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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34454-8.txt b/34454-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f5c5407 --- /dev/null +++ b/34454-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4449 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret Trails, by Charles G. D. Roberts + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Secret Trails + +Author: Charles G. D. Roberts + +Release Date: November 27, 2010 [EBook #34454] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET TRAILS *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + +THE SECRET TRAILS + + +[Illustration] + +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + +NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS +ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO + +MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED + +LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA +MELBOURNE + +THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. + +TORONTO + +[Illustration: He struggled frantically to drag himself up again upon +the ledge.] + + + + +THE + +SECRET TRAILS + +BY + +CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +Author of "The Feet of the Furtive," "Kings in Exile," etc. + +_ILLUSTRATED_ + +New York +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +1916 + +_All rights reserved_ + +Copyright, 1914, +By the Associated Sunday Magazines. + +Copyright, 1915, +By the National Sunday Magazine, +By the Red Book Corporation, and +By the Illustrated Sunday Magazine. + +Copyright, 1916, +By the International Magazine Company. + + +COPYRIGHT, 1916, +BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + +Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1916. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +THE BLACK BOAR OF LONESOME WATER 1 + +THE DOG THAT SAVED THE BRIDGE 33 + +THE CALLING OF THE LOP-HORNED BULL 53 + +THE AIGRETTE 77 + +THE CABIN IN THE FLOOD 90 + +THE BROTHERS OF THE YOKE 115 + +THE TRAILERS 136 + +COCK-CROW 154 + +THE LEDGE ON BALD FACE 179 + +THE MORNING OF THE SILVER FROST 201 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +He struggled frantically to drag himself up + again upon the ledge _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE +The black boar had wandered so far into the wilderness + that he was safe from pursuit 10 + +He only knew his lines were close ahead, and he must reach them 50 + +Black and huge against the pallid radiance towered a moose bull 56 + +The mother egret flapped blindly upon the top of the water 84 + +"This ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's + a Noah's Ark, that's what it be!" 102 + +He launched himself into the battle 132 + +Leaping upwards and striking downwards with his destroying heels 160 + + + + +THE SECRET TRAILS + + + + +The Black Boar of Lonesome Water + + +I + +The population of Lonesome Water--some fourscore families in +all--acknowledged one sole fly in the ointment of its self-satisfaction. +Slowly, reluctantly, it had been brought to confess that the breed of +its pigs was not the best on earth. They were small, wiry pigs, +over-leisurely of growth, great feeders, yet hard to fatten; and in the +end they brought but an inferior price in the far-off market town by the +sea, to which their frozen, stiff-legged carcases were hauled on sleds +over the winter's snow. It was decided by the village council that the +breed must be severely improved. + +They were a peculiar people, the dwellers about the remote and lovely +shores of Lonesome Water. They were the descendants of a company of +Welsh sectarians who, having invented a little creed of their own which +was the sole repository of truth and righteousness, had emigrated to +escape the contamination of their neighbours. They had come to Canada +because Canada was not crowded; and they had chosen the lovely valley of +Lonesome Water, not for its loveliness, but for its lonesomeness and its +fertility, and for the fact that it was surrounded by tracts of barren +land which might keep off the defilements of the world. Here they +devoted themselves to farming and to the contemplation of their own +superiority; and having a national appreciation of the value of a +half-penny, they prospered. + +As may easily be understood, it was no small thing for the people of +Lonesome Water to be forced, by the unanswerable logic of the market +price, to acknowledge that their pigs were inferior to the pigs of the +ungodly. Of course, there were many in the Settlement who refused flatly +to believe that this could be so. Providence could not be so +short-sighted as to permit it. But the majority faced the truth with +solemn resolution. And Morgan Fluellyn, the hog reeve of Lonesome Water, +was sent to K-ville, to interview the secretary of the provincial +agricultural society, and to purchase--if it could be done at a +bargain--some pigs of a pedigree worthy the end in view. + +In the eyes of Morgan Fluellyn--small, deep-set, choleric eyes--the town +of K-ville, with its almost two thousand inhabitants, its busy picture +show, its three pubs, its cheerful, friendly girls, who adorned their +hats with lavish flowers and feathers, was a place upon which the fires +of an outraged heaven might some day fall. He had no mind to be caught +in K-ville at the moment of this merited catastrophe. He lost no time in +putting through his business. + +When he found the secretary, and learned the price of pedigree pigs, his +indignation nearly choked him. With righteous sternness he denounced the +secretary, the society, and the Government, and stalked from the +office. But an hour in the air brought him to a clearer understanding, +and his ambitions on behalf of his community revived. Lonesome Water had +the truth. She had a monopoly of the virtues. She should also have pigs +that would command these outrageous prices. Why should the ungodly +triumph? + +And they did not--at least, not altogether. Morgan Fluellyn was allowed +to achieve a bargain. The mollified secretary consented to sell him, at +a reduced figure, a big black Berkshire boar, of unimpeachable breeding, +but small success in the show-pen, and in temper not to be relied on. +The great boar had a steel ring through his snout, and Fluellyn set out +with him proudly. Fluellyn was delighted with his prize, but it appeared +that his prize was not equally delighted with Fluellyn. In fact, the +great grunting beast was surly and cantankerous from the first. He would +look at his purchaser with a malign cunning in his eyes, and sometimes +make a slash at his leg with gnashing jaws. But Fluellyn was by no +means lacking in the valour and pugnacity of his race, and his patience +was of the shortest. By means of that rope through his captive's snout, +he had an advantage which he knew how to make the most of. The fringe of +fiery whisker, which haloed his red, clean-shaven cheeks and chin like a +ruff, fairly curled with wrath at the beast's presumption, and he +administered such discipline with his cudgel as he felt sure would not +soon be forgotten. + +After this, for mile upon mile of the lonely backwoods trail, there was +peace, and even an apparent unanimity of purpose, between Fluellyn and +his sullenly grunting charge. But the great black boar was not really +subdued. He was merely biding his time. And because he bided it +cunningly, his time came. + +The trail was bad, the going hard, for there was no unnecessary travel +either way between Lonesome Water and her neighbour settlements. +Fluellyn was tired. It was getting along in the afternoon. He sat down +on a log which lay invitingly by the side of the trail. From the bag of +feed which he carried on his back, he poured out a goodly allowance for +the black boar, being not unwilling to keep the brute amiable. Then he +seated himself on the log, in the caressing spring sunshine, and pulled +out his pipe. For Fluellyn smoked. It was his one concession to human +weakness, and it had almost lost him his election as hog-reeve. +Nevertheless, he smoked. The air was bland, and he, too, became almost +bland. His choleric eyes grew visionary. He forgot to distrust the black +boar. + +The perfidious beast devoured its feed with noisy enthusiasm, at the +same time watching Fluellyn out of the corner of its wicked little eye. +When the feed was finished, it flashed about without a ghost of a +warning and charged full upon Fluellyn. + +Behind the log on which Fluellyn sat the ground fell away almost +perpendicularly, perhaps, twelve or fifteen feet, to the edge of a +foaming brown trout-brook fringed with alders. As the boar charged, +Fluellyn sprang to his feet. At the same time he tried to spring +backwards. His heels failed to clear the log; and in this his luck was +with him, for the boar this time meant murder. He plunged headlong, with +a yell of indignation, over the steep. And the animal, checking itself +at the brink, glared down upon him savagely, gnashing its tusks. + +Fluellyn was quite seriously damaged by his fall. His head and forehead +were badly cut, so that his face was bathed in blood and dirt, through +which his eyes glared upward no less fiercely than those of his +adversary. His left arm was broken and stabbing at him with keen +anguish, but he was too enraged to notice his hurts, and if it had been +suggested to him that his fall had saved his life, he would have blown +up with fury. He flew at the face of the steep like a wild-cat, +struggling to scramble up it and get at the foe. But in this purpose, +luckily for him, he was foiled by his broken arm. The boar, too, though +eager to follow up his triumph, durst not venture the descent. + +For some minutes, therefore, the antagonists faced each other, the boar +leaning over as far as he could, with vicious squeals and grunts and +slaverings and gnashings, while the indomitable Fluellyn, with language +which he had never guessed himself capable of, and which would have +caused his instant expulsion from Lonesome Water, defied and reviled +him, and strove to claw up to him. At last the boar, who, being the +victor, could best afford it, grew tired of the game. Tossing his armed +snout in the air, he drew back from the brink and trotted off into the +fir-woods on the other side of the trail. Delighted with his first taste +of freedom, he kept on for some miles without a halt, till at last he +came to a pond full of lily leaves, with soft black mud about its edges. +Here he lay down and wallowed till his wrath cooled. Then he stretched +himself in the grass and went to sleep. + +As for Fluellyn, his wrath had no excuse for cooling, for the anguish of +his hurts at last diverted his attention from it, more or less. He +stumbled on down the stream till he reached a spot where he could get +up the bank. By this time he was feeling faint, and his angry eyes were +half blinded with the blood which he kept wiping from them with his +sleeve. Nevertheless, he returned to the scene of his overthrow, and +from that point, without a thought of prudence, took up the trail of the +boar through the fir thickets. But he was no expert in woodcraft at the +best of times, and the trail soon eluded him. Forced at last to confess +himself worsted for the moment, he made his way back to the log, +snatched up the bag of feed, that his enemy might not return and enjoy +it, and with dogged resolution set his face once more toward Lonesome +Water. + +When he arrived there, he was babbling in a fever. His appearance was a +scandal, and his language cleared the village street. There were many +who held that he had gone astray under the wicked influence of +K-ville--which was no more than they had always said would happen to a +man who smoked tobacco. But the majority were for not condemning him +when he was unable to defend himself. For three weeks he lay helpless. +And by the time he was well enough to tell his story, which was +convincing to all but the sternest of his censors, the black boar had +wandered so far into the wilderness that he was safe from pursuit. There +were no woodsmen in Lonesome Water cunning enough to follow up his +obscure and devious trail. + + +II + +In spite of the allurements of the lily pool, the black boar forsook it +after a couple of blissful days' wallowing. The _wanderlust_, choked +back for generations, had awakened in his veins. He pushed on, not +caring in what direction, for perhaps a fortnight. Though food was +everywhere abundant, he had always to work for it, so he grew lean and +hard and swift. The memory of a thousand years of servitude slipped from +him, as it were, in a night, and at the touch of the wilderness many of +the instincts and aptitudes of a wild thing sprang up in him. Only the +instinct of concealment, of stealth, was lacking to this new equipment +of his. He feared nothing, and he hunted nothing more elusive than +lily-roots; so he took no care to disguise his movements. + +[Illustration: The black boar had wandered so far into the wilderness +that he was safe from pursuit.] + +At first, because of the noise he made, the forest seemed to him to be +empty of all living things but birds. Then one day, as he lay basking in +the sun, he saw a wild-cat pounce upon a rabbit. At first he stared +curiously. But when he saw the wild-cat feasting on her prey, he decided +that he wanted the banquet for himself. As he burst through the bushes, +the great cat stared for an instant in utter amazement, never having +seen or dreamed of such an apparition. Then, her eyes like moons, her +six-inch bob-tail fluffed to a bottle-brush, and every hair stiffly on +end, she bounced into the nearest tree. There in a crotch she crouched, +spitting and yowling, while her enemy tranquilly devoured the rabbit. +The tit-bit was not altogether to his taste, but he chose to eat it +rather than let the great cat have it. And, after all, it was something +of a change from roots and fungi. + +Having thus discovered that rabbits were more or less edible, the black +boar thenceforward chased them whenever they crossed his path. He never +came anywhere near the catching of them, but, in spite of that, he was +not discouraged. Some day, perhaps, he would meet a rabbit that could +not run so fast as the others. + +Fond as the boar was of wallowing in the cool mud of the lily ponds, he +was, in reality, a stickler for personal cleanliness. When the mud was +dry, he would roll in the moss, and scratch himself till it was all +rubbed off, leaving his black bristles in perfect condition. His habits +were as dainty as a cat's, and his bed of dead leaves, in the heart of +some dense thicket, was always kept dry and fastidiously clean. + +One day, as he lay asleep in one of these shadowy lairs, a bear came by, +moving noiselessly in the hope of surprising a rabbit or a brooding +partridge. A breath of air brought to the great prowler's nostrils a +scent which seemed to him strongly out of place there in the depths of +the forest. He stopped, lifted his muzzle, and sniffed critically. Yes, +that smell was unquestionably pig. Once he had captured a fat young pig +on the outskirts of a settler's farm, and his jaws watered at the +delicious remembrance. + +Crouching low, he crept up toward the thicket, led by his discriminating +nose. His huge paws made no more sound than the gliding of a shadow. +Peering in through the tangle of twigs and leafage, he was able to make +out some black creature asleep. He paused suspiciously. The pig of his +remembrance was white and much smaller than the animal he saw before +him. Still, his nose assured him that this was pig all right. His +appetite hushed his prudence, and, crashing into the thicket, he hurled +himself upon the slumbering form. + +And then a strange thing--a most disconcerting thing--happened to him. +That slumbering form heaved up beneath him, grunting, and shot out +between his hind legs with a violence which pitched him forward on his +nose. Before he could recover himself, it wheeled about, looking many +times larger than he had imagined it to be, and charged upon him with an +ear-splitting squeal of rage. The shock bowled him clean over, so that +he rolled out of the thicket, and at the same time he got a tearing +slash down his flank. Startled quite out of his customary pugnacious +courage, he bawled like a yearling cub, scrambled to his feet, and took +to flight ignominiously. But the unknown fury behind him could run as +fast as he, and it clung to his heels, squealing horribly and rooting at +his rump with murderous tusks. In a panic he clawed his way up the +nearest tree. + +Finding himself no longer pursued, he turned and stared down from among +the branches. He saw that his victorious adversary was indeed a pig, but +such a pig! He felt himself most treacherously ill-used--betrayed, in +fact. It was out of all fitness that a pig should be so big, so black, +and so abrupt in manners. Had he dared to put the matter again to the +test, he might have avenged his defeat, for he was much the heavier of +the two, and immeasurably the better armed for battle. But he had no +stomach to face that squealing fury again. He crawled on up to a +convenient crotch, and lay there licking