Rolf In The Woods - Ernest Thompson Seton (interesting books to read for teens .TXT) 📗
- Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
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Being Caught, While Rolf Looked On. Quonab Was Lying Back On A
Pile Of Deer Skins, With His Pipe In His Mouth, His Head On The
Bunk, And His Hands Clasped Back Of His Neck.
There Was An Atmosphere Of Content And Brotherly Feeling; The
Evening Was Young, When Rolf Broke Silence:
"Were You Ever Married, Quonab?"
"Ugh," Was The Indian's Affirmative.
"Where?"
"Myanos."
Rolf Did Not Venture More Questions, But Left The Influence Of
The Hour To Work. It Was A Moment Of Delicate Poise, And Rolf
Knew A Touch Would Open The Door Or Double Bar It. He Wondered
How He Might Give That Touch As He Wished It. Skookum Still
Slept. Both Men Watched The Mouse, As, With Quick Movements It
Crept About. Presently It Approached A Long Birch Stick That
Stood Up Against The Wall. High Hanging Was The Song-Drum. Rolf
Wished Quonab Would Take It And Let It Open His Heart, But He
Dared Not Offer It; That Might Have The Exact Wrong Effect. Now
The Mouse Was Behind The Birch Stick. Then Rolf Noticed That The
Stick If It Were To Fall Would Strike A Drying Line, One End Of
Which Was On The Song-Drum Peg. So He Made A Dash At The Mouse
And Displaced The Stick; The Jerk It Gave The Line Sent The
Song-Drum With Hollow Bumping To The Ground. The Boy Stooped To
Replace It; As He Did, Quonab Grunted And Rolf Turned To See His
Hand Stretched For The Drum. Had Rolf Officiously Offered It, It
Would Have Been Refused; Now The Indian Took It, Tapped And
Warmed It At The Fire, And Sang A Song Of The Wabanaki. It Was
Softly Done, And Very Low, But Rolf Was Close, For Almost The
First Time In Any Long Rendition, And He Got An Entirely New
Notion Of The Red Music. The Singer's Face Brightened As He
Tummed And Sang With Peculiar Grace Notes And Throat Warbles Of
"Kaluscap's War With The Magi," And The Spirit Of His People,
Rising To The Sweet Magic Of Melody, Came Shining In His Eyes.
He Sang The Lovers' Song, "The Bark Canoe." (See F. R. Burton's
"American Primitive Music.)
"While The Stars Shine And Falls The Dew, I Seek My Love In Bark Canoe."
And Then The Cradle Song,
"The Naked Bear Shall Never Catch Thee."
When He Stopped, He Stared At The Fire; And After A Long Pause
Rolf Ventured, "My Mother Would Have Loved Your Songs."
Whether He Heard Or Not, The Warm Emanation Surely Reached The
Indian, And He Began To Answer The Question Of An Hour Before:
"Her Name Was Gamowini, For She Sang Like The Sweet Night Bird At
Asamuk. I Brought Her From Her Father's House At Saugatuck. We
Lived At Myanos. She Made Beautiful Baskets And Moccasins. I
Fished And Trapped; We Had Enough. Then The Baby Came. He Had
Big Round Eyes, So We Called Him Wee-Wees, 'Our Little Owl,' And
We Were Very Happy. When Gamowini Sang To Her Baby, The World
Seemed Full Of Sun. One Day When Wee-Wees Could Walk She Left
Him With Me And She Went To Stamford With Some Baskets To Sell.
A Big Ship Was In The Harbour. A Man From The Ship Told Her That
His Sailors Would Buy All Her Baskets. She Had No Fear. On The
Ship They Seized Her For A Runaway Slave, And Hid Her Till They
Sailed Away.
"When She Did Not Come Back I Took Wee-Wees On My Shoulder And
Went Quickly To Stamford. I Soon Found Out A Little, But The
People Did Not Know The Ship, Or Whence She Came, Or Where She
Went, They Said. They Did Not Seem To Care. My Heart Grew
Hotter And Wilder. I Wanted To Fight. I Would Have Killed The
Men On The Dock, But They Were Many. They Bound Me And Put Me In
Jail For Three Months. 'When I Came Out Wee-Wees Was Dead. They
Did Not Care. I Have Heard Nothing Since. Then I Went To Live
Under The Rock, So I Should Not See Our First Home. I Do Not
Know; She May Be Alive. But I Think It Killed Her To Lose Her Baby."
