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
Thrill Of Unnervement.
Sunk Down Nearly Out Of Sight, The Indian Slowly Reached The
Reeds. Here He Found Bottom, And Pausing, He Took The Rope In
One Hand, The Tomahawk In The Other, And Dived, And When He
Reappeared He Was Within Ten Yards Of The Enemy, And In Water But
Four Feet Deep.
With A Sudden Rush The Reptile Splashed Into The Pond And Out Of
Sight, Avoiding The Rope Noose. But Quonab Clutched Deep In The
Water As It Passed, And Seized The Monster's Rugged Tail. Then
It Showed Its Strength. In A Twinkling That Mighty Tail Was
Swung Sidewise, Crushing The Hand With Terrible Force Against The
Sharp-Edged Points Of The Back Armour. It Took All The Indian's
Grit To Hold On To That Knife-Edged War Club. He Dropped His
Tomahawk, Then With His Other Hand Swung The Rope To Catch The
Turtle's Head, But It Lurched So Quickly That The Rope Missed
Again, Slipped Over The Shell, And, As They Struggled, Encircled
One Huge Paw. The Indian Jerked It Tight, And They Were Bound
Together. But Now His Only Weapon Was Down At The Bottom And The
Water All Muddied. He Could Not See, But Plunged To Grope For
The Tomahawk. The Snapper Gave A Great Lurch To Escape, Releasing
The Injured Hand, But Jerking The Man Off His Legs. Then,
Finding Itself Held By A Forepaw, It Turned With Gaping, Hissing
Jaws, And Sprang On The Foe That Struggled In Bottom Of The
Water.
The Snapper Has The Bulldog Habit To Seize And Hold Till The
Piece Tears Out. In The Muddy Water It Had To Seize In The Dark,
And Fending First The Left Arm Of Its Foe, Fastened On With
Fierce Beak And Desperate Strength. At This Moment Quonab
Recovered His Tomahawk; Rising Into The Air He Dragged Up The
Hanging Snapper, And Swung The Weapon With All The Force Of His
Free Arm. The Blow Sank Through The Monster's Shell, Deep Into
Its Back, Without Any Visible Effect, Except To Rob The Indian Of
His Weapon As He Could Not Draw It Out.
Then Rolf Rushed Into The Water To Help. But Quonab Gasped, "No,
No, Go Back -- I'm Alone."
The Creature's Jaws Were Locked On His Arm, But Its Front Claws,
Tearing Downward And Outward, Were Demolishing The Coat That Had
Protected It, And Long Lines Of Mingled Blood Were Floating On
The Waves.
After A Desperate Plunge Toward Shallow Water, Quonab Gave
Another Wrench To The Tomahawk - It Moved, Loosed; Another, And
It Was Free. Then "Chop, Chop, Chop," And That Long, Serpentine
Neck Was Severed; The Body, Waving Its Great Scaly Legs And
Lashing Its Alligator Tail, Went Swimming Downward, But The Huge
Head, Blinking Its Bleary, Red Eyes And Streaming With Blood, Was
Clinched On His Arm. The Indian Made For The Bank Hauling The
Rope That Held The Living Body, And Fastened It To A Tree, Then
Drew His Knife To Cut The Jaw Muscles Of The Head That Ground Its
Beak Into His Flesh. But The Muscles Were Protected By Armour
Plates And Bone; He Could Not Deal A Stab To End Their Power. In
Vain He Fumbled And Slashed, Until In A Spasmodic Quiver The Jaws
Gaped Wide And The Bloody Head Fell To The Ground. Again It
Snapped, But A Tree Branch Bore The Brunt; On This The Strong
Jaws Clinched, And So Remained.
For Over An Hour The Headless Body Crawled, Or Tried To Crawl,
Always Toward The Lake. And Now They Could Look At The Enemy.
Not His Size So Much As His Weight Surprised Them. Although
Barely Four Feet Long, He Was So Heavy That Rolf Could Not Lift
Him. Quonab's Scratches Were Many But Slight; Only The Deep Bill
Wound Made His Arm And The Bruises Of The Jaws Were At All
Serious And Of These He Made Light. Headed By Skookum In Full
'Yap,' They Carried The Victim's Body To Camp; The Head, Still
Dutching The Stick, Was Decorated With Three Feathers, Then Set
On A Pole Near The Wigwam. And The Burden Of The Red Man's Song
When Next He Sang Was:
"Bosikado, Mine Enemy Was Mighty, But I Went Into His Country And
Made Him Afraid!"
