to get ready to go, the greatest +fear of the boys was that a storm might set in at +the time they wished to start, and last for a week or +more. But the eventful Monday was ushered in with +a clear sun. Norman felt more reluctance than he +had anticipated about leaving home; but, knowing +his desire to go, both his grandfather and Rilma +earnestly desired him to improve the opportunity, +declaring they would have no difficulty in getting +along for a few days without him.</p> + +<p>“It’s yersel’ I am worried ower, laddie. Ye maun +be unco careful. An’ mind ye, laddie, tak the auld +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>horn. It’ll prove handy, always remembering it was +that which sounded the ca’ to airms in Glencoe, it +was that which rallied the lads to battle when the +Britons swarmed ower us like bees, an’ that which +sounded the retreat when it was a’ ower wi’ the +bauld clan. Tak it, laddie; ye’re worthy o’ it.”</p> + +<p>Nothing loath, Norman did as he was requested, +and kissing Rilma a tender good-bye, and clasping the +old Highlander’s hand in his, he hastened after his +companions, who were waiting for him a little below +the house.</p> + +<p>It was the first time he had met the Woodranger +since the canoe race, and the forester’s greeting was +most cordial.</p> + +<p>“Don’t think I am less glad to see you, lad, +because I ran away that day. I have always noticed +that the best trait a man has is that o’ caution, and, +the truth be told, I durst not meet you then. I +feared me much I had committed a blameful indiscretion +in bawling out like a loon, as I did. Tell +me truly, lad, hast heerd any one speak very bitter +o’ that indiscretion o’ mine?”</p> + +<p>“Not one has mentioned it within my hearing, +Woodranger. But I want to tell you that it saved +us the match. We should have given up after +Billy’s mishap, if you had not spoken as you did.”</p> + +<p>“I feared it, lads, I did. It seemed a sorry +amazement to spoil sich a fine race. It pleases me +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>much to know people were so considerate o’er my +foolishness. Aweel, now’s me, lad, we are but weak +mortals, no stronger in our greatest strength than +our weakest p’int. It was a handsome race. I’m +proud o’ sich lads.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX"> + CHAPTER XIX. + <br> + <small>DEER NECK.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The outfit of the little party was very simple. +The Woodranger was content with his faithful +Danger thrown over his shoulder, and plenty of +ammunition. Of course the boys had been careful +to take a good supply of powder and ball. The +Stark boys, at the urgent request of their mother, +had a bagful of bread and doughnuts, which she +knew would not come amiss. Johnny had strenuously +opposed this, as he considered it showed a +weakness on the part of hunters. Each of them, +excepting the forester, carried a wolf-skin made into +as small a roll as possible, and fastened on their +backs. Johnny had objected even to this, but before +their return he was glad to have heeded a +mother’s thoughtful interest.</p> + +<p>They left the Falls by the main road leading to +the centre of the Scotch-Irish settlement, but upon +reaching the few scattered homes of these pioneers +the Woodranger plunged boldly into the primeval +forest, stretching away in every direction farther +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>than the eye could survey, mile on mile of wildwood, +broken only here and there by some small clearing +of an adventurous settler. Extending over such a +vast area, the forests covered mountain and hillside, +valley and plain, margined the banks of numerous +ponds, or fringed with overhanging branches innumerable +silvery streams.</p> + +<p>Norman, who had not seen as much of wildwood +life as his companions, felt a strange, awe-inspiring +sensation on entering deeper and deeper into the +trackless and sunless region. The Woodranger +showed that he was in his true element, and it +was not long before the exuberance of spirit, welling +up in his heart, as the fountain in the forest finds an +outlet for its overflowing treasures, sought an escape +in his rude, philosophical speech:</p> + +<p>“Man is nearest human natur’ when alone with +the works o’ his Creator. I do not have to go to +the haunts o’ man to find the imprint o’ his hand. +It is on the forest everywhere. What better evidence +do you want o’ man’s pride than in yon pine, +which lifts its cap a good fifty feet above the heads +of its neighbours? What is more typical o’ man’s +aggressive natur’ than that oak, which claims, and +holds too, double the sarcuit o’ territory that even +the proud pine possesses? In that silver birch, growing +by the bank o’ that leetle stream, is the very +personification o’ grace and beauty and modesty. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>See how the tiny vines cling to it, as if it were their +natural mother. I love the birch best o’ all the +wildwood trees. It may be there are more useful +ones, and I am mindful of the ash that makes a tolerable +paddle, and the poplar, better yet. There be +many others better and more useful, I allow, but +still I love the birch.</p> + +<p>“The other day, at the shooting-match, which was +’p’inted to take place on sacred ground ’cording to +my idee, I thought o’ the forests then. To him who +could ’a’ looked down on that mob there was only an +uneven flooring o’ heads, one looking very much like +another. But underneath were all kind o’ visages, +and some were black with hate, and some were white +with rage; some wore peaceful looks, and some looks +o’ trouble and o’ fear. Everywhere was a spirit o’ +rebellion and extermination o’ the other. Some were +men o’ intellect and eddication, stalwart o’ figure +and handsome o’ feature; others were dwafted in +body, stunted in mind, and poor in the knowledge +that comes from others’ experience. I pity sich, +and none more than myself.</p> + +<p>“To him who stands on the mountain and looks +down on the forest, the sight presents a scene o’ +many hues, but symmetrical and suggestful o’ quiet +and repose. But below is a gnarled and tangled +mass o’ drooping branches, mossy trunks o’ fallen +trees, stunted undergrowth stifling for the sunlight +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>o’ which it has been robbed, distorted limbs and +knotted roots that will thrust their forbidding bodies +into sight, all festooned, here and there, with draperies +o’ ferns and vines reeking with the cold sweat +o’ their damp environments. Dead trees, like spectres +o’ departed greatness, thrust their skeleton +arms mutely toward the sunlight, while lean, starved +trees eke out a miserable existence beside more +fortunate kindred, which have grown to undue girth, +just as some men fatten on their relations. An +asthmatic beech, a consumptive pine, a stunted birch +live only at the mercy of some big overbearing oak.</p> + +<p>“So you see it is continual warfare among the +trees,—a case o’ the survival o’ the strongest, as it +is among men. A hundred infant trees have been +dwarfed and suffocated by this giant pine, which, +like some big general, will stand lordly and grand +until the silent axe o’ the gray destroyer shall fell it +to make room for another, which will grow and fatten +on its decaying carcass. Unnumbered seedlings +spring each season from the rich mould o’ them which +have perished afore ’em, and they, too, become food +for the next generation. Not one in a thousand survives +in the struggle for the sunlight which means life +to them, and yet in the grand march o’ ages those +few have made the innumerable host surrounding us.</p> + +<p>“I never see one o’ the Massachusetts men without +thinking o’ the tall, haughty, defiant pine, unbending +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>to the strongest blasts, and as changeless +as the December sky on a moonlit night. The +Scotch-Irish remind me o’ the stubborn, aggressive +oak, spreading out its branches where it listeth, +severe and fearless, but generous and hospitable to +those who find the way to its heart. The two clans +o’ trees can never live together, as many other +species o’ the forest do.</p> + +<p>“But forgive me, lads, for running off into this +sarmon at the outset. You must think me a pretty +companion to let my foolish tongue lead me sich a +race. I fear me much my tongue is like a runaway +brook, for ever babbling o’ what it cannot in reason +know. I often find myself listening to its lectures, +when there be none other to hear, unless the trees +have ears.”</p> + +<p>“But your talk is always interesting. You have +such new ideas.”</p> + +<p>“As old as natur’, lad, as old as natur’.”</p> + +<p>At this juncture, very much to the surprise of +Norman, they came upon a hard-beaten path, winding +through the forest.</p> + +<p>“It is an old Indian trail,” said the Woodranger, +“and it leads down to the shore o’ a pond, which we +shall reach sooner than you now think. Look! even +now we ketch a glimmer o’ the water through the +tree-tops. You see that neck o’ land holding that +leetle patch o’ earth out into the pond by the throat? +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>Weel, that is called Deer Neck. It was a favourite +drive for the red men, who delighted in chasing the +deer down here by the dozen, and, having cornered +’em, kill ’em off at their pleasure.</p> + +<p>“It was a plan o’ the reds to lop down brushwood +wherever they found a deer path, until they had +built an enclosure of considerable extent. They +were never particular about having the fence +straight; in fact, it was better to let it jog as it +happened. But they were sure to bring the +ends close together at the mouth, so there was +leetle chance for the creatur’ to get out once he had +entered the pound. Some o’ ’em, too, would always +guard the gap. Inside the grounds was filled with +hedges and mazes o’ brushwood, while at every corner +they set snares made o’ deer thongs o’ amazing +strength. One end o’ the thong was usually made +fast to a sapling, if one was convanient. If not, a +loose pole was used, they being keerful to have it +heavy enough so the deer could not drag it away.”</p> + +<p>“But with their tools I should have thought it +would have taken them a lifetime to build such +a pen.”</p> + +<p>“Hast seen the beavers work, lad? These patient +creatur’s, with only their teeth for axes, have felled +some o’ the biggest trees o’ the forest. The industrious +beaver can teach the red man no lesson o’ +patience. There were many hands, too, you must +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>remember, working for the general good and not for +individual gain, as the whites do.</p> + +<p>“The red, too, had a way o’ running down the +deer, in case he was hunting alone and missed his +mark. It was a sort o’ unwritten law with ’em that +if the hunter missed his shot, he must run down the +creatur’ to save himself from disgrace. So, when +the frightened deer bounded away, he would give +one o’ his unyarthly screeches and follow. But he +knew better than to keep running at first. A moose +never stops running, once he starts, until he either +escapes or falls dead in his tracks. But a deer, after +running a little way and finding it is not pursued, +will stop to browse. The red knew this, and would +creep upon his game, and when near enough give +another yell, which would send the animal on another +spurt. In this way the red would follow the deer +for hours, and worry it by these jerky pursuits. It +would get dry then, and drink its fill of the first pool +or stream. That would load down its stomach so it +could no longer make its big jumps, while its runs +would be shorter. Each stop stiffened its joints.</p> + +<p>“The cunning red, no matter how parched his +tongue was, would not allow a drop o’ water down +his throat. Dashing a handful into his face, as he +crossed some brook, he would keep repeating his +manœuvres, until at last the poor hunted brute would +turn hopelessly at bay. The red then makes short +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>work o’ it. Without stopping for the flesh to cool, +he cuts a piece from behind the fore shoulder, and +begins to eat it. Neither does he allow himself, in +his overheated condition, to stand still a minute. +Slinging as much o’ the carcass as he can well carry +o’er his shoulder, he starts on a trot to his home. +He knows if he stops he will soon be too stiff to move. +It may be he has run a hundred miles in this race. +Such races generally average fifty miles, though it +may end near where it started, the bewildered deer +going in nearly a circle. The endurance o’ the red +is wonderful. I have known one to run continually +for twenty-four hours, and kiver every hour from +four to five miles through a wilderness o’ swamp and +upland. But here we are at old Massabesic, which is +an Indian name for Place o’ Much Water. It is a +goodish sized pool, and there is another off yender as +large as this, hitched on by a narrer rim o’ water, +so the two look like a pair o’ spectacles.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX"> + CHAPTER XX. + <br> + <small>THE CRY FOR HELP.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>While the boys stopped to admire the silvery +sheet of water, hedged with wildwood growing to +the very edge, the Woodranger reached silently into +a dense thicket of bushes hanging out over the shore +of the pond, and pulled from its hiding-place a birch +canoe, with its paddle.</p> + +<p>Norman and the Stark boys could not help expressing +surprise at seeing this done, but Rob +Rogers said:</p> + +<p>“Don’t let Woodranger surprise you, Mac, by +pulling a canoe out of a thicket like that. I honestly +believe he has one in every pond and stream in +New England. And the fun of it is he can always +lay his hand on one when he wants it.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, lad, it is one o’ man’s weak p’ints to be o’er +confident. I remember this summer o’ coming to a +leetle strayed-away corner o’ water that I generally +skim in my birch rather than tramp around, but I +didn’t find the canoe. Mebbe some red took it; +mebbe it had drifted away. I do not purtend to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>say. I know it cost me twenty miles o’ perambulating +through a dense briar.”</p> + +<p>“How many canoes do you suppose you have, +Woodranger, in hiding like this?” asked the boy +ranger.</p> + +<p>“I trust it is no indiscretion o’ mine to say that +I have a goodish number. I find ’em very convanient, +too. Step in, lads, and we’ll cross this bit o’ water in +a jiffy.”</p> + +<p>To four such boys, who revelled in the life of the +woods, this trip was already proving delightful. With +that easy movement, born of the forester, the +Woodranger pushed the light bark out from its +shelter, and, springing nimbly in with his passengers, +sent it flying over the sparkling water. The +day was clear, and the refreshing breeze coming +over the lake brought a feeling of exhilaration to +the five.</p> + +<p>“This is better than dragging through the brushwood, +with the vines and briars tugging at your +jacket,” declared Billy Stark. “For my part, I wish +we could go this way all of the distance.”</p> + +<p>“Where would be your deer you have boasted of +bagging?” asked Rob.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, perhaps I should want to go ashore +long enough to capture that. But I didn’t know +Massabesic was so large, Woodranger.”</p> + +<p>“As I said, it is a goodish sized pool. It was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>a favourite spot o’ the reds, who had a village on +the north shore, until the plague killed so many o’ +’em there weren’t enough left to be sociable. That +was just afore the whites kem, and over yender,” +pointing to the right, “is the ruined cabin o’ the +last o’ their tribe in this vicinity, an Indian maiden. +She married the first settler in these parts, who kem +here while her people were dying at short notice. +He was a negro, who had kem with John Smith on +his v’yage to this country. He was an escaped slave, +and their union seemed to me pathetic, being, as they +were, the outcasts o’ two races. But how the water +has taken on its winter clothes within a few days. +There is snow in the air.”</p> + +<p>“Water with winter clothes!” exclaimed Billy +Stark, while the other boys did not try to conceal +their wonder at such a statement. “I never heard +of water having clothes.”</p> + +<p>“Neither did you ever o’ the bear wearing a +jacket, and yet his suit o’ warm fur is in every +sense his clothes. So it might be said o’ every +creatur’ that runs or flies. I can’t say so positive +o’ the fish that swim in the water, but I have marked +a difference in dress o’ the streams and ponds in +which they live. Take the babbling brook in the +summer and you will find it merrily dancing in its +white and silvery frock, just as if, like the human +creatur’, it had thrown off its gray garb o’ winter. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>But when cold weather comes you see that same +brook with a deep blue on. Then, too, in summer +its song has a gentle, babbling sound, as if it felt +good-will toward all, but in the cold season it rushes +on with a harsh, gurgling noise, as if it were fretting +over the prospect ahead, for all the world like man, +scolding for what he knows not. It is the same with +the pond. Last summer old Massabesic had a sunny +smile rippling all over her fair figure; but now she +is donning the dull, leaden hue o’ winter. How +much more cheerless, too, do the waves dash and +break on her beaches. All things change with the +seasons, even to the coats o’ the bear and the beaver, +the wolf and the rabbit. But hark! do my old ears +deceive me, or is that the cry o’ human throat? +Your ears are keener than mine.”</p> + +<p>“It is a cry for help from some one,” said Norman, +and the others nodded their heads, as they +continued to listen.</p> + +<p>“It comes from the east shore,” said Rob. “Who +can it be and what is the trouble?”</p> + +<p>“We will soon know, lad, we will soon know,” +and the Woodranger began to send the canoe over +the water at redoubled speed.</p> + +<p>“If I only had a paddle,” said Rob.</p> + +<p>“Nay, lad, let not that consarn thee. Whoever +it be, he has lusty lungs. Keep a sharp lookout, +for were it not in peaceful times one might be only +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>called discreet if he looked on sich bawling as lacking +common sense.”</p> + +<p>The boys needed no urging to maintain a close +watch ahead, and it wasn’t long before the blue line +of the distant shore loomed up into a rugged breastwork +of forest. As the forester continued to ply +his paddle with vigorous strokes, they watched with +increasing earnestness the scene ahead. To their +wonder, the shouts of the person had stopped.</p> + +<p>“Look sharp, lads,” were the Woodranger’s words, +while he kept at his task with unabated power.</p> + +<p>“I see something dark in the top of that maple +off to the left, which may be a man,” said Rob, +pointing in the direction he was looking.</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said Norman. “It is a man, who has +climbed into the top, or I am mistaken.”</p> + +<p>As the canoe bore them nearer the boys became +certain of this fact, though the person remained perfectly +quiet. The tree into which he had climbed +was not as high as others standing close at hand, +while it grew so near the shore that its branches +hung out over the water.</p> + +<p>“What does he mean by staying there?” asked +Billy. “Hadn’t we better shout to him, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet, lad, not yet. Watch him as close as +you would a cat, and have your weepons handy. He +may be there for a bit o’ an amazement against our +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>peace o’ mind, thinking we are greenies. It is a +man sure, and he do lay amazing still, seeing he has +clumb so high.”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger had himself taken a good view +of the mysterious stranger in the tree-top, before he +resumed his paddling.</p> + +<p>As the canoe continued to approach the spot the +man remained without moving, though once Rob +believed he was motioning to them.</p> + +<p>“He has seen us, that is certain. But what can +his queer actions mean? I can see his white face +turned toward us.”</p> + +<p>“It is Zack Bitlock!” exclaimed Norman, recognising +the strange person. “He cannot mean us +any harm.”</p> + +<p>By this time the canoe had got quite near, and +with another vigorous stroke the Woodranger sent it +gliding within easy view of the man in the tree-top, +and then stopped to take a careful survey of him.