Rolf In The Woods - Ernest Thompson Seton (interesting books to read for teens .TXT) 📗
- Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
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The Latter Supposed, And Would Have Taken The Bundle Of Furs Had
Not Skookum Sprung On The Robber And Driven Him Away From The Canoe.
And Now Hoag Showed His True Character. "Them's My Furs And My
Canoe," He Said To One Of The Mill Hands, And Turning To The Two
Who Had Saved Him, He Said: "An' You Two Dirty, Cutthroat,
Redskin Thieves, You Can Get Out Of Town As Fast As Ye Know How,
Or I'll Have Ye Jugged," And All The Pent-Up Hate Of His Hateful
Nature Frothed Out In Words Insulting And Unprintable.
"Talks Like A White Man," Said Quonab Coldly. Rolf Was Speechless.
To Toil So Devotedly, And To Have Such Filthy, Humiliating Words
For Thanks! He Wondered If Even His Uncle Mike Would Have Shown
So Vile A Spirit.
Hoag Gave Free Rein To His Tongue, And Found In His Pal, Bill Hawkins,
One With Ready Ears To Hear His Tale Of Woe. The Wretch Began To Feel
Himself Frightfully Ill-Used. So, Fired At Last By The Evermore Lurid
Story Of His Wrongs, The "Partner" Brought The Magistrate, So They
Could Swear Out A Warrant, Arrest The Two "Outlaws," And Especially
Secure The Bundle Of "Hoag's Furs" In The Canoe.
Old Silas Sylvanne, The Mill-Owner And Pioneer Of The Place, Was
Also Its Magistrate. He Was Tall, Thin, Blacklooking, A Sort Of
Abe Lincoln In Type, Physically, And In Some Sort, Mentally. He
Heard The Harrowing Tale Of Terrible Crime, Robbery, And Torture,
Inflicted On Poor Harmless Hoag By These Two Ghouls In Human Shape;
He Listened, At First Shocked, But Little By Little Amused.
"You Don't Get No Warrant Till I Hear From The Other Side,"
He Said. Roff And Quonab Came At Call. The Old Pioneer Sized
Up The Two, As They Stood, Then, Addressing Rolf, Said:
"Air You An Injun?" "No, Sir." "Air You Half-Breed?" "No, Sir."
"Well, Let's Hear About This Business," And He Turned His
Piercing Eyes Full On The Lad's Face.
Rolf Told The Simple, Straight Story Of Their Acquaintance With Hoag,
From The First Day At Warren's To Their Arrival At The Falls.
There Is Never Any Doubt About The Truth Of A True Story,
If It Be Long Enough, And This True Story, Presented In Its
Nakedness To The Shrewd And Kindly Old Hunter, Trader, Mill-Owner
And Magistrate, Could Have Only One Effect.
"Sonny," He Said, Slowly And Kindly, "I Know That Ye Have Told Me
The Truth. I Believe Every Word Of It. We All Know That Hoag Is
The Meanest Cuss And Biggest Liar On The River. He's A Nuisance,
And Always Was. He Only Promised To Give Ye The Canoe And The
Rifle, And Since He Don't Want To, We Can't Help It. About The
Trouble In The Woods, You Got Two Witnesses To His One, And Ye
Got The Furs And The Traps; It's Just As Well Ye Left The Other
Furs Behind, Or Ye Might Have Had To Divide 'Em; So Keep Them And
Call The Hull Thing Square. We'll Find Ye A Canoe To Get Out Of
This Gay Metropolis, And As To Hoag, Ye Needn't A-Worry; His
Travelling Days Is Done."
A Man With A Bundle Of High-Class Furs Is A Man Of Means In Any
Frontier Town. The Magistrate Was Trader, Too, So They Set About
Disposing Of Their Furs And Buying The Supplies They Needed.
The Day Was Nearly Done Before Their New Canoe Was Gummed And
Ready With The New Supplies. When Dealing, Old Sylvanne Had A
Mild, Quiet Manner, And A Peculiar Way Of Making Funny Remarks
That Led Some To Imagine He Was "Easy" In Business; But It Was
Usual To Find At The End That He Had Lost Nothing By His Manners,
And Rival Traders Shunned An Encounter With Long Sylvanne Of The
Unruffled Brow.
