Rolf In The Woods - Ernest Thompson Seton (interesting books to read for teens .TXT) 📗
- Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
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The Far End Of The Long Swamp The Stream Emerged, Now Much
Larger, And The Trappers Kept On With Their Work. When Night
Fell They Had Completed Fifty Traps, All Told, And Again They
Camped Without Shelter Overhead.
Next Day Skookum Was So Much Worse That They Began To Fear For
His Life. He Had Eaten Nothing Since The Sad Encounter. He
Could Drink A Little, So Rolf Made A Pot Of Soup, And When It Was
Cool The Poor Doggie Managed To Swallow Some Of The Liquid After
Half An Hour's Patient Endeavour.
They Were Now On The Home Line; From A Hill Top They Got A
Distant View Of Their Lake, Though It Was At Least Five Miles
Away. Down The Creek They Went, Still Making Their Deadfalls At
Likely Places And Still Seeing Game Tracks At The Muddy Spots.
The Creek Came At Length To An Extensive, Open, Hardwood Bush,
And Here It Was Joined By Another Stream That Came From The
South, The Two Making A Small River. From Then On They Seemed In
A Land Of Game; Trails Of Deer Were Seen On The Ground
Everywhere, And Every Few Minutes They Started One Or Two Deer.
The Shady Oak Wood Itself Was Flanked And Varied With Dense Cedar
Swamps Such As The Deer Love To Winter In, And After They Had
Tramped Through Two Miles Of It, The Indian Said, "Good! Now We
Know Where To Come In Winter When We Need Meat."
At A Broad, Muddy Ford They Passed An Amazing Number Of Tracks,
Mostly Deer, But A Few Of Panther, Lynx, Fisher, Wolf, Otter, And
Mink.
In The Afternoon They Reached The Lake. The Stream, Quite A
Broad One Here, Emptied In About Four Miles South Of The Camp.
Leaving A Deadfall Near Its Mouth They Followed The Shore And
Made A Log Trap Every Quarter Mile Just Above The High Water
Mark.
When They Reached The Place Of Rolf's First Deer They Turned
Aside To See It. The Gray Jays Had Picked A Good Deal Of The
Loose Meat. No Large Animal Had Troubled It, And Yet In The
Neighbourhood They Found The Tracks Of Both Wolves And Foxes;
"Ugh," Said Quonab, "They Smell It And Come Near, But They Know
That A Man Has Been Here; They Are Not Very Hungry, So Keep Away.
This Is Good For Trap."
So They Made Two Deadfalls With The Carrion Half Way Between
Them. Then One Or Two More Traps And They Reached Home, Arriving
At The Camp Just As Darkness And A Heavy Rainfall Began.
"Good," Said Quonab, "Our Deadfalls Are Ready; We Have Done All
The Work Our Fingers Could Not Do When The Weather Is Very Cold,
And The Ground Too Hard For Stakes To Be Driven. Now The Traps
Can Get Weathered Before We Go Round And Set Them. Yet We Need
Some Strong Medicine, Some Trapper Charm."
Next Morning He Went Forth With Fish-Line And Fish-Spear; He Soon
Returned With A Pickerel. He Filled A Bottle With Cut-Up Shreds
Of This, Corked It Up, And Hung It On The Warm, Sunny Side Of The
Shanty. "That Will Make A Charm That Every Bear Will Come To, "
He Said, And Left It To The Action Of The Sun.
Chapter 27 (Sick Dog Skookum)
Getting Home Is Always A Joy; But Walking About The Place In The
Morning They Noticed Several Little Things That Were Wrong.
Quonab's Lodge Was Down, The Paddles That Stood Against The
Shanty Were Scattered On The Ground, And A Bag Of Venison Hung
High At The Ridge Was Opened And Empty.
Quonab Studied The Tracks And Announced "A Bad Old Black Bear; He
Has Rollicked Round For Mischief, Upsetting Things. But The
Venison He Could Not Reach; That Was A Marten That Ripped Open
The Bag."
"Then That Tells What We Should Do; Build A Storehouse At The End
Of The Shanty, " Said Rolf, Adding, "It Must Be Tight And It Must
Be Cool."
"Maybe! Sometime Before Winter," Said The Indian; "But Now We
Should Make Another Line Of Traps While The Weather Is Fine."
"No," Replied The Lad, "Skookum Is Not Fit To Travel Now. We
Can't Leave Him Behind, And We Can Make A Storehouse In Three
Days."
The Unhappy Little Dog Was Worse Than Ever. He Could Scarcely
Breathe, Much Less Eat Or Drink, And The Case Was Settled.
First They Bathed The Invalid's Head In Water As Hot As He Could
Stand It. This Seemed To Help Him So Much That He Swallowed
Eagerly Some Soup That They Poured Into His Mouth. A Bed Was
Made For Him In A Sunny Place And The Hunters Set About The New
Building.
In Three Days The Storehouse Was Done, Excepting The Chinking.
It Was October Now, And A Sharp Night Frost Warned Them Of The
Hard White Moons To Come. Quonab, As He Broke The Ice In A Tin
Cup And Glanced At The Low-Hung Sun, Said: "The Leaves Are
Falling Fast; Snow Comes Soon; We Need Another Line Of Traps."