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI"> + CHAPTER XXI. + <br> + <small>A PECULIAR PREDICAMENT.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>“Sha’n’t I speak to him?” asked Billy Stark, +as he watched the peculiar action, or rather non-action, +of Goodman Bitlock, who remained perfectly +motionless.</p> + +<p>The Woodranger silenced the young speaker with +a motion of the hand, while he said, in a low tone:</p> + +<p>“There be nothing without reason, and there be +reason for that silence. Do you not see under the +maple that leetle varmint o’ a skunk? Can it be +possible the simpleton has been treed by a skunk? +Maybe it is not harder to believe than that a man +could be drove into ambushment by a porcupine. +Sich I have known.”</p> + +<p>Now that the forester had called their attention in +that direction, the boys saw an animal of the unpopular +family named by their companion. It was sitting +quietly on its haunches, looking up into the +tree with an air of triumph at having run its big +game to earth, or rather into air. But before either +of the boys could express their surprise at the situation, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>the Woodranger made another and more startling +discovery.</p> + +<p>“Look in the pines on the right, lads. D’you see +them dark balls curled up in the crotch? They are +what keeps our man so still. They be a couple o’ +wolverines, and, seeing they be tough leetle customers +to handle sometimes, it looks so we had +a lively leetle amazement ahead. Hi!”</p> + +<p>The single exclamation was called from the Woodranger +by a sudden commotion in both maple and +pine. Zack Bitlock, either becoming too tired of +remaining in his cramped position longer without +moving, or else alarmed at some threatening movement +of his enemies, shifted himself slightly higher.</p> + +<p>He had barely done so before two short screams +came from the pine, and a pair of lissom forms shot +out toward the frightened man, who uttered a wild +yell of terror, and pitched head first into the water. +The forester’s ever handy rifle was brought to his +shoulder, and its ringing report rang out as the twin +creatures were midway in their flight. The next +moment Rob Rogers fired, but whether his bullet +hit its mark or not, or whether he had shot at the +same animal the Woodranger had, one of the wolverines +suddenly plunged downward, while the other +reached the maple.</p> + +<p>It was the turn of Norman and the Stark boys +now, and simultaneously they fired at the snarling +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>brute in the tree, which, with an angry growl, dropped +headlong into the pond. But the creatures seemed +to die hard. The first had struck almost on top of +the struggling man, and instantly attacked him, with +snarls and growls of rage.</p> + +<p>Zack Bitlock shrieked for help, while he strove to +beat off his ferocious assailant. The second, with +a willingness to succour its mate really creditable, +went to its assistance, and between the two the situation +of the half-drowned man was getting to be +serious.</p> + +<p>Rob began to reload his weapon with all haste +possible. Norman shifted his gun, so as to club off +the angry brutes, while Johnny Stark proposed to +carry “war into camp” by jumping into the water, +that he might mingle in the fight.</p> + +<p>With a few swift, silent movements of the paddle +the Woodranger sent the canoe alongside the struggling +combatants, churning the water into foam with +their desperate endeavours. Drawing the long, keen +knife he always carried, the forester quickly buried its +blade to the handle in the nearest wolverine. But +before he could reach the other it retreated out of +harm’s way. Then, as if determined on a last furious +resort, <em>it charged on the canoe</em>!</p> + +<p>The Woodranger thus found it necessary to turn +his efforts toward keeping the frail craft right side up. +Johnny Stark hit the wolverine a tremendous blow +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>over the head, just as its claws grasped the rim of +the canoe, and Norman next dealt it such a whack +that it fell back into the water. As if possessed of a +charmed life, it still offered battle, but it finally +retreated, swimming rapidly toward a little headland +projecting into the pond a dozen yards below.</p> + +<p>“It’s going to get away!” cried Johnny, and he +would have followed it into the water had not the +hand of the Woodranger held him back.</p> + +<p>“Let the varmint go, lad! You can do no good, +and you may get a scratch you’ll remember. Let +the pesky leetle varmint go.”</p> + +<p>But the plucky wolverine was not destined to +escape. As it crawled upon the rocky shore, Rob +Rogers had his rifle to his shoulder, and, with a good +aim, he sent a bullet into its brain. Springing high +into the air, with an angry snarl, the doomed creature +fell upon the rocks.</p> + +<p>“Well done, Robby!” said the Woodranger. +“That fixes him. On the whole I’m glad the +creatur’ weren’t allowed to get away. O’ all the +four-footed denizens o’ the wilderness I set the wolverine +down as the meanest. It’s a sort o’ cross between +the bear and the weasel, having all the vices +and cunning o’ both, with their good qualities left +out, and the temper o’ the wolf added. It shows its +ugliness in its looks, its only claim to beauty being +its bushy tail, which it seems to have got from the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>wolf. Its savageness is only equalled by its cunning. +It is not as clumsy as a bear, and it can climb trees +almost as well as a wildcat. It is nothing unusual +for one to lie on some perch overhead, and wait for +something to come along for it to pounce on to and +devour. It don’t hesitate to take man for its victim, +and I tell you, with its long, sharp claws and teeth, +it’s no frolic to have it clinging to your back, as +I have found more’n once. But Goodman Bitlock +has crawled out o’ the water, and we must see what +we can do for him.”</p> + +<p>As the water was not over four feet deep where +he had fallen into the pond, Zack Bitlock had easily +reached the shore, the moment he had managed to +get clear from the wolverines. The water was dripping +from his clothes, and as he stood there, trembling +from fright and the chilling effects of his +impromptu bath, he presented a most ludicrous +figure.</p> + +<p>“Is thet ye, Ranger?” he asked between his +chattering teeth, as the forester brought the canoe +close to the shore. “I’m mighty glad to see ye.”</p> + +<p>“What sort o’ an amazement was you up to?” +asked the other. “Looked so you were handsomely +treed.”</p> + +<p>“Wuss’n thet, Ranger! I was clean, teetotally +cornered. I was jes’ beginning to wonder how I +was goin’ to git out, when ye hove in sight.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span></p> + +<p>“How did it happen?”</p> + +<p>“It didn’t happen, Ranger; it jes’ did. Ye see +I was comin’ down through th’ woods a-harkin’ fer +a deer, when all ter-wunst one o’ th’ gol-dangest, +meanest lookin’ skunks you ever seed slid under my +feet! Mebbe I didn’t holler, knowin’ whut th’ +pesky creetur’s air liable to do. When I’d got over +my holler I ups ol’ Ginger—they say guns do +better ef ye name ’em, so I chucked on mine th’ bes’ +I could think of, an’ th’ most ’propriate. Wull, +I let ol’ Ginger flop. Thet is I gin him a chaince, +but he didn’t flip a yip! He didn’t so much as +wink. Seein’ then th’ skunk wus purty lively, I +shinned the nearest tree in double-quick time. Then +I s’posed the tarnal warmint would git erway, but it +sort o’ set up guard duty like right under thet tree, +an’ th’ Lord only knowed when it’d git off. So I +begun to holler like blazes. When I had fetched +erbout my third whoop, I heerd a move in thet pine, +an’ I looked thet way, an’ saw thet pair o’ wolverines, +which I s’pose had been thar all th’ time waitin’ fer +me. I see thet my hollerin’ wuz goin’ to make ’em +take me at short notice, so I shet my mouth an’ +kept as still as I could fer th’ tree shakin’. But, +Lord Harry! I don’t know how I sh’u’d kem out ef +ye hadn’t kem erlong.”</p> + +<p>“Where’s your gun, Bitlock?”</p> + +<p>“Where I drapped yit when I clumb the tree. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>Didn’t expect me to climb a tree with a gun in my +fist, did ye?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I see the leetle varmint that driv you to +roost has left in a hurry, so get your weapon and +come with us, if you want to.”</p> + +<p>“I sh’u’d be most s’prisin’ happy to do so, +Ranger, but ye see ’twon’t do fer me to git inter +thet canoo in my wet clothes. I sh’u’d git my sartin +death o’ cold. No, Ranger, I must keep on my feet +till I git th’ circulation to movin’. Much obleeged, +though.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you say, Bitlock. We expect to camp +down by the Devil’s Den to-night, and you can follow +the shore to the place if you want to.”</p> + +<p>“Mebbe I will; I’ll see. I’m jes’ on aidge to +bark a deer.”</p> + +<p>Seeing they could not help him any further, the +Woodranger turned the canoe again toward the +north and sent it flying over the pond, leaving +Bitlock still standing on the shore wringing the +water from his clothes.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII"> + CHAPTER XXII. + <br> + <small>THE GUN-SHOT.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Little was said by the occupants of the canoe, +while the Woodranger continued to use the paddle +with his swift, silent strokes, until a cove on the +northeast shore of Massabesic loomed plainly into +view. The pines in that quarter grew quite to the +water’s edge, their long arms at places falling over +into the pond.</p> + +<p>“Take the paddle awhile, Rob,” said the forester, +“and I will drop a line for our supper, seeing we +have taken no game this afternoon. To-morrow +we surely shall not have to depend on sich supplies. +Not that I object to a good meal o’ Massabesic +perch or pike. At the mouth of some of its streams +I have pulled in as fine a salmon trout as you’d care +for. Ha! there’s enough for any two o’ you hungry +boys,” he declared, as he hauled in a fine specimen +of the finny tribe. “Two more sich as he, and we’ll +run in ashore.”</p> + +<p>Five minutes later Rob was sending the canoe +into a little bay, hidden from view until the beholder +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>was close upon it by a dense border of bushes encircling +the horseshoe-shaped shore. To the surprise +of the boys, they saw a well-worn path leading +back into the growth from the apex of the circular +retreat.</p> + +<p>“Is it possible you have been here so many times, +Woodranger, as to have made a beaten path into +the woods?”</p> + +<p>“Possible, my lad, but not probable. ’Tis another +trail o’ the reds. It leads back to another camping-place +o’ the dusky tribe. I generally seek this +place, as just above here it is extremely dry and +sheltered for a camping spot. It is elevated enough +to command a goodish survey o’ the water.”</p> + +<p>By this time the canoe had touched on the sandy +beach. The boys jumped out, and began at once to +remove their outfits. When the forester had concealed +his frail bark to his satisfaction under some +overhanging bushes, he led the way back into the +depths of the forest.</p> + +<p>After following the path for a short distance, the +little party found itself under the low-spreading arms +of a giant pine, which stood on the backbone of a slight +ridge of land. A background of high rocks on the +north and west formed a protection from the cold +winds, while the south was open to receive the sun, +making an ideal camping-place.</p> + +<p>“There is a cave just back here called the Devil’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>Den,” said Rob, who alone of the boys had been +there before. “We’ll visit it by and by. But first +I imagine Woodranger will want us to bring together +some wood for a fire.”</p> + +<p>“Sartin, lad, sartin; and while you be about that +I’ll set things in order here. If you go near the +cave I would not advise you to go in, as it is damp +and cold within at this season.”</p> + +<p>The four boys at once went in quest of the wood, +and they were so successful that in a few minutes +they had brought a good-sized pile of dried branches +and fallen saplings, so that the Woodranger was +enabled soon to have a cheerful fire blazing. Seeing +that the latter was busy about the forthcoming meal, +and that they were not needed, the boys started up +the hillside under the lead of Rob, to visit the cave +with the ominous name of Devil’s Den.</p> + +<p>They soon found themselves at the foot of an +immense cliff, which was rent and seamed in several +places. The largest of these fissures was nearly in +the middle of the rocky wall, and the young explorers +found that it led an unknown depth into the earth. +Billy and Johnny started to penetrate its recess, but +it was so dark and damp that, after going a short +distance, they were glad to turn back.</p> + +<p>“If I had a torch,” said the resolute Johnny, “I’d +go to the end.”</p> + +<p>“You’d have a smart tramp to get back for supper, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>if you went to the end,” said Rob. “There is +an account which says a dog once ran in here after a +fox, and though the dog was never known to come +out, he was heard barking underground two miles +away from here!”</p> + +<p>“Fudge, Rob! you know that is a story,” declared +Billy.</p> + +<p>“Ask Woodranger if it isn’t so—I mean the +story.”</p> + +<p>“Look here, boys!” called out Johnny, who had +left the others to wander into the forest; “here are +what look like two graves under this chestnut. Can +anybody have been buried here?”</p> + +<p>“Injuns!” declared Billy.</p> + +<p>At that moment the report of a gun rang out +clearly in the distance, quickly succeeded by a human +cry.</p> + +<p>“Who can that be?” asked Johnny.</p> + +<p>“Zack Bitlock, I think,” replied Norman. “I +wonder what trouble he has got into now.”</p> + +<p>Putting all thoughts of the grave mounds from +their minds, the four boys returned to the Woodranger +to consult with him in regard to this new +alarm. The forester was busily engaged in tending +the fish, which he had impaled upon spits improvised +from hazel sticks, and placed over the fire. Not +until he had seen the delicious morsels browned to a +nicety, and removed them from the fire, did he offer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>to reply to the anxious inquiries of his young companions.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I heerd the gun-shot, and likewise I heerd +a goodish part o’ the holler, as if the feller was a loon. +Likewise I hear him coming through the breshwood +near at hand.”</p> + +<p>As the Woodranger finished speaking, they, too, +heard a heavy, lumbering step in the woods just +below them, and as they listened to the sounds the +ungainly figure of Zack Bitlock burst into sight. +He had evidently seen the fire some time before, for +he was headed directly toward it. He had a wild, +scared look on his homely face, which made him look +more unprepossessing than ever.</p> + +<p>“Lord Harry!” he gasped, as he staggered into +the little arena holding our group of hunters, “I +never was so scared in my born life. That air +weepon o’ mine has gone stark, starin’ mad! A +leetle spell ago I axed it to speak its piece, an’ it +never yipped. Jes’ now, as I was walkin’ erlong, it +begun to hiss and sputter, and then flew off like a +wildcat! I hove it aside an’ run fer life.”</p> + +<p>Bitlock was greatly excited, and he could not +stand still while he told his story. Instead of replying +to him, the Woodranger said:</p> + +<p>“Draw round, lads, and help yourselves to the fish. +Br’iled fish to be good must be eaten warm from the +coals. Then, too, as soon as you have satisfied your +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>appetites, you had better lop down some of them +boughs, if you want any protection for the night. +As for myself, I’m fain to allow I do not care for +sich contraptions. But seeing you are less used to +outdoor life, and the nights be a bit coolish at this +season, I want to know that you are comfortable. +Come up, Zack, and eat a bit o’ br’iled fish. It will +warm you ’mazingly.”</p> + +<p>“Gol dang it, Ranger! I’m going home. That is, +if I can get Rob to take me over th’ pond.”</p> + +<p>“’Twon’t do, Zack. Ketch your death o’ cold in +that soaked skin. Stop till morning, sure. Eat and +get dry now.”</p> + +<p>Goodman Bitlock was glad enough to obey, and a +minute later he was eating voraciously, and after +supper he hovered over the fire, so as to dry his wet +clothes. Under the direction of the forester the +boys soon constructed a comfortable bough house. +By the time this was finished it was quite dark, and +the stars were beginning to peep out in the sky.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"> + CHAPTER XXIII. + <br> + <small>THE FOREST TRAGEDY.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>When at last the party had got comfortably +settled around the cheerful camp-fire, Rob asked:</p> + +<p>“Are those mounds up near the Devil’s Den the +graves of white people, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>“One is and one isn’t, lad, though I reckon the +good angel has writ out their records alike. Them +graves were made for an Indian maid and her white +lover. It was one o’ them ’fairs with which these +parts be all writ over.”</p> + +<p>“So there is a story, Woodranger,” said the four +boys, in a chorus. “You must tell it to us.”</p> + +<p>“Mebbe it will while away a few minutes, and if +you’ll pile a leetle more bresh on the fire, I’ll tell you +the sad story o’ Princess Avawanda.</p> + +<p>“Among the first white settlers in this vicinity +was a Frenchman by the name o’ Le Roche. He +built him a cabin six or eight miles, as the crow flies, +to the east o’ this place. His wife came with him, +and a son about one and twenty.</p> + +<p>“This youngster, whose name I disremember, was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>fond o’ the chase, which shows to me that he was +above dissembling. I opine he was a likely lad. +During one o’ his perambulations o’ the woods he +run ’pon a deer. It was just above here, and, heedless +o’ any harm from it, he shot the varmint. +Scurcely had it toppled over before half a dozen reds +leaped out o’ their ambushment and caught him as +fast as a fish in a net. He was taken to their camp +on a goodish sized stream which flows into the pond.</p> + +<p>“The youngster, Le Roche, was knowing to leetle +o’ Indian warfare, but he supposed the reds weren’t on +the warpath at that time. So they weren’t, but this +was their fishing and hunting grounds, and, ’cording +to their idee, the deer hereabouts belonged to ’em. +But the older warriors seemed to persuade the younger +into the belief that it was best to let the young man +off, on the expectation that he would do better. Not +understanding a word o’ that which was said to him, +the youngster was ’lowed to depart in peace, though +he was not given back his gun.</p> + +<p>“Joyed to get off so easy, he didn’t mind his loss, +but when he come along hereabouts, he was overtaken +by the chief’s daughter, Avawanda, who had +brought his gun. She told in that tongue which he +did not understand that he must leave that corner at +once. She told him some o’ the warriors were ill-pleased +with ’lowing him his liberty. More by her +gestures than her words, she made him realise the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>risk she had run in coming to him, and the danger o’ +his situation. She had seen him during the council +o’ her race, and in the manner o’ a woman’s way her +heart had gone out to him. I don’t say she told him +as much as this, though it was an Indian’s way.</p> + +<p>“The youngster went boldly on his way, but he +hadn’t gone twenty yards afore some arrows whistled +around his head, and two reds leaped in front o’ him +flourishing their tomahawks and howling like wolves.</p> + +<p>“Though taken unawares, the youngster killed the +foremost, and engaged in a hand-to-hand grapple with +the other. It must have been a tough battle, for at +last, when the Indian girl, attracted by the cries and +struggles, reached the spot, both lay as if dead.</p> + +<p>“In the short time she had known the young +Frenchman he had awakened a strong passion in her +breast for him, and she bent tenderly over him to see +if there was any sign o’ life left. After a hasty examination, +she was joyed to find that he lived. But +it would be impossible for him to reach home. Not +daring to leave him there, she carried his well-nigh +lifeless body to the cave. Laying it down on a bed +o’ leaves, she started for his home, to tell his father +what she had done.