When Business Was Done -- Keen And Complete -- He Said: "Now,
I'm A Goin' To Give Each Of Ye A Present," And Handed Out Two
Double-Bladed Jackknives, New Things In Those Days, Wonderful
Things, Precious Treasures In Their Eyes, Sources Of Endless Joy;
And Even Had They Known That One Marten Skin Would Buy A Quart Of
Them, Their Pleasant Surprise And Childish Joy Would Not Have
Been In Any Way Tempered Or Alloyed.
"Ye Better Eat With Me, Boys, An' Start In The Morning." So They
Joined The Miller's Long, Continuous Family, And Shared His
Evening Meal. Afterward As They Sat For Three Hours And Smoked
On The Broad Porch That Looked Out On The River, Old Sylvanne,
Who Had Evidently Taken A Fancy To Rolf, Regaled Them With A
Long, Rambling Talk On "Fellers And Things," That Was One Of The
Most Interesting Rolf Had Ever Listened To. At The Time It Was
Simply Amusing; It Was Not Till Years After That The Lad Realized
By Its Effect On Himself, Its Insight, And Its Hold On His
Memory, That Si Sylvanne's Talk Was Real Wisdom. Parts Of It
Would Not Look Well In Print; But The Rugged Words, The Uncouth
Saxonism, The Obscene Phrase, Were The Mere Oaken Bucket In Which
The Pure And Precious Waters Were Hauled To The Surface.
"Looked Like He Had Ye Pinched When That Shyster Got Ye In To
Lyons Falls. Wall, There's Two Bad Places For Jack Hoag; One Is
Where They Don't Know Him At All, An' Take Him On His Looks; An'
T'other Is Where They Know Him Through And Through For Twenty
Years, Like We Hev. A Smart Rogue Kin Put Up A False Front Fer A
Year Or Maybe Two, But Given Twenty Year To Try Him, For And Bye,
Summer An' Winter, An' I Reckon A Man's Make Is Pretty Well
Showed Up, Without No Dark Corners Left Unexplored.
"Not That I Want To Jedge Him Harsh, Coz I Don't Know What Kind
O' Maggots Is Eatin' His Innards To Make Him So Ornery. I'm
Bound To Suppose He Has 'Em, Or He Wouldn't Act So Dum Like It.
So I Says, Go Slow And Gentle Before Puttin' A Black Brand On Any
Feller; As My Mother Used To Say, Never Say A Bad Thing Till Ye
Ask, 'Is It True, Is It Kind, Is It Necessary?' An' I Tell You,
The Older I Git, The Slower I Jedge; When I Wuz Your Age, I Wuz A
Steel Trap On A Hair Trigger, An' Cocksure. I Tell You, There
Ain't Anythin' Wiser Nor A Sixteen-Year-Old Boy, 'Cept Maybe A
Fifteen-Year-Old Girl.
"Ye'll Genilly Find, Lad, Jest When Things Looks About As Black
As They Kin Look, That's The Sign Of Luck A-Comin' Your Way,
Pervidin' Ye Hold Steady, Keep Cool And Kind; Something Happens
Every Time To Make It All Easy. There's Always A Way, An' The
Stout Heart Will Find It.
"Ye May Be Very Sure O' This, Boy, Yer Never Licked Till Ye Think
Ye Air An' If Ye Won't Think It, Ye Can't Be Licked.
It's Just The Same As Being Sick. I Seen A Lot O' Doctorin' In
My Day, And I'm Forced To Believe There Ain't Any Sick Folks
'Cept Them That Thinks They Air Sick.
"The Older I Git, The More I'm Bound To Consider That Most Things
Is Inside, Anyhow, And What's Outside Don't Count For Much.
"So It Stands To Reason When Ye Play The Game For What's Inside,
Ye Win Over All The Outside Players. When Ye Done Kindness To
Hoag, Ye Mightn't A Meant It, But Ye Was Bracin' Up The Goodness
In Yerself, Or Bankin' It Up Somewher' On The Trail Ahead, Where
It Was Needed. And He Was Simply Chawin' His Own Leg Off, When
He Done Ye Dirt. I Ain't Much O' A Prattlin' Christian, But I
Reckon As A Cold-Blooded, Business Proposition It Pays To Lend
The Neighbour A Hand; Not That I Go Much On Gratitude. It's
Scarcer'n Snowballs In Hell -- Which Ain't The Point; But I Take
Notice There Ain't Any Man'll Hate Ye More'n The Feller That
Knows He's Acted Mean To Ye. An' There Ain't Any Feller More
Ready To Fight Yer Battles Than The Chap That By Some Dum
Accident Has Hed The Luck To Help Ye, Even If He Only Done It To
Spite Some One Else -- Which 'Minds Me O' Mccarthy's Bull Pup
That Saved The Drowning Kittens By Mistake, And Ever After Was A
Fightin' Cat Protector, Whereby He Lost The Chief Joy O' His
Life, Which Had Been Cat-Killin'. An' The Way They Cured The Cat
O' Eatin' Squirrels Was Givin' Her A Litter O' Squirrels To Raise.