his scars and whimpering softly +to himself, his appetite for pork entirely spoiled. + +The boar, after ramping about beneath the tree for a matter of perhaps a +half hour, at last trotted off in disgust, confirmed in his arrogance. +This easy victory over so large and formidable a foe convinced him, had +he needed any convincing, that he was lord of the wilderness. Had he +chanced, about that time, to meet another bear, of sturdier resolution +than the first, he would have had a rude disillusionment. + +As it was, however, no later than the following day he had an adventure +which jarred his complacence. It taught him not exactly prudence, but, +at least, a certain measure of circumspection, which was afterwards to +profit him. It was just on the edge of evening, when the wilderness +world was growing vague with violet shadows, and new, delicate scents +were breathing from leaf and bush at the touch of the dew, that the +confident wanderer caught sight of a little black-and-white striped +animal. It was hardly as large as a rabbit. It was not the colour of a +rabbit. It had by no means the watchful, timorous air of a rabbit. As a +matter of fact, it was a skunk; but his far-off ancestors had neglected +to hand down to him any informatory instinct about skunks. He jumped to +the conclusion that it was a rabbit, all the same--perhaps the fat, slow +rabbit which he had been hoping to come across. He hurled himself upon +it with his utmost dash, determined that this time the elusive little +beast should not escape him. + +And it didn't. In fact, it hardly tried to. When he was within a few +feet of it, it jerked its long tail into the air, and at the same time +something dreadful and incomprehensible struck him in the face. It +struck him in the eyes, the nose, the mouth, all at the same time. It +scalded him, it blinded him, it suffocated him, it sickened him. He +tried to stop himself, but he was too late. His impetus carried him on +so that he trod down and killed the little animal without being aware of +it. + +In fact, he paid no attention whatever to his victory. All he cared +about, for the moment, was breath. His outraged lungs had shut up tight +to keep out the intolerable invader. At last they opened, with a hoarse +gasp of protest at being forced to. Having regained his breath, such as +it was, he wanted to see. But his eyes were closed with a burning, +clinging, oily stuff, which also clung foully in his nostrils and in his +mouth. He strove clumsily to rub them clear with his fore-hooves, and, +failing in this, he flung himself on his back with head outstretched and +rolled frantically in the moss. Achieving thus a measure of vision out +of one inflamed and blurred eye, he caught sight of a marshy pool +gleaming through the trees. Gasping, coughing, blundering into tree and +bush as he went, he rushed to the water's edge and plunged his outraged +features as deep as he could into the cool slime. There he rooted and +champed and wallowed till the torment grew less intolerable to all his +senses, and his lungs once more performed their office without a spasm. + +But still that deadly taint clung nauseatingly to his nostrils and his +palate; and at last, quite beside himself with the torment, he emerged +from the water and started on a mad gallop through the woods, trying to +run away from it. He ran till he sank exhausted and fell into a heavy +sleep. When he woke up, there was the smell still with him, and for days +he could scarcely eat for the loathing of it. + +Gradually, however, the clean air and the deodorizing forest scents made +him once more tolerable to himself. But the lesson was not forgotten. +When, one bright and wind-swept morning, he came face to face with a +young porcupine, he stopped politely. The porcupine also stopped and +slowly erected its quills till its size was almost doubled. The boar was +much surprised. This sudden enlargement, indeed, was so +incomprehensible that it angered him. The strange absence of fear in the +nonchalant little creature also angered him. He was inclined to rush +upon it at once and chew it up. But the fact that its colour was more or +less black-and-white gave him a painful reminder of his late experience. +Perhaps this was another of those slow rabbits! He checked himself and +sniffed suspiciously. The stranger, with a little grumbling squeak, came +straight at him--not swiftly, or, indeed, angrily, but with a confident +deliberation that was most upsetting. The boar was big enough to have +stamped the porcupine's life out with one stroke of his hoof. But +instead of standing up to his tiny challenger, he turned tail and bolted +off squealing through the undergrowth as if nothing less than a troop of +lions were after him. + + +III + +The course of the black boar's wanderings brought him out at last upon +the desolate northern shores of Lonesome Water. At night he could +sometimes see, miles away across the lake, a gleam of the discreet +lights of the Settlement--perhaps, indeed, from the windows of Morgan +Fluellyn himself, whose cottage was close down on the waterside. This +northern shore, being mostly swamp and barren, was entirely ignored by +the dwellers in Lonesome Water Settlement, who were satisfied with their +own fertile fields, and not of an inquiring temperament. But it offered +the black boar just the retreat he was now in search of. Tired of +wandering, he found himself a lair in a dense and well-drained thicket +near the bank of a lilied stream which here wound slowly through reeds +and willows to the lake. + +Here, with food abundant, and never skunk or smell of skunk to challenge +his content, he wallowed and rooted the gold-and-green summer away and +found life good. He was not troubled by forebodings of the winter, +because he had never known anything of winter beyond the warmth of a +well-provided pen. + +One dreamy and windless afternoon in late September, when a delicate +bluish haze lay over the yellowing landscape, a birch canoe was pushed +in among the reeds, and a woodsman in grey homespun stepped ashore. He +was gaunt and rugged of feature, with quiet, keen, humorous eyes, and he +moved in his soft hide "larrigans" as lightly as a cat. He knew of a +little ice-cold spring in this neighbourhood not far from the river +bank, and he never passed the spot without stopping to drink deep at its +preternaturally crystal flow. + +He had not gone more than fifty yards up the shore when his eye was +caught by a most unusual trail. He stopped to examine it. As he did so, +a sudden crash in the bushes made him turn his head sharply. A massive +black shape, unlike anything he had ever seen before, was charging down +upon him. Whatever it was--and he remembered a picture he had once seen +of a wild boar charging a party of hunters--he knew it meant mischief of +the worst kind. And he had left his gun in the canoe. Under the +circumstances, he was not too proud to run. He ran well, which was +lucky for him. As he swung up his long legs into the branches, the black +boar reared himself against the trunk, gnashing his tusks and squealing +furiously. The man, from his safe perch, looked down upon him +thoughtfully for perhaps a whole minute. + +"Well, I'll be durned!" he ejaculated at last, getting out his pipe and +slowly filling it. "Ef 'tain't Fluellyn's pig! To think Jo Peddler 'ld +ever have to run from a pig!" + +For perhaps a half hour Peddler sat there and smoked contentedly enough, +with the patience which the wilderness teaches to all its children. He +expected his gaoler to go away and let him make a dash for the canoe. +But presently he concluded that the boar had no intention of going away. +If so, it was time to do something if he wanted to get across the lake +before dark. + +He cleaned the ashes out of his pipe and saved them carefully. Then he +refilled the pipe very loosely and smoked it violently half through, +which yielded him another collection of pungent ash. He repeated the +process several times, till he judged he had enough of the mixture--ash +and dry, powdered tobacco. Then, grinning, he let himself down till he +was barely out of reach, and began to tease and taunt his gaoler till +the surly beast was beside itself with rage, snorting and squealing and +rearing itself against the trunk in its efforts to get at him. At +length, with infinite pains and precision, he sifted the biting mixture +into his adversary's eyes and wide, snorting nostrils. By great good +luck he managed to hit the mark exactly. How he wished the stuff had +been pepper! + +At the result he nearly fell out of the tree with ecstasy. The boar's +squeal was cut short by a paroxysm of choking and coughing. The great +animal nearly fell over backwards. Then, remembering his ancient +experience with the skunk, he rushed blindly for the water, his eyes, +for the most part, screwed up tight, so that he crashed straight through +everything that stood in his path. Peddler dropped from his refuge and +ran for his canoe, laughing delightedly as he ran. What little grudge +he owed the animal for his temporary imprisonment, he felt to have been +amply repaid, and he was glad he had not yielded to his first impulse +and emptied the hot coals from his pipe into its nostrils. + +"I'll be givin' yer compliments to Fluellyn," he shouted, as he paddled +away, "an' likely he'll be over to call on ye afore long!" + + +IV + +Jo Peddler had small love for the peculiar community of Lonesome Water. +He never visited it except under the necessity of buying supplies for +his camp. He used to swear that its very molasses was sour, that its tea +was so self-righteous that it puckered his mouth. He never slept under +one of its roofs, choosing, rather, to pitch his tent in the patch of +dishevelled common on the outskirts of the village. + +On the morning after his interview with the black boar, he was making +his purchases at the village grocery--a "general" shop which sold also +hardware, dry goods, and patent medicines, and gave a sort of +disapproving harbourage to the worldly postoffice--when Morgan Fluellyn +dropped in, nodded non-committally, and sat down on a keg of nails. To +Peddler the bad-tempered little Welshman was less obnoxious than most of +his fellow-villagers, both because he was so far human as to smoke +tobacco, and because his reputation and self-satisfaction had been +damaged by the episode of the pedigree boar. There was little tenderness +toward damaged goods, or anything else, in Lonesome Water, so the +woodsman felt almost friendly toward Fluellyn. + +"What'll ye be givin' me," he inquired, proffering his plug of choice +tobacco, "ef I git yer pig back fer ye?" + +Fluellyn so far forgot himself as to spring eagerly to his feet. His +fringe of red whisker fairly curled forward to meet Peddler's +suggestion. If he could restore the precious animal to the community, +his prestige would be re-established. Moreover, his own sore shaken +self-esteem would lift its head and flourish once again. + +"I'd pay ye right well, Jo Peddler," he declared, forgetting his native +prudence in a bargain. "Can ye do it, man?" + +"I can that," replied Peddler. And the storekeeper, with a half-filled +kerosene tin in his hand, came forward to listen. + +"I'm a poor man," went on Fluellyn, recollecting himself with a jerk and +sitting down again on the nail keg. "I'm a poor man, as Mr. Perley +here'll tell ye, an' I've already had to pay for the pig out o' my own +pocket. An' it's cost me a fearful sum for the doctor. But I've said I +want the pig back, and I'd pay ye well. An' I won't go back on my word. +What'll ye take now?" + +"I know ye've been playing in hard luck, Fluellyn," said the woodsman +genially, "an' I ain't a-drivin' no bargain. I know what that there pig +cost ye down to K-ville. But he ain't no manner o' use to me. He ain't +what ye'd call a household pet, as ye'll agree. I'll find him and ketch +him an' deliver him to ye, sound in wind an' limb, down here at the +landin', if ye'll promise to pay me four pound for my trouble when the +job's rightly done. An' Mr. Perley here's my witness." + +Fluellyn drew a sigh of relief. He thought the woodsman a fool to be so +moderate, but he was not without an inkling of the truth that this +moderation was due to generosity and kindness rather than to folly. To +his amazement, he felt a prompting to be generous himself. + +"Tell ye what I'll do," said he, springing up again and grasping +Peddler's hand. "If ye'll take me along an' let me help ye fix him, I'll +make it five pound instead o' four. He done me bad, an' I'd like to git +square." + +"All right," said Peddler, with an understanding grin. + +On the following morning Peddler and Fluellyn set out for the north +shore of the lake. They went in a roomy row-boat, and they carried with +them an assortment of ropes and straps. They started very early, just on +the edge of dawn; for even here, in Lonesome Water, were to be found +certain spirits so imperfectly regenerate as to be not above curiosity, +not above a worldly itching to see the outcome of the venture; and +Peddler would have no marplots about to risk the upsetting of his plans. + +When they set out, the unruffled surface of the lake lay gleaming in +vast, irregular breadths and patches of polished steel-grey and ethereal +ice-blue and miraculous violet-silver, so beautiful that Peddler almost +shrank from breaking the charmed stillness with his oars, and even +Fluellyn felt strange stirrings within him of a long-atrophied sense of +beauty. The village of Lonesome Water slumbered heavily, with windows +and hearts alike close shut. + +The sun was high in the hot blue when the boat, with stealthy oars, +crept in among the reeds and made a noiseless landing. + +"If ye stir a foot outside the boat till I call to ye, Fluellyn, the +bargain's off, an' ye kin ketch the pig yerself," admonished Peddler in +a whisper, as he stole up the shore with a coil of ropes over his left +arm and a steel-shod canoe-pole in his right hand. + +He kept a wary eye on the thicket which he judged to be the black boar's +lair, until he was close to the foot of the tree in which he had +previously taken refuge. Then he coughed loudly, announcing his +presence. But there was no response from the thicket. + +"Come out o' that, ye black divil, an' I'll truss ye up like a bale o' +hay!" he shouted. + +As if this inducement was something quite irresistible, came a sudden +crashing, not in the thicket he was watching, but in the bushes directly +behind him, not a dozen paces away. Without stopping to look round, he +dropped his pole and jumped for the tree. + +"Bad luck to ye," he growled, as he gained his perch just in time, +"taking a feller by surprise that way!" + +As the beast squealed and ramped below, Peddler leaned down from his +perch and flicked it smartly with one of his lengths of rope, till it +was jumping up and down and almost bursting with rage. Then, securing +the rope to a stout branch, he made a slip-knot in the end of it and +tried to throw it over the boar's fore-leg. After half a dozen failures, +he made a lucky cast and instantly drew the noose tight. + +Instead of being daunted at this, the boar again rushed furiously at the +tree, rearing himself against it in a repetition of his former tactics. +This gave Peddler just the chance he wanted. + +"That's where ye've made the mistake, now," said he sympathetically, and +dropped another noose well over the beast's snout, beyond the tusks. As +he drew it tight, he took up the slack of both ropes in a deft hitch +over the branch; and the boar found itself strung up against the trunk, +dancing frantically on its hind legs, and no longer able even to squeal +effectively. + +"Maybe ye'll be a mite more civil now," mocked Peddler, and dropped +lightly from his branch to the ground. + +In half a minute he had whipped the frantic boar's two front legs +together, also its two hind legs, run a sliding rope from the one pair +to the other, and muzzled the formidable jaws more securely with a +leather skate-strap. Then he freed the ropes from above and lowered his +prisoner carefully to the ground, where it struggled madly till he drew +its fore legs and hind legs close together by means of the sliding rope. +Thus trussed up, it seemed at last to realize its defeat, and lay still +upon its side, breathing heavily, which, indeed, was about the only form +of activity left to it. Peddler stood off and surveyed his captive +benignantly as he filled his pipe. "Fluellyn," he called, "ye kin come +now an' have a talk with yer pig!" + +With a bound, Fluellyn came up the bank, burning to avenge his +humiliations, his cheeks glowing in their halo of crisp red whisker. But +at sight of the great boar lying trussed up so ignobly his face fell. + +"Why didn't ye let me have a hand in the job?" he demanded resentfully. + +"Sorry," said Peddler, "but it couldn't be done nohow. Ye'd hev spiled +the whole game, an' like as not got yer gizzard ripped. Now ye've got +him, I allow ye hain't got nawthin' to grumble at." And he waited +curiously to see what the little Welshman would do to relieve his +feelings. + +But Fluellyn, with all his faults, was not the man to kick