The Indian Stopped; Then Rose Quickly. His Face Was Hard Set.
He Stepped Out Into The Snowstorm And The Night. Rolf Was Left
Alone With Skookum.
Sad, Sad, Everything Seemed Sad In His Friend's Life, And Rolf,
Brooding Over It With Wisdom Beyond His Years, Could Not Help
Asking: "Had Quonab And Gamowini Been White Folk, Would It Have
Happened So? Would His Agony Have Been Received With Scornful
Indifference? Alas! He Knew It Would Not. He Realized It Would
Have Been A Very Different Tale, And The Sequent Questions That
Would Not Down, Were, "Will This Bread Cast On The Waters Return
After Many Days?" "Is There A God Of Justice And Retribution?"
"On Whom Will The Flail Of Vengeance Fall For All These Abominations?"
Two Hours Later The Indian Returned. No Word Was Spoken As He
Entered. He Was Not Cold. He Must Have Walked Far. Rolf
Prepared For Bed. The Indian Stooped, Picked Up A Needle From
The Dusty Ground, One That Had Been Lost The Day Before, Silently
Handed It To His Companion, Who Gave Only A Recognizant "Hm,"
And Dropped It Into The Birch-Bark Box.
Chapter 44 (The Lost Bundle Of Furs)
There Had Been A Significant Cessation Of Robbery On Their Trap
Line After The Inconclusive Visit To The Enemy's Camp. But A New
And Extreme Exasperation Arose In The Month Of March, When The
Alternation Of Thaw And Frost Had Covered The Snow With A Hard
Crust That Rendered Snowshoes Unnecessary And Made It Easy To Run
Anywhere And Leave No Track.
They Had Gathered Up A Fisher And Some Martens Before They
Reached The Beaver Pond. They Had No Beaver Traps Now, But It
Was Interesting To Call And See How Many Of The Beavers Were
Left, And What They Were Doing.
Bubbling Springs On The Bank Of The Pond Had Made Open Water At
Several Places, Now That The Winter Frost Was Weakening. Out Of
These The Beavers Often Came, As Was Plainly Seen In The Tracks,
So The Trappers Approached Them Carefully.
They Were Scrutinizing One Of Them From Behind A Log, Quonab With
Ready Gun, Rolf Holding The Unwilling Skookum, When The Familiar
Broad, Flat Head Appeared. A Large Beaver Swam Around The Hole,
Sniffed And Looked, Then Silently Climbed The Bank, Evidently
Making For A Certain Aspen Tree That He Had Already Been Cutting.
He Was In Easy Range, And The Gunner Was About To Fire When Rolf
Pressed His Arm And Pointed. Here, Wandering Through The Wood,
Came A Large Lynx. It Had Not Seen Or Smelt Any Of The Living
Creatures Ahead, As Yet, But Speedily Sighted The Beaver Now
Working Away To Cut Down His Tree.
As A Pelt, The Beaver Was Worth More Than The Lynx, But The
Naturalist Is Strong In Most Hunters, And They Watched To See
What Would Happen.
The Lynx Seemed To Sink Into The Ground, And Was Lost To Sight As
Soon As He Knew Of A Possible Prey Ahead. And Now He Began His
Stalk. The Hunters Sighted Him Once As He Crossed A Level
Opening In The Snow. He Seemed Less Than Four Inches High As He
Crawled. Logs, Ridges, Trees, Or Twigs, Afforded Ample
Concealment, Till His Whiskers Appeared In A Thicket Within
Fifteen Feet Of The Beaver.
All This Was Painfully Exciting To Skookum, Who, Though He Could
Not See, Could Get Some Thrilling Whiffs, And He Strained Forward
To Improve His Opportunities. The Sound Of This Slight Struggle
Caught The Beaver's Ear. It Stopped Work, Wheeled, And Made For
The Water Hole. The Lynx Sprang From His Ambush, Seized The
Beaver By The Back, And Held On; But The Beaver Was Double The
Lynx's Weight, The Bank Was Steep And Slippery, The Struggling
Animals Kept Rolling Down Hill, Nearer And Nearer The Hole.
