Rolf In The Woods - Ernest Thompson Seton (interesting books to read for teens .TXT) 📗
- Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
Book online «Rolf In The Woods - Ernest Thompson Seton (interesting books to read for teens .TXT) 📗». Author Ernest Thompson Seton
Farther, The Rest Of It, Then, At Another Place, Fragments Of A
Muskrat's Skin. Those Made It Look Like The Work Of The
Trapper's Enemy, The Wolverine, Which, Though Rare, Was Surely
Found In These Hills. Yes! There Was A Wolverine Scratch Mark,
And Here Another Piece Of The Rat Skin. It Was Very Clear Who
Was The Thief.
"He Tore Up The Cheapest Ones Of The Lot Anyway," Said Rolf.
Then The Trappers Stared At Each Other Significantly -- Only The
Cheap Ones Destroyed; Why Should A Wolverine Show Such
Discrimination? There Was No Positive Sign Of Wolverine; In
Fact, The Icy Snow Gave No Sign Of Anything. There Was Little
Doubt That The Tom Furs And The Scratch Marks Were There To
Mislead; That This Was The Work Of A Human Robber, Almost
Certainly Hoag.
He Had Doubtless Seen Them Leave In The Morning, And It Was
Equally Sure, Since He Had Had Hours Of Start, He Would Now Be
Far Away.
"Ugh! Give Him Few Days To Think He Safe, Then I Follow And
Settle All," And This Time The Indian Clearly Meant To End The
Matter.
Chapter 45 (The Subjugation Of Hoag)
A Feller As Weeps For Pity And Never Does A Finger-Tap To Help
Is 'Bout As Much Use As An Overcoat On A Drowning Man. -- Sayings
Of Si Sylvanne.
Some Remarkable Changes Of Weather Made Some Remarkable Changes
In Their Plan And Saved Their Enemy From Immediate Molestation.
For Two Weeks It Was A Succession Of Thaws And There Was Much
Rain. The Lake Was Covered With Six Inches Of Water; The River
Had A Current Above The Ice, That Was Rapidly Eating, The Latter
Away. Everywhere There Were Slush And Wet Snow That Put An End
To Travel And Brought On The Spring With A Rush.
Each Night There Was, Indeed, A Trifling Frost, But Each Day's
Sun Seemed Stronger, And Broad, Bare Patches Of Ground Appeared
On All Sunny Slopes.
On The First Crisp Day The Trappers Set Out To Go The Rounds,
Knowing Full Well That This Was The End Of The Season.
Henceforth For Six Months Deadfall And Snare Would Lie Idle And
Unset.
They Went Their Accustomed Line, Carrying Their Snowshoes, But
Rarely Needing Them. Then They Crossed A Large Track To Which
Quonab Pointed, And Grunted Affirmatively As Rolf Said "Bear?"
Yes! The Bears Were About Once More; Their Winter Sleep Was Over.
Now They Were Fat And The Fur Was Yet Prime; In A Month They
Would Be Thin And Shedding. Now Is The Time For Bear Hunting
With Either Trap Or Dog.
Doubtless Skookum Thought The Party Most Fortunately Equipped In
The Latter Respect, But No Single Dog Is Enough To Bay A Bear.
There Must Be Three Or Four To Bother Him Behind, To Make Him
Face About And Fight; One Dog Merely Makes Him Run Faster.
They Had No Traps, And Knowing That A Spring Bear Is A Far
Traveller, They Made No Attempt To Follow.
The Deadfalls Yielded Two Martens, But One Of Them Was Spoiled By
The Warm Weather. They Learned At Last That The Enemy Had A
Trap-Line, For Part Of Which He Used Their Deadfalls. He Had
Been The Rounds Lately And Had Profited At Least A Little By
Their Labours.
The Track, Though Two Days Old, Was Not Hard To Follow, Either On
Snow Or Ground. Quonab Looked To The Lock Of His Gun; His Lower
Lip Tightened And He Strode Along.
"What Are You Going To Do, Quonab? Not Shoot?"
"When I Get Near Enough," And The Dangerous Look In The Red Man's
Eye Told Rolf To Be Quiet And Follow.
In Three Miles They Passed But Three Of His Marten Traps -- Very
Lazy Trapping -- And Then Found A Great Triangle Of Logs By A
Tree With A Bait And Signs Enough To Tell The Experienced Eye
That, In That Corner, Was Hidden A Huge Steel Trap For Bear.