a fallen foe. +For some moments he eyed the helpless black monster with so sinister a +gaze that Peddler thought he was devising some cruel vengeance, and made +ready to interfere, if necessary. But all Fluellyn did, in the end, was +to go over and seat himself comfortably on the great beast's panting +flank and proceed to fill his pipe. + +"It's goin' to be a hefty job a-gettin' him into the boat," said he at +length, sternly repressing the note of exultation that _would_ creep +into his voice. + + + + +The Dog that saved the Bridge + + +I + +The old canal lay dreaming under the autumn sun, tranquil between its +green banks and its two rows of stiffly-rimmed bordering poplars. Once a +busy highway for barges, it was now little more than a great drainage +ditch, with swallow and dragon-flies darting and flashing over its +seldom ruffled surface. Scattered here and there over the fat, green +meadows beyond its containing dykes, fat cows lay lazily chewing the +cud. + +It was a scene of unmarred peace. To the cows nothing could have seemed +more impregnable than their security. Off south-westward and southward, +to be sure, the horizon was columned, decoratively but ominously, by +pillars of dense smoke, sharp against the turquoise sky. But such +phenomena, however novel, failed to stir the cows to even the mildest +curiosity. The spacious summer air, however, was entertaining a strange +riot of noises. It thumped and throbbed and thundered. It seemed to be +ripped across from time to time with a dry, leisurely sound of tearing. +Again, it would be suddenly shattered with enormous earth-shaking +crashes. But all this foolish tumult was in the distance, and it gave +the cows not the slightest concern. It had not interfered with the +excellent quality of the pasturage; it had not disturbed the regularity +of milking-time. + +Strategically considered, the lazy old canal led from nowhere to +nowhere, and the low levels through which it ran were aside from the +track of the fighting. The peasant folk on their little farms still went +about their business, but very quietly and with lowered voices, as if +hoping thus to avoid the eye of Fate. + +Along the grass-grown towpath, marching in half-sections, came a tiny +detachment of long-coated Belgian riflemen with a machine-gun. The +deadly little weapon, on its two-wheeled toy carriage, was drawn by a +pair of sturdy, brindled dogs--mongrels, evidently, showing a dash of +bull and a dash of retriever in their make-up. They were not as large as +the dogs usually employed by the Belgians in this kind of service, but +they were strong, and keen on their job. Digging their strong toes into +the turf, they threw their weight valiantly into the straps, and pressed +on, with tongues hanging out and what looked like a cordial grin on +their panting jaws. They seemed desperately afraid of being left behind +by their quick-marching comrades. + +The little band kept well under the trees as they went, lest some +far-scouting aeroplane should catch sight of them. In the south-eastern +sky, presently, an aeroplane--a Taube--did appear; but it was so distant +that the young lieutenant in command of the detachment, after examining +it carefully with his field-glasses, concluded that it was little likely +to detect his dark line moving under the trees. The Taube, that +execrated dove of death, was spying over the Belgian trenches, and +doubtless daring a hot fire from the Belgian rifles. Once it made a +wide sweep north-westward, rapidly growing larger, and the little band +under the trees lay down, hiding themselves and the gun behind the dyke. +Then its flight swerved back over the Belgian lines, and the commander, +lowering his glasses with a deep breath of relief, gave the order to +march. Two minutes later, around the questing aeroplane appeared a +succession of sudden fleecy puffs of smoke, looking soft and harmless as +cotton-wool. One of these came just before the nose of the aeroplane. +Next moment the machine gave a great swooping dive, righted itself, +dived again, and dropped like a stone. + +"Thank God for that!" muttered the young lieutenant, and his men cheered +grimly under their breath. + +Three minutes later the detachment came to an old stone bridge. Here it +halted. The men began hastily entrenching themselves where they could +best command the approaches on the other side. The machine-gun, lifted +from its little carriage, was placed cunningly behind a screen of reeds. +The two dogs, panting, lay down in their harness under a thick bush. In +an amazingly brief time the whole party was so hidden that no one +approaching from the other side of the canal could have guessed there +was anything more formidable in the neighbourhood than the ruminating +cows. + +The neglected, almost forgotten, old bridge had suddenly leapt into +importance. Reinforcements for the sore-pressed division to the +south-east were being sent around by the north of the canal, and were to +cross by the bridge. The detachment had been sent to guard the bridge at +all costs from any wide-roving patrols of Uhlans who might take it into +their heads to blow it up. In war it is a pretty safe principle to blow +up any bridge if you are quite sure you won't be wanting it yourself. +The fact that the other side has spared it is enough to damn it +off-hand. + +The tumult of the far-off gunfire was so unremitting that the ears of +the bridge-guard gradually came to accept it as a mere background, +against which small, insignificant sounds, if sudden and unexpected, +became strangely conspicuous. The crowing of a cock in the farmyard a +few fields off, the sharp cry of a moorhen, the spasmodic gabbling of a +flock of fat ducks in the canal--these small noises were almost as +clearly differentiated as if heard in a stark silence. + +For perhaps an hour the detachment had lain concealed, when those +ominous pillars of smoke against the sky were joined suddenly by swarms +of the little white puffs of cotton-wool, and the confused noises +redoubled in violence. The battle was swaying nearer and spreading +around a swiftly widening arc of the low horizon. Then another +aeroplane--another bird-like Taube--came in view, darting up from a +little south of west. The young lieutenant, in his hiding-place beside +the bridge-head clapped his glasses anxiously to his eyes. Yes, the +deadly flier was heading straight for this position. Evidently the +Germans knew of that out-of-the-way bridge, and in their eyes also, for +some reason, it had suddenly acquired importance. The Taube was coming +to see in what force it was held. + +"Spies again!" he grunted savagely, turning to explain to his men. + +Flying at a height of only five or six hundred metres, the Taube flew +straight over them. There was no longer any use in attempting +concealment. The riflemen opened fire upon it furiously as soon as it +came within range. It was hit several times; but the Taube is a steel +machine, well protected from below, and neither the pilot nor any vital +part of the mechanism was damaged. It made haste, however, to climb and +swerve away from so hot a neighbourhood. But first, as a message of +defiance, it dropped a bomb. The bomb fell sixty or seventy yards away +from the bridge back in the meadow, among a group of cows. The explosion +killed one cow and wounded several. The survivors, thus rudely shocked +out of their indifference, stamped off down the field, tails in air and +bellowing frantically. + +"That cooks _our_ goose," snapped one of the riflemen concisely. + +"Their shells'll be dead on to us in ten minutes' time," growled +another. And all cursed soberly. + +"I don't think so," said the young lieutenant, after a moment's +hesitation. "They want the bridge, so they won't shell it. But you'll +see they'll be on to us shortly with their mitrailleuse and half a +battalion or so, enough to eat us up. We've got to get word back _quick_ +to the General for reinforcements, or the game's up." + +"I'll go, my lieutenant," said Jean Ferréol, an eager, dark Walloon, +springing to his feet. + +The lieutenant did not answer for some moments. He was examining through +his glasses a number of mounted figures, scattering over the plains to +the rear in groups of two and three. Yes, they were Uhlans +unquestionably. The line of combat was shifting eastward. + +"No," said he, "you can't go, Jean. You'd never get through. The Bosches +are all over the place back there now. And you wouldn't be in time, +even if you did get through. I'll send one of the dogs." + +He tore a leaf out of his note-book and began scribbling. + +"Better send both dogs, my lieutenant," said Jan Steen, the big, +broad-built Fleming who had charge of the machine-gun, unharnessing the +dogs as he spoke. "Leo's the cleverest, and he'll carry the message +right; but he won't have his heart in the job unless you let Dirck go +along with him. They're like twins. Moreover, the two together wouldn't +excite suspicion like one alone. One alone the Bosches would take for a +messenger dog, sure, but two racing over the grass might seem to be just +playing." + +"_Bon!_" said the young lieutenant. "Two strings to our bow." + +He hurriedly made a duplicate of his dispatch. The papers were folded +small and tied under the dogs' collars. Big Jan spoke a few words +crisply and decisively in Flemish to Leo, who watched his lips eagerly +and wagged his tail as if to show he understood. Then he spoke +similarly, but with more emphasis and reiteration, to Dirck, at the same +time waving his arm toward the distant group of roofs from which the +detachment had come. Dirck looked anxiously at him and whined, and then +glanced inquiringly at Leo, to see if _he_ understood what was required +of them. He was almost furiously willing, but not so quick to catch an +idea as his more lively yoke-fellow. Big Jan repeated his injunctions +yet again, with unhurried patience, while his leader fumed behind him. +Jan Steen knew well that with a dog, in such circumstances, one must be +patient though the skies fall. At last Dirck's grin widened, his tail +wagged violently, and his low whining gave way to a bark of elation. + +"He's got it," said Jan, with slow satisfaction. He waved his arm, and +the two dogs dashed off as if they had been shot out of a gun, keeping +close along the inner base of the dyke. + +"Dirck's got it," repeated Jan, with conviction, "and nothing will put +it out of his head till he's done the job." + + +II + +Side by side, racing wildly like children just let out from school, the +two dogs dashed off through the grass along the base of the dyke. Leo, +the lighter in build and in colour, and the more conspicuous by reason +of a white fore-leg, was also the lighter in spirits. Glad to be clear +of the harness and proud of his errand, he was so ebullient in his +gaiety that he could spare time to spring into the air now and again and +snap at a low-fluttering butterfly. The more phlegmatic Dirck, on the +other hand, was too busy keeping his errand fixed in his mind to waste +any interest on butterflies, though he was ready enough to gambol a bit +whenever his volatile comrade frolicked into collision with him. + +Soon--Leo leading, as usual--they quitted the dyke and started off +across the open meadows toward the hottest of the firing. A couple of +patrolling Uhlans, some distance off to the right, caught sight of +them, and a bullet whined complainingly just over their heads. But the +other Uhlan, the one who had not fired, rebuked his companion for +wasting ammunition. "Can't you see they're just a couple of puppies +larking round?" he asked scornfully. "Suppose you thought they were Red +Cross." + +"Thought they might be dispatch dogs, Herr Sergeant," answered the +trooper deprecatingly. + +"Well, they're not, blockhead," grunted the cocksure sergeant. And the +two rode on, heading diagonally toward the canal. + +The dogs, at the sound of the passing bullet, had crouched flat to the +ground. When the sound was not repeated, however, they sprang up and +continued their journey, Leo, excited but not terrified, more inclined +to frolic than ever, while Dirck, who by some obscure instinct had +realized that the shot was not a chance one, but a direct personal +attack, kept looking back and growling at the pair of Uhlans. + +But though Leo, the exuberant, gambolled as he ran, he ran swiftly, none +the less, so swiftly that plodding Dirck had some trouble to keep up +with him. Ten minutes more, and they ran into the zone of fire. Bullets +hummed waspishly over them, but, after a moment's hesitation, they raced +on, flattening themselves belly to earth. The German infantry were in +position, quite hidden from view, some six or seven hundred yards to the +right. They were firing at an equally invisible line of Belgians, who +were occupying a drainage ditch some three hundred yards to the left. +The two dogs had no way of knowing that the force on their left was a +friendly one, so they kept straight on beneath the crossfire. Had they +only known, their errand might have been quickly accomplished. + +A little farther on, the grass-land came to an end, and there was a +naked, sun-baked stubble-field to cross. As the two raced out over this +perilous open space, the battle deepened above them. The fire from the +Belgian side went high over the dogs' heads, seeking the far-off target +of the enemy's prostrate lines. But the German fire was sighted for too +close a range, and the bullets were falling short. Here and there one +struck with a vicious spat close to the runners' feet. Here and there a +small stone would fly into the air with a sudden inexplicable impulse, +or a bunch of stubble would hop up as if startled from its root-hold. A +ball just nicked the extreme tip or Dirck's tail, making him think a +hornet had stung him. With a surprised yelp, he turned and bit at his +supposed assailant. Realizing his mistake in a second, he drooped the +injured member sheepishly and tore on after Leo, who had by now got a +score of paces ahead. + +Next moment a shrapnel shell burst overhead with a shattering roar. Both +dogs cowered flat, shivering. There was a smart patter all about them, +and little spurts of dust, straw, and dry earth darted upwards. The +shrapnel shell was doubtless a mere stray, an ill-calculated shot +exploding far from its target. But to Leo it seemed a direct attack upon +himself. And well he knew what was the proper thing to do under such +circumstances. Partly by instruction, partly by natural sagacity, he had +assimilated the vital precept: "When the firing gets too hot, dig +yourself in." With his powerful fore-paws he attacked the stubble, +making the dry earth fly as if he were trying to dig out a badger. Dirck +watched him wonderingly for a moment or two, till a venomous swarm of +bullets just over his head seemed to let light in upon his +understanding. He fell to copying Leo with vehement enthusiasm. In a +brief space each dog had a burrow deep enough to shelter him. Dirck +promptly curled himself up in his, and fell to licking his wounded tail. +But Leo, burning to get on with his errand, kept bobbing up his head +every other second to see how the bullets were striking. + +Another shrapnel shell burst in the air, but farther away than the +first, and Leo marked where the little spurts of dust arose. They were +well behind him. The rifle bullets pinging overhead were higher now, as +the Germans were getting the range of the Belgian line. The coast +seemed clear enough. He scrambled from his hole and dashed onward down +the field, yelping for Dirck to follow. And Dirck was at his heels in +half a second. + +The tiny canal-side village which was the goal of these two devoted +messengers was by this time less than a mile away and straight ahead. +When they left it with the machine-gun that morning, it had seemed a +little haven of peace. Now the battle was raging all about it. The tall +church spire, which had risen serenely above its embosoming trees, had +vanished, blown off by a shell. A cottage was burning merrily. Those +harmless-looking puffs of cotton-wool were opening out plenteously above +the clustered roofs. But all these things made no difference to these +two four-footed dispatch-bearers who carried the destiny of the bridge +beneath their collars. They had been ordered to take their dispatches to +the village, and to the village they would go, whether it had become an +inferno or not. + +But now the spectacle of the two dogs racing desperately toward the +village under the storm of lead and shell had caught the attention of +both sides. There was no mistaking them now for frolicsome puppies. +There was no question, either, as to which side they belonged to. The +German bullets began to lash the ground like hail all about them. Leo, +true to his principles, stopped at a tiny depression and once more, with +feverish eagerness, began to dig himself in. The earth flew from his +desperate paws. In another minute he would have achieved something like +cover. But a German sharpshooter got the range of him exactly. A bullet +crashed through his sagacious brain, and he dropped, with his muzzle +between his legs, into his half-dug burrow. + +But