</p> + +<p>“It was a bolder amazement than she knew in +going to the youngster’s father with the story of his +adventure, but she was honest and fearless, as the +innocent ever are. When Le Roche heard o’ the fate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>o’ his boy, at first he could ne’er believe it. But +Avawanda seemed honest, though he swore she +should die if she had deceived him. Poor child! As +if she had not risked enough in going there to him. +Should her father l’arn o’ it, he would put her to +death at once. But Le Roche got two or three +friends to go with him, and started for this place, +under the lead o’ the girl.</p> + +<p>“’Pon getting here, the wounded youngster was +not to be found. Sartin, then, that Avawanda had +led him into a trap, Le Roche swore he would kill +her. She fled for her life, and he and his companions +follered her.</p> + +<p>“Their anger making them resky, the leetle party +crept down to the Indian village. There they see +the boy a captive, and undergoing a course o’ torture. +It seemed the reds had found him at the cave while +Avawanda was gone, and, knowing he’d killed two o’ +their number, set about avenging their deaths. Maddened +by the sight, Le Roche called upon his friends +to attack ’em with him.</p> + +<p>“A bloody fight must have followed, though none +o’ the whites were killed. But do his best, Le Roche +did not manage to bear off his son, who somehow +was lost in the scramble. At last, having killed three +o’ the reds, and his companions being so hard hit they +could do no more fighting, the Frenchman was fain +to get away.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span></p> + +<p>“He was coming up the path just below here, +when he was surprised to see the Indian girl coming +toward the cave, with his boy’s body in her arms. +Without stopping to think that she might have resked +her life to save his son, and was then trying to get +him away from his enemies, though they were her +kin, Le Roche could think only o’ treachery. Believing +she was trying to hide his body, he shot her dead +with her loved one in her arms.</p> + +<p>“Upon reaching the side o’ his boy, he found that +the same bullet o’ his which had taken Avawanda’s +life had given him his death-wound! The youngster +lived long enough to tell his father that she had saved +him from the torture, and was bearing him to that +place until she could find some way to get him home.</p> + +<p>“‘She died for me, father! and the same bullet has +cost me my life, for otherwise I might have got well. +I have one favour to ask. Bury us here side by +side.’</p> + +<p>“The grief-stricken father could promise nothing +less, and so you see their graves here on this little +hill, within sight of the beautiful sheet o’ water +Avawanda loved so well. The granite walls o’ the +hillside, which were silent witnesses o’ that day’s +awful work, guard through the long years their +lonely rest. But don’t let the sad story rob you o’ +your evening’s enj’yment. How beautiful old Massabesic +looks under the starry eyes o’ the night. So +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>your gun is getting to be onsartain, Zack. Is as +glum as a beetle when you want it to talk, and pops +off in the most onreasonable way when it should +hold its tongue, eh?”</p> + +<p>By this time Bitlock had got his clothes pretty +well dried, and he had also got into a more amiable +frame of mind, so it was a free and cheerful group +gathered there under the pines amid the solitude of +the forest. For a long time the six talked about the +topics interesting them most, the Woodranger filling +in the waste places of conversation with many incidents +of his checkered life, until at last he signified +that it was time to seek rest.</p> + +<p>Scraping a few leaves together, and selecting a +moss-covered stone for a pillow, he stretched his +stalwart figure at full length on his primitive couch. +In a brief time he sank into a child-like slumber, a +smile, now and then, hovering over his bronzed and +bearded countenance, as if some sweet vision of +happy days gone by had flitted through his dreams. +Bitlock was soon snoring loudly close by the fire. +Norman and the other boys gladly lay down on +their simple beds of leaves and boughs, covered with +their skin robes, and were soon enjoying their well-earned +rest.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"> + CHAPTER XXIV. + <br> + <small>BEAR’S CLAWS—THE TURKEY TRAIN.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>When the boys awoke in the morning they found +the Woodranger already astir. In fact, he had not +only brought the wood and re-kindled the fire, but +he had some fine fish broiling and had completed the +other preparations for breakfast.</p> + +<p>“Why didn’t you speak to us,” said Norman, +“and we would have helped you?”</p> + +<p>“Nay, lad, that would have been childish in me. +You will find afore night that you have needed every +bit o’ rest you have got. You have a goodish walk +afore you to-day.”</p> + +<p>“I think you said we should reach Pawtuckaway +Mountain to-day?”</p> + +<p>“I trust we shall be ’lowed to reach there by sundown, +though we shall have no water-courses to help +us out. But you have none too much time in which +to wash for breakfast. This fish to be at its best +needs to be eaten smoking hot. That is the great +secret o’ the flavour o’ all food. Nothing is so good +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>that has been ’lowed to lose the flavour o’ its +cooking.”</p> + +<p>During the meal, at Bitlock’s request, the Woodranger +concluded to let Norman and Rob take him +across the pond in the canoe, in order that he might +return home. Before they started, Johnny Stark +went in quest of the firearm, which the frightened +man had thrown away the previous night.</p> + +<p>The journey across the pond and back proving +uneventful, upon the return of Norman and Rob +the Woodranger carefully concealed his canoe, so +they might have it on their way back, after which +they “broke camp” at the Devil’s Den.</p> + +<p>Their course now lay through a wilderness of +vegetation. At first they advanced quite rapidly +through the pine forest, but upon reaching the +expanses of smaller hard woods, such as gray +birches, hazels, dogwoods, alders, sumachs, ironwoods, +water-bushes, grapes, apple shrubs, and running +hemlocks, which grew almost everywhere in the +swamp and along the margins of the streams, they +often found it difficult to get along. Here the +Woodranger showed the advantage of his training +by the greater ease and speed with which he picked +his way.</p> + +<p>“It comes very much o’ practice,” he said, as +Billy Stark for the twentieth time was sent flying +headlong to the ground by getting caught in a network +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>of vines. “If you had brought your foot +around with a swinging stride, and not tried to step +so boldly over it, lad, you ne’er would have got +caught as you did. But, alack a man, a lad like +you ne’er minds a tumble like that. I do believe +you enj’y it. It does you good. Look hyur, +lads!”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger’s speech had taken a sudden +turn, and ended with an earnestness which caused +the boys to hasten to his side with what speed they +could. He had stopped near the bank of a small +stream, and, as they joined him, pointed to some +freshly made tracks in the soft earth near the water’s +edge. The imprint was as wide as that made by +the forester’s moccasin, though shorter, so as to +give it a more round shape. Rob Rogers was the +first to recognise it, and he exclaimed, with some +excitement:</p> + +<p>“A bear’s track, Woodranger!”</p> + +<p>“B’ar sign sure, lad. And the creatur’ has been +here inside an hour. See how it has trod its way +to its drinking-place.”</p> + +<p>The boys had already seen a beaten path leading +to the place, and at once they said:</p> + +<p>“Shall we follow him up, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>The forester shook his head.</p> + +<p>“We have no use for him just now. Mebbe when +we come back we’ll try a hand with him. But you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>remember it is buck or moose that we are the most +detarmined to find. Until we have satisfied our +peace o’ mind in that direction other game must +wait.”</p> + +<p>Half an hour’s advance was then made in comparative +silence, when again the Woodranger stopped, +and, with a smile on his lips, pointed to the ground, +saying:</p> + +<p>“Can you read that sign, Robby?”</p> + +<p>The boy ranger and his young companions quickly +reached the spot, to see a smaller imprint than that +made by the bear, but which bore some resemblance +to it.</p> + +<p>“Wildcat!” was Rob’s prompt reply.</p> + +<p>“How do you know but it’s a cub’s track?” +asked the forester.</p> + +<p>“In the bear’s tracks there were traces of the +claws, but here there are none to be seen. Besides, +the track is not so round.”</p> + +<p>“Good for you, lad. It is a wildcat, and a big +one, jedging by its foot. How long since it was +here?”</p> + +<p>“Less than an hour. The earth is scarcely dry +here where the sun does not fall.”</p> + +<p>“Good jedgment, lad. But I reckon we have as +leetle use for cat as we have for b’ar at this time. +We’ll let the varmint go his way, while we go ours. +In the hollow o’er that ridge, if I mistake not, we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>shall find something for our dinner. Hark! hear +that?”</p> + +<p>The loud, piercing scream of a hawk had broken +the silence of the forest, and looking up through a +rift in the forest canopy they discovered the lone +bird circling in the air, as it kept up its cries of +alarm.</p> + +<p>“Let me get a shot at it!” cried Billy, excitedly.</p> + +<p>“A wanton waste o’ powder, lad,” said the Woodranger. +“Instead o’ firing away your ammunition, +let’s watch the bird a bit. I opine it is pretty well +frightened.”</p> + +<p>“What can have frightened it?”</p> + +<p>“A man and a white one at that. Just wait +a minute and see if I’m not right.”</p> + +<p>“How can you know it is a white man?”</p> + +<p>“Because a red is too often seen to raise all that +rumpus for, and—ha! just as I expected. And +the fool has burned his powder for nothing.”</p> + +<p>The report of a gun had been heard in the midst +of the forester’s speech, immediately following which, +with a louder scream, the hawk flew to a greater +height.</p> + +<p>“Who can it be?” asked Norman.</p> + +<p>“Not one you would be hankering to meet, if my +ol’ ears don’t deceive me,” replied the Woodranger, +resuming his advance.</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean Gunwad?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span></p> + +<p>“I do. None but sich a varmint would be wasting +his ammunition on a hawk. No truer saying +than ‘birds o’ feather flock together’ was e’er +spoken; and it is equally true that birds o’ feather +war on each other.”</p> + +<p>“But how could you tell this was Gunwad? You +must have had another reason for being so sure.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly, lad. I knowed it was the deer reeve +by the peculiar sound o’ his gun. If you want the +proof o’ sight we’ll perambulate that way.”</p> + +<p>“No—no! But can you tell any one by the +report of his gun?”</p> + +<p>“Ginerally, lad, after a fair trial. I find it is a +handy knack.”</p> + +<p>After this, little was said for half an hour. Norman +was thinking of the near presence of Gunwad, +and was wondering if his having come into that +region meant anything to him. In one respect +he was relieved to know the unprincipled deer reeve +was near; he could not be troubling those at home. +This fear had made him loath to leave them. In +the midst of his speculations he found that the +Woodranger had again stopped, and the boys had +imitated his example. As the little group waited in +silence, the younger members of the party wondering +what this sudden halt signified, a tremulous, +guttural cry, repeated three times in rapid succession, +reached their ears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span></p> + +<p>“There’s our dinner,” said the forester, in a low +tone, “and I will warrant you he is a fat old gobbler. +Mind you how husky his voice is. To save running +after him I will ask him to come and deliver himself +up.”</p> + +<p>When the Woodranger had finished speaking, he +placed his left hand to his lips, and half closing it, he +gave expression to a cry so like that of the wild +turkey that even Rob Rogers looked surprised. Giving +this sound three times in quick succession, he +stopped and listened with his companions.</p> + +<p>They didn’t have to wait long before the answer +was sounded, louder and clearer than the notes before. +Again the Woodranger gave forth his challenge, +and again he received his reply. When these +calls and replies had been made alternately half a +dozen times, it was evident the turkey was near at +hand. Each time the answering cry grew nearer +and clearer, until the forester, parting the shrubbery +with one hand, and pointing into the forest ahead +with the other, said, in a whisper:</p> + +<p>“See the old fellow and his brood! I s’pose you +are anxious to try your hands, lads, and you’ll have +no fairer chance. Take your pick, and fire when I +give the word.”</p> + +<p>It was a beautiful sight that greeted the eyes of +the boys, as their companion ceased speaking, and +one that must have stirred the heart of any sportsman. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>Marching through the forest, with head held +high, with the air of one leading a victorious legion, +strutted the largest turkey gobbler any of them had +ever seen. Close behind him came the hen, and at +her heels, following in single file, like a war-party +of red men going to battle, were the family brood of +ten, the young nearly as large as the parent turkeys.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding his great weight, the leader +stepped noiselessly over the leaf-strewn pathway, +while he was continually looking upward or sidewise, +on the alert for the least suspicion of danger. He +stopped abruptly in full view, his head bent slightly +over and his small, clear eye looking sharply ahead. +So suddenly had this been done, as if he had in some +unknown manner been warned of peril, that one foot +remained raised. In a moment every member of the +turkey train was motionless.</p> + +<p>The old chief of the feathered legion seemed about +to give expression to another cry, and the Woodranger +raised his hand as a signal for the boys to +fire. Norman had chosen a fine bronze gobbler of +good size, and his young companions had each selected +a victim, but before they had time to aim and +fire, a dark, lissom form was seen to spring from behind +a huge boulder upon the leader of the troop. +The hen gave a quick, sharp cry of alarm, and in the +twinkling of an eye disappeared with her brood.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXV"> + CHAPTER XXV. + <br> + <small>THE PLACE OF THE BIG BUCK.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>An exclamation of disgust left the Woodranger’s +lips, and at the same moment his long rifle leaped to +his shoulder. No sooner had his eye ran along its +barrel than the ringing report of the firearm awoke +the solitude of the forest. So swiftly had one act +followed another, that the triumphant cry of the +nimble assailant ended in a howl of pain, while it +made a second involuntary leap into the air in the +struggles of death. It fell about midway between +the little group of spectators and the now lifeless +turkey.</p> + +<p>“Rob me o’ my dinner in that way, will ye, ye +sneaking thief! I reckon it will be the last turkey +you’ll ever try to carry off afore my eyes.”</p> + +<p>With these words, showing more excitement than +was his wont, the Woodranger began to leisurely +reload his weapon.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked Johnny, without stopping to +look at the creature; “and where did the turkeys go +to so quick?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span></p> + +<p>“It’s a cat, lad, and a monster. It thought to +cheat us o’ our dinner, but I reckon Ol’ Danger gin it +a dinner it won’t digest. Let’s take a peep at the +creatur’.”</p> + +<p>As the Woodranger had said, the wildcat, for such +it was, was a big one, and as it lay there, though harmless +enough then, the boys could not help shuddering. +They found the turkey dead, too, though its slayer +had not mutilated its body.</p> + +<p>“It’ll make us a good dinner,” declared the Woodranger, +“and half a mile yon is a fit spot for us to +make our nooning. First I’m going to skin the cat. +While I’m doing it, you might pluck the gobbler.”</p> + +<p>The spot selected by the Woodranger for a stopping-place +was in one of the most beautiful valleys +they had ever seen. Through the centre a good-sized +brook ran merrily on its way, while a pine-clad +hill on the north completely sheltered them +from the cold wind, and the sun shone down upon +the spot with a genial warmth. The boys at once +set about gathering some dried wood with which to +build a fire. During one of these searching trips, +Norman ran upon an apple-tree standing in a sheltered +nook, which was still laden with fruit. These +apples were uncommonly large and fair for wild fruit, +and so well had the tree been protected from the +frosts that they still retained their flavour. Upon +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>tasting one of them and finding it so good, Norman +called to the others to join him.</p> + +<p>Such a feast of fruit followed as none of them had +ever enjoyed, while the Woodranger was nothing +loath to eat his share. In the joy of this find, the +turkey feast was put in the background, and baked apples +became an important part of that festive meal.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if the Injuns ever eat any apples?” +said Billy, regardless of his grammar.</p> + +<p>“Weel, lad, do not flatter yourself that they have +never been to this very tree. I have heerd o’ there +being sich a tree somewhere in these parts, but I +ne’er had the good fortune to stumble upon it. +Apples and nuts made a goodish part o’ the living +o’ the reds during the autumn. I must say these +are the best apples I ever tasted. Neither does this +turkey require much effort to swallow. It was a +plump creature.”</p> + +<p>“Do wildcats often attack turkeys in that way?” +asked Billy, as they finally moved back from their +dinner, to seek comfortable resting-places for half an +hour before resuming their wanderings.</p> + +<p>“That is the cat’s favourite way,” replied the +Woodranger, as he made himself comfortable at +the foot of an ash which threw out its gnarled roots +in such a way as to afford arms upon which to rest. +“In fact, it is their only successful way. The turkey +is a wary bird, and the wildcat is its worst enemy. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>Still, the four-footed creatur’ stands but leetle chance +o’ ketching even a young turkey, so cautious is it by +instinct, and so fleet o’ foot. You have seen how +it can get out o’ the way o’ danger, to-day. Afore +you could wink an eye, every one was out o’ sight, +and a goodish hunt you would have had to find one +on ’em. The cat knows that its only chance o’ +ketching a turkey is by springing from a tree, so it +resorts to a trick. Ah! the cat is as full o’ quirks +and quibbles as a porkypine is o’ quills.</p> + +<p>“Getting its evil eye on a brood o’ turkeys, instead +o’ trying to keep them from knowing it is round, it +takes particular pains to be seen. It steals up +behind ’em, until it is seen, when it steals away with +well-feigned sheepishness. Then it reappears, and, +after having got the attention o’ the turkeys, skulks +out o’ sight ag’in. This it keeps doing until it has +got the direction the turkeys are going fixed in its +cunning head. After that, it steals away by a roundabout +course and conceals itself in the path of the +turkeys, where it waits till they come along. Thinking +their enemy is behind them, the turkeys are not +so watchful in front, and so they fall into the trap. +You have seen the result o’ the cat’s manœuvring +to-day. It is not often at this season one sees such +a brood o’ turkeys still together, but these were, +doubtless, on their way to the sea-coast, where they +like to spend their winters, to return in the spring.