"I Tell Ye There's A Lot O' Common-Sense An' Kindness In The
Country, Only It's So Dum Slow To Git Around; While The
Cussedness And Meanness Always Acts Like They Felt The Hell Fire
Sizzlin' Their Hind-End Whiskers, An' Knowed They Had Jest So
Many Minutes To Live An' Make A Record. There's Where A Man's
Smart That Fixes Things So He Kin Hold Out A Long Time, Fer The
Good Stuff In Men's Minds Is What Lasts; And The Feller What Can
Stay With It Hez Proved Hisself By Stayin'. How'd Ye Happen To
Tie Up With The Injun, Rolf?"
"Do Ye Want Me To Tell It Long Or Short?" Was The Reply. "Wall,
Short, Fer A Start," And Silas Sylvanne Chuckled.
So Rolf Gave A Very Brief Account Of His Early Life.
"Pretty Good," Said The Miller; "Now Let's Hear It Long."
And When He Had Finished, The Miller Said: "I've Seen Yer Tried
Fer Most Everything That Goes To Make A Man, Rolf, An' I Hev My
Own Notion Of The Results. You Ain't Goin' To Live Ferever In
Them Hills. When Ye've Hed Yer Fling An' Want A Change, Let Me Know."
Early Next Day The Two Hunters Paddled Up The Moose River With A
Good Canoe, An Outfit Of Groceries, And A Small Supply Of Ready Cash.
"Good-Bye, Lad, Good-Bye! Come Back Again And Ye'll Find We
Improve On Acquaintance; An' Don't Forget I'm Buying Fur," Was Si
Sylvanne's Last Word. And As They Rounded The Point, On The Home
Way, Rolf Turned In The Canoe, Faced Quonab, And Said: "Ye See
There Are Some Good White Men Left;" But The Indian Neither
Blinked, Nor Moved, Nor Made A Sound.
Chapter 48 (Rolf's Lesson In Trailing)
The Return Journey Was Hard Paddling Against Strong Waters, But
Otherwise Uneventful. Once Over Any Trail Is Enough To Fix It In
The Memory Of A Woodman. They Made No Mistakes And Their Loads
Were Light, So The Portages Were Scarcely Any Loss Of Time, And
In Two Days They Were Back At Hoag's Cabin.
Of This They Took Possession. First, They Gathered All Things Of
Value, And That Was Little Since The Furs And Bedding Were Gone,
But There Were A Few Traps And Some Dishes. The Stuff Was Made
In Two Packs; Now It Was An Overland Journey, So The Canoe Was
Hidden In A Cedar Thicket, A Quarter Of A Mile Inland. The Two
Were About To Shoulder The Packs, Quonab Was Lighting His Pipe
For A Start, When Rolf Said:
"Say, Quonab! That Fellow We Saw At The Falls Claimed To Be
Hoag's Partner. He May Come On Here And Make Trouble If We Don't
Head Him Off. Let's Burn Her," And He Nodded Toward The Shanty.
"Ugh!" Was The Reply.
They Gathered Some Dry Brush And A Lot Of Birch Bark, Piled Them
Up Against The Wall Inside, And Threw Plenty Of Firewood On This.
With Flint And Steel Quonab Made The Vital Spark, The Birch Bark
Sputtered, The Dry, Resinous Logs Were Easily Set Ablaze, And
Soon Great Volumes Of Smoke Rolled From The Door, The Window, And
The Chimney; And Skookum, Standing Afar, Barked Pleasantly Aloud.
The Hunters Shouldered Their Packs And Began The Long, Upward
Slope. In An Hour They Had Reached A High, Rocky Ridge. Here
They Stopped To Rest, And, Far Below Them, Marked With Grim Joy A
Twisted, Leaning Column Of Thick Black Smoke.
That Night They Camped In The Woods And Next Day Rejoiced To Be
Back Again At Their Own Cabin, Their Own Lake, Their Home.
Several Times During The March
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