Dirck, meanwhile, had for once refused to follow his leader's +example. His goal was too near. He saw the familiar uniforms. Above the +din he could detect the cries and calls of encouragement from his +people. Every faculty in his valiant and faithful being bent itself to +the accomplishment of his errand. The bullets raining about him +concerned him not at all. The crash of a shrapnel shell just over him +did not even make him cock an eye skyward. The shrapnel bullets raised +jets of dust before and behind him and on either side. But not one +touched him. He knew nothing of them. He only knew his lines were close +ahead, and he must reach them. + +The Belgians cheered and yelled, and poured in a concentrated fire on +that section of the enemy which was attacking the dog. For a few seconds +that small, insignificant, desperate four-footed shape drew upon itself +the undivided attention of several thousand men. It focussed the battle +for the moment. It was only a brindled dog, yet upon its fate hung +immense and unknown issues. Every one knew now that the devoted animal +was carrying a message. The Germans suddenly came to feel that to +prevent the delivery of that message would be like winning a battle. The +Belgians turned a battery from harrying a far-off squadron of horse to +shell the lines opposite, in defence of the little messenger. Men fell +by the score on both sides to decide that unexpected contest. + +[Illustration: He only knew his lines were close ahead, and he must +reach them.] + +And still Dirck raced on, heedless of it all. + +Then, within fifty yards of the goal, he fell. A bullet had smashed one +of his legs. He picked himself up again instantly and hobbled forward, +trailing the mangled limb. But the moment he fell, a score of riflemen +had leapt from their lines and dashed out to rescue him. Three dropped +on the way out. Half a dozen more fell on the way back. But Dirck, +whining and licking his rescuers' hands, was carried to shelter behind +the massive stone wall of the inn yard, where the Brigadier and his +officers were receiving and sending out dispatches. + +An aide drew the message from under Dirck's collar and handed it, with a +word of explanation, to the General. The latter read it, glanced at the +time on the dispatch and then at his watch, and gave hurried orders for +strong reinforcements to be rushed up to the old bridge. Then he looked +at Dirck, whose shattered leg was being dressed by an orderly. + +"That dog," he growled, "has been worth exactly three regiments to us. +He's saved the bridge and he's saved three regiments from being cut off. +See that he's well looked after, and cured as soon as possible. He's a +good soldier, and we'll want him again." + + + + +The Calling of the Lop-horned Bull + + +I + +The harvest moon hung globed and honey-coloured over the glassy +wilderness lake. In the unclouded radiance the strip of beach and the +sand-spit jutting out from it were like slabs of pure ivory between the +mirroring steel-blue of the water and the brocaded dark of the +richly-foliaged shore. + +Behind a screen of this rich foliage--great drooping leaves of water-ash +and maple--sat the figure of a man with his back against a tree, almost +indistinguishable in the confusion of velvety shadows. His rifle leaning +against the tree-trunk beside him, a long, trumpet roll of birch-bark in +his hands, he peered forth through the leaves upon the shining +stillness, while his ears listened so intently that every now and then +they would seem to catch the whisper of his own blood rushing through +his veins. But from the moonlit wilds came not a sound except, from +time to time, that vast, faint, whispering sigh, inaudible to all but +the finest ears, in which the ancient forest seems to breathe forth its +content when there is no wind to jar its dreams. + +Joe Peddler had settled himself in a comfortable position in his +hiding-place in order that he might not have to move. He was out to call +moose, and he knew the need of stillness. He knew how far and how +inexplicably the news of an intruder would travel through the wild; but +he knew also how quickly the wild forgets that news, if only the +intruder has craft enough to efface himself. If only he keeps quite +still for a time, the vigilant life of the wild seems to conclude that +he is dead, and goes once more about its furtive business. + +Presently Joe Peddler reached out for his rifle and laid it across his +knees. Then he raised the trumpet of birch-bark to his lips and uttered +through it the strange, hoarse cry of the cow-moose calling to her mate. +It was a harsh note and discordant, a sort of long-drawn, bleating +bellow; yet there was a magic in its uncouth appeal which made it seem +the one appropriate voice of those rude but moon-enchanted wilds. + +Joe Peddler was such an expert with the birch-bark horn that his +performance with it could deceive not only the bull, but also the wary +cow, or a cow-stalking bear, or, at times, even an experienced and +discriminating fellow-woodsman. He would call twice or thrice, and stop +and listen for several minutes, confident that on such a glamorous night +as this he would not have long to wait for a response to his lying call. + +And he had not. When the bull-moose comes to the call of the cow, he +comes sometimes noisily and challengingly, with a crashing of underbrush +and a defiant thrashing of his great antlers upon branch and tree as he +pounds through them. At other times he comes as softly as the flight of +an owl. + +Peddler looked out upon the empty whiteness of the beach. He dropped his +eyes for a second to the velvet shadows beside him, where a wood-mouse, +blundering almost upon his outstretched leg, had fled with a tiny squeak +of terror. When he looked out again, there in the centre of the beach, +black and huge against the pallid radiance, towered a moose bull, with +his great overhanging muzzle uplifted as he peered about him in search +of the utterer of that call. + +The great bull had a noble pair of antlers, a head for any hunter to be +proud of, but Joe Peddler never raised his rifle. Instead of rejoicing +at this response to his deceitful lure, a frown of impatience crossed +his face. The strict New Brunswick game laws allowed but one bull in a +season to fall to the rifle of any one hunter. Joe Peddler was in search +of one particular bull. He had no use for the great beast towering so +arrogantly before him, and nothing was further from his thoughts than to +put a bullet into that wide-antlered head. + +[Illustration: Black and huge against the pallid radiance towered a +moose bull.] + +The bull was plainly puzzled at finding no cow upon the beach to greet +him, after all those calls. Presently he grew angry, perhaps thinking +that a rival had reached the scene ahead of him. He fell to pawing the +sand with one great, clacking hoof, grunting and snorting so loudly that +any rival within half a mile of the spot would have heard him and +hastened to accept the challenge. Then he strode up to the nearest bush +and began thrashing at it viciously with his antlers. + +The disappointed animal now had his back toward the thicket wherein +Peddler lay hidden. Yielding to his humour, the woodsman once more +lifted the birch-bark tube to his lips, with a sly grin, and gave +another call. + +He was hardly prepared for the effect. The bull wheeled like a flash, +and instantly, with not a half second's hesitation, came charging upon +the thicket at full run. + +The situation was an awkward one, and Peddler cursed himself for a +blundering idiot. He sprang noiselessly to his feet and raised his +rifle. But first he would try an experiment, in the hope of saving the +beast from his bullet. + +"You git out o' that!" he ordered very sharply and clearly. "_Git_, I +tell ye!" + +The bull stopped so abruptly that his hooves ploughed up the sand. +Decidedly there was something very strange about that thicket. First it +gave forth the call of his mate. Then it spoke to him with the voice of +a man. And there was something in that voice that chilled him. While one +might, perhaps, count ten, he stood there motionless, staring at the +inexplicable mass of foliage. The arrogant light in his eyes flickered +down into fear. And then, his heart crumbling with panic, he leapt aside +suddenly with a mighty spring and went crashing off through the woods as +if all the fiends were clawing at his tail. + +Peddler chuckled, stretched himself, and settled down to try his luck +again. For another couple of hours he kept it up patiently, calling at +intervals, and throwing his utmost art into the modulations of the +raucous tube. But never a reply could he charm forth from the moonlit +solitudes. At last he grew intolerably sleepy. + +"Guess old lop-horn must be off on some other beat to-night," he +muttered, getting to his feet with a mighty yawn. "It's me fer me +bunk." And with the rifle under one arm, the birch-bark tube under the +other, he strode off down the shining beach to the alder-fringed inlet +where his canoe was hidden. + +As he paddled swiftly through the moonlight down toward the lower end of +the lake, where he had his camp on a high, dry knoll beside the outlet, +Peddler mused upon the object of his quest. It was no ordinary moose, +however noble of antler, that had brought him out here to the remote and +all but unknown tangle of lakes and swamps which formed the source of +the north fork of the Ottanoonsis. This bull, according to the stories +of two Indian trappers, was of a size quite unprecedented in the annals +of the modern moose; and Peddler, who had seen its mighty hoof-prints in +the mud beside the outlet, was quite ready to credit the tale. They were +like the tracks of a prehistoric monster. But it was not for the stature +of him that Peddler was hunting the giant bull. According to the story +of the Indians, the beast's antlers were like those of no other +bull-moose ever seen. The right antler was colossal in its reach and +spread, a foot or more, at least, beyond the record, but quite normal in +its shape. The left, on the contrary, was not only dwarfed to less than +half the normal size, but was so fantastically deformed as to grow +downwards instead of upwards. Of a head such as this, Joe Peddler was +determined to possess himself before some invading sportsman from +England or the States should forestall him. + +Arriving at the outlet of the lake, he pulled up the canoe at a natural +grassy landing-place below his camp, and pushed his way some hundred +yards or so along the shore through the bushes to a spring which he had +discovered that morning. Your woodsman will go far out of his way to +drink at a cold spring, having a distaste for the rather vapid water of +the lakes and streams. He threw himself flat upon the stony brink and +reached down his thirsty lips. + +But just as he swallowed the first delicious gulp of coolness, there +came a sudden huge crashing in the brushwood behind him. In one breath +he was on his feet. In the next he had cleared the pool in a leap, and +was fleeing madly for the nearest tree, with a moose that looked as big +as an elephant at his heels. + +The nearest tree, a young birch, was not as big as he could have wished, +but he was not taking time just then to pick and choose. He whirled +himself round the trunk, sprang to the first branch, swung up, and +scrambled desperately to gain a safe height. He gained it, but literally +by no more than a hair's breadth. As the black monster reached the tree, +it checked itself abruptly, and in almost the same instant lifted its +right fore-hoof high above its head and struck like a flash at Peddler's +foot just disappearing over a branch. It missed the foot itself, but it +shaved the stout cowhide larrigan that covered the foot, slicing it as +if with a knife. Peddler drew himself farther up and then looked down +upon his assailant with interest. + +"I guess I've found ye all right, old lop-horn," he drawled, and spat +downward, not scornfully, but contemplatively, as if in recognition, +upon that strangely stunted and deformed left antler. "But gee! Them +Injuns never said nothin' about yer bein' so black an' so almighty spry. +I wisht, now, ye'd kindly let me go back to the canoe an' git me gun!" + +But any such quixotic courtesy seemed far from the giant's intention. As +soon as he realized that his foe was beyond the reach of striking hoof +or thrusting antler, he set himself, in the pride of his strength and +weight, to the task of pushing the tree over. Treating it as if it were +a mere sapling, he reared himself against it, straddling it with his +fore-legs, and thrust at it furiously in the effort to ride it down. As +the slim young trunk shook and swayed beneath the passion of the +onslaught, Peddler clung to his perch with both arms and devoutly wished +that he had had time to choose a sturdier refuge. + +For perhaps five minutes the giant pushed and battered furiously against +the tree, grunting like a locomotive and tearing up the earth in +furrows with his hinder hooves. At length, however, he seemed to +conclude that this particular tree was too strong for him. He backed off +a few yards and stood glaring up at Peddler among the branches, snorting +contemptuously and shaking his grotesquely misshapen antlers as if +daring his antagonist to come down. Peddler understood the challenge +just as clearly as if it had been expressed in plainest King's English. + +"Oh, yes," said he grimly, "I'll come down all right, bime-by. An' ye +ain't agoin' to like it one leetle bit when I do; now, mind, I'm tellin' +ye!" + +For perhaps a half-hour the giant bull continued to rave and grunt and +paw about the tree with a tireless vindictiveness which filled his +patient prisoner with admiration, and hardened him inexorably in his +resolve to possess himself of that unparalleled pair of antlers. At +last, however, the furious beast stopped short and stood motionless, +listening intently. Peddler wondered what he was listening to. But +presently his own ears also caught it--the faint and far-off call of a +cow-moose from the upper end of the lake. Forgetting his rage against +Peddler, the bull wheeled about with the agility of a cat and went +crashing off up the lake shore as fast as he could run. Stiff and +chilled--for the air of that crisp October night had a searching bite in +it--Peddler climbed down from his perch. First, being tenacious of +purpose, he hurried to the spring and finished his interrupted drink. +Then, returning to the canoe, he stood for a few moments in hesitation. +Should he follow up the trail at once? But it was already near morning, +and he was both dead-tired and famished. He believed that the bull, not +being in any alarm, would not journey far that night after meeting his +mate, but rather would seek some deep thicket for a few hours' sleep. He +picked up the rifle and strode off to his camp, resolved to fortify +himself well for a long trail on the morrow. + + +II + +Wise though Peddler was in the ways of the wild folk, he found himself +at fault in regard to this particular bull, whose habits seemed to be no +less unique than his stature and his antlers. Taking up the trail soon +after sunrise, he came in due time to the spot, near the head of the +lake, where the bull had joined the calling cow. From this point the +trail of the pair had struck straight back from the lake towards the +range of low hills which formed the watershed between the eastern and +south-westward flowing streams. About noon Peddler came to the place +where the cow, wearied out by so strenuous a pace, had lain down to +sleep in a thicket. The bull, however, driven by his vehement spirit, +had gone on without a pause. + +All day Peddler followed doggedly upon that unwavering trail. He crossed +the ridge, descended to the broken and desolate eastern levels, and +came, towards sunset, upon another wide and tranquil lake. Feeling sure +that his quarry, unaware of the pursuit, would linger somewhere about +this pleasant neighbourhood, Peddler found himself a mossy nest on the +cup-shaped top of a boulder and settled down for a couple of hours' +sleep. He little guessed that the bull, having doubled back on a +parallel with his own trail, had been following him stealthily for a +good half hour, not raging now, but consumed with curiosity. + +Just as the moon was rising over the low black skyline, jagged with +fir-tops, Peddler woke up. Creeping through the bushes, he betook +himself to a hiding-place which his quick eye had already marked down, +close to the beach, a roomy, flat ledge at the foot of a rock, with a +screen of young spruce before it. From behind another clump of spruce, +not fifty paces distant, the lop-horned bull, standing moveless as a +dead tree, watched him with an intense and inquiring interest. His fury +of the preceding night, and even the memory of it, seemed to have been +blotted from his mind. + +But when, a few minutes later, from that shadowy covert, where he could +just make out the crouching form of the man, the call of a cow breathed +forth upon the stillness, the great bull's eyes and nostrils opened wide +in amazement. What