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span></p> + +<p>After a short rest, the party again were on the +move, and, having now fairly entered the game-lands, +were wide-awake for sport and adventure. The incidents +of that afternoon were rapid and exciting +enough to satisfy their most prodigal desires, but it +would be scarcely interesting to detail them all. +Norman and Rob each shot a deer, while of smaller +game they got more than they could well care for. +The deer they dressed, and the Woodranger spitted +the meat upon tall, slender saplings, from whence it +could be taken home whenever they could do so, +while in the meantime it was safe from the clutches +of prowling beasts.</p> + +<p>Finally, as the sunlight was fading from the corrugated +crest of Mount Pawtuckaway, toward which +they had been going all day, the Woodranger halted +at the foot of a high, moss-covered cliff, near the base +of the mountain, saying, as he cast his keen eyes +about him:</p> + +<p>“I ne’er think we shall find a likelier place to +pitch our camp. It is well protected from the north +and west; there be plenty o’ pines to get your +boughs for your bed; and here be a goodish fountain +o’ the purest water in the world. I see no need to +go farther, and I jedge you lads are tired enough +to be glad to hear the news.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"> + CHAPTER XXVI. + <br> + <small>AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Mount Pawtuckaway is the highest of three +mountain peaks. Rearing its serried heights nearly +a thousand feet above sea level, this rocky range is +about as rugged a place as can be found in New +England. At that time it was covered, wherever +there was earth enough upon the rocks to support a +shrub of any kind, by a forest of stunted pines, hemlocks, +spruces, and cedars. But at frequent intervals +the naked head of some granite cliff raised its gray +crown into plain sight. Surrounding the heights at +their base were forests of pines, divided at certain +angles and corners by patches of white beeches, +black maples, or walnuts. In the distance a silvery +disc, glimmering above the tree-tops, marked the +shores of a sheet of water.</p> + +<p>The boys were tired, but they took hold with a +hearty good-will to assist the Woodranger in preparing +the evening meal, for they were hungry as well +as weary. Generous portions of the venison had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>been reserved, and as soon as a fire had been kindled +the forester was roasting goodly slices to an appetising +brown.</p> + +<p>At that season of the year evening comes on +quickly after sunset, and as the five finished their +camp meal, the last rays of daylight had faded from +the mountain crags.</p> + +<p>“You said, Woodranger,” ventured Rob, during +a lull in the conversation, “that there was a story +connected with the naming of this mountain Pawtuckaway. +We should like to hear it.”</p> + +<p>“There <em>is</em> an Indian legend, lad, which pretends +to explain why it is called by the name you give, +which means the place o’ the big buck. I don’t +mind telling the tale, though mebbe it be but a bit +o’ fancy work cleverly wrought by the red man’s +cunning. The reds <em>did</em> have a knack o’ weaving +pretty consaits together, the better than the white +man, perhaps, because he lived nearer to natur’.</p> + +<p>“’Cording to the traditions o’ the red man, this +locality has always been a favourite stamping-ground +for the brown deer. Among the many which lived +hereabouts was a buck, bigger, fleeter o’ foot, and +more cunning than any o’ his kind. So wide did his +fame become that hunters came from afar to trail +him down. But he had the knack o’ outwitting his +pursuers, none of whom were able to track him arter +he had reached the side o’ this mountain. So the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>simple red man kem to believe this buck possessed a +charmed life.</p> + +<p>“’Mong the others that come and hunted in vain +the cunning creatur’ was the Pennacook brave, +Kinkinnasett, the warrior o’ the flying foot. He +vowed by the stars that he’d run down the big buck +or ne’er follow the trail ag’in. There was a girl +mixed up in the ’fair, too, for Kinkinnasett loved an +Indian maid, who was also beloved by another. But +with sich coyness had she shown her favours that +both warriors were hopeful. At last, to settle a +matter that was beginning to stir bad blood, the +maid said she would marry the one who would bring +her the antlers o’ this buck. Kinkinnasett and his +rival at once set forth on a hunt which later became +a legend among the red men, the bold and fiery relating +it while the more timid held their breath. It +was told to me by an old chief in a low tone, while +he kept the camp-fire burning its brightest, for one +and all believed that the foolish braves had angered +the Great Spirit by their action.</p> + +<p>“Kinkinnasett, so the story runs, was the one to +start the big buck from its favourite haunt just below +here. It was then about midday, and he at once +gave chase. It was such a chase as Kinkinnasett +had ne’er known, as no living red man had e’er taken. +He had failed three times, with fair range, to bring +down the buck with his far-flying arrows, and now +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>he tried all the artifices known to him to entrap the +wary creatur’. When he had given it chase for +awhile, he paused to see if the hunted buck would +stop to look back.</p> + +<p>“Unlike the brown deer, many o’ which he had +run down ’twixt sun and sun, the star-eyed buck +did not stop,—did not look back! With his head +thrown back on his shoulders, and his broad antlers +cutting a path through the forest wherever he went, +the very mountain resounding with his terrible +tread, he bounded on and on, Kinkinnasett following +as best he could. Once completely around the +mountain did he pursue the buck, and, though he +boasted o’ the flying foot, he ne’er got any nearer +the fugitive.</p> + +<p>“From a high perch the rival Pennacook, Sagawa, +the Fox, looked down on the failure o’ his brother +brave, and he resolved, notwithstanding that he, by +doing it, broke the true code o’ hunters, to bring +down the buck with the charmed life, or prove that +it could not be done. Unknown to any one, he had +that morning dipped his arrow in the oil o’ the witch-hazel, +and under sich incantations as to ensure it the +power to pierce the spell that might be thrown o’er +a common shaft.</p> + +<p>“Seeing the buck finally coming near him, he +poised his stout bow that was fitted with the arrow +of cur’us power. The flying creatur’ was just below +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>him, when he sent the winged shaft on its deadly +mission. Then his joy knew no bounds, as he saw +the star-eyed buck o’ the charmed life actually fall +on his knees!</p> + +<p>“Sure now o’ his victim, if he could reach it +before Kinkinnasett should come along, he leaned +out over the rock, holding on by a shrub, so as to +swing himself downward. Under his weight the +bush parted from its frail support, and he was sent +headlong toward the rocks below, to what seemed +certain death. So thought Kinkinnasett, who had +got near enough to see the accident to his rival. To +his surprise, the warrior struck on the back of the +crippled buck. Then, instead o’ throwing off his +burden, the wounded animal sprang upon its feet +and bounded away, with Sagawa clinging to it!</p> + +<p>“Not one whit slower did the buck flee, so Kinkinnasett +was still obliged to do his utmost to keep +in sight o’ the wildest flight he had e’er seen.</p> + +<p>“After going half-way around the mountain ag’in, +and seeing that there was a chance to cut off the +fleeing buck, Kinkinnasett climbed a spur o’ rock, +and let himself down right in the pathway o’ the +creatur’. It was a critical p’int, where a gulf o’ a +hundred feet opened at his feet, and, on the other +hand, a sheer wall o’ granite reached upward from +a rocky shelf not more’n a gun-rod wide. Sure o’ +his game now, Kinkinnasett raised his bow for his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>last shot. Then the heels o’ the buck rattled around +his head, and he was flung back upon the narrow +shelf o’ rock, while the desperate animal, with +Sagawa still on its back, leaped o’er the brink +into the depths below! A terrific noise followed, +and, with the sound of rushing water ringing in his +ears, Kinkinnasett was left in darkness.</p> + +<p>“A party o’ Pennacooks, in search o’ the missing +warriors, found Kinkinnasett the next day, where +the heels o’ the star-eyed buck had sent him. It +was seen that he must soon depart to the happy +hunting-grounds, but he lived long enough to tell +them o’ the fate o’ Sagawa and the strange buck. +In the gorge, which had been dry before, a tempest +o’ boiling water was raging, the only evidence ever +found o’ Sagawa and the star-eyed buck. The reds +have always believed that the pond is bottomless and +that it would be death to the warrior who should be +bold enough to go near it. So the tale ends in +a tragedy, as most Indian tales do. It is natural +they should, for their lives were tragedies in themselves.”</p> + +<p>“I have been to the pond,” said Rob, “and an +ugly place it is. A quaking bog encircles it, so one +cannot very well get to the water. The first time +I was there it was still enough, but the next it was +boiling and tossing just as if there was a big fire +under it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span></p> + +<p>“Ah, lad,” said the Woodranger, “it is a onnatural +spot, and I have no hankering to hang around it.”</p> + +<p>“But I should like to have seen the star-eyed +buck,” said Johnny. “Do you suppose it was +bigger than a moose, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>“Scurcely, lad, scurcely. I opine the reds exaggerated +in their descriptions. It was but human +natur’ for ’em to do it.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you suppose we could find a moose, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>“We can find one pretty soon if we want to,” +replied the forester. “I have heerd the call o’ +a bull moose twice sence I was telling that Indian +tale. It was fur away, but it is coming nearer.”</p> + +<p>“Then we can see one! Can’t we stalk it, +Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>Billy Stark asked this question, but he was +scarcely more excited than his young companions.</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay, lads! Calm yourselves. Stalking +moose is dangerous bizness for youngsters, and I +may be committing a sinful indiscretion in permitting +it. You must promise me you will keep by me and +do just as I say.”</p> + +<p>“We promise that, Woodranger. Lead the +way!”</p> + +<p>“Hush, lads! it may not be the old fellow’s whim +to come any nearer, though it be a fine night for +creeping. List, lads!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span></p> + +<p>In answer to the Woodranger’s request, the boys +instantly became perfectly still, though their hearts +beat with unwonted quickness, as they listened and +waited. A perfect silence lay on the scene around +them. After five minutes of this breathless stillness, +when a strange feeling of oppression bound +one and all, the dull, heavy cry of an owl came from +the beech. It was actually a relief to hear it. Then, +from far away, was borne faintly to their ears the +plaintive, prolonged howl of a restless wolf. This +was answered from another direction, soon succeeded +by the scream of a wildcat not far distant. Again +the uneasy owl broke forth with his glum <em>tu whoot, +tu whoot</em>!</p> + +<p>These outcries, of nightly occurrence, had died +away, and silence once more reigned, when a wild, +peculiar sound filled the forest, ending more abruptly +than it had begun, as if the creature giving it utterance +had been suddenly checked in the midst of its +cry. It seemed a sort of cross between a grunt +and a roar, with a harsh, grating sound at the end. +Appearing to open from a far distance, it ended +apparently near at hand.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"> + CHAPTER XXVII. + <br> + <small>“CREEPING” THE MOOSE.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>“The moose!” exclaimed Rob Rogers, unable to +remain silent any longer. But a warning gesture +from the Woodranger enjoined silence again, and, +wondering what his object could be now, the boys +obeyed without a word.</p> + +<p>Three minutes passed, seeming to them half an +hour, when for the second time they heard the +strange call. This time, however, it came from an +opposite direction to the one before, and was farther +away.</p> + +<p>“It is as I opined,” declared the Woodranger; +“there be two o’ ’em. But they be drawing together. +It means a fight at their meeting-place.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could see it!” exclaimed the four boys +in the same breath and using exactly the same words.</p> + +<p>“It’s a good night for moose-creeping,” mused +the Woodranger. “The wind is right for us,” wetting +one of his fingers and holding it up to prove +what he had said. “I may be committing a great +indiscretion, seeing you are mere novices in woodcraft, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>but if you have a mind to obey me, I’ll resk it. +It’ll be a goodish tramp, and it has got to be made +as the painter creeps. The moose is wary,—is a +tough creatur’ when aroused. At this time o’ the +year he is the most dangerous o’ all the quadrupeds +that stalk the forest. Them out to-night are on the +war-path. Foller me if you want to see a sight +worth a night’s perambulating, but do it with light +heels and a clear head.”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger then carefully covered the fire, +and without further words started into the forest, +skirting the base of the mountain with that silent, +rapid step of his, which puzzled the boys to imitate. +By this time the full moon was peering over the +crest of the mountain on the east, giving the wild +scene that peculiar lustre belonging to its light. +Not a breath of air stirred the tree-tops, while the +atmosphere had that clear crispness belonging to +October.</p> + +<p>Speaking to his young companions only at rare +intervals, and then in whispers, the Woodranger continued +to thread the forest like a shadow for more +than a mile. The boys did their best to move +as silently as he, but somehow the dry twigs always +seemed to be where they stepped, though in all that +distance the moccasined feet of their guide had not +given back a sound.</p> + +<p>As soon as they had left the base of the mountain, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>their course had been through a growth of hard +woods, beech, maple, walnut, with the accompanying +smaller growths of kindred nature. The surface of +the ground was, for the most part, uneven, and often +they were forced to make considerable detours in +order to get around huge boulders piled in their way. +Sometimes, too, they were forced to climb sharp +ascents, and then descend broken declivities. During +all this time, no sound of the moose had reached +their ears.</p> + +<p>But now the Woodranger paused on the summit of +a rocky hill, covered with a growth of oaks, which +was not so dense but that the moonlight threw broad +bars of silver across their path. As if anticipating +what was coming, the forester bent his head forward +in a listening attitude, while his whole form remained +as motionless as a statue. The four boys, without +questioning his motives, did as he did, though keeping +so quiet soon brought pains to every joint.</p> + +<p>The call of the moose was now plainly heard, and +freighted with greater anger and impatience than +before. Its reply came almost instantaneously this +time, and from so near at hand that the younger listeners +could not help starting with surprise.</p> + +<p>“They are going to meet, as I thought, by the +little pond half a mile below here,” said the Woodranger, +in his cautious whisper. “Lads, if we go on, +it must be with a proper trailing o’ good jedgment. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>It isn’t the knack o’ a good guide to worry his comrades, +but knowing a lad’s wanton waste o’ care and +patience, I don’t want you to run your heads into +the slipping noose without proper words spoken. I +have promised to get every one o’ you home in presentable +shape, and I ’low I think more o’ that leetle +word’n all the moose round old Pawtuckaway. Let +me see your weepon, Norman.”</p> + +<p>Our hero handed the forester his rifle, and the +other, holding it so the moonlight fell fairly upon it, +looked carefully at its priming, and also scanned the +firearm from butt to muzzle.</p> + +<p>“You put in the amount o’ powder I told you, +lad?”</p> + +<p>“I did, Woodranger.”</p> + +<p>“And rammed the lead down keerfully, properly +wadded?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Let me take your hand, lad.”</p> + +<p>When the guide had taken the proffered hand and +held it fully a minute, he loosened his clasp, and, +giving back Norman his rifle, declared:</p> + +<p>“You’ll do, lad. Robby I know o’ old; but it +won’t do any harm for me to look at your priming, +Robby. Often one’s futur’ depends on the way he +has placed a grain o’ powder.”</p> + +<p>Rob’s weapon passing satisfactory examination, he +then looked at the guns of the Stark boys, both of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>which he re-touched with a few grains of powder +from his horn, after which he looked closely at the +flints. As he had done with Norman, he held the +hand of each, and found Billy labouring under great +excitement. Saying nothing of this, the Woodranger +continued:</p> + +<p>“You will walk next to me, Norman, then Johnny +and Billy, with Robby to kiver the rear. Remember +under no circumstances are you to fire until I give +the signal. I know o’ a good kiver for us, which we +will reach at our next perambulation. The breeze +still comes from the west-sou’west, and the night is +favourable for you to see an amazement you’ll ne’er +disremember, unless that ol’ bull disapp’ints us. You +ne’er can tell what a bull moose is going to do next. +Mebbe this one is mad enough to foller to the eend. +<em>Creep!</em>”</p> + +<p>With the utterance of the last word, the Woodranger +stealthily advanced again, his companions at +his heels in the order mentioned. To Norman, more +than to his young companions, this noiseless march +through the wilderness was something strange and +thrilling, though he had never felt calmer in his life. +While he had never seen one, he knew that the +moose was the monarch of the New England forests. +If the Woodranger had shown unusual caution in +allowing them to accompany him so far, he understood +the reason underlying his action, and he resolved +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>it should be no fault of his if the other ever +had reason to regret the risk he was taking.</p> + +<p>He was in the midst of these reflections when the +forester again stopped, and motioned for his companions +to do the same. They had now gained the +edge of a thicket of hemlocks, a few rods in length, +which grew on a slight eminence of land. Through +this brush barrier was to be seen, here and there, +a glimmer of water. But they had not taken a second +glance about them before the cry of one of the +moose, now clearer and more startling than ever, +was heard.</p> + +<p>“He’s near by!” whispered Rob. “I wonder +where—”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger checked him with a motion of +the hand. Then he dropped silently upon his hands +and knees, and began to crawl into the midst of the +hemlocks, beckoning for the others to follow. Nothing +loath, they soon gained his side. At that moment +a loud splash in the water was heard. Then +they gazed on a sight well worth all the pains they +had taken.</p> + +<p>Outlined in the clear moonlight, with a vividness +which exaggerated his size and made him seem to +the boys like a monster beast, the moose stood in +plain sight of the curious watchers. The water +of the pond reaching nearly to his knees, he had +thrown his antlered head up, expanded his nostrils, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>and sniffed the still air for danger, or an answer to +his challenge.</p> + +<p>As they watched the giant creature, he swayed his +head to and fro with a sort of seesaw motion, without +moving the body or limbs. At that moment +Norman felt the Woodranger’s hand laid on his +arm, and, as the grasp tightened, he was led, as if +by intuition, to look toward the forest on their left. +He could scarcely suppress an exclamation of +amazement, as he looked on an exact counterpart +of the first moose, except that the newcomer, +which was moving through the growth at a shambling +trot, was larger and more fierce-looking than +the other.