They Were Almost Too Late In Restraining The Knowledge- Hunger Of
Skookum. They Went On A Mile Or Two And Realized In So Doing
That, However Poor A Trapper The Enemy Might Be, He Was A Good
Tramper And Knew The Country.
At Sundown They Came To Their Half-Way Shelter And Put Up There
For The Night. Once When Rolf Went Out To Glimpse The Skies
Before Turning In, He Heard A Far Tree Creaking And Wondered, For
It Was Dead Calm. Even Skookum Noticed It. But It Was Not
Repeated. Next Morning They Went On.
There Are Many Quaint Sounds In The Woods At All Times, The
Rasping Of Trees, At Least A Dozen Different Calls By Jays, Twice
As Many By Ravens, And Occasional Notes From Chicadees, Grouse,
And Owls. The Quadrupeds In General Are More Silent, But The Red
Squirrel Is Ever About And Noisy, As Well As Busy.
Far-Reaching Sounds Are These Echoes Of The Woods -- Some Of Them
Very Far. Probably There Were Not Five Minutes Of The Day Or
Night When Some Weird, Woodland Chatter, Scrape, Crack, Screech,
Or Whistle Did Not Reach The Keen Ears Of That Ever-Alert Dog.
That Is, Three Hundred Times A Day His Outer Ear Submitted To His
Inner Ear Some Report Of Things A-Doing, Which Same Report Was
As Often For Many Days Disregarded As Of No Interest Or Value.
But This Did Not Mean That He Missed Anything; The Steady Tramp,
Tramp Of Their Feet, While It Dulled All Sounds For The Hunter,
Seemed To Have No Effect On Skookum. Again The Raspy Squeal Of
Some Far Tree Reached His Inmost Brain, And His Hair Rose As He
Stopped And Gave A Low "Woof."
The Hunters Held Still; The Wise Ones Always Do, When A Dog Says
"Stop!" They Waited. After A Few Minutes It Came Again -- Merely
The Long-Drawn Creak Of A Tree Bough, Wind-Rubbed On Its
Neighbour.
And Yet, "Woof, Woof, Woof," Said Skookum, And Ran Ahead.
"Come Back, You Little Fool!" Cried Rolf.
But Skookum Had A Mind Of His Own. He Trotted Ahead, Then
Stopped, Paused, And Sniffed At Something In The Snow. The
Indian Picked It Up. It Was The Pocket Jackscrew That Every
Bear Trapper Carries To Set The Powerful Trap, And Without Which,
Indeed, One Man Cannot Manage The Springs.
He Held It Up With "Ugh! Hoag In Trouble Now." Clearly The Rival
Trapper Had Lost This Necessary Tool.
But The Finding Was An Accident. Skookum Pushed On. They Came
Along A Draw To A Little Hollow. The Dog, Far Forward, Began
Barking And Angrily Baying At Something. The Men Hurried To The
Scene To Find On The Snow, Fast Held In One Of Those Devilish
Engines Called A Bear Trap -- The Body Of Their Enemy -- Hoag,
The Trapper, Held By A Leg, And A Hand In The Gin He Himself Had
Been Setting.
A Fierce Light Played On The Indian's Face. Rolf Was Stricken
With Horror. But Even While They Contemplated The Body, The
Faint Cry Was Heard Again Coming From It.
"He's Alive; Hurry!" Cried Rolf. The Indian Did Not Hurry, But He Came.
He Had Vowed Vengeance At Sight; Why Should He Haste To Help?
The Implacable Iron Jaws Had Clutched The Trapper By One Knee And
The Right Hand. The First Thing Was To Free Him. How? No Man
Has Power Enough To Force That Spring. But The Jackscrew!
"Quonab, Help Him! For God's Sake, Come!" Cried Rolf In Agony,
Forgetting Their Feud And Seeing Only Tortured, Dying Man.
The Indian Gazed A Moment, Then Rose Quickly, And Put On The
Jackscrew. Under His Deft Fingers The First Spring Went Down,
But What About The Other? They Had No Other Screw. The Long
Buckskin Line They Always Carried Was Quickly Lashed Round And
Round The Down Spring To Hold It. Then The Screw Was Removed And
Put On The Other Spring; It Bent, And The Jaws Hung Loose. The
Indian Forced Them Wide Open, Drew Out The Mangled Limbs, A The
Trapper Was Free, But So Near Death, It Seemed They Were Too
Late.