could a moose-cow be thinking about to remain so near +the dangerous neighbourhood of a man? But, no, his eyes assured him that +there was no cow in the man's hiding-place. Where, then, could she be? +He stared around anxiously. She was nowhere in sight. He sniffed the +windless night air. It bore no savour of her. He waved forward his +great, sensitive ears to listen. And again came the call, the voice, +undoubtedly, of the moose-cow. + +There could be no question about it this time. It came from the thicket. +Had there been any least note of fear in that call, the giant bull would +have rushed at once to the rescue of the unseen fair, concluding that +the man had her hidden. But now, the utterance was simply that of an +untroubled cow. Therefore, for the moment, the great bull was chiefly +puzzled. Keeping within the shadows, and moving as imperceptibly as if +he were himself but one of the blackest of them, he stole nearer and +nearer yet, till he could plainly see every detail within the man's +hiding-place. There was assuredly nothing there but rock and moss and +bush and the crouching figure of the man himself, staring forth upon the +moonlit beach and holding a curious roll of bark to his mouth. +Nevertheless, in that same moment there came again the hoarse cry of the +cow. + +It came indisputably from that crouching form of a man, from that roll +of bark at the man's mouth. + +This was a mystery, and the wiry black hair along the neck and shoulders +of the bull began to rise ominously. A slow, wondering rage awoke in his +heart. It was that element of wonder alone which for the moment +restrained him from rushing forward and trampling the mysterious cheat +beneath his hooves. A red spark kindled in his eyes. + +All undreaming of the dread watcher so close behind him, Peddler set his +lips to the lying tube of bark and gave his call again and yet again, +with all the persuasiveness of his backwoods art. He felt sure that his +efforts were convincing. They were, indeed, all of that. They were so +consummate a rendering of the cow-moose's voice that they perfectly +convinced a huge and hungry bear, which was at that moment creeping up +from the other side of the rock upon the unsuspecting hunter's +hiding-place. + +The bear knew that its only chance of capturing so swift and nimble a +quarry as the moose-cow lay in stealing upon her like a cat and taking +her by surprise in one instantaneous rush. He never doubted for a moment +that the cow was there behind the rock. When he was within a dozen feet +of those persuasive sounds, his crouched form suddenly rose up, +elongated itself like a dark and terrible jack-in-the-box, and launched +itself with a swish through the encircling branches. + +Before Peddler's wits had time fully to take in what was happening, his +trained instinct told him what to do. Half rising to his feet as he +snatched up his rifle, he swung about and fired from the hip at the +vague but monstrous shape which hung for an instant above him. The shot +went wide, for just as his finger pressed the trigger, a great black paw +smote the weapon from his grasp and hurled it off among the bushes. + +With a contortion that nearly dislocated his neck, Peddler hurled +himself frantically backwards and aside, and so just escaped the +pile-driver descent of the other paw. + +He escaped it for the instant; but in the effort he fell headlong, and +jammed himself in a crevice of the rock so awkwardly that he could not +at once extricate himself. He drew up his legs with an involuntary +shudder, and held his breath, expecting to feel the merciless claws rake +the flesh from his thighs. + +But nothing touched him; and the next moment there broke out an +astounding uproar behind him, a very pandemonium of roars and windy +gruntings, while the crashing of the bushes was as if the forest were +being subdued beneath a steam-roller. Consumed with amazement, he +wrenched himself from the crevice and glanced round. The sight that met +his eyes made him clamber hastily to the top of the rock, whence he +might look down from a more or less safe distance upon a duel of giants +such as he had never dared hope to witness. + +When the bear found that it was no cow-moose, but a man that he was +springing upon, he was so taken aback that, for a second or two, he +forbore to follow up his advantage. To those two seconds of hesitation +Joe Peddler owed his escape. + +Before the massive brute, now boiling with rage at having been so +deceived, had sufficiently made up his mind to fall upon that prostrate +figure in the crevice, something that seemed to him like a tornado of +hooves and antlers burst out of the bushes and fell upon him. The next +moment, with a long, red gash half-way down his flank, he was fighting +for his life. + +The gigantic moose had been just upon the verge of rushing in to silence +those incomprehensible and deceiving calls, when the towering form of +the bear burst upon his vision. Here at last was something to focus his +wrath. Already angry, but still dampened by bewilderment, his anger now +exploded into a very madness of rage. There was the ancient, inherited +feud between his tribe and all bears. As a youngster, he had more than +once escaped, as by a miracle, from the neck-breaking paw of a bear, had +more than once seen a young cow struck down and ripped to pieces. Now to +this deep-seated hate was added another incentive. His mind confused by +fury to protect his mate, he dimly felt that the mystery which had been +tormenting him was the fault of this particular bear. The man was +forgotten. A cow had been calling to him. She had disappeared. Here was +the bear. The bear had probably done away with the cow. The cow should +be terribly avenged. + +The bear--which was one of the biggest and fiercest of his kind in all +the northern counties--had fought moose, both bulls and cows, before. +But he had never before faced such an antagonist as this one, and that +first slashing blow from the bull's knife-edged fore-hoof had somewhat +flurried him. Sitting back poised, with his immense hindquarters +gathered under him, and his fore-paws uplifted, he parried the smashing +strokes of his assailant with the lightning dexterity of a trained +boxer. His strength of shoulder and forearm was so enormous that if he +could have got a stroke in flat, at right angles to the bone, he would +have shattered the bull's leg to splinters. But his parrying blows +struck glancingly, and did no more than rip the hair and hide. + +After a few minutes of whirlwind effort to batter down that impregnable +guard, the bull jumped back as nimbly, for all his bulk, as a young doe +startled from her drinking. His usual method of attack, except when +fighting a rival bull, was to depend upon his battering fore-hooves. But +now he changed his tactics. Lowering his head so that his vast right +antler stood out before him like a charge of bayonets, he launched +himself full upon his adversary. + +With all his weight and strength behind it, that charge was practically +irresistible, if fairly faced. But the bear was too wise to face it +fairly. He swung aside, clutched the lowered antler, and held fast, +striving to pull his enemy down. + +But the bull's strength and impetus were too great, and the bear was +himself thrown off his balance. Even then, however, he might probably +have recovered himself and once more established the battle upon even +terms. But he had not reckoned--he could not have been expected to +reckon--upon the unprecedented weapon of that little down-drooping left +antler. Not for nothing was the giant bull lop-horned. The dwarfed and +distorted antler hung down like a plough-share. And the bear attempted +no defence against it. Keen-spiked, it caught him in the belly and +ploughed upward. In a paroxysm he fell backwards. The bull, swinging his +hindquarters around without yielding his advantage for a second, lunged +forward with all his force, and the deadly little plough was driven home +to the bear's heart. + +Peddler, from his post on top of the rock, shouted and applauded in wild +excitement, and showered encomiums, no less profane than heartfelt, upon +the victorious bull. For a minute or two the bull paid no attention, +being engrossed in goring and trampling his victim in an effort to make +it look less like a bear than an ensanguined floor-rug. At last, as if +quite satisfied with his triumph, he lifted his gory head and eyed that +voluble figure on top of the rock. It looked harmless. + +"Gee, but ye kin fight!" said Peddler, glowing with admiration. "An' +ye've saved my scalp fer me this night, fer sartain. Guess I'll hev to +let ye keep them lop-sided horns o' yourn, after all!" + +The bull snorted at him scornfully and turned his head to take another +prod at the unresponsive remnants of his foe. Then, paying no further +heed to the man on the rock, and craving assuagement to the fiery smart +of his wounds, he strode down into the lake and swam straight out, in +the glitter of the moon-path, toward the black line of the farther +shore. + + + + +The Aigrette + + +The Girl, sitting before her dressing-table, looked at the fair +reflection in her great mirror and smiled happily. Those searching +lights at either side of the mirror could find no flaw in the tender +colouring of her face, in the luminous whiteness of neck and arm and +bosom. Her wide-set eyes, like the red bow of her mouth, were kind and +gay. The brightness of her high-coiffed hair was surmounted by a tuft of +straight egret plumes, as firm, pearl-white, and delicate as a filigree +of frost. + +The Girl had never looked so lovely. Never before had she worn anything +that so became her as that ethereal plume. She knew it; and the glances +of her maid, straying from her business with filmy garments and dainty +adornments, told her so. She threw a wisp of silken gossamer over her +arm and tripped eagerly down to the drawing-room. + +The Man came forward to meet her, his eyes paying without stint the +tribute she was craving of him. + +"There will be no one there to compare with you!" he said softly. "There +is no one anywhere to compare with you." + +"It _is_ becoming, isn't it?" she answered, glowing at his praise, and +nodding her bright head to indicate the ethereal white plume. + +"It is indeed," he asserted heartily. "But nothing could heighten your +beauty. You did not need it, and I'm rather afraid the bird did." He +kissed her finger-tips as he spoke, lest she should think he was being +critical. + +The Girl pouted a little, being very tenderhearted, and loth to be +reminded of unpleasant things. + +"I know what you mean," said she quickly, withdrawing her hand in +displeasure. "But the poor bird is dead, anyway; and if I didn't buy the +thing, some other woman would. And it's horrid of you to speak of it +now!" + +The Man laughed. + +"It can't make you more beautiful, but if it makes you happier, that's +quite enough for me," said he. "I'm afraid that a very little pleasure +for you is of more consequence in my eyes than a thousand million +birds." + +And upon this assurance the Girl forgave him. + + * * * * * + +The wide lagoon lay windless, shining like milky-blue glass under the +blaze of the southern sky. It was shallow, its surface broken here and +there with patches of tall gold-green reeds. Its shores seemed half +afloat, fringed as they were with gnarled, squat bushes growing directly +out of the water. This irregular bushy growth, with the green-shadowed +water beneath its branches, stretched back for several hundred yards +from the open lagoon to a dense wall of jungle, a banked mass of +violently green leafage starred with cream-white and crimson bloom. + +Not cream-white, but of a coldly pure silver-white, like new snow, some +two or three score long-necked, long-legged birds flapped angularly +between the milky blue of the water and the intense, vibrant blue of the +sky, or stood half-leg deep in the shallows, motionless, watching for +their prey. They looked like bits of a Japanese screen brought to life +and sown broadcast in this sun-steeped southern wilderness. High +overhead, a black speck against the azure, a hawk wheeled slowly in vast +spirals, staring down desirously upon the peaceful lagoon. That peace he +durst not invade, for he knew and feared the lightning strokes of the +long dagger-like beaks of the white egrets. + +In the top of one of the gnarled bushes at the edge of the open, right +over the water, was built a spacious but rickety-looking nest of dead +sticks. It was the most un-nestlike of nests, a mere crazy platform, +with no apparent qualifications as a home except the most perfect +ventilation. One might reasonably suppose that the first requirement in +the nest of a bird should be that it would hold eggs securely. But this +unsightly collection of sticks looked as if that was the last thing it +could be depended on to do. It was so loose and open that the eggs ought +to fall through into the water. It was so flat that any eggs which +dodged falling through should surely, according to all known laws of +Nature, be blown off by the first vigorous gust. Nevertheless, it was +clear that the rude structure had held eggs, and proved not unworthy of +its trust, for it was now occupied by four young egrets. + +They were grotesque and solemn babies, these nestlings, sitting up quite +motionless on their leg-joints and half-feathered rumps, with their long +legs thrust straight out before them over the sticks, their long beaks +resting contemplatively on their nearly naked breasts, their round, +bright, unwinking eyes staring out blankly upon their little world of +gold and blue. Scattered here and there over the sweep of fringing +bushes were a dozen or so more of these rickety platforms of sticks, +each with its solemn group of stilt-legged staring young, motionless as +statues interested in nothing upon earth save the quantity of fish or +frogs which their untiring parents could supply to their unassuageable +appetites. + +Above this outermost nest, with the four fledglings in it, hung for a +moment, hovering on wide wings, the great white mother egret, with a +shining orange fish in her beak. She dropped her long legs, as if +feeling for a foothold, and alighted on the edge of the crazy platform +so softly that not a stick protested. At her coming four long beaks were +lifted into the air, gaping hungrily and squawking with eagerness. All +four seemed equally ravenous. But the mother-bird knew well enough which +she had fed last, and which was most in need. She jammed the prize, with +what seemed scant ceremony, into the beak whose turn it was to get it. +The fish was thicker than the youngster's long thin neck, but it was +promptly swallowed head first. It went down slowly, with a succession of +spasms which looked agonizing, but were, in fact, ecstatic. + +Before flying off again to resume her quest of fish, the mother egret +remained for a few moments on the edge of the nest, to rest and preen +herself. Her snow-pure plumage shone in the sunlight like spun silver. +Her neck feathers were prolonged in fine drooping lines far down over +her breast. From the centre of her back, between the shoulders, grew a +bunch of long, exquisitely delicate plumes, as white and apparently as +fragile as the frost-flowers on a window. These were her festal +adornment, worn, by herself and her mate alike, only in the nesting +season. + +Having preened herself well, and shaken her long, snaky neck as if to +take the kinks out of it, she spread her shining wings and lifted +herself into the air. She rose, however, but a few inches, and then, +flapping and squawking wildly, she was dragged down again by some unseen +force. Her frantic struggles knocked off a corner of the nest, and swept +off one of the awkward nestlings, which fell kicking and sprawling +through the leafage and disappeared with a splash. A moment more and the +mother, for all her wild fight against the unseen fate, was drawn down +after him into the shadowed water. Then a little flat-bottomed boat, or +ducking-punt, with a man crouching in the bottom of it, came worming its +way through the narrow lane of water between the stems of the bushes. +The man seized her by the dangerous beak, jerked her into the punt, put +his knee upon her neck, detached the noose of a copper-wire snare from +her leg, drew a keen hunting-knife, and deftly sliced the snowy plumes +from the flesh of her back. + +Then he hurled her out into the open water, that she might not be in his +way while he rearranged the snare upon the edge of the nest in order to +catch her mate. + +Half stunned, and altogether bewildered by her agony, the mother egret +flapped blindly upon the top of the water, her snowy plumage crimsoned +with her life-blood. After a few moments she succeeded in getting into +the air. Flying heavily, and lurching as she went, she flew across the +lagoon, blundered in among the bushes, and fell with her legs in the +water, her twitching wings entangled in the branches. There, after a few +vain struggles, she lay still, dying slowly--very slowly--her beak half +open, but her eyes wide and undaunted. + +[Illustration: The mother egret flapped