Chapter 14 (Selectman Horton Appears At The Rock)
Summer Was At Its Height On The Asamuk. The Woodthrush Was
Nearing The End Of Its Song; A Vast Concourse Of Young Robins In
Their Speckled Plumage Joined Chattering Every Night In The
Thickest Cedars; And One Or Two Broods Of Young Ducks Were Seen
On The Pipestave Pond.
Rolf Had Grown Wonderfully Well Into His Wigwam Life. He Knew Now
Exactly How To Set The Flap So As To Draw Out All The Smoke, No
Matter Which Way The Wind Blew; He Had Learned The Sunset Signs,
Which Tell What Change Of Wind The Night Might Bring. He Knew
Without Going To The Shore Whether The Tide Was A Little Ebb,
With Poor Chances, Or A Mighty Outflow That Would Expose The
Fattest Oyster Beds. His Practiced Fingers Told At A Touch
Whether It Was A Turtle Or A Big Fish On His Night Line; And By
The Tone Of The Tom-Tom He Knew When A Rainstorm Was At Hand.
Being Trained In Industry, He Had Made Many Improvements In Their
Camp, Not The Least Of Which Was To Clean Up And Burn All The
Rubbish And Garbage That Attracted Hordes Of Flies. He Had
Fitted Into The Camp Partly By Changing It To Fit Himself, And He
No Longer Felt That His Stay There Was A Temporary Shift. When
It Was To End, He Neither Knew Nor Cared. He Realized Only That
He Was Enjoying Life As He Never Had Done Before. His Canoe Had
Passed A Lot Of Rapids And Was Now In A Steady, Unbroken Stream
-- But It Was The Swift Shoot Before The Fall. A Lull In The
Clamour Does Not Mean The End Of War, But A New Onset Preparing;
And, Of Course, It Came In The Way Least Looked For.
Selectman Horton Stood Well With The Community; He Was A Man Of
Good Judgment, Good Position, And Kind Heart. He Was Owner Of
All The Woods Along The Asamuk, And Thus The Indian's Landlord On
The Indian's Ancestral Land. Both Rolf And Quonab Had Worked For
Horton, And So They Knew Him Well, And Liked Him For His
Goodness.
It Was Wednesday Morning, Late In July, When Selectman Horton,
Clean-Shaven And Large, Appeared At The Wigwam Under The Rock.
"Good Morrow To Ye Both!" Then Without Wasting Time He Plunged
In. "There's Been Some Controversy And Much Criticism Of The
Selectmen For Allowing A White Lad, The Child Of Christian
Parents, The Grandson Of A Clergyman, To Leave All Christian Folk
And Folds, And Herd With A Pagan, To Become, As It Were, A Mere
Barbarian. I Hold Not, Indeed, With Those That Out Of Hand Would
Condemn As Godless A Good Fellow Like Quonab, Who, In My Certain
Knowledge And According To His Poor Light, Doth Indeed Maintain
In Some Kind A Daily Worship Of A Sort. Nevertheless, The
Selectmen, The Magistrates, The Clergy, The People Generally, And
Above All The Missionary Society, Are Deeply Moved In The Matter.
It Hath Even Been Made A Personal Charge Against Myself, And With
Much Bitterness I Am Held Up As Unzealous For Allowing Such A
Nefarious Stronghold Of Satan To Continue On Mine Own Demesne,
And Harbour One, Escaped, As It Were, From Grace. Acting,
Therefore, Not According To My Heart, But As Spokesman Of The
Town Council, The Synod Of Elders, And The Society For The
Promulgation Of Godliness Among The Heathen, I Am To State That
You, Rolf Kittering, Being Without Kinsfolk And Under Age, Are In
Verity A Ward Of The Parish, And As Such, It Hath Been Arranged
That You Become A Member Of The Household Of The Most Worthy
Elder Ezekiel Peck, A Household Filled With The Spirit Of
Estimable Piety And True Doctrine; A Man, Indeed, Who,
Notwithstanding His Exterior Coldness And Severity, Is Very Sound
In All Matters Regarding The Communion Of Saints, And, I May Even
Say In A Measure A Man Of Fame For Some Most Excellent Remarks He
Hath Passed On The Shorter Catechism, Beside Which He Hath Gained
Much Approval For Having Pointed Out Two Hidden Meanings In The
27th Verse Of The 12th Chapter Of Hebrews; One Whose Very
Presence, Therefore, Is A Guarantee Against Levity, Laxity, And
False Preachment.