</p> + +<p>How the ponderous and ungainly creature, with +an apparently clumsy, unwieldy gait, could move +with such ease and silence, was a mystery to the +young onlookers. But, as noiselessly as he had +come, it was certain his rival had been warned of +his approach. The head of the waiting moose stopped +its gyrations, but the grating of his teeth was +plainly heard.</p> + +<p>When within fifty yards of the moose in the +water, the newcomer halted. He was now nearly +opposite our little party, and would have afforded a +good mark for the Woodranger’s rifle. But his +weapon, as well as those of the boys, was single-barrelled. +Should he prove successful with his shot, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>it would in all probability arouse the other moose to +attack them, and prudence demanded that he move +with extreme caution in challenging two such foes. +Then, too, he had a desire nearly as strong as that +of his young companions to see what the fierce +animals would do to each other.</p> + +<p>At that moment, however, a change suddenly came +over the attitude of the smaller moose, which began +to sniff the air in an uneasy manner. The meaning +of this was made apparent by the words of the +Woodranger, spoken in a cautious whisper:</p> + +<p>“The wind has changed! He has scented us. +We are in for an amazement!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"> + CHAPTER XXVIII. + <br> + <small>THE BATTLE OF THE MONARCHS.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The boys understood at once their danger. Happily +for them, however, the situation was quickly +changed by a short, hoarse, rasping roar from the +larger moose. This cry, which made the young +hunters tremble, brought from the other animal an +answer even more terrific, leaving no doubt of his +acceptance of the challenge.</p> + +<p>What followed baffles detailed description. Renewed +splashing came from the edge of the pond. +The big, staring eyes of the second moose glowered +with rage and jealousy, his teeth champed together +with a harsh, grating sound, his hair stood erect, +while he lowered his horns so the points of his +mighty head stood out in front like the lance of +a doughty knight of old. Then his ponderous form +shot through the bushes, immediately following +which the breathless listeners heard another splash +of water, another grunt of defiance, a clash, like +the ringing of many swords, and the battle of the +monarchs was begun.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span></p> + +<p>The scene that succeeded was one never to be +forgotten by the witnesses. It was evidently from +the start a combat to the death, and its whole aspect +was appalling. The clashing of their huge antlers +could have been heard for miles on that clear, still, +frosty night. Reeling back from the first shock, +the furious antagonists rallied with redoubled vigour, +swaying from side to side, twisting their ponderous +necks, each striving with limb and body, head and +antlers, to overpower his rival.</p> + +<p>Such a struggle could not last long. Soon the +smaller moose was pushed back toward the shore +of the pond, whose water was churned into foam by +the combatants. It was already evident that the +other was to be the victor. Then, above the clashing +of the terrible horns, sounded a bellow of pain. +The huge antlers of one of the opposing monarchs +was now crimsoned with blood. The next moment, +with another roar of rage and suffering, the other +staggered sidewise, and then was hurled to the +ground with a shock which made the earth tremble +for rods away.</p> + +<p>With a grunt of triumph the victorious brute, +shaking aloft his cruel, reeking horns, looked around, +as if expecting another enemy ready for him. Save +for his heavy breathing, not a sound broke the stillness +of the scene. As far as the little group of spectators +could see, the fallen monarch lay perfectly still.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span></p> + +<p>The victor stood under the edge of the forest +overhanging the pond, where the bars of moonlight +showed his gigantic form plainly to the concealed +hunters.</p> + +<p>“He scents us!” whispered the Woodranger. +“He’ll find us in a jiffy, onless he takes it into his +head to go away, which it ain’t at all likely he will +do in his ugly mood. No, he won’t run off now, +and we don’t want him to if he would. Stand firm, +lads, and when I give the word fire. Don’t waste +your powder.”</p> + +<p>The big animal had begun to roll its heavy head, +and show signs of greater uneasiness.</p> + +<p>“It’s too far to resk a shot,” muttered the Woodranger, +but not loud enough to be heard any distance. +“The time to take him will be when he crosses that +bar o’ moonlight yonder. Norman, hold your shot. +’Twon’t be best for all to fire at first, as one can +ne’er tell what a bullet is going to do with a moose. +Be ready for the signal, Rob, and kiver that dark +spot behind the fore leg. Johnny and Billy follow. +Now for an amazement!”</p> + +<p>As he finished speaking in his low tone, the +forester drew the barrel of his rifle across one of the +small hemlocks, making a noise like the scraping of +a moose’s horn against a tree.</p> + +<p>He had no sooner done this than the moose, +evidently believing it to be the movement of another +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>rival, gave a deep grunt, and started noiselessly +toward the little group in the thicket. Knowing +that the critical moment was at hand, the boys +clutched their weapons with firmer holds, and the +three who were to fire at the Woodranger’s signal +raised themselves, as silently as possible, on one +knee, and held their rifles in readiness for the +word.</p> + +<p>“When his shoulder comes under the moonlight,” +whispered the Woodranger. But, as if knowing by +some strange intuition that it was the danger-line, +the moose paused in the shadows of the deep forest +before reaching the little opening. For three or +four minutes he stood there peering into the space +around him, listening for some sound to guide him.</p> + +<p>At last, as if intending to circle the dangerous +ground, as is the habit of the creature, before charging +an unknown enemy, the moose began to move +off into the deeper woods. The boys felt their +muscles relax, though big lumps had come into their +throats and they could hear each other breathe. It +was a disappointment to see the big fellow go away +without trying to get him.</p> + +<p>The Woodranger was evidently as anxious as they, +and he had no intention of losing the opportunity of +capturing the monster, or to risk a more unfavourable +situation. Again he scraped his rifle barrel across +the hemlock, and then he gave expression to a grunt, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>imitating the moose so perfectly and sounding so +near that the four boys gave starts of terror in spite +of their schooling. But this was forgotten in the +exciting scenes quickly following.</p> + +<p>The moose stopped abruptly in his silent advance, +turned sharply and, regardless of the consequence, +bounded forward with all of his former rage.</p> + +<p>Ever on the alert, Rob Rogers was ready for the +monster, and as his huge form dashed into the opening +his rifle rang out on the night air. A moment +later the weapons of the Stark boys pealed forth +simultaneously. But the moon makes an uncertain +light for the best marksman, and if the boys hit +the desperate animal, their shots did not in the least +check his advance. With more fury than ever he +charged on the little party in the hemlocks.</p> + +<p>Norman, feeling that it was time for him to act, +had raised his rifle to take aim at the next favourable +opportunity, when he felt a thrill of horror at the +sound of another moose at his elbow.</p> + +<p>The Woodranger had already heard the cautious +movements of the moose in the rear, and its low, +harsh grunt had barely fallen on Norman’s ears +before the forester exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Look to the other, lad! I’ll care for the creatur’ +in front.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"> + CHAPTER XXIX. + <br> + <small>TEST SHOTS—THE SNOW-STORM.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It was indeed a moment fraught with great peril +to the little party. As if it were not enough to meet +the enraged monster in front without the appearance +of this second giant, stealing upon their rear so +swiftly and silently!</p> + +<p>Quickly understanding the situation, and vexed +to think he had missed the moose at which he +had fired, Rob Rogers began to reload his gun +with a dexterity an older woodsman might have +envied. In a trice he had poured a stiff charge +of powder into the barrel of his weapon, and, as +brief as was the interval, he was actually dropping +a bullet down its throat as the ringing sound of the +Woodranger’s firearm awoke the silence. In answer +to “Old Danger’s” loud alarm, the oncoming moose +gave a terrific roar of pain, staggered for a moment +in his advance, and then fell in a huddled heap a few +yards away.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Norman had not been idle. Knowing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>that not only his life but the safety of his companions +as well depended on his efforts, he calmly faced +the newcomer. The report of the forester’s rifle had +scarcely rung out before that of his own succeeded. +Then there was a second outburst of pain, a crash +in the undergrowth, and Norman suddenly felt himself +hurled fiercely to the earth.</p> + +<p>The charge of the dying moose was its last +movement, for it fell near the young ranger, one +long fore limb over his body and the bulky neck +over his head!</p> + +<p>“Norman’s killed!” cried Billy Stark, the first to +break the silence following the end of the startling +fight. “The moose—”</p> + +<p>“God spare him!” cried the Woodranger, ignoring +everything else, as he sprang to the side of +the unconscious youth. With swift action he lifted +the moose’s leg, and gently dragged our hero away +from the body of the dead creature. Then he fell +upon his knees over him and began to rub his hands +and chafe his temple. “I’ll ne’er lift head again if +he be dead. Look up, lad! Open your eyes. Smile +once a-more!”</p> + +<p>The other boys had now gathered about the +spot, upon which the pale moon threw a weird light, +making their forms look phantom-like, as they flitted +to and fro.</p> + +<p>“Is he dead?” asked Rob, in a low tone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span></p> + +<p>“I pray not, lad. Get me a leetle water from the +pond.”</p> + +<p>Rob lost no time in obeying the simple command, +and then, as the Woodranger bathed Norman’s brow +with the cooling liquid, he exclaimed, happily:</p> + +<p>“He lives, lad! Thank God I am not his slayer +in dragging him down here.” Then, as if this were +not sufficiently plain, he added: “It would have +seemed like wanton killing for me to have ’lowed +him to be taken away in that keerless manner. I +oughter knowed! I oughter knowed!”</p> + +<p>The strong man showed great emotion, and as +Norman started to a sitting posture he caught him +in his arms, crying:</p> + +<p>“Forgi’ me, laddie, forgi’ me! Say that you are +not hurt and that you forgi’ an ol’ man’s keerlessness. +I love thee none the less, lad, that I ’lowed +you to fall in sich a trap.”</p> + +<p>“I am not hurt, Woodranger,” said Norman, now +able to think and act clearly. “The old fellow did +give me a hard thwack over the head, but I think I +came out of it better than he did. Is the other one +dead?”</p> + +<p>“I think I may be safe in saying so, seeing Ol’ +Danger spoke his purtiest piece. But that was an +awful indiscretion o’ mine. I do not wish to dissemble, +but I was deceived o’er that other creatur’. +I had no idee he had the life to do that.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span></p> + +<p>“Do you think it is the moose which was beaten +by the other on the shore of the pond?” asked Rob, +who showed great joy to find that his friend had +come off so well, after all.</p> + +<p>“I think so, lad. He wasn’t so hard hit as we +s’posed. But you may see for yourself.”</p> + +<p>Taking the hint, Rob ran out to where the battle +between the giants had taken place, and though he +found ample evidence of the fight, he failed to find +the body of the smaller moose. There could be no +longer any doubt. He had rallied sufficiently to +make his attack on Norman. It was a light-hearted +group of moose hunters which gathered about the +huge forms of the monarchs of the wilderness.</p> + +<p>“You have got a knack at shooting, lad,” said the +Woodranger, addressing Norman, “or you could +ne’er have fired a shot like that. Your life depended +on it. I had to use my ammunition on the other, +or it might have fared ill with us from him. Mind +you, I say <em>might</em> have fared ill, for no man can foretell +what a mad moose may do.”</p> + +<p>“To think,” said Rob, who had not recovered +from his chagrin at the thought that he had missed +his mark, “that I should have blundered so. Don’t +blame me, Woodranger, but I never felt more certain +of my aim.”</p> + +<p>“Ne’er chide thyself, lad. Older gunners than +you have missed their moose. But ere we mourn +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>let us see if you did not after all send the bit o’ lead +where it oughter done its duty.”</p> + +<p>Upon examination, it was found that all three of +the bullets fired by the three boys had hit the animal, +and one of them had touched a vital spot. This +proved to be Rob’s bullet beyond dispute, so that he +felt in better spirits.</p> + +<p>“You see, lad, you have no reason to complain. +You did remarkably well; but a moose, like a red, +dies hard. Perk up, lad! it’s myself who desarves +the chiding for throwing away my lead on a creatur’ +a’ready death-struck. They be monster moose. +This a-one will not weigh less’n thirteen hundred, +while the other is scurcely a hundredweight lighter.”</p> + +<p>Continuing to talk while he kept his hands busy, +the Woodranger soon removed the antlers of the +giant brutes. The horns from the larger, as near as +they could estimate, were over five feet, and the +blades were over a foot in width. This pair had +twenty-six points, while those of the other, but a +trifle smaller, had twenty-four. Both pairs were in +good condition, and the boyish possessors felt extremely +proud of them, it having been voted that +Norman should have those belonging to the moose +he had killed, while Rob seemed entitled to the +others. The Woodranger waived all claim to them.</p> + +<p>“You fairly ’arned ’em, lads. I have memory +sufficient o’ this amazement without sich reminders.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span></p> + +<p>Altogether it was an adventure none of them would +be likely to forget, but it had ended happily, and all +were pleased with their night’s work. It was past +midnight before they got back to their camping-place +under the cliff of old Pawtuckaway, and the boys +were glad of an opportunity to rest. Both moose +had been dressed by the Woodranger, and the meat, +after reserving a generous portion to take to camp, +had been spitted upon trees, whence they could get +it later.</p> + +<p>The sky was then overcast, and inside of two hours +it was snowing hard, so that four or five inches fell +before sunrise. It continued to snow until noon, +and the hunters remained in camp under such poor +shelter as they had hastily raised. The tedium of +the occasion was removed by the Woodranger’s +quaint stories of forest life, of which he seemed to +have no end. His keen power of observation was +apparent in all that he said, and the boys learned +more that day than they had ever dreamed before of +the lives and habits of the dumb creatures of the +wilderness. That afternoon they had a grand hunt +for deer, succeeding in getting two fine specimens.</p> + +<p>The next day the boys were glad to return to their +homes, loaded down with as much game as they +could carry, with several loads carefully placed where +the wild beasts could not reach it, for them to go +after whenever they should find it convenient. While +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>we are speaking of the matter, it may be well to +say that this was done at one trip, through the kindness +of Mr. Stark, who lent the boys his oxen to +draw home the load. There were roads and cart-paths +to within two or three miles of Pawtuckaway, +which they followed with the team, making it easier +to go and come, though there had to be a goodly +amount of lugging and tugging to be done at the +end of the route.</p> + +<p>Of course warm welcomes greeted them at home, +and Norman was relieved to find that nothing had +been seen or heard of Gunwad. However, they were +all to be forcibly reminded of him a few days later, +when one of the most disgraceful affairs which blot +the history of Old Harrytown took place.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXX"> + CHAPTER XXX. + <br> + <small>THE BURNING OF CHRISTO’S WIGWAM.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The Monday following his return from the hunt +Norman resumed work at Mr. Stark’s, and on his +way there in the morning he saw Christo, the praying +Indian, sitting in his doorway smoking his +blackened pipe with complacent ease. As he had +not seen the red man for some time, he stopped to +speak to him, little realising under what different +circumstances they were next to meet. Though the +Pennacook was inclined to be morose over the misfortunes +of himself and his race, he had learned to +like the lad. On this occasion Christo seemed very +glad to see him, and asked him particularly about +his hunt to Pawtuckaway, and his eye kindled with +some of its old-time fire as he spoke of the deer +hunts his tribe had made in that vicinity in the years +gone by.</p> + +<p>“Were the deer very plenty there then, Christo?”</p> + +<p>“Many moose; many bear; good hunting +grounds.”</p> + +<p>Though he usually carried his dinner, that day +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>Norman went home for his noonday meal. He was +seated at the table, eating, when he and his grandfather +saw Gunwad, with two strange men, coming +up the road. Expecting that the deer reeve was +about to pay them another visit, they were relieved +to see him keep on past the house. When he was +about to pass out of sight, however, he stopped in +the middle of the road, to shake his fist toward them +and stamp his foot in evident rage.</p> + +<p>“He disna want tae cum within reach o’ my staff!” +exclaimed Mr. MacDonald, moving uneasily on his +seat.</p> + +<p>“Never mind him, grandfather; he is not worth +a thought.”</p> + +<p>“He’s a fit hireling for the British usurpers!”</p> + +<p>“Nay, grandfather, now you do an honest body of +men an injustice. Gunwad is no more the representative +of the Tyngs men than—”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut, laddie! I houp the Woodranger has +got nane o’ his simple jabberings into yer noddle.”</p> + +<p>“I try to do all justice, grandfather. It is possible +the English will show that they have better +rights here than we and our friends. It is a foolish +quarrel, and it seems to me we are being made into +catspaws for those higher in power. But don’t let +anything I have said worry you. Mr. Stark tells +me the Tyngs men are planning to raise their +meeting-house the last of the week. He is going +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>to the raising, and I think I shall. I believe it is +the duty of all to turn out, for they have had a hard +time in getting it.”</p> + +<p>“A’ their ain faut, laddie. They hae nae business +here. I’m feart ye hae got ideas intae yer heid that +are nae healthy.”</p> + +<p>Leaving Norman to return to Mr. Stark’s as soon +as he had finished his dinner, let us keep in sight of +Gunwad, whose purpose in coming to Namaske was +to make another attempt to find and arrest Christo. +He had good reasons to believe he should be successful +this time, as he had been informed from a reliable +source that the red man was again at home.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, though he approached with somewhat +more boldness than before, he advanced with +some caution toward the humble abode, which again +had every appearance of being deserted.</p> + +<p>“If the red fool has run away this time I’ll scour +th’ woods till I find him!” muttered the deer reeve, +as he continued to draw nearer with his companions. +A little later he was no longer in doubt. Christo +was again missing!</p> + +<p>“The coppery sneak somehow got wind I was +comin’!” he exclaimed. “But he can’t be fur away; +he’s hidin’ somewhere in th’ woods. Mebbe he’s +watchin’ us, and thinks he can keep foolin’ me in this +way. I calculate two can play at some sich game. +I’ll tear down his ol’ shanty afore I’ll go back empty-handed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>this time. I hev a scheme thet’ll call him +in. Jes’ ye wait a minnit.”