Then, On The Very Edge, The Beaver Gave A Great Plunge, And
Splashed Into The Water With The Lynx Clinging To Its Back. At
Once They Disappeared, And The Hunters Rushed To The Place,
Expecting Them To Float Up And Be An Easy Prey; But They Did Not
Float. At Length It Was Clear That The Pair Had Gone Under The
Ice, For In Water The Beaver Was Master.
After Five Minutes It Was Certain That The Lynx Must Be Dead.
Quonab Cut A Sapling And Made A Grappler. He Poked This Way And
That Way Under The Ice, Until At Length He Felt Something Soft.
With The Hatchet They Cut A Hole Over The Place And Then Dragged
Out The Body Of The Lynx. The Beaver, Of Course, Escaped And Was
Probably Little The Worse.
While Quonab Skinned The Catch, Rolf Prowled Around The Pond And
Soon Came Running Back To Tell Of A Remarkable Happening.
At Another Open Hole A Beaver Had Come Out, Wandered Twenty Yards
To A Mound Which He Had Castorized, Then Passed Several Hard Wood
Trees To Find A Large Poplar Or Aspen, The Favourite Food Tree.
This He Had Begun To Fell With Considerable Skill, But For Some
Strange Reason, Perhaps Because Alone, He Had Made A
Miscalculation, And When The Tree Came Crashing Down, It Had
Fallen Across His Back, Killed Him, And Pinned Him To The Ground.
It Was An Easy Matter For The Hunters To Remove The Log And
Secure His Pelt, So They Left The Beaver Pond, Richer Than They
Had Expected.
Next Night, When They Reached Their Half-Way Shanty, They Had The
Best Haul They Had Taken On This Line Since The Memorable Day
Wben They Got Six Beavers.
The Morning Dawned Clear And Bright. As They Breakfasted, They
Noticed An Extraordinary Gathering Of Ravens Far Away To The
North, Beyond Any Country They Had Visited. At Least Twenty Or
Thirty Of The Birds Were Sailing In Great Circles High Above A
Certain Place, Uttering A Deep, Sonorous Croak, From Time To
Time. Occasionally One Of The Ravens Would Dive Down Out Of Sight.
"Why Do They Fly Above That Way?"
"That Is To Let Other Ravens Know There Is Food Here. Their Eyes
Are Very Good. They Can See The Signal Ten Miles Away, So All
Come To The Place. My Father Told Me That You Can Gather All The
Ravens For Twenty Miles By Leaving A Carcass So They Can See It
And Signal Each Other. "
"Seems As If We Should Look Into That. Maybe Another Panther,"
Was Rolf's Remark.
The Indian Nodded; So Leaving The Bundle Of Furs In A Safe Place
With The Snowshoes, That They Carried On A Chance, They Set Out
Over The Hard Crust. It Was Two Or Three Miles To The Ravens'
Gathering, And, As Before, It Proved To Be Over A Cedar Brake
Where Was A Deer Yard.
Skookum Knew All About It. He Rushed Into The Woods, Filled With
The Joy Of Martial Glory. But Speedily Came Running Out Again As
Hard As He Could, Yelling "Yow, Yow, Yowl" For Help, While
Swiftly Following, Behind Him Were A Couple Of Gray Wolves.
Quonab Waited Till They Were Within Forty Yards; Then, Seeing The
Men, The Wolves Slowed Up And Veered; Quonab Fired; One Of The
Wolves Gave A Little, Doglike Yelp. Then They Leaped Into The
Bushes And Were Lost To View.
A Careful Study Of The Snow Showed One Or Two Triffing Traces Of
Blood. In The Deer Yard They Found At Least A Dozen Carcasses Of
Deer Killed By The Wolves, But None Very Recent. They Saw But
Few Deer And Nothing More Of The Wolves, For The Crust Had Made
All The Country Easy, And Both Kinds Fled Before The Hunters.
Exploring A Lower Level Of Willow Country In Hopes Of Finding
Beaver Delayed Them, And It Was Afternoon When They Returned To
The Half-Way Shanty, To Find Everything As They Left It, Except
That Their Pack Of Furs Had Totally Disappeared.
Of Course, The Hard Crust Gave No Sign Of Track. Their First
Thought Was Of The Old Enemy, But, Seeking Far And Near For
Evidence, They Found Pieces Of An Ermine Skin, And
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