"There, Now, My Good Lad, Look Not So Like A Colt That Feels The
Whip For The First Time. You Will Have A Good Home, Imbued With
The Spirit Of A Most Excellent Piety That Will Be Ever About
You."
"Like A Colt Feeling The Whip," Indeed! Rolf Reeled Like A
Stricken Deer. To Go Back As A Chore-Boy Drudge Was Possible,
But Not Alluring; To Leave Quonab, Just As The Wood World Was
Opening To Him, Was Devastating; But To Exchange It All For
Bondage In The Pious Household Of Old Peck, Whose Cold Cruelty
Had Driven Off All His Own Children, Was An Accumulation Of
Disasters That Aroused Him.
"I Won't Go!" He Blurted Out, And Gazed Defiantly At The Broad
And Benevolent Selectman.
"Come Now, Rolf, Such Language Is Unbecoming. Let Not A Hasty
Tongue Betray You Into Sin. This Is What Your Mother Would Have
Wished. Be Sensible; You Will Soon Find It Was All For The Best.
I Have Ever Liked You, And Will Ever Be A Friend You Can Count
On.
"Acting, Not According To My Instructions, But According To My
Heart, I Will Say Further That You Need Not Come Now, You Need
Not Even Give Answer Now, But Think It Over. Nevertheless,
Remember That On Or Before Monday Morning Next, You Will Be
Expected To Appear At Elder Peck's, And I Fear That, In Case You
Fail, The Messenger Next Arriving Will Be One Much Less Friendly
Than Myself. Come Now, Rolf, Be A Good Lad, And Remember That In
Your New Home You Will At Least Be Living For The Glory Of God."
Then, With A Friendly Nod, But An Expression Of Sorrow, The
Large, Black Messenger Turned And Tramped Away.
Rolf Slowly, Limply, Sank Down On A Rock And Stared At The Fire.
After Awhile Quonab Got Up And Began To Prepare The Mid-Day Meal.
Usually Rolf Helped Him. Now He Did Nothing But Sullenly Glare
At The Glowing Coals. In Half An Hour The Food Was Ready. He
Ate Little; Then Went Away In The Woods By Himself. Quonab Saw
Him Lying On A Flat Rock, Looking At The Pond, And Throwing
Pebbles Into It. Later Quonab Went To Myanos. On His Return He
Found That Rolf Had Cut Up A Great Pile Of Wood, But Not A Word
Passed Between Them. The Look Of Sullen Anger And Rebellion On
Rolf's Face Was Changing To One Of Stony Despair. What Was
Passing In Each Mind The Other Could Not Divine.
The Evening Meal Was Eaten In Silence; Then Quonab Smoked For An
Hour, Both Staring Into The Fire. A Barred Owl Hooted And
Laughed Over Their Heads, Causing The Dog To Jump Up And Bark At
The Sound That Ordinarily He Would Have Heeded Not At All. Then
Silence Was Restored, And The Red Man's Hidden Train Of Thought
Was In A Flash Revealed.
"Rolf, Let's Go To The North Woods!"
It Was Another Astounding Idea. Rolf Had Realized More And More
How Much This Valley Meant To Quonab, Who Worshipped The Memory
Of His People.
"And Leave All This?" He Replied, Making A Sweep With His Hand
Toward The Rock, The Indian Trail, The Site Of Bygone Petuquapen,
And The Graves Of The Tribe.
For Reply Their Eyes Met, And From The Indian's Deep Chest Came
The Single Word, "Ugh." One Syllable, Deep And Descending, But
What A Tale It Told Of The Slowly Engendered And Strong-Grown
Partiality, Of A Struggle That Had Continued Since The Morning
When The Selectman Came With Words Of Doom, And Of Friendship's
Victory Won.
Rolf Realized This, And It Gave Him A Momentary Choking In His
Throat, And, "I'm Ready If You Really Mean It."
"Ugh I Go, But Some Day Come
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