</p> + +<p>The deer reeve then scraped together a few leaves +and small sticks from the edge of the forest, and with +his flint and steel and tinder-box, which every man +carried in those days, he quickly set fire to the +combustible pile.</p> + +<p>“Ain’t ye afeerd ye’ll excite the onery cuss to fire +on us?” asked one of his companions, who could see +that this was a dangerous course to pursue.</p> + +<p>“It would be the dearest shot he ever fired,” replied +Gunwad. “Get me some more underbrush, +so the fire’ll rise higher. Ha, ha! nobody would +shed enny tears ef th’ ol’ bark hull itself should +burn.”</p> + +<p>He had barely uttered the words when a puff of +wind caught up the pile of burning matter and carried +it through the opening leading into the cabin. +Fanned then by the wind, the blaze spread rapidly +right and left.</p> + +<p>“For the Lord’s sake, Gunwad!” cried his companions, +“put it out before the old hut burns up!”</p> + +<p>Then, seeing the deer reeve showed no inclination +to stop the fire, one of them started forward to do so, +when Gunwad caught him by the arm and held him +back, saying:</p> + +<p>“Let it burn, Bedlock! It’s the best sight I have +seen for many a day. If that don’t call th’ red fool +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>home, I don’t know what will. Let’s get back where +we sha’n’t ’tract so much ’tention.”</p> + +<p>Gunwad seemed really pleased at the result of his +work, and he watched the fire streaming higher and +higher, until the home of Christo was fairly enveloped +in the flames. While the three stood gazing on the +burning wigwam, without lifting a hand to extinguish +the fire, new actors appeared on the scene.</p> + +<p>The newcomers were none other than Norman +and the Woodranger, the latter having come along +just as our hero was starting to return to Mr. Stark’s. +They had barely exchanged greetings before the fire +arrested their attention, and, realising the direction +from whence it appeared, they hurried toward the +place. But they reached the scene too late to save +the dwelling, which, being little more than a bark +shell, had burned quickly.</p> + +<p>The presence of Gunwad, who had not been able +to get out of sight in season to escape the eyes of +the forester, suggested to him that the deer reeve +had knowledge of the cause of the fire, and he said:</p> + +<p>“Did you, like us, Goodman Gunwad, get here too +late to save the red man’s home?”</p> + +<p>“’Pears to me yer eyes oughter tell ye,” replied +the deer reeve, who moved uneasily under the other’s +close scrutiny. “I reckon there won’t be any tears +shed over th’ cleanin’ up. Th’ fool might hev stayed +at home.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span></p> + +<p>“Where is Christo?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know as I’m obleeged to keep track o’ +th’ red nigger.”</p> + +<p>“I can ne’er dissemble, Gunwad,” said the Woodranger, +with more directness, as if the truth was +evident to him, “I hope you ne’er had any hand in +this. I say it for your sake, and for the sake o’ +every man in Harrytown.”</p> + +<p>“Bah! Th’ ol’ shell weren’t worth what has already +been said. The red was never overfriendly to me, +or any white man, for that matter, except it was <em>ye</em>.”</p> + +<p>This insinuation was lost upon the Woodranger, +who continued to make the deer reeve uneasy by his +steady look.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t the worth o’ the building, Gunwad, but +the principle at stake. It was all the abiding-place +the last o’ the red race had. Here, in sight o’ his +ancestral home, he had hoped to pass the remainder +o’ his natural days in peace. So he told me. I cannot +dissemble, Gunwad, but to me it seems a greater +wrong to fire the simple dwelling o’ this untutored +red than it would be to set torch to the proudest +home in the king’s land. Alack a man! I’m sorry +to see this and to know—”</p> + +<p>“As it happens, I did not set fire to th’ miserable +ol’ wigwam!” broke in Gunwad, who moved away, +muttering under his breath words he was careful the +other should not hear.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span></p> + +<p>“I am glad to hear you say that, Gunwad, for I +feared me you had committed an indiscretion which +would work you naught but evil. If you know how +the fire caught, I would advise you to see the unhappy +red man, and explain it to him.”</p> + +<p>“I shall do nothing of the kind!” exclaimed the +deer reeve, who the next minute disappeared from +the scene with his companions following at his heels.</p> + +<p>“I’m sorry o’ this,” said the Woodranger to Norman, +when the others had left them standing alone +by the smoking ruins. “I fear me it bodes harm to +the white settlers along the valley. It is just sich +amazements as this, as keeps the reds on edge.”</p> + +<p>“But there is peace with the Indians now, Woodranger, +and has been since Lovewell’s victory over +the Pequawketts.”</p> + +<p>“Soon to be broken, lad, soon to be broken, I fear +me. Alack a man! if the whites would remember +that they are civilised, and not lower themselves to +the level o’ savages in treating with ’em, far less +o’ innocent blood would be shed. But there’s no +reason in an angry man’s heart, and one like Gunwad +will kindle more fires than a hundred better +men can put out.”</p> + +<p>“Gunwad has gone down by the house,” said Norman, +who could not forget that fact. “I hope he +will not trouble grandfather, who is easily aroused +at sight of him.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span></p> + +<p>“I read your thoughts, lad. Go on to your work, +and I will see this Gunwad does not vex the old +man.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Woodranger. I shall feel safe if you +are near him. I suppose I must go on to Mr. Stark’s. +The days are short at this season of the year.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"> + CHAPTER XXXI. + <br> + <small>THE WOODRANGER SURPRISES MR. <span class="smcap">MacDONALD</span>.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Though the Woodranger started away from the +scene of the burned wigwam with Norman, he lingered +somewhat in sight of the place, as if loath to +depart. Even after he passed down the road from +sight of the spot, he cast anxious glances back, as if +he were looking for the homeless Pennacook.</p> + +<p>“I must try and see him, and counsel with him,” +he said, aloud. “I am sure the whites will gladly +make his loss good to him. But, alack a man! it is +not that. It is the arrow o’ wrong which will enter +his heart. He cannot understand that one Gunwad +does not represent the white population, as a red +may represent a whole tribe o’ his race.”</p> + +<p>As the Woodranger came in sight of Mr. MacDonald’s +home, he saw the old Highlander standing +in the middle of the road, looking anxiously in the +direction whence he was coming. At sight of him, +the other started to retreat toward the house; then, +as if thinking better of it, he remained by the side of +the highway, saying, as the forester approached:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span></p> + +<p>“What means yon fire, Maister Woodranger? I +felt it was a hame burnin’.”</p> + +<p>“So it was, my good man, and no home less than +that of Christo, the praying Indian.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sad for Christo, though I ne’er felt weel acquaint +wi’ the strange coloured man. Say, Maister +Woodranger, I houp there was nae unfair work in it.”</p> + +<p>“So do I, Mr. MacDonald. I trust that Gunwad +has passed by in peace?”</p> + +<p>“He did, maister. I dinna like that man.”</p> + +<p>“Not the best o’ company, sir. I trust you are +feeling well to-day.”</p> + +<p>“As weel as an auld man should expect. This +weather is tryin’ on sic’ a broken-doon frame as +mine.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, my good friend, you are not one who should +talk o’ a broken-down frame. You are ne’er an ol’ +man.”</p> + +<p>“Auld in sorrow, sir, if nae in years.”</p> + +<p>“That is because you live too much in the past, +my good friend. Live so the light o’ the futur’ shall +build beacon-fires along your trail. He who lives in +the past lives a life o’ double sorrow. It makes him +ol’ in his prime. It has made you ol’ in your sixties, +when sich a stalwart frame as thine should be +erect as the pine.”</p> + +<p>There was truth in the bold declaration, and even +in the bitterness of his heart the old Highlander +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>knew it. But to be told the fact in that sudden +manner amazed him. It was some time before he +could manage to exclaim:</p> + +<p>“Who taught thee that, man?”</p> + +<p>“I did not have to look to man to l’arn it. The +leetle, nimble-footed squirrel, his merry heart the +target for every thoughtless youth, taught me the +blessed secret. The bird has retold it in his song. +I read it in the heart o’ natur’. Man don’t want to +go to the school o’ civilisation to be told the things +which make life worth living. Your days have been +all yesterdays. You have fought the battle o’ Glencoe +till you have wrung your heart dry!”</p> + +<p>“Ye lie, man! I hae a mind to beat the truth +into yer thick held wi’ my staff. What dae ye ken +o’ sorrow?”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger, appearing perfectly indifferent +to his excitement, replied in his slow, simple manner:</p> + +<p>“All that any man knows who has seen all that is +dear to him slip away,—his heart plucked out by +piecemeal, and put back all bleeding and torn, to heal +as it might. Man is a poor, misguided fool who continually +prods his wounds, that he may let others see +’em bleed. Do not think me ungrateful, sir. I love +thee as a son might a father.”</p> + +<p>“I canna understand you!” muttered the old +Highlander. “I—I think ye be a MacDonald!”</p> + +<p>“As if that was the highest compliment you could +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>pay me. I have no knack o’ dissembling; if you +mean I’m lacking in common sense, then out with it, +man. What availed all the boasts o’ your MacDonalds? +They were the weakest in their strength, the +most foolish in their wisdom! You remind me o’ an +oak, which one stroke o’ the lightning blasted while +it stood proudly defying its wrath. Pardon me again, +sir, for my tongue does babble like a brook, which +to be made useful, must be dammed.”</p> + +<p>Mr. MacDonald, used all his life to speak his mind +without being contradicted, was dumfounded. At +first, he was angered, then perplexed, and then he +finally managed to say, though his words were scarcely +in keeping with the trend of the conversation:</p> + +<p>“Ye’re a Scotchman?”</p> + +<p>“If I am, it was my birthright; if I am not, I do +not bewail the fact.”</p> + +<p>“A Scotchman,” resumed the Highlander, “and +yet gaun amang the boastful Britons, an’ carryin’ a +French gun;” as if this last fact was the greatest +sin.</p> + +<p>“The oak growing beside the poplar, sir, is none +the less an oak. I’ve seen a birch growing from the +rotten side o’ a maple, where a seed had somehow +lodged, but it was still a birch, as pure as the mother +stock. I habitate with all men equally, and not less +with my red brother whose ways are peaceful. As to +carrying a French rifle, I cannot dissemble. Did +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>they make one more to my liking I should not be +above carrying one. As to the weapon I have here, +which I am free to confess is a loved companion, it is +a bit o’ a consait o’ mine. The stock, it may be, was +made by a Frencher, as I took it from the hand o’ +Father Ralle, as the red-hearted priest fell on the day +his horde was routed at Norridgewock. The barrel +was sadly twisted, and not liking the thing, I had one +wrought by the cunning o’ Old Seth. It may be he +did follow something the Frencher’s style, but he +was not ashamed to put his mark on it. That tells +whether it be French or not,” holding up, as he +spoke, the firearm so Mr. MacDonald could read, +engraved on a tablet sunk into the stock, the initials +“S. P.”</p> + +<p>Those letters stood for the name of the best +known man in New England at that time, Seth +Pomroy, “the Gunmaker of Northampton,” afterwards +noted as a soldier in the Indian wars and the +Revolution. Many of the brave men of the Woodranger’s +days carried rifles of his make, which were +not excelled by any that could be found.</p> + +<p>At that moment, Rilma, who had been watching +the two from the door, rushed forward with childish +impetuosity to greet the Woodranger, but her grandfather +would fain have kept her back.</p> + +<p>“Bide in the hoose, lassie. I will soon cum in +mysel’.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span></p> + +<p>“But I want to speak to Woodranger, grandfather.”</p> + +<p>“Back, I say! A man who openly boasts o’ +seekin’ the companionship o’ wild beasts in preference +to men is nae fit company for sic a wee lassie +as thee.”</p> + +<p>Rilma retreated, as ordered, though she could not +help showing her disappointment. The Woodranger +turned silently away, and without another word +started down the road. But Mr. MacDonald called +to him:</p> + +<p>“Had on, man! I havena said my last wird wi’ +ye yet. I wud question ye much more.”</p> + +<p>The forester stopped, saying in his simple, straightforward +way:</p> + +<p>“Your incivility surprises me, sir. It is true I +have habitated with the wild creatur’s o’ the forest, +but in all my perambulating I ne’er met wolf with +less o’ humanity, nor bear with more o’ brute than +you exhibit in chiding the child o’ thy only son. It +may be I’m unsuited to mingle in the genteel ways +o’ civilisation, but I’ve l’arned what you have not, +that the finest natur’ has the most sensitive heart. +I may have forgotten the leetle book l’arning I got, +but I have picked up a leetle o’ the wisdom that +wells from the springs o’ natur’. An’ while man’s +l’arning is e’er open to error, natur’ is ne’er at +fault.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span></p> + +<p>The Highlander showed that he felt the merited +rebuke, and his next words were milder:</p> + +<p>“If I ought to cane ye for yer insolence I’ll overlook +ye. If ye care to speak to the strange man, +lassie, who is a saint or a deil, ye may.”</p> + +<p>“I do want to speak to him, grandfather. I love +him as if he was my own father.”</p> + +<p>At the utterance of this simple speech, which was +but the honest conviction of an unsophisticated +heart, she ran swiftly to his side, and to the amazement +of the old Highlander he clasped her in his +arms. While he stood there trembling between +suppressed excitement and wonder he seemed to +have suddenly become possessed of a new idea, for +he asked with great earnestness:</p> + +<p>“Ye’re a Scotchman! Did ye ken my son +Alick?”</p> + +<p>“I may have met him, sir!” was the surprising +reply.</p> + +<p>“May have met him, man?” fairly shrieked the +other. “Can ye say that and be so quiet? My +Alick was a bonnie boy, the noblest o’ the MacDonalds.”</p> + +<p>“Which may be a poor meed o’ praise, sir. But +I do not wish to pain a father’s heart. Nothing +that I can say will mend the broken dish. There, +child, I must be gone.”</p> + +<p>The latter sentence was addressed to Rilma, and, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>kissing her, he tenderly disengaged her hands, and +before she or her grandfather could speak had disappeared +around a turn in the road below the house.</p> + +<p>“Run after him, lassie!” cried the Highlander. +“Tell him to cum back. I fain wud ask him mair +o’ Alick.”</p> + +<p>Nothing loath she obeyed, but when she reached +the place where he had last been seen, the Woodranger +was not in sight. Disappointed she returned +to the house.</p> + +<p>“I dinna read him!” muttered the old man. +“An’ ye say there was tears in his e’en as he let ye +go, lassie? A strange man surely.” Then, after a +pause, he added: “He maun be a MacDonald!”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"> + CHAPTER XXXII. + <br> + <small>ZACK BITLOCK’S DEER.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>Norman was returning from Mr. Stark’s at the +close of the day, when, as he was passing the path +leading from the road to the ruins of Christo’s wigwam, +he fancied he heard some one speak. At a +loss to know the meaning of the sound, he approached +the little clearing about the Pennacook’s +home. As he drew nearer the cries became plainer, +though not more intelligible, and he discovered the +dark figure of Christo, the homeless warrior, standing +at the edge of the forest.</p> + +<p>Half-concealed by the deep shadows falling about +him, the Pennacook was looking intently at the little +pile of ashes which marked his ruined home, and <a href="#i_fp278">his +right arm moved slowly to and fro</a>, while he continued +his low, intense speech, which Norman could +not fail to know was expressive of the deepest feeling, +though he could not understand a word.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="i_fp278"> + <img src="images/i_fp278.jpg" alt="" title=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="noic"><a href="#Page_278">“HIS RIGHT ARM MOVED SLOWLY TO AND FRO.”</a></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>“I wish Woodranger was here,” thought our hero +as he stood a silent spectator of the dramatic scene. +“I dare not break in upon him.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span></p> + +<p>These thoughts had barely shaped themselves in +his mind, when the Indian, with a wider and fiercer +sweep of his arm, suddenly turned away, and pulling +his blanket closer about his tall form, disappeared in +the forest, and never again was he seen in the vicinity +of Namaske.</p> + +<p>Norman resumed his homeward journey with a +heavy heart.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry for him. I wish it had not happened. +If Woodranger had only been here he might have +pacified him.”</p> + +<p>Upon reaching his home, he found his grandfather +still labouring under great excitement over the conversation +he had had with the Woodranger.</p> + +<p>“He’s a strange man, laddie. I dinna read him.”</p> + +<p>“What did he say, grandfather?” asked Norman, +who was both surprised and interested to know what +the forester had said to so excite his grandfather.</p> + +<p>“Say, lad? He said much. Why, he said to my +teeth—an’ me a MacDonald!—he said twa times, +in as many words, that I was but a puir, misguided +fule! Min’ ye, he said that, an’ I ne’er raised a +finger. I was—I was dumb! No ane e’er lived to +say that afore. Say, lad, d’ye think I’m gaun awa’ +wi’ my min’? He said that I was auld afore my +time; that my stalwart frame was in its prime. +Weel, it may be he was not sae far frae the truth, +aifter a’. Is my form so bent, lad?” and the old +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>Highlander drew himself up, until he stood as +straight as a post, six feet and three inches of +stalwart manhood.</p> + +<p>“You were never more erect, grandfather, and you +really are not so very old.”</p> + +<p>“Sixty-eight, laddie. Cum tae think o’t, I’m nae +sae dreadfu’ auld. The MacDonalds hae always +been lang-lived. But that strange man compared +us as faither an’ son. Can he be sae young?”</p> + +<p>“Woodranger once said he was forty-four. People +have got into a peculiar habit of calling him old, +when—”</p> + +<p>“Just the age o’ ma Alick, the bonniest laddie in +a’ Scotland!” exclaimed Mr. MacDonald, his excitement +returning. “Gang an’ find that Woodranger, +laddie, as soon as may be. I want to hear him ca’ +me a <em>fule</em> again, and see if I will stand idle by.”</p> + +<p>The Woodranger, however, very much to their +disappointment, was not seen again in that vicinity +for some time. Mr. MacDonald continued to speak +of him almost every day, and declare that he would +find him.</p> + +<p>About that time Mr. Stark was troubled by the +depredations of a deer in his corn shed, which he +had built on to the end of his barn. The creature +had come two or three times, and, having got a taste +of the grain, was pretty sure to come again. With +so many boy hunters in the family, of course he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>had only to mention the fact to them, to be rid of +the troublesome visitor. But he happened to do so +in the presence of Zack Bitlock, who at once said:</p> + +<p>“Let me look arter the creatur’, ’squire. I’m in +want o’ some meat. ’Sides, th’ boys will fill th’ poor +creatur’ full o’ lead, an’ as like as not let it git away.”