He Stopped Suddenly; Stared Across The Lake. Rolf Looked, And
Here Came Three Deer, Two Bucks And A Doe, Trotting, Walking, Or
Lightly Clearing Obstacles, The Doe In Advance; The Others, Rival
Followers. As They Kept Along The Shore, They Came Nearer The
Cabin. Rolf Glanced At Quonab, Who Nodded, Then Slipped In, Got
Down The Gun, And Quickly Glided Unseen To The River Where The
Deer Path Landed. The Bucks Did Not Actually Fight, For The
Season Was Not Yet On, But Their Horns Were Clean, Their Necks
Were Swelling, And They Threatened Each Other As They Trotted
After The Leader. They Made For The Ford As For Some Familiar
Path, And Splashed Through, Almost Without Swimming. As They
Landed, Rolf Waited A Clear View, Then Gave A Short Sharp "Hist!"
It Was Like A Word Of Magic, For It Turned The Three Moving Deer
To Three Stony-Still Statues. Rolf's Sights Were Turned On The
Smaller Buck, And When The Great Cloud Following The Bang Had
Deared Away, The Two Were Gone And The Lesser Buck Was Kicking On
The Ground Some Fifty Yards Away.
"We Have Found The Good Hunting; The Deer Walk Into Camp," Said
Quonab; And The Product Of The Chase Was Quickly Stored, The
First Of The Supplies To Be Hung In The New Storehouse.
The Entrails Were Piled Up And Covered With Brush And Stones.
"That Will Keep Off Ravens And Jays; Then In Winter The Foxes
Will Come And We Can Take Their Coats."
Now They Must Decide For The Morning. Skookum Was Somewhat
Better, But Still Very Sick, And Rolf Suggested: "Quonab, You
Take The Gun And Axe And Lay A New Line. I Will Stay Behind And
Finish Up The Cabin For The Winter And Look After The Dog." So
It Was Agreed. The Indian Left The Camp Alone This Time And
Crossed To The East Shore Of The Lake; There To Follow Up Another
Stream As Before And To Return In Three Or Four Days To The Cabin.
Chapter 28 (Alone In The Wilderness)
Rolf Began The Day By Giving Skookum A Bath As Hot As He Could
Stand It, And Later His Soup. For The First He Whined Feebly And
For The Second Faintly Wagged His Tail; But Clearly He Was On The
Mend.
Now The Chinking And Moss-Plugging Of The New Cabin Required All
Attention. That Took A Day And Looked Like The Biggest Job On
Hand, But Rolf Had Been Thinking Hard About The Winter. In
Connecticut The Wiser Settlers Used To Bank Their Houses For The
Cold Weather; In The Adiron- Dacks He Knew It Was Far, Far
Colder, And He Soon Decided To Bank The Two Shanties As Deeply As
Possible With Earth. A Good Spade Made Of White Oak, With Its
Edge Hardened By Roasting It Brown, Was His First Necessity, And
After Two Days Of Digging He Had The Cabin With Its Annex Buried
Up To "The Eyes" In Fresh, Clean Earth.
A Stock Of New, Dry Wood For Wet Weather Helped To Show How Much
Too Small The Cabin Was; And Now The Heavier Work Was Done, And
Rolf Had Plenty Of Time To Think.
Which Of Us That Has Been Left Alone In The Wilderness Does Not
Remember The Sensations Of The First Day! The Feeling Of
Self-Dependency, Not Unmixed With Unrestraint; The Ending Of
Civilized Thought; The Total Reversion To The Primitive; The
Nearness Of The Wood-Folk; A Sense Of Intimacy; A Recurrent
Feeling Of Awe At The Silent Inexorability Of All Around; And A
Sweet Pervading Sense Of Mastery In The Very Freedom. These Were
Among The Feelings That Swept In Waves Through Rolf, And When The
First Night Came, He Found Such Comfort -- Yes, He Had To Confess
It -- In The Company Of The Helpless Little Dog Whose Bed Was By
His Own.
But These Were Sensations That Come Not Often; In The Four Days
And Nights That He Was Alone They Lost All Force.
The Hunter Proverb About "Strange Beasts When You Have No Gun"
Was Amply Illustrated Now That Quonab Had Gone With Their Only
Firearm. The Second Night Before Turning In (He Slept In The
Shanty Now), He Was Taking A Last Look At The Stars, When A
Large, Dark Form Glided Among The Tree Trunks Between Him And The
Shimmering Lake; Stopped, Gazed At Him, Then Silently Disappeared
Along The Shore. No Wonder That He Kept The Shanty Door Closed
That Night, And Next Morning When He Studied The Sandy Ridges He
Read Plainly That His Night Visitor Had Been Not A Lynx Or A Fox,
But A Prowling Cougar Or Panther.
On The Third Morning As He Went Forth In The Still Early Dawn He
Heard A Snort, And Looking Toward The Spruce Woods, Was Amazed To
See Towering Up, Statuesque, Almost Grotesque, With Its Mulish
Ears And Antediluvian Horns, A Large Bull Moose.
Rolf Was No Coward, But The Sight Of That Monster So Close To Him
Set His Scalp A-Prickling. He Felt So Helpless Without Any
Firearms. He Stepped Into The Cabin, Took Down His Bow And
Arrows, Then Gave A Contemptuous "Humph; All Right For Partridge
And Squirrels, But Give Me A Rifle For The Woods!" He Went Out
Again; There Was The Moose Standing As Before. The Lad Rushed
Toward It A Few Steps, Shouting; It Stared Unmoved. But Rolf Was
Moved, And He Retreated To The Cabin. Then Remembering The
Potency Of Fire He Started A Blaze On The Hearth. The Thick
Smoke Curled Up On The Still Air, Hung Low, Made
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