Rolf Spread His Coat. The Indian Made A Fire. In Fifteen
Minutes They Were Pouring Hot Tea Between Victim's Lips. Even As
They Did, His Feeble Throat Gave Out Again The Long, Low Moan.
The Weather Was Mild Now. The Prisoner Was Not Actually Frozen,
But Numbed And Racked. Heat, Hot Tea, Kindly Rubbing, And He
Revived A Little.
At First They Thought Him Dying, But In An Hour Recovered Enough
To Talk. In Feeble Accents And Broken Phrases They Learned The
Tale:
"Yest -- M-M-M. Yesterday -- No; Two Or Three Days Back --
M-M-M-M-M -- I Dunno; I Was A Goin' -- Roun' Me Traps -- Me Bear
Traps. Didn't Have No Luck M-M-M (Yes, I'd Like Another Sip; Ye
Ain't Got No Whiskey No?) M-M-M. Nothing In Any Trap, And When I
Come To This Un -- Oh-H - M-M; I Seen - The Bait Was Stole By
Birds, An' The Pan -- M-M-M; An' The Pan, M-M-M - (Yes, That's
Better) -- An' The Pan Laid Bare. So I Starts To Cover It With
-- Ce-Ce-Dar; The Ony Thing I C'd Get -- M-M-M-W- -- Wuz Leanin'
Over -- To Fix Tother Side -- Me Foot Slipped On -- The -- Ice --
Ev'rytbing Was Icy -- An'-- M-M-M-M -- I Lost -- Me Balance -- Me
Knee The Pan -- O Lord -- How I Suffer! -- M-M-M It Grabbed Me --
Knee An'-- H-H-Hand -" His Voice Died To A Whisper And Ceased;
He Seemed Sinking.
Quonab Got Up To Hold Him. Then, Looking At Rolf, Indian Shook
His Head As Though To Say All Was Over; The Poor Wretch Had A
Woodman's Constitution, And In Spite Of A Mangled, Dying Body, He
Revived Again. They Gave Him More Hot Tea, And Again He Began In
A Whisper:
"I Hed One Arm Free An' -- An' -- An' -- I Might -- A -- Got Out
-- M-M -- But I Hed No Wrench -- I Lost It Some Place -- M-M-M-M.
"Then -- I Yelled -- I Dun -- No - Maybe Some Un Might Hear -- It
Kin-Kin-Kinder Eased Me -- To Yell M-M-M.
"Say -- Make That Yer Dog Keep -- Away -- Will Yer I Dunno -- It
Seems Like A Week -- Must A Fainted Some M-M-M -- I Yelled --
When I Could."
There Was A Long Pause. Rolf Said, "Seems To Me I Heard You Last
Night, When We Were Up There. And Dog Heard You, Too. Do You
Want Me To Move That Leg Around?"
"M-M-M -- Yeh -- That's Better -- Say, You Air White -- Ain't Ye?
Ye Won't Leave Me -- Cos -- I Done Some Mean Things -- M-M-M. Ye
Won't, Will Ye?"
"No, You Needn't Worry -- We'll Stay By Ye."
Then He Muttered, They Could Not Tell What. He Closed His Eyes.
After Long Silence He Looked Around Wildly And Began Again:
"Say -- I Done You Dirt -- But Don't Leave Me -- Don't Leave Me."
Tears Ran Down His Face And He Moaned Piteously. "I'll -- Make
It -- Right -- You're White, Ain't Ye?"
Quonab Rose And Went For More Firewood. The Trapper Whispered,
"I'm Scared O' Him -- Now -- He'll Do Me -- Say, I'm Jest A Poor
Ole Man. If I Do Live -- Through -- This -- M-M-M-M -- I'll
Never Walk Again. I'm Crippled Sure."
It Was Long Before He Resumed. Then He Began: "Say, What Day Is
It -- Friday! -- I Must -- Been Two Days In There -- M-M-M -- I
Reckoned It Was A Week. When -- The -- Dog Came I Thought It Was
Wolves. Oh -- Ah, Didn't Care Much -- M-M-M. Say, Ye Won't
Leave Me -- Coz -- Coz -- I Treated -- Ye Mean. I -- Ain't Had
No L-L-Luck." He Went Off Into A Stupor, But Presently Let Out A
Long, Startling Cry, The Same As That They Had Heard In The
Night. The Dog Growled; The Men Stared. The Wretch's Eyes Were
Rolling Again. He Seemed Delirious.
Quonab Pointed To The East, Made The Sun-Up Sign, And Shook His
Head At The Victim. And Rolf Understood It To Mean
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