</p> + +<p>Anticipating that there might be fun in store for +them by yielding to Goodman Bitlock, the boys did +so with good grace. This would not hinder them +from being on hand to witness the squatter’s work, +and also to get the deer if it escaped the other, as +they expected it would.</p> + +<p>Goodman Bitlock’s gun was a poor affair, as we +already know, and he was an indifferent marksman. +But these facts did not enter into his plans. He +first borrowed the long deer thong which had served +little Archie Stark to such good purpose in hanging +the bear. Subsequent events, by the way, would +seem to indicate that that affair suggested to him his +plan. He made a running noose in one end of the +line and adjusted it to such a nicety that the unsuspecting +deer would thrust its head through when it +reached into the crib for its morning meal. The +other end he carried back into the loft among the +corn shucks, and his simple arrangements were +complete.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening Goodman Bitlock crawled +up into the midst of the corn shucks to wait and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>watch for his victim. Not to be caught unawares, +he got a firm hold on the end of the line and then +began his lonely vigil.</p> + +<p>It is quite likely he fell asleep, for the deer did +not appear on the scene to act its part until the day +was breaking, when the boys, Billy, Johnny, and +Archie, who were concealed in the cattle shed, saw +a fine looking buck approach the place and thrust its +head and antlers through the noose, and begin to +eat ravenously of the succulent corn. But its movements +had partly dislodged the line, and feeling it +drawing upon its neck, the buck sprang backward +with its first show of fright.</p> + +<p>The violent movement of the buck brought a wild +cry from the loft, giving it genuine alarm. The +terrified deer tried to break away, and started toward +the forest with mighty bounds. This quickly +brought through the opening the doubled-up figure +of Zack Bitlock.</p> + +<p>Somehow the squatter had got tangled up in the +line, and now he found it impossible to get clear. +He gave utterance to half smothered cries, as he +was rudely jerked along at the heels of the terrified +deer.</p> + +<p>“Help—save me!” he cried. “I’m a goner!”</p> + +<p>The boys quickly left their place of concealment, +to save the unfortunate man, whose situation was as +perilous as it was ridiculous.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span></p> + +<p>Billy and Johnny had their guns with them, but, +owing to the peculiar situation of Goodman Bitlock, +a shot would endanger his life. So, while they followed +at the top of their speed, the buck fled much +faster toward the woods. Whatever was done to +save the victim must be done quickly.</p> + +<p>“He’ll kill Zack!” cried Archie, who was finding +it impossible to keep up with his brothers. It certainly +looked as if poor Goodman Bitlock was on his +last deer hunt.</p> + +<p>But an unforeseen accident suddenly changed the +situation. The frightened deer, finding its flight at +last stopped by the top of a fallen pine, instead of +going around it made a bound into the air, to leap +the obstruction. It cleared even the topmost +branches, but it had not counted on the burden +it was dragging away. The consequence was, +Goodman Bitlock was jerked up under the mass +of branches, and there he stuck. The deer, on +the other side, managed to get his feet to the +ground, but beyond that he could not go.</p> + +<p>By the time the boys reached the scene, Bitlock +had recovered sufficient to begin a series of cries that +was heart-rending:</p> + +<p>“Save me! I’m hung dead! I’m a goner!”</p> + +<p>“Have you got the deer, Goodman Bitlock?” +asked Johnny, who, finding there was no cause for +further alarm, enjoyed the situation. This was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>especially the more gratifying, as the squatter had +boasted loudly of his scheme for catching the creature. +His reply was filled with despair:</p> + +<p>“Got th’ Ol’ Harry! I wish I hadn’t. Shoot +him, quick!”</p> + +<p>“But that would fill him full of lead!” replied +Johnny, with provoking coolness. “Say, Zack, that +is a pretty certain way of—”</p> + +<p>“Kill him, Johnny! He’s sawin’ me right in +two! Oh—oh—oh! Cut th’ rope if ye can’t +shoot him.”</p> + +<p>The boys did not delay longer, but advanced into +the thicket so as to get a shot at the struggling buck. +Before they could get into position to fire, the buck +suddenly bounded off into the woods with redoubled +speed. Goodman Bitlock had managed to get a knife +out of his pocket and cut the thong.</p> + +<p>Though they had lost the deer, the boys felt they +had got as much sport out of the affair as they had +expected.</p> + +<p>“Gol-dang me!” exclaimed the discomfited squatter, +as he scrambled to his feet, looking exceedingly +battered and bruised but not seriously hurt, “when +I git over this, boys, I want ye to larrup me with a +hickory sprout till ye git tired. Say, ef ye won’t say +ennything erbout my foolishness I’ll make ye th’ +handsomest pair o’ snow-shoes ye ever put on yer +feet, I will, honest.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span></p> + +<p>So the matter was dropped by the boys, except +among themselves; but the victim must have told +some one himself, for the story leaked out, and for +a long time Bitlock’s deer was a standing joke in Old +Harrytown.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"> + CHAPTER XXXIII. + <br> + <small>RAISING THE MEETING-HOUSE.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>At this time, the all-absorbing topic of conversation +in Tyng Township was the raising of the new meeting-house, +which had been long deferred on account +of the failure to build a mill to saw the necessary +lumber. In this important event, however, the Scotch-Irish +showed little interest. It is true they had no +meeting-house, as the place of worship was invariably +called at that period, but they were able to +attend divine services in the town across the river, +and thus did not miss the building as much as their +rivals. The Tyng colonists had held occasional meetings +at private houses, but it was not altogether +convenient or satisfactory. Then, too, there was a +provision in their grant calling for a house of worship, +and until it was built they could not conscientiously +reply to the attacks of the others, who were +not above ridicule. So the raising of the meeting-house +became the one theme of conversation.</p> + +<p>All through the summer it had been planned to +have the new house ready for dedication at Thanksgiving; +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span>but the season had been so unfavourable for +out-of-door work, taken with other delays and difficulties, +that this had finally been given up. This became +the more necessary, as Thanksgiving came +early that year, the thirteenth of November having +been appointed.</p> + +<p>But raising day came at last, fair but cold. Early +in the morning the men began to gather from far +and near. Raisings in those times were important +events, and men, and even women, often came long +distances to be present and to lend such assistance +as they could, either in helping raise the big timbers +or in assisting to prepare the supper for the crowd +of hungry workmen. If the raising of an ordinary +house would draw such a crowd, how many more +must come to the raising of a meeting-house. Men +were at this raising under the Three Pines of Tyng +Township from Chelmsford, twenty-five miles distant, +from Old Dunstable, the home of the late Captain +Tyng, from Nottingham, Naticook, Londonderry, +Chester, and other towns. One singular thing was +noticed and commented upon. Among the big crowd +the most casual observer did not fail to notice the +absence of the Scotch-Irish. It is true Mr. Archibald +Stark was there, as he had said he should be, +and also a few others, but not a “baker’s dozen,” as +some one remarked.</p> + +<p>But this did not trouble Mr. Anderson, the master +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span>builder, as long as he saw in the eighty or more men +collected enough strength to lift the stout frame +lying there ready to be put into proper position.</p> + +<p>Raisings meant something different in those days +from what they do now, when a building is “put up” +by piecemeal. A whole side was stoutly joined +together on the ground, and then raised bodily by +sheer strength. Poles, with iron spikes in the end, +were used to facilitate the lifting, when the form had +been raised as high as one could easily reach. Then, +at the loud command of the boss, “Up, up, up!” went +the heavy timbers, nothing like the cobwebs we put +into buildings to-day, until the tenons would slip +into the mortises with a sharp report, and the whole +would stand as firm “as the rock-ribbed hills!”</p> + +<p>Tyng meeting-house being a large building for +those days, its timbers were uncommonly big, and +being poorly seasoned, were extremely heavy; but +“many hands make light work,” and one side after +another went up, amid loud cheering and not a little +drinking.</p> + +<p>Three sides had thus been brought into position, +and the men seized with a hearty will on the skeleton +of the remaining wall.</p> + +<p>“Now, boys! all together,” cried Mr. Anderson; +“heave-o!”</p> + +<p>Two men, who were not able to lift as well as +some of the rest, had each been stationed at the foot +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span>of the corner posts, so as to keep them from slipping, +and so far there had been no accident. But this +time, either one of the men had not planted himself +with the necessary firmness, or else the men had +been more careless than common in lifting the ponderous +form, for one of the posts began to slip on +the frozen ground.</p> + +<p>“Hold firm, there, Robbins!” yelled Mr. Anderson. +“Up with her, boys! Heave-o! heave-o!”</p> + +<p>Slowly rose the mighty frame, notwithstanding +that it was still slipping in spite of the frantic +efforts of the man at the base. It had risen so far +that in another moment it would be secure on its +own footing, when the man called Robbins lost his +presence of mind. Instead of bracing himself more +firmly and holding on, he loosened his clutch and +retreated.</p> + +<p>The action imperilled the life of every man under +the timbers. Should the lifters drop the frame, a +few might escape as it fell, but many would certainly +be crushed under the falling broadside. Each man, +knowing this, held upon the massive frame with all +the strength he could muster, so that for a moment +the whole form was held balanced almost free +from the ground. It was a terrible moment. Even +the noisy Mr. Anderson was silent.</p> + +<p>Sometimes one young in experience will do what +an older person would fail to accomplish successfully. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span>It is certain no man there could have reached the +foot of that sliding post as quickly as did Norman +McNiel. His position had been favourable for the +action, but what was of more vital importance, while +others held their breath with terror, he had presence +of mind equal to the emergency. That post +had got to be held firm, or all would be lost!</p> + +<p>Near the foot of the timber was a stout hornbeam +lever, which some one had thrown down a moment +before. Seizing this, and throwing enough of his +weight upon the lifting timber to keep it down, he +planted one end of the stout stick against the stonework, +and brought the lever over the foot of the +post, so as to hold it where it was. Assured that +he could keep it from slipping further, he shouted to +the overtaxed workmen:</p> + +<p>“Now, all together, up with it! I can hold the +foot.”</p> + +<p>His words gave hope to the nearly exhausted +men, who, with an almost superhuman effort, tugged +anew at the heavy woodwork, which began to rise +again.</p> + +<p>“Heave-o, boys! Up she goes!” cried Mr. Anderson, +exultantly.</p> + +<p>The next moment tenon and mortise met, a loud +report followed, and the huge broadside stood erect +and firm.</p> + +<p>While Mr. Anderson and a few others flew to drive +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span>in the pins to make sure of their work, most of the +men sank upon the ground to rest. There was general +rejoicing, and one more enthusiastic than the +rest proposed three cheers for Tyngtown’s new +meeting-house.</p> + +<p>“And three more for Norman McNiel,” said Mr. +Anderson, “who made it possible. If it hadn’t been +for him, there would have been no cheering, I can +tell you.”</p> + +<p>Every one felt the truth of this, and one after +another grasped Norman’s hand, with generous +thanksgiving on their lips.</p> + +<p>Thus Tyng Township meeting-house was raised, +and the colonists went to their respective homes +with lighter hearts than they had known since +accepting the responsibilities of their grant. Norman +went home with Mr. Stark, who praised him +heartily for his brave conduct.</p> + +<p>“Mark my words, lad, you have made more friends +to-day than you had before. When a man’s life is +in actual danger, he is apt to appreciate the effort +made in his behalf. I minded that Gunwad was not +there. He has lost ground. That burning of Christo’s +cabin has set every one against him. It was a +miserable act, wholly uncalled for. Well, I am glad +their meeting-house is at last on its feet. They +cannot get it finished before another summer.”</p> + +<p>If the Tyng colonists could not have their meeting-house +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span>to hold services in on Thanksgiving day, +they could at least observe the occasion with their +accustomed ardour, and a shooting-match, intended +to eclipse anything of the kind, was arranged to +take place at that time. It was expected that +marksmen would come from far and near to participate +in the trial at arms. After persistent coaxing, +the Woodranger had been finally obtained to act +as manager of the ceremonies, but on the thirteenth +a snow-storm set in. Every one was glad to hover +over the wide-mouthed fireplace for such warmth +and comfort as it afforded. It was the gloomiest +Thanksgiving ever known in Tyng Township, and +its storm, to some, foreboded the end.</p> + +<p>The Woodranger was stopping at Captain Goffe’s, +but as soon as he had seen that the shooting-match +would not take place, he showed his uneasiness at +the enforced idleness.</p> + +<p>“What! never at rest?” asked Mr. Goffe, senior. +“Don’t you ever get tired, old man?”</p> + +<p>“I should dissemble the great truth o’ natur’ if I +said I did not, sir. Ask the old man if he is never +tired who sits in the chimney-corner and sucks his +thumbs, cap’n. I may have my weakness, but man +on the move is seldom tired. He gets oneasy, it +is true, but motion is life, inactivity death. Man +might as well be a stump, fit only to be put up in +the clearing to stop deer from trespassing, as to sit +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>idly down. I think I’ll perambulate over toward ol’ +Pawtuckaway, and mebbe I shall hark a deer or a +moose.”</p> + +<p>The snow fell so rapidly that before midnight a +foot and a half lay on the ground. Winter, it might +be said, had fairly set in.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"> + CHAPTER XXXIV. + <br> + <small>THE FRESHET.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>The big snow-storm, which ushered in Thanksgiving +day, lasted until the fifteenth, when the +weather cleared away biting cold. Then, on the +twenty-second, the cold abated, and a thaw set in, +with peculiar characteristics which have marked it +in history as a season not to be forgotten. It began +to rain November twenty-fourth, and for twenty days +successively it kept unceasingly at it, but every +evening the stars would appear as bright as ever, +and continue to shine until past midnight. At daybreak +the rain would again commence to fall as +furiously as ever.</p> + +<p>With the ground frozen and a big body of snow, +this warm rain brought such a freshet as the oldest +settler had never seen. The ice in the Merrimack +broke up and the swollen stream carried huge cakes +on its turgid current, to the danger of lives and property.⁠<a id="FNanchor_3_3" href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p class="noi"><a id="Footnote_3_3" href="#FNanchor_3_3" class="label">[3]</a> The snow melted and a freshet occurred in the Merrimack River, +nothing like it having been experienced there for seventy years. At +Haverhill, the stream rose fifteen feet, and many houses were floated +off.—<cite>Perley’s Historic Storms of New England.</cite></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span></p> + +<p>At Cohas general alarm reigned, but at Namaske +only one dwelling was threatened, and that was the +home of Robert MacDonald, which unfortunately +stood so low and near the bank of the stream that +the water came almost to the door. Still the occupants, +finding at last that it was rising no higher, +hoped and believed that it would subside before +doing them harm.</p> + +<p>Archibald Stark called one afternoon to see if +there had been any change since the previous day +and very confidently told them he believed the worst +over.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, the inmates retired that evening +without dreaming of further danger. But Norman +had not fallen asleep, when a terrific roar and rumbling, +such as he had never heard in his life before, +awoke the night.</p> + +<p>Springing off his couch, he had barely begun to +dress himself before another crash was heard, and +then a sound like the thunder of Namaske, increased +tenfold in volume.</p> + +<p>A loud rap at the door quickly followed, and a +stentorian voice called out:</p> + +<p>“Quick! your lives are in peril!”</p> + +<p>It was the Woodranger, and he showed his impatience +by renewed thumping against the log wall of +the cabin.</p> + +<p>The next moment Norman was down on the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>lower floor, and found Mr. MacDonald already +dressed, while Rilma appeared the following minute.</p> + +<p>Norman had already opened the door, and the +Woodranger came in as Rilma appeared.</p> + +<p>“The river has broken over its bank!” exclaimed +the forester. “The ice dammed the stream and—hark!—we +must get out o’ this amazement if we +value our lives. Lassie, let me carry you. Lad, +follow with your grandfather. Let there be no +delay.”</p> + +<p>While speaking he caught the trembling Rilma in +his strong arms, and strode out of the door. Clasping +his precious burden close to his breast, the +Woodranger swiftly passed the little valley lying +between the doomed dwelling and the higher land.</p> + +<p>Norman would have kept beside him, but his +grandfather, in his excitement, stumbled and nearly +fell, just as the rushing water seemed upon +them!</p> + +<p>“Hurry, grandfather!” cried Norman, helping +him to his feet. “The river is making a channel +around our home!”</p> + +<p>“The horn!” exclaimed the dazed Highlander. +“I maun hae the auld—”</p> + +<p>Without stopping to hear more, Norman bounded +into the house, seized the horn, and an instant later +was back beside his aged companion.</p> + +<p>But that moment lost was fatal to his hopes. So +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>swiftly had the river risen and swept down on its +new course, that the wall of water was in plain +sight as Norman regained the side of his grandfather.</p> + +<p>Seizing him by the hand, and half dragging him +along, he sped in the direction the Woodranger had +taken.</p> + +<p>But Mr. MacDonald seemed bewildered, and he +did not move with the necessary haste. Midway +across the narrow valley Norman saw that it was +hopeless to think of escaping, though he pulled +harder than ever upon his aged companion in the +endeavour to get him beyond the reach of the rushing +stream. Alone he might have escaped.</p> + +<p>The Woodranger, who had borne Rilma to a +place of safety, gently put her down and sprang +back to lend his assistance to the others. Seeing +their peril, he would have rushed in to save them at +the risk of his own life, but he was too late.</p> + +<p>Sweeping everything in its pathway, the watery +column reached the hapless pair. Fortunately for +Mr. MacDonald, the current struck him in such a +way that he was tossed toward the high ground, and +dropped almost at the feet of the Woodranger, who +quickly caught hold of him and dragged him away +from the surging flood. Then he turned to look for +Norman.</p> + +<p>At that moment Mr. Stark, his boys, and half +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span>a dozen others appeared on the scene, having come +to warn his friends of the peril threatening their +home.