blindly upon the top of the +water.] + +Not long afterwards the male egret, who had been fishing far down the +lagoon, and knew nothing of what had happened, came back to the nest +with food. He, too, was caught in the fatal snare, dragged down, scalped +of his nuptial plumes as the red savage of old scalped his enemies, and +thrown away to die at his leisure. The law of that country forbade the +shooting of the egrets in the nesting season, when alone they wore the +plumes which women crave. The plume-hunter, therefore, felt that he was +evading the law successfully if he hacked the prize from the living bird +and released it while still alive and able to fly. If the bird died +agonizingly afterwards, who was going to swear that he was the slayer? + +Throughout the morning the like swift tragedy was enacted at one nest +after the other. The deadly punt slid murderously, silently, up and +down the hidden water-lanes among the bushes, and the man with the knife +did his work noiselessly, save for the threshing and splashing of his +victims. + +In the course of an hour, however, for all the marauder's stealth, the +whole herony was in a state of desperate fear. Half a dozen birds had +been snared, and the others, flying high overhead and staring down with +keen, terrified eyes, had detected the slaughterer in his hiding under +the branches. They had seen him, too, resetting his snares upon the +edges of the nests. And in spite of the fact that, after doing so, he +withdrew to some distance among the bushes--as far as the cords attached +to the snares would permit--they dreaded to approach their nests again. +But there were their younglings, solemn and hungry, quite +uncomprehending of the doom which hung over them, hoarsely and +trustingly petitioning to be fed. The parent birds could not long resist +those appeals. Love and tenderness triumphed over fear, even over the +clear view of mortal peril. One after another the great white birds came +back, trembling but devoted, to their nests. One after another, sooner +or later, got a foot into that implacable wire noose, was dragged down +beneath the bushes, and thrown out weltering in its blood. There was no +escaping a trap thus baited with the appeals of the young. And before +the lagoon had taken the first of the sunset colour, there was not one +adult egret in the whole herony which had not paid the bloody price of +its devotion. + +At last, when the lagoon lay like a sheet of burnished copper, the man +with the punt came out boldly from among the bushes and paddled off +toward the outlet with his bleeding trophies. As he vanished, three or +four birds, stronger and more tenacious of life than their fellows, came +flapping back to their nests, their backs and wings and thighs caked +with blood. Swaying as they perched upon the stick platforms, they +managed to feed the nestlings once more. Then, dogged in their devotion, +they flew off to continue their tasks. They never returned again, but +fell in the shallows where they stood trying to fish: and if the Fates +of the wilderness elected to be merciful, they were drowned quickly. + +All night, through the star-strewn summer dark, the orphaned nestlings +kept up their harshly plaintive cries of hunger and loneliness. A pair +of owls, hearing these cries, and guessing that all could not be right +with the egret colony, came winnowing up noiselessly and took toll of +the defenceless nests. After daybreak, the wheeling hawk dropped low to +investigate, then struck wherever he found the nestlings fattest and +most tempting. Toward noon, under the pitiless downpour of the unclouded +sun, the little ones wilted like cut grass, thirst and hunger stilling +their pitiful complaints. Long before night there was not a nestling +left alive on the whole lagoon. + + * * * * * + +The Girl, with snowy aigrette in her bright hair, her gloved fingers +resting on the Man's arm, stood upon the kerb outside the theatre, +waiting for a taxi. A light dogcart came by. The horse, sleek and +spirited and spoilt, was in wayward humour, and took it into its head to +give its driver trouble. The driver tried to soothe it, but it would not +be soothed. It began backing capriciously. The driver cut it smartly +with his light whip. + +"Oh," cried the Girl, "see how he's beating that poor horse! What a +brute!" + +"It's hurting the horse about as much," said the Man, "as if you struck +it with your fan! Moreover, the horse is behaving very badly, and must +be made to mind. It's endangering the whole traffic." + +The Girl flushed, bit her lip, and withdrew her hand from the Man's arm. +Just then the summoned taxi drew up at the kerb. The Girl stepped in. + +"What brutes men are!" she said. "Perhaps they can't help being cruel! +They have no intuition, so how can they understand?" + +The Man glanced at the aigrette, smiled discreetly, and said nothing. + + + + +The Cabin in the Flood + + +Stepping into the cabin, Long Jackson said: "If that there blame jam +don't break inside o' twenty-four hour, the hull valley's goin' to be +under water, an' I'll hev to be gittin' ye out o' this in the canoe. +I've just been uncoverin' her an' rozenin' her up, an' she's as good as +noo. That's a fine piece o' winter bark ye put on to her, Tom." + +From his bunk in the dark corner beyond the stove, Brannigan lifted his +shaggy face and peered wistfully out into the sunshine with sunken but +shining eyes. + +"I was _afeard_ there'd be a powerful freshet after this long spell o' +thaw atop of all that rain, Long, an' the snow layin' so deep in the +woods this winter. I wisht ye'd lug me over an' lay me by the door in +the sun fer a bit, Long, ef 'tain't too much trouble. That 'ere sun'll +put new life into me bones, in case the jam _don't_ break, an' we hev +to git a move on." + +After this long speech, Brannigan's head dropped wearily back on the +roll of blanket that served him as pillow. He had been desperately ill +with pneumonia, so ill that it had been impossible for Long Jackson to +go in to the Settlements for a doctor; and now, under Jackson's +assiduous nursing, he was just beginning the slow climb back to life. + +"Think 'twon't be too cold fer ye by the door?" queried Jackson +anxiously. + +"No, no!" protested Brannigan. "It's the sun I'm wantin', and the smell +o' spring stirrin' in the buds. That's the med'cine fer me now, Long." + +Long Jackson grumbled doubtfully, holding to the strange back-country +superstition that fresh air is dangerous for sick folk. But he yielded, +as he usually did where Brannigan was concerned. He spread blankets on +the floor by the door--a little to one side to avoid the draught--then +carried his partner's gaunt form over to them, and rolled him up like a +baby, with his head well propped on a pile of skins. Then he seated +himself on the chopping-log just outside the door, and proceeded to fill +his pipe with that moist, black plug tobacco, good alike for smoking and +for chewing, which is chiefly favoured by the backwoodsman. Brannigan's +face, drinking in the sunshine as a parched lawn drinks rain, freshened +and picked up a tinge of colour. His eyes, long weary of the four grey +walls of the cabin, roved eagerly the woods that fringed the tiny +clearing. + +"Anyways," said Long Jackson between puffs, as he sucked the damp +tobacco alight, "this here knoll of ourn's the highest bit o' country +fer ten miles round, and the cabin's on the highest p'int of it. 'Tain't +raly likely the water'll come clean over it, ef the jam _don't_ give +inside o' twenty-four hour. But it makes one feel kind o' safe havin' +the canoe ready." + +"Yes, it's the highest bit o' country fer miles round," murmured +Brannigan dreamily, soaking in the sun. "An' I'm thinkin' we ain't the +only ones as knows it, Long. Will ye look at them rabbits down yander? +Did ever ye see so many o' them together afore?" + +Jackson looked, and involuntarily laid his pipe down on the log beside +him to look again. The woods far down the slope--it was a slope so +gentle as to be hardly perceptible--were swarming with rabbits, hopping +and darting this way and that over the snow. For the snow still lingered +under the trees, though only a few patches of it, yellowing and +shrinking under the ardent sun, remained in the open of the clearing. + +After staring for some moments in silence, Jackson took up his pipe +again. + +"The water must be risin' mighty quick," said he. "Them rabbits are +gittin' sociable all of a sudden. They're comin' to pay ye a call, Tom, +this bein' yer fust day up." + +"We'll be havin' other callers besides rabbits, I'm thinkin'," said +Brannigan, the dreaminess in his voice and eyes giving way to a pleased +excitement. This was better than his bunk in the dark corner of the +cabin. "What's that, now, way down behind them yaller birch trunks?" he +added eagerly. "I guess it's a bear, Long." + +"It's two bear," corrected Jackson. "So long as it's jest rabbits, all +right, but we ain't entertainin' bears this mornin'. Grub's too scarce, +an' bears is hungry this time o' year. Gee! There's two more down by the +spring. Guess I'd better git the gun." + +"Wait a bit, Long," expostulated Brannigan. "They're so afeard o' the +water, they'll be harmless as the rabbits. No good shootin' 'em now, +when their pelts ain't worth the skinnin'. Let 'em be, an' see what +they'll do. They hain't got no place else to go to, to git out o' the +water." + +"Let 'em climb a tree!" grumbled Jackson. But he sat down again on his +log. "Ye're right, anyhow, Tom," he continued, after a moment's +consideration. "What's the good o' spilin' good skins by shootin' 'em +now? An' if they're not too skeered to death to know they're hungry, +they kin eat the rabbits. An', anyhow, the ca'tridges is pretty nigh +gone. Come along, Mr. Bear, an' bring yer wife an' all yer relations!" + +As if in response to this invitation, the bears all moved a little +nearer, whining uneasily and glancing back over their shoulders, and +close behind them could now be seen gleams of the swiftly up-creeping +flood, where the sunlight struck down upon it through the leafless +hardwood trees. But around to the left and the rear of the cabin the +trees were dense evergreens, spruce and fir, beneath whose shade the +flood came on unseen. + +As the worried bears approached, the belt of rabbits swarmed out along +the edges of the clearing, the hinder ranks pushing forward the +reluctant front ones. These, fearing the open and the human form sitting +before the cabin, tried to regain shelter by leaping back over the heads +of those who thrust them on. But far more than that unmoving human +figure they feared the whimpering bears and the silent, pursuing flood. +So in a very few minutes the rabbits were all in the open, hopping about +anxiously and waving their long ears, a few of the bolder ones even +coming up to within forty or fifty feet of the cabin to stare curiously +at Long Jackson on his log. + +Presently from behind the cabin, stepping daintily, with heads held high +and wide nostrils sniffing the air apprehensively, came two young does, +and stopped short, glancing back and forth from Jackson to the bears, +from the bears to Jackson. After a few seconds' hesitation, they seemed +to make up their minds that they liked Jackson better than the bears, +for they came a few steps nearer and looked timidly in at Brannigan. + +"This ain't North Fork Valley, Long. It's Barnum's Menagerie, that's +what it's gittin' to be!" remarked Brannigan, speaking softly, lest he +should alarm the does. + +"Ay, an' still they come!" said Jackson, pointing with his pipe down the +slope to the right. Brannigan lifted his head and craned his neck to see +who "they" were. + +They were a huge bull-moose, followed by three cows and a couple of +yearlings, who crowded close upon their leader's heels as they caught +sight of the bears. The great bull, though without antlers at this +season, haughtily ignored the bears, who, as he well knew, would have +small inclination to venture within reach of his battering hoofs. The +little herd had been swimming. With dripping flanks, they stalked up +through the trees and out into the clearing, the swarm of rabbits +parting before them like a wave. At sight of Jackson on his log, the +bull stopped and stood staring morosely. He was not afraid of bears, but +men were another matter. After a heavy pondering of the situation, he +led the way across the corner of the clearing, then down into the flood +again and off, heading for the uplands at the foot of the valley, some +five or six miles away. + +"He don't seem to like the looks o' ye, Long," murmured Brannigan. + +"No more'n I do his'n," answered Jackson. "But I guess he'd 'a' been +welcome to stop, seein' as we ain't standin' on ceremony, an' our cards +is out to everybody. Come one, come all! But, no, I bar Mr. and Mrs. +Skunk. Ye're a soft-hearted old eejut, Tom, an' never like to hurt +nobody's feelin's, but I do hope now ye didn't go an' send cards to Mr. +and Mrs. Skunk." + +Brannigan chuckled. He was feeling better and more like himself already. + +"I don't believe they'll be comin'," he answered, evading the point of +the invitation. "Like as not, they're cut off in their holes an' +drownded, 'less they've took to the trees in time. They ain't no great +travellers, ye know, Long." + +"I ain't puttin' on no mournin' fer 'em," grunted Jackson. "An' there's +another varmint ye hadn't no call to invite, Tom," he added, as the +rabbits again scattered in consternation, and a big lynx emerged from a +spruce thicket on which the flood was just beginning to encroach. The +lynx, too frightened at the rising water to give even one look at the +rabbits, glared about her with round, pale, savage eyes. As she caught +sight of Jackson, her fur fluffed up and she scrambled into the nearest +tree, where she crouched behind a branch. + +Brannigan spared but a glance for the terrified lynx, his interest being +largely absorbed in the two does, whose trustfulness had won his heart. +Just inside the cabin door, and within reach of his arm, was a shelf, +whereon stood a tin plate containing some cold buckwheat pancakes, or +flap-jacks, left over from breakfast. A couple of these he tossed to the +does. Gentle as was the action, the nervous beasts bounded backwards, +snorting with apprehension. In a few moments, however, as if coming to +realize that the movement of Brannigan's arm had not been a hostile one, +they came forward again hesitatingly, and at length began to sniff at +the pancakes. For some moments the sniffing was distinctly supercilious. +Then one of them ventured to nibble. Half a minute more, and both +flap-jacks had been greedily gobbled. Their immense, mild eyes plainly +asking for more of the novel provender, the pair stepped a little +closer. Brannigan reached for another cake, to divide between them. + +Long Jackson got up from his log, tapped the ashes from his pipe, and +came into the cabin. + +"I'll be leavin' ye to entertain the ladies, Tom," said he, "while I git +dinner." + + +II + +A cloud passing over the sun, the air grew sharply cold on the instant. +Long Jackson bundled Brannigan away from the door, and shut it +inexorably. But as Brannigan refused to be put back into his bunk, +Jackson arranged him an awkward sort of couch of benches and boxes by +the table, where he made his first "sitting-up" meal. After dinner, the +sun having come out again, he insisted upon the door being once more +thrown open, that he might drink in the medicine of the spring air and +have another look at his menagerie. + +"Holy Je-hoshaphat!" exclaimed Jackson, as the door swung back. "This +ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's a Noah's Ark, that's what +it be!" + +The two does, trembling with fright, were huddled against the wall of +the cabin, close beside the door, staring at an immense and gaunt-framed +bear, which was sitting up on its haunches on Jackson's chopping-block. +More than half the clearing was under water. Five more bears sat near +the chopping-block, eyeing the water fearfully and whimpering like +puppies. Quite near them, and letting his shrewd eyes survey the whole +scene with an air of lofty indifference, sat a red fox, his fur +bedraggled as if from a long and hard swim. In two compact masses, on +either side of the bears and the fox, and as far away from them as they +could get, huddled the rabbits, their eyes fairly popping from their +heads. Further away, standing hock-deep in the water, were half a dozen +more red deer, afraid to come any closer to the bears. In the branches +of the one tree--a spreading rock-maple--which had been left standing +near the cabin, crouched a lynx and a wild-cat, as far apart as +possible, and eyeing each other jealously. + +One of the bears, restless in his anxiety, shifted his position and came +a little nearer to the cabin. The two does, snorting at his approach, +backed abruptly into the doorway, jamming Jackson against the doorpost. + +"Oh, don't mind me, ladies!" said Jackson, with elaborate sarcasm. "Come +right along in an' set down!" + +Whereupon the frightened animals, flying in the face of that tradition +of the wild creatures