</p> + +<p>Norman was caught by the swirling waters and +borne away at a fearful speed. He tried to save +himself, but a cake of ice struck him on the head, +and that was the last he knew until he lay in the +arms of the Woodranger and the words of Mr. Stark +came into his ears:</p> + +<p>“Mark how he loves the boy.”</p> + +<p>Opening his eyes, our hero looked around in a +bewildered way, a wild, strange roar of rushing water +ringing in his ears. He saw about him a little knot +of anxious watchers, the nearest of them the forester, +upon his knees, bending over him.</p> + +<p>“Father, I thank thee, thou hast seen it well to +spare him. Lad, speak, and tell me that my ol’ eyes +do not deceive me. Thy life has been spared.”</p> + +<p>“I think I must be living, Woodranger,” replied +Norman, “but it does seem queer. Perhaps my +mind is not clear yet. Where are Rilma and grandfather?”</p> + +<p>“Safe, lad. At least the lassie is safe and well +cared for. Your grandfather did get a serious amazement. +It may have been a chunk o’ ice struck him, +but he has been taken with the lassie to the home o’ +Mr. Stark.”</p> + +<p>“Where the boy must be taken without further +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span>delay,” said that kind-hearted man. “Let me help +you lift him on my sled, Woodranger.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Stark was the owner of a big hand-sled, which +had been covered with warm fur robes. Norman +was placed upon the sled, and willing hands drew +him to the hospitable home, where the party was +met by Mrs. Stark.</p> + +<p>He was then put on a comfortable bed, a warming-pan +placed at his feet, some herbs put as hot as he +could bear to his head, and that was the last he +knew until morning.</p> + +<p>Norman awoke feeling very much improved, and +under the motherly care of Mrs. Stark he soon declared +that he wanted to sit up. But that she would +not allow.</p> + +<p>“I promised Woodranger he should be called as +soon as you awoke. He seems as uneasy as a fish +out of water. Here he comes now.”</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"> + CHAPTER XXXV. + <br> + <small>THE WOODRANGER’S SECRET.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>As kind Mrs. Stark spoke, the Woodranger +entered the apartment in his swift, noiseless way, +to pause just inside the skin door.</p> + +<p>“Forgive me—”</p> + +<p>“Come right this way, Woodranger,” said Norman, +holding out a hand. “I want to see you, and talk +with you.”</p> + +<p>“So you shall, lad, so you shall. These ol’ eyes +ne’er looked on a more gladsome sight than to see +you alive at this hour, and so well. But ere I get +my ol’ tongue to babbling like a runaway brook, +there is the leetle lassie, who is pining to come to +you. Come, lassie!”</p> + +<p>Then, to Norman’s joy, Rilma came swiftly to his +side, and they were locked in each other’s arms.</p> + +<p>“I cried for you, brother, as I saw that awful +flood rush over you. I never expected to see you +again alive. And I never should if brave Woodranger +had not plunged into the roaring water and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_301">[301]</span>saved you. Norman, we all owe our lives to him. +He is the bravest, noblest man in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Amen, dear sister; he is all of that. Come +here, dear Woodranger, and let me thank you.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, lad, I cannot dissemble; it would be a +blameful indiscretion. While you chat with the +lassie I will go out and ketch a whiff o’ fresh air. +That fire do burn up amazing stout,” and before any +of them could interpose he had left the house.</p> + +<p>“The strangest man I ever saw, as well as the +best,” said Mrs. Stark. “And he seems queerer +than ever to-day. Why, as early as it is, he has +been to Goffe’s and back this morning. I can’t +imagine what he is doing. Acts as if he was looking +for some one. But, excuse me, and I will take +myself out of the way, so you can talk.”</p> + +<p>“No—no, mother Stark; we don’t want you to +go. But you have not told me of grandfather, +Rilma.”</p> + +<p>“He is better than you, I think, Norman, though +he is more nervous and excited than ever. Woodranger +wouldn’t let me stay a great while with him. +He wants no one but Woodranger, not even Mr. +Stark.”</p> + +<p>“I must go in and see him by and by. But the +old home. Was the house carried off by the river?”</p> + +<p>“Archie tells me it was not injured,” replied Mrs. +Stark, “though the water completely surrounded it, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_302">[302]</span>and had it risen another foot must have undermined +it. The river is falling away fast, and we do not +think there is any further danger. Here comes +Woodranger back.”</p> + +<p>“Come in, Woodranger,” called out Norman. +“Don’t run off like that again.”</p> + +<p>“Mebbe I won’t, lad, mebbe I won’t again. We +have much to be thankful for, lad. I think the river +is dropping away. I thought perhaps I could cross +this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“You are not going away, Woodranger? We +shall not let you.”</p> + +<p>“Here is the horn, lad,” said the Woodranger, +abruptly, handing Norman the MacDonald bugle +which had come so near costing him his life. “I +found it tight gripped in your hand. For a wonder, +your grandfather has not inquired after it.”</p> + +<p>Norman took the bugle with an expression of +thanks, saying he would give it to his grandfather +as soon as he could. Then, seeing that the Woodranger +appeared about to be leaving again, he said:</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you going to stay with me, Woodranger? +You cannot be going away?”</p> + +<p>“Not fur, lad. I cannot dissemble, but I s’pose I +oughter go down to Goffe’s. Mebbe when you get +a leetle stronger, I shall have something to say to +you.”</p> + +<p>“Say it now, Woodranger. I shall—”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_303">[303]</span></p> + +<p>“I durst not, lad, I durst not. Wait a leetle,” +and with these words he went out of the house, and +a few minutes later disappeared down the road.</p> + +<p>“I never saw him so uneasy,” said Mrs. Stark.</p> + +<p>Though Norman had not received any injuries +which were likely to be permanent, he soon found +that it would be several days before he should be +able to leave the house. But the week that followed +was not unpleasant to him. Rilma was with him, +the Stark boys came into his room at their will, and +twice Rob Rogers visited him. Of course he saw +considerable of the Woodranger, but not as much as +he wished.</p> + +<p>The day before Christmas, in the afternoon, he +was allowed to see his grandfather, whom he had not +seen since that night’s adventure. The Woodranger +and Rilma were with them. He was surprised to +find him looking so wan and feeble. But the old +Highlander grasped his hand with something of his +usual vigour.</p> + +<p>“It does ma auld een guid tae gaze on thee again. +Ye’ll soon be hame again.”</p> + +<p>“And we shall be so glad, grandfather.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, lad, I shall ne’er return tae the auld hame. +I hae had a presentiment that my day be almos’ +ower.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that, MacDonald?” asked the Woodranger. +“Are you getting childish again? I never +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_304">[304]</span>knew a MacDonald to die o’ sich a leetle clip as that +which you say is going to kill you. You are no +true—”</p> + +<p>“Zounds, sirrah!” cried the other, suddenly starting +up. “I’m no’ deed yet! Get me my cane, +Norman, an’ let me whack him at my will. Ye’ may +ca’ me a fule, but ye ne’er shall say I’m ne’er a true +MacDonald. My faither, sirrah, was the Chiel o’ +Glencoe!”</p> + +<p>“So much the worse for you, MacDonald. But +I’m not here to stir an amazement. It should be a +day o’ peace. Quiet your heart, MacDonald. I +have enough to still my own. I’m sore perplexed +to say what lies next my heart. The trail o’ the +red man is easy to follow, and the tracks o’ the +bear are picked up like beech-nuts arter a frost. +But the whims o’ the heart are spun finer than +spider threads. I cannot see these to pick ’em +up!”</p> + +<p>Never had the others seen the Woodranger so +excited, and they were almost startled at his +appearance.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Woodranger?” asked Norman. +“Has the old house gone, after all? We can soon +build another, and better one.”</p> + +<p>“It is o’ Alick, my bonnie boy, he wishes to speak. +Ye’re tae tell me mair o’ Alick,” declared Mr. +MacDonald.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_305">[305]</span></p> + +<p>“Nay, nay! I cannot dissemble longer. Lad, +<em>your father is coming home</em>!”</p> + +<p>No five words that he could have spoken would +have caused greater surprise. In fact, the little +group gazed on him in speechless wonder. Norman +was the first to break the silence:</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Woodranger?”</p> + +<p>“Just what I said, lad. Your father is living—is +even now on his way here. He should have been +here a week ago. I am sure he is now at Goffe’s.” +Norman was unable to make any reply, while such +thoughts as he had never known filled his mind. +His first and most natural one was the inquiry +made of himself: “Is Woodranger mad? He has +acted strangely for a week, is it improbable that he +has at last lost his reason?” Then he continued, +in a different train: “Can it be possible father is +alive and coming to me?” Trembling from head to +foot, he caught the forester by the arm, saying:</p> + +<p>“As you love me, Woodranger, tell me truly what +you mean. Is father living, after all? Is he coming +here?”</p> + +<p>“I ne’er dissemble, lad. I—”</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, Woodranger; I did not mean to +doubt you. I don’t know what I did mean. But +you can explain. Please do.”</p> + +<p>“It is I who should crave forgiveness, lad, for the +deception I have acted. But it was my foolish way +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_306">[306]</span>to get round the truth. I have known that Archie +McNiel lived, and I have known the truth o’ his life +these years, but I did not know you were living here +until last summer. Then I sent at once to Archie +to come with all speed possible, but, to make your +surprise complete, I said nothing to you. I hope +you will all forgive me. I haven’t prevaricated the +great truth, because no one has questioned me. +I—”</p> + +<p>“Hold, man!” cried Mr. MacDonald, breaking +into his speech, “d’ye dare tell me that graceless +McNiel—the murderer—”</p> + +<p>“Stop, MacDonald!” said the Woodranger, “this +is no time for your silliness. Archie McNiel comes +with a name as pure as thine. Ah, far more so, for +the MacDonalds, with all their boasts o’ warlike deeds, +can show leetle else. You have told me in your +confidential moments, which I am free to confess is +taking a man in his weakness, that you would receive +your Alick if he came under the shadow of the +gallows. He would have to come in that way if he +came. Archie McNiel comes with a heart as pure +and spotless as this wee lassie. Here is the proof o’ +what I say, which I have carried long to give you.”</p> + +<p>As the Woodranger ceased speaking, he drew from +under his hunting-frock a parcel, carefully wrapped +in deer skin. As he handed this to Mr. MacDonald, +he said:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_307">[307]</span></p> + +<p>“I’m going once more to meet him. He’ll come +to-night, I’m sure. Meanwhile, watch and wait. I +admonish thee, MacDonald, to receive him with open +arms. It is the last written request o’ thy son.”</p> + +<p>“Some one will go with you, Woodranger,” said +Norman. “I am sure Mr. Stark will be willing to +do so.”</p> + +<p>“Nay, lad, I must go alone. He will not be overlong +in coming. If I fail to come back with him, +yet I will see you all sometime.”</p> + +<p>He had reached the door. Then, as if prompted +by a sudden impulse, he retraced his steps, and +swiftly kissed the three, Mr. MacDonald first, then +Norman, and last Rilma, whom he held closely in his +arms for a long minute. Putting her down then, he +noiselessly left the room before one of the three +could call him back.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_308">[308]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"> + CHAPTER XXXVI. + <br> + <small>THE TURNING OF THE TIDE.</small> + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>It would indeed be difficult to describe the conflicting +emotions felt by the little group, as the +Woodranger went out of the house. Each felt that +the strange man had departed with no intention of +returning—at least for a considerable time. Mr. +MacDonald was the only one to speak, and he +ordered, in his own peculiar way, that some one be +sent after him. In the excitement the paper was +forgotten. It was not long before Mr. Stark and +his good wife entered the apartment, and they were +equally surprised over what had been said and done.</p> + +<p>In the midst of their questions, steps were heard +without the dwelling. Then, as Mr. Stark opened +the door, a stranger advanced to enter.</p> + +<p>“I am Archie McNiel,” he said, “and I have been +told that I—I should find my long-lost son Norman +here.”</p> + +<p>“Come in,” said Mr. Stark, simply, stepping aside +as the other obeyed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_309">[309]</span></p> + +<p>Norman could remain silent no longer, and springing +forward, he cried, as the newcomer caught him +in his outspread arms:</p> + +<p>“Father!”</p> + +<p>“My son—found at last!”</p> + +<p>During this affecting meeting the others in the +room turned aside to conceal their emotion, Mr. +MacDonald alone watching the reunited twain +closely, while he showed that he was making a great +effort to remain calm.</p> + +<p>“I cannot realise this is indeed you, father,” said +Norman, finally.</p> + +<p>“Nor I, that at last I hold you in my arms, my +son. I had long since given you up as dead. About +two months ago I got word from one who signed +himself as ‘The Woodranger,’ to come at once—that +you and father were living here. I came with +all possible haste. Father,” turning to the old +Highlander, “have you no welcome for me?”</p> + +<p>“I dinna ken. Ye’re—” and then he stopped.</p> + +<p>“Woodranger has told you all?”</p> + +<p>“He has telt me naething. Whaur is the man?”</p> + +<p>“He would not come back with me. I could not +persuade him, as much as I wanted to. His countenance +seemed very familiar to me.”</p> + +<p>“I dinna read him.”</p> + +<p>“He gave you a paper which explains all? I +know my name has been under a cloud, but I have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_310">[310]</span>been innocent of all imputed to me. Read the paper, +sir, if you would know the truth.”</p> + +<p>With trembling hand, Mr. MacDonald unrolled the +manuscript, worn and soiled, and began to read. He +had not progressed far, before he found that it was +a confession showing that Alick MacDonald, and not +Archie McNiel, was the guilty party, and that he +had so skilfully covered his course as to escape +detection. When he had read so far, he stopped, +and, crumpling the paper in his hand, exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“I will not believe it!” and threw the paper into +the fire. The flames caught quickly upon it, and +filling the wide-mouthed fireplace with its fiery waves +for a moment, the blaze died down, showing only a +charred cobweb of its remains.</p> + +<p>“It is better so,” said Archie McNiel. “There is +nothing between us now, Robert MacDonald. If I +have caused you a pang, I ask to be forgiven. Let +the past be forgotten, and let us, on this Christmas +eve, clasp hands across the void of years.”</p> + +<p>“Amen,” said Archie Stark. “Peace on earth, +good-will toward men.”</p> + +<p>“If that strange man had only stayed,” declared +Mr. MacDonald, as he allowed the arms of his son-in-law +to encircle his neck. The reunion was now +complete.</p> + +<p>Mr. Stark’s invitation was so urgent for them to +remain with him the next day that the reunited +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_311">[311]</span>family consented. The first settlers in America gave +little, if any, observation to Christmas, as a rule. The +English colonists ignored it altogether, believing it +infested with too much popery; but that was a day +which those gathered at Mr. Stark’s never forgot. +In many respects it was the happiest they ever +knew.</p> + +<p>The following day, Norman, his father, grandfather, +and Rilma returned to their home, which soon bore +more than its old-time cheerfulness. In fact, the +tide had turned in the affairs of Tyng Township, and +they were benefited by it.</p> + +<p>It may have been due to his loss of favour from the +burning of Christo’s cabin, or from other reasons, +but Gunwad did not offer to trouble them any more. +In fact, there was not much time for him to do so, +as the following May the boundary dispute, which +had kept the two provinces embroiled so long, was +happily settled. Perhaps not happily to all, for +many were the losers, but it was settled for all time. +By that settlement, the brave men of the “Snow-shoe +Expedition” under Captain Tyng lost their +claim to Tyng Township. The grant was now within +New Hampshire’s jurisdiction. It is true they were +given another township in the province of Maine, +but it was so far away that some of the men preferred +to buy off the Presbyterians and remain. +Some went back to their former homes, and a few +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_312">[312]</span>emigrated to the new grant, where they found less +to contend with.</p> + +<p>The meeting-house which had cost them so much +money and anxiety was soon after burned; and then +the name of the town was changed, and the last link +connecting those trying years with the new existence +was broken. War with the Indians broke out afresh, +during which no men in New England did nobler or +more effective work than those who went from what +was once derisively called Old Harrytown, and comprised +the Debatable Ground.</p> + +<p>It is scarcely necessary to detail the incidents of +Archie McNiel’s life after the unfortunate affair +which separated himself from his loved ones, and +kept him in ignorance of their fates so long. In the +light of their new-found happiness the old wounds +healed. He became one of the most respected citizens +of his adopted land. Norman became not only +that, but one of the most noted and helpful. History +has depicted, in varied language, the after-life of all +our other characters, but the historian aims at glittering +generalities rather than the many little personalities +which are the sum and substance of all +lives. I hope to tell very many of these before I am +done with the <span class="smcap">Woodranger Tales</span>.</p> + +<p class="p2 noic">THE END.</p> + + + + +<hr class="chap"> +<div class="tnote"> +<p class="noi tntitle">Transcriber’s Notes:</p> + +<p class="smfont">Obvious punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently + corrected.</p> + +<p class="smfont">Archaic, variable, and dialectal spelling has been preserved.</p> + +<p class="smfont">Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.</p> +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77515 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/77515-h/images/cover.jpg b/77515-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e535a54 --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/77515-h/images/cover_sm.jpg b/77515-h/images/cover_sm.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..be45230 --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-h/images/cover_sm.jpg diff --git a/77515-h/images/i_fp014.jpg b/77515-h/images/i_fp014.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f13a21d --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-h/images/i_fp014.jpg diff --git a/77515-h/images/i_fp144.jpg b/77515-h/images/i_fp144.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..abe1499 --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-h/images/i_fp144.jpg diff --git a/77515-h/images/i_fp278.jpg b/77515-h/images/i_fp278.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b6658d --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-h/images/i_fp278.jpg diff --git a/77515-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg b/77515-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5467898 --- /dev/null +++ b/77515-h/images/i_frontispiece.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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