which teaches them to dread anything like a +_cul-de-sac_, took him at his word. Stamping their delicate hoofs in a +sort of timorous defiance to the bears, and ignoring both Jackson and +Brannigan completely, they backed into the rear of the cabin, stared +about the place curiously, and at length fell to nibbling the hay which +formed the bedding of the bunks. + +"Did ever ye see the likes o' that for nerve?" demanded Jackson. + +[Illustration: "This ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's a +Noah's Ark, that's what it be!"] + +"They've got sense, them two," said Brannigan. "They know who'll stand +up fer 'em if them bears begin to git ugly." + +"But we don't want the whole kit an' calabash pilin' in on us," said +Jackson with decision. "An' we don't want to shet the door and not be +able to see what's goin' on, neether. Guess I'd better fix up a kind o' +barricade, so's I kin hold the pass in case of them there fee-rocious +rabbits undertakin' to rush us." + +With a bench and some boxes, he built a waist-high barrier across the +doorway, and then he arranged for Brannigan a couch on the table, so +that the invalid could look out comfortably over the barrier. + +"Reserved seat in Noah's Ark for ye, Tom," said he. + +"Hadn't ye better be fetchin' the canoe round to the front, where ye kin +keep an eye onto it?" suggested Brannigan. + +"By Jing, yes!" agreed Jackson. "If one of them slick old bears 'd take +a notion to h'ist it into the water an' make off in it, I guess we'd be +in the porridge." + +He hitched his long legs over the barrier and stalked out coolly among +the beasts. + +The wild-cat and the lynx in the branches overhead laid back their ears +and showed their teeth in vicious snarls; and the rabbits huddled so +close together that the two packs of them heaved convulsively as each +strove to get behind or underneath his neighbours. The bears sullenly +drew away to the water's edge, and the huge fellow perched on the +chopping-block jumped down nimbly from his perch and joined the others +with a protesting _woof_. The fox stood his ground and kept up his air +of indifference, his native shrewdness telling him that the man was +paying no heed to him whatever. The deer also did not seem greatly +disturbed by Jackson's appearance, merely waving their big ears and +staring interrogatively. Jackson picked up the canoe and turned it +bottom side up across the doorway. Then he stepped indoors again. + +About the middle of the afternoon it became evident that the water had +stopped rising. It had apparently found an overflow somehow, and there +was no longer any risk of the cabin being swept away. Tired with the +excitement, Brannigan fell asleep. And Jackson, with the backwoodsman's +infinite capacity for doing nothing, when there is nothing to do, sat +beside his barricade for hour after hour and smoked. And for hour after +hour nothing happened. When night fell, he shut the door and secured it +with special care. + +Throughout the night it rained heavily, under a lashing wind which drove +the rain in sheets against the rear of the cabin; but soon after dawn +the sun came out again and shone with eager warmth. Brannigan awoke so +much better that he was able to sit up and help himself to the doorway +instead of being carried. The two does, thoroughly at home in the cabin, +swallowed the cold pancakes, and kept close to Jackson's elbow, begging +for more. + +When the door was opened, it was seen that the animals had all been +driven round to the front of the cabin for shelter. The space under the +upturned canoe was packed with rabbits. But the spirit of the bigger +animals, with the exception of the deer, was now changed. + +Since the rise of the flood had come to a halt--for the water was at the +same mark as on the afternoon of the previous day--the predatory animals +had begun to forget their fear of it and to remember that they were +hungry. The truce of terror was wearing very thin. The fox, indeed, as +Jackson's alert eyes presently perceived, had already broken it. At the +very edge of the water, as far away as possible from the cabin and the +bears, he was sitting up demurely on his haunches and licking his chaps. +But a tell-tale heap of bones and blood-stained fur gave him away. In +the darkness he had stolen up to the rabbits, nipped one noiselessly by +the neck, and carried it off without any of its fellows being any the +wiser. He could afford to wait with equanimity for the flood to go down. + +The lynx had come down out of her tree and was crouching at the foot of +it, eyeing first the bears and then the rabbits. She turned her +tameless, moon-pale eyes upon Jackson in the doorway, and bared her +teeth in a soundless snarl. Jackson, wondering what she was up to, kept +perfectly still. The next moment she darted forward, belly to earth, and +pounced upon the nearest rabbit. The victim screamed amazingly loud, and +the packed mass of its companions seemed to boil as they trampled each +other underfoot. Growling harshly, the lynx sprang back to the tree with +her prey, ran up the trunk with it, and crouched in a crotch to make her +meal, keeping a malignant and jealous eye upon the wild-cat on her +neighbouring branch. + +As if fired by this example, one of the bears made a rush upon the +luckless rabbits. He struck down two with a deft stroke of his paw, +dashed them to one side to remove them from the too close proximity of +Jackson, and lay down comfortably to devour them. + +At this second attack, the unfortunate rabbits seemed to wake up to the +necessity of doing something radical. Two or three of those nearest the +cabin made a sudden dart for the door. They jumped upon the upturned +canoe, stared fearfully for an instant at Jackson, then leapt past him +over the barrier and took refuge in the farthest corner of the cabin, +under the bunk. Jackson, according to his prearranged plan, had made an +effort to stop them, but it was a half-hearted effort, and he shook his +head at Brannigan with a deprecating grin. + +"_'Tain't_ exackly healthy for the blame little scuts, out there with +the bear an' the wild-cats," said he apologetically. Jackson was quite +ready to shoot rabbits, of course, when they were needed for stew; but +his soft, inconsistent heart had been moved at seeing the helpless +things mangled by the lynx and the bear. Perfect consistency, after all, +would be an unpleasant thing to live with in this excellent but +paradoxical world. + +The words were hardly out of Jackson's mouth when the rest of the bears +came stalking up, great, black, menacing forms, to levy toll upon the +rabbits. Instantly the frantic little animals began pouring in a +tumultuous stream over the canoe and the barrier and into the cabin. +Seeing their dinners thus unexpectedly disappearing, the bears made a +rush forward. + +Jackson, fearing lest they should charge straight into the cabin, sprang +for his gun, and was back in the doorway again in a flash, carelessly +thrusting aside with his feet the incoming flood of furry, hopping +figures, but making no effort to keep it out. + +The bears, reaching the packed and struggling rear rank of the fugitives +before it could dissolve and gain the refuge, captured each a victim, +and drew back again hastily with their prizes, still apprehensive of the +silent grey figure of Jackson in the doorway. And in two minutes more +all the rabbits were inside the cabin, covering the floor and struggling +with each other to keep from being pushed too close to the hot stove. +The two does, resenting the invasion, snorted angrily and struck at them +with their sharp, agile hoofs, killing several before the rest learned +to keep out of the way. One enterprising little animal sprang into the +lower bunk, and was straightway followed by the nearest of his fellows, +till the bunk was filled to overflowing. + +"How'll ye like it, sleepin' along o' that bunch o' bed-fellers, Tom?" +inquired Jackson derisively. + +"Ye'll sleep with 'em yourself, Long," retorted Brannigan from his place +on the table. "_I_ didn't let 'em in. They're _your_ visitors. Me bein' +an invalid, I'm goin' to take the top bunk!" + +Long Jackson scratched his head. + +"What's botherin' me," said he, grown suddenly serious, "is them bears. +If _they_ take it into their heads to come in an' board along of us, I'm +goin' to hev a job to stop 'em. I've only four ca'tridge left, an' +ther's six bear. They've et ther rabbits, an' what's one small rabbit to +a _rale_ hungry bear? Here's the biggest an' hungriest comin' now! +_Scat!_" he yelled fiercely. "Scat! You----!" And he added a string of +backwoods objurgation that this modest page would never consent to +record. + +Apparently abashed at this reception, the bear backed away hastily and +glanced around at the landscape as if he had had no least thought of +intruding. + +Brannigan laughed as he had not laughed for weeks. + +"That langwidge o' yourn's better'n any gun, Long!" said he. + +"Guess it's saved us one ca'tridge, that time!" he acknowledged +modestly. "But I'm thinkin' it won't keep 'em off when they get a mite +hungrier. Ye kin curse like an Androscoggin lumber jack, but y'ain't +goin' to frizzle a single hair on a bear's hide. Now, here they come +agin! I'd better shoot one, an' mebbe that'll discourage 'em. Anyhow, +they kin eat the one I shoot, and that'll keep 'em from hankerin' so +after rabbits." + +He raised his gun, but Brannigan stopped him sharply. + +"Jest _shet the door_, ye old eejut!" he cried. "Ye know as well as I do +that ef ye git a bear rale mad, an' he thinks he's cornered, there's +goin' to be trouble. Jest shet the door, that's all!" + +"_To_ be sure! Why didn't I think o' that afore?" agreed Jackson, +kicking the boxes aside and slamming the heavy door without ceremony in +the face of the nearest bear, who had already lifted his fore-paws upon +the canoe and was peering in wistfully at the rabbits. + +With his feet in a foam of rabbits--the creatures seeming to have lost +all fear of him--Jackson sat down on a box and lit his pipe, while +Brannigan, leaning over from his couch on the table, tried to feed the +rabbits with biscuits. The rabbits would have none of it, but the two +does, greedy and jealous, came mincing forward at once to appropriate +the attention and the tit-bits. + +Presently the air grew unbearably hot and close, with the reek of the +crowding animals and the heat of the stove. After the fashion of the +backwoodsman, the men endured it till they were gasping. Then Jackson +went to the little window--which was not made to open--and prised out +the sash with the edge of his axe-blade. He filled his lungs with a deep +breath, drew back from the window, then sprang forward again and thrust +his head out for a better look. + +"_It's broke!_" he shouted. "The water's goin' down hand over fist!" + +"It'll save a lot o' trouble," said Brannigan, with a sigh of relief. + +By noon the water had disappeared, and the bears, the wild-cat, and the +fox had disappeared with it. After waiting another hour, that the hungry +beasts might be well out of the way, Jackson opened the door and began +to turn the rabbits out. At first they refused obstinately to go, so +that he had to seize them by the ears and throw them out. But presently +some sign seemed to go round among them to the effect that their enemies +were out of the way. Then they all began to make for the door, but quite +at their leisure, and soon were hopping off among the trees in every +direction. After them at last, went the two does, without so much as +once looking back. + +"Durned if the place don't look kind o' lonesome without 'em!" murmured +Brannigan. + +"Umph!" grunted Jackson. "It's easy seein' 'tain't you that's got to do +the cleanin' up after 'em. If ever ye go to hev another party like that, +Tom, I'm goin' to quit." + +The spring wind, mild and spicy from the spruce forests, breathed +through the cabin from the open door to the open window, and a chickadee +ran over his fine-drawn, bead-like refrain from the branches where the +lynx and wild-cat had been crouching. + + + + +The Brothers of the Yoke + + +Side by side, in the position in which they were accustomed to labour at +the yoke--Star on the off side, Buck on the nigh--they stood waiting in +the twilight beside the pasture bars. From the alder swamp behind the +pasture, coolly fragrant under the first of the dew-fall, came the +ethereal fluting of a hermit thrush, most tender and most poignant of +all bird songs. In the vault of the pale sky--pale violet washes of thin +colour over unfathomable deeps of palest green--a wide-swooping +night-hawk sounded at intervals its long, twanging note, like a stricken +harpstring. The dark spruce woods beyond the barn began to give off +their aromatic balsam-scent upon the evening air. A frog croaked from +somewhere under the alders where the hermit was at his fluting. One of +the oxen at last began to low softly and anxiously. It was long past +watering-time. Immediately his mate repeated the complaint, but on a +harsher, more insistent key. The watering trough, full to the brim, was +there in full view before them, just at the other side of the cabin. It +was an unheard-of thing that their master should not come at sundown to +lower the bars and let them drink their fill. + +They were a splendid pair, these two steers, and splendidly matched. +Both dark red, deep and massive in the shoulder, with short, straight +horns, and each with a clean white star in the centre of his broad +forehead, they were so exactly alike in all external particulars, that +the uninitiated eye would have been puzzled to distinguish them. Both +stood also with the patient, bowed necks of those who have toiled long +under the burden of the yoke. But to one at all acquainted with animals, +at all versed in the psychology of the animal mind, the difference +between the two was obvious. The temperaments that looked out from their +big, dark eyes were different. The very patience of their bowed heads +was different in expression. The patience of Star, the off ox, was an +accepting, contented patience. Curses, blows, the jabs of the ox-goad, +he took mildly, as a matter of course, and, being his master's +favourite, he got just as few of them as the exigencies of backwoods +ploughing and hauling would permit. But with Buck it was far otherwise. +In his eyes flickered always the spark of a spirit unsubdued. He had a +side glance, surly yet swift, that put the observant on their guard. He +never accepted the goad without a snort of resentment, a threatening +shake of his short, sharp horns. And he had command of a lightning kick +which had taught discretion to more than one worrying cur. Yet he was +valued, even while distrusted, by his owner, because he was intelligent, +well-trained, and a glutton for work, both quicker than his docile +yoke-fellow and more untiring. + +Between the two great red steers there was that close attachment which +has been so often observed between animals long accustomed to working in +the same harness. They become a habit to each other, and seem, +therefore, essential to each other's peace of mind. But on the part of +Buck it was something more than this. Ill-tempered and instinctively +hostile toward every one else, man or beast, he showed signs of an +active devotion to his tranquil yoke-fellow, and would sometimes spend +hours licking Star's neck while the latter went on chewing the cud in +complacent acceptance of the attention. + +The twilight gathered deeper about the lonely backwoods clearing. The +night-hawk, a soaring and swooping speck in the pallid spaces of the +sky, became invisible, though his strange note still twanged sonorously +from time to time. The hermit hushed his fluting in the alder thicket. +An owl hooted solemnly from somewhere back in the spruce woods. But +still the owner of the oxen did not come to lower the bars and give +admittance to the brimming trough. He was lying dead beside the brawling +trout-brook, a mile or so down the tote-road, his neck broken by a +flying branch from a tree which he had felled too carelessly. His dog +was standing over the sprawled body, whining and pawing at it in +distracted solicitude. + +To the two thirsty oxen the cool smell of the waiting trough was cruelly +tantalizing. To one of them it speedily became irresistible. Buck was +not, by instinct, any great respecter of bounds or barriers. He began +hooking impatiently at the bars, while Star gazed at him in placid +wonder. The bars were solid and well set, and Buck seemed to realize +almost at once that there was little to be done in that quarter. Feeling +for a weak spot, he worked his way along beyond them to the first panel +of the fence. It was the ordinary rough "snake" of the backwoods +clearing, a zigzag structure of rough poles, supported at the angles by +crossed stakes. Never very substantial, it had been broken and somewhat +carelessly mended at this particular point. The top rail lifted easily +under the thrust of Buck's aimlessly tossing horn. It fell down again at +once into its place in the crotch of the crossed stakes, and, in +falling, it struck the fumbling experimenter a sharp whack across the +nose. + +The hot-tempered steer, already irritated, flared up at once, and butted +heavily at the fence with his massive forehead. One of the cross-stakes, +already half-rotted through, broke at once, and the two top rails went +down with a crash. Following up this push, he threw his ponderous weight +against the remaining rails, now left unsupported, breasted them down +almost without an effort, and went crashing and triumphing through into +the yard. His mate, who would never himself have dreamed of such a +venture as breaking bounds, stared irresolutely for a few seconds, then +followed through the gap. And side by side the two slaked their thirst, +plunging their broad muzzles into the cool of the trough and lifting +them to blow the drops luxuriously from their nostrils. + +The impulse of Star was now to turn back into the familiar pasture, +according to custom. But Buck, on the other hand, was used to being +_driven_ back and that always more or less under protest. For the first +time in his memory, there was now no one to drive him back. He had a +strange, new sense of freedom, of restraint removed. He was accustomed +to seeing a light in the cabin window about this hour. But there was no +light. The whole place seemed empty with a new kind of emptiness. +Nothing was further from his fancy than to return to the pasture prison +which he had just broken out of. He stood with head uplifted, as if +already the galling memory of the yoke had slipped from off his neck. + +For a minute or two he stood sniffing with wide nostrils, drinking deep +the chill, keen-scented air. It was the same air as he had been +breathing on the other side of the pasture-bars, but it smelt very +different to him. Something there was in it which called him away +irresistibly into the dark, unfenced depths of the forest which +surrounded the clearing. He turned his great head and lowed coaxingly to +his partner, who was standing beside the gap in the pasture fence and +staring after him in placid question. Then he started off with a brisk +step down the shadowy, pale ribbon of the road. + +Star's natural impulse, after drinking, was to return to the familiar, +comfortable pasture; but not without his yoke-mate. The stronger impulse +ruled. With some reluctance and a good deal of bovine wonder, he swung +around and hastened after Buck. The latter waited for him; and side by +side, as if in yoke, though with less labouring steps, they turned off +the deeply rutted highway and moved silently down a mossed old wood road +into the glimmering dark of the forest. + +A sure instinct in Buck's feet was leading them straight away from the +Settlements, straight into the heart of the wilderness. After perhaps an +hour the wood-road led out of the thick forest across a little wild +meadow with a shallow brook babbling softly through it. Here the two +grazed for a time, almost belly deep in the thick-flowered grass, while +the bats flickered and zigzagged above them, and a couple of +whip-poor-wills answered each other monotonously from opposite ends of +the glade. Then they lay down side by side to chew the cud and to sleep, +surrounded by the pungent smell of the stalks of the wild parsnip which +their huge bulks had crushed down. + +They lay in a corner of the glade, close to the dense thickets that +formed the fringe of the woods. Unaccustomed to vigilance, neither their +eyes nor their ears were on the alert. A lynx crept up behind them, +within a dozen paces, glared at them vindictively with its pale, +malignant moon-eyes, and then ran up a tree to get a better look at +these mighty intruders upon his hunting-ground. His claws made a loud +rattling on the bark as he climbed, but neither of the oxen paid any +attention whatever to the sound. Of course, a lynx could not, under any +circumstances, be anything more than an object of mild curiosity to +them, but had it been a pair of hungry panthers, they would have been +equally unconscious and unwarned. They lay with their backs to the +forest, looking out across the open, chewing lazily, and from time to +time heaving windy breaths of deep content. Not a score of yards before +their noses a trailing weasel ran down and killed a hare. At the cry of +the victim Buck opened his half-closed eyes and gave a snort of +disapproval. But Star paid no attention whatever to the little tragedy. +All his faculties were engrossed upon his comfort and his cud. + +A little later a prowling fox came suddenly upon them. He was surprised +to find the pair so far from their pasture, where he had several times +observed them in the course of his wide wanderings. His shrewd mind +jumped to the idea that perhaps the settler, their master, was out with +them; and while he had no objection whatever to the oxen--stupid, +harmless hulks in his eyes--he had the most profound objection to their +master and his gun. He slipped back into cover, encircled the whole +glade stealthily till he picked up their trail, and satisfied himself +that they had come alone. Then he returned and sat down on his tail +deliberately in front of them, cocking his head to one side, as if +inviting them to explain their presence. + +Star returned his gaze with placid indifference, but Buck was annoyed. +In his eyes the fox was a little sharp-nosed dog with a bushy tail and +an exasperating smell. He hated all dogs, but especially little ones, +because they were so elusive when they yapped at his heels. He heaved +himself up with an angry snort, and charged upon the intruder. The fox, +without losing his dignity at all, seemed to drift easily out of reach, +to this side or that, till the ox grew tired of the futile chase. +Moreover, as the fox made no sound and no demonstration of +heel-snapping, Buck's anger presently faded out, and he returned to his +partner's side and lay down again. And the fox, his curiosity satisfied, +trotted away. + +A little later there came a stealthy crashing through the darkness of +the underbush in the rear. But the two oxen never turned their heads. To +them the ominous sound had no significance whatever. A few paces behind +them the crashing came to a sudden stop. A bear, lumbering down toward +the brook-side, to grub in the soft earth for edible roots, had caught +the sound of their breathing and chewing. He knew the sound, for he, +too, like the fox, had prowled about the pasture fence at night. As +noiselessly as a shadow he crept nearer, till he could make out the +contented pair. He knew they belonged to the man, and it made him uneasy +to see them there, so far from where they belonged. He sniffed the air +cautiously, to see if the man was with them. No, the man was not there, +that was soon obvious. He had no thought of attacking them; they were +much too formidable to be meddled with. But why were they there? The +circumstance was, therefore, dangerous. Perhaps the man was designing +some sort of trap for him. He drew back cautiously, and made off by the +way he had come. He had a wholesome respect for the man, and for all his +works and belongings. + +In the first, mysterious, glassy grey of dawn, when thin wisps of vapour +clung curling among the grass-tops, the two wanderers got up and fell to +grazing. Then Star, who was beginning to feel homesick for old pasture +fields, strayed away irresolutely toward the road for home. Buck, +however, would have none of it. He marched off toward the brook, +splashed through, and fell to pasturing again on the farther side. Star, +not enduring to be left alone, immediately joined him. + +That day the pair pressed onward, deeper and deeper into the wilds, Buck +ever eager on the unknown quest, Star ever reluctant, but persuaded. As +a matter of fact, had Star been resolute enough in his reluctance, had +he had the independence to lie down and refuse to go farther, he would +have gained the day, for Buck would never have forsaken him. But +initiative ruled inertia, as is usually the case, and Buck's adventuring +spirit had its way. + +It was a rugged land, but hospitable enough to the wanderers in this +affluent late June weather, through which Buck so confidently led the +way. The giant tangle of the forest was broken by frequent wild meadows, +and foaming streams, and lonely little granite-bordered lakes, and +stretches of sun-steeped barren, all bronze green with blueberry scrub. +There was plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and when the flies and the +heat grew troublesome, it was pleasant to wallow in the cold, +amber-brown pools. Even Star began to forget the home pasture, and +content himself with the freedom which he had never craved. + +How far and to what goal the urge in Buck's untamed heart would have +carried them before exhausting itself, there is no telling. But he had +challenged without knowledge the old, implacable sphinx of the +wilderness. And suddenly, to his undoing, the challenge was accepted. + +On the third day of their wanderings the pair came out upon a river too +deep and wide for even Buck's daring to attempt to cross. The banks were +steep--a succession of rocky bluffs, broken by deep lateral bayous, and +strips of interval meadows where brooks came in through a fringe of +reeds and alders. Buck turned northward, following the bank up stream, +sometimes close to the edge, sometimes a little way back, wheresoever +the easier path or the most tempting patches of pasturage might seem to +lead. He was searching always for some feasible crossing, for his +instinct led him always to get over any barrier. That his path toward +the west had been barred only confirmed him in his impulse to work +westward. + +Late that afternoon, as they burst out, through thick bushes, into a +little grassy glade, they surprised a bear-cub playing with a big yellow +fungus, which he boxed and cuffed about--carefully, so as not to break +his plaything--as a kitten boxes a ball. To Buck, of course, the playful +cub was only another dog, which might be expected to come yapping and +snapping at his heels. With an indignant snort he charged it. + +The cub, at that ominous sound, looked up in astonishment. But when he +saw the terrible red form dashing down upon him across the grass, he +gave a squeal of terror and fled for the shelter of the trees. He was +too young, however, for any great speed or agility, and he had none of +the dog's artfulness in dodging. Before he could gain cover he was +overtaken. Buck's massive front caught him on his haunches, smashing +him into the ground. He gave one agonized squall, and then the life was +crushed out of him. + +Amazed at this easy success--the first of the kind he had ever had--but +immensely proud of himself, the great red ox drew off and eyed his +victim for a second or two, his tail lashing his sides in angry triumph. +Then he fell to goring the small black body, and tossing it into the +air, and battering it again with his forehead as it came down. He was +taking deep vengeance for all the yelping curs which had worried and +eluded him in the past. + +In the midst of this congenial exercise he caught sight, out of the +corner of his eye, of a big black shape just hurling itself upon him. +The mother bear, a giant of her kind, had come to the cry of her little +one. + +Buck whirled with amazing nimbleness to meet the attack. He was in time +to escape the blow which would have cracked even his mighty neck, but +the long, steel-hard claws of his assailant fairly raked off one side of +his face, destroying one eye completely. At the same time, with a +shrill bellow, he lunged forward, driving a short, punishing horn deep +into the bear's chest and hurling her back upon her haunches. + +Dreadful as was his own injury, this fortunate thrust gave him the +advantage for the moment. But, being unlearned in battle, he did not +know enough to follow it up. He drew back to prepare for another charge, +and paused to stamp the ground, and bellow, and shake his horribly +wounded head. + +The mother, heedless of her own deep wound, turned to sniff, whimpering, +at the body of her cub. Seeing at once that it was quite dead, she +wheeled like a flash and hurled herself again upon the slayer. As she +wheeled she came upon Buck's blinded side. He lunged forward once again, +mad for the struggle. But this time, half blind as he was, he was easily +eluded, for the old bear was a skilled fighter. A monstrous weight +crashed down upon his neck, just behind the ears, and the bright green +world grew black before him. He stumbled heavily forward on knees and +muzzle, with a choking bellow. The bear struck again, and with the other +paw tore out his throat, falling upon him and mauling him with silent +fury as he rolled over upon his side. + +Star, meanwhile, being ever slow of wit and of purpose, had been +watching with startled eyes, unable to take in the situation, although a +strange heat was beginning to stretch his veins. But when he saw his +yoke-mate stumble forward on his muzzle, when he heard that choking +bellow of anguish, then the unaccustomed fire found its way up into his +brain. He saw red, and, with a nimbleness far beyond that of Buck at his +swiftest, he launched himself into the battle. + +[Illustration: He launched himself into the battle.] + +The bear, absorbed in the fulness of her vengeance, was taken absolutely +by surprise. It was as if a ton of rock had been hurled against her +flank, rolling her over and crushing her at the same time. In his rage +the great red ox seemed suddenly to develop an aptitude for the battle. +Twisting his head, he buried one horn deep in his adversary's belly, +where he ripped and tore with the all-destructive fury of a mad +rhinoceros. The bear's legs closed convulsively about his head and +shoulders, but in the next instant they relaxed again, falling away +loosely as that ploughing horn reached and pierced the heart. Then Star +drew back, and stood shaking his head to clear the blood out of his +eyes. + +For two days and nights Star stood over his yoke-mate's body, leaving +his post only for a few yards and for a few minutes, at long intervals, +to crop a mouthful of grass or to drink at that cold stream which ran +past the edge of the tragic glade. On the third day two woodsmen, +passing down the river in a canoe, were surprised to hear the lowing of +an ox in that desolate place, far from even the remotest settler's +cabin. The lowing was persistent and appealing. They went ashore and +investigated. + +At the scene which they came upon in the sunny little glade they stood +marvelling. After a time their shrewd conjectures, initiated as they +were in all the mysteries of the wild, arrived at a fairly accurate +interpretation of it all. + +"It was sure some scrap, anyhow," was the final conclusion of one +grizzled investigator; and "Wish't we could 'a' seen it," of the other. +Then, the big red ox, with blood caked over head and horns, being too +admired as well as too valuable to be left behind, they decided that one +of them should stop on shore and drive him, while the other followed +slowly in the canoe. + +At first Star refused stolidly to budge from his dead comrade's side. +But the woodsman was in winter a teamster, and what he did not know +about driving oxen was not worth knowing. He cut a long white stick like +an ox-goad, took his place at Star's side, gave him a firm prod in the +flank, and cried in a voice of authority: "Haw, Bright!" + +At the old command, although "Bright" was not the right name, Star +seemed once more to feel the familiar, and to him not unpleasant, +pressure of the yoke upon his neck. He swerved obediently to the left, +lowering his head and throwing his weight forward to start the +imaginary load, and moved away as his new master ordered. And gradually, +as he went, directed this way or that by the sharp commands of "Gee!" or +"Haw!" and the light reminder of the goad, his grief for his yoke-fellow +began to dull its edge. It was comforting to be once more controlled, to +be snatched back into servitude from a freedom which had proved so +strenuous and so terrible. + + + + +The Trailers + + +Young Stan Murray turned on his heel and went into the house for his +gun. His breast boiled with pity and indignation. The hired man, coming +down from the Upper Field, had just told him that two more of his sheep +had been killed by the bears. The sheep were of fine stock, only lately +introduced to the out-settlements, and they were Stan's special charge. +These two last made seven that the bears had taken within six weeks. +Stan Murray, with the robust confidence of his eighteen years, vowed +that the marauder, or marauders, should be brought to an accounting +without more ado, though it should take him a week to trail them down. +He stuffed some hardtack biscuits and a generous lump of cheese into his +pockets, saw that his Winchester repeater was duly charged, buckled on +his cartridge-belt, and started for the Upper Field. + +The hired man led him to the scene of the tragedy. The two victims--both +full-grown sheep--had been struck down close to the edge of the field, +within a dozen yards of each other. Nothing was left of them there but +their woolly skins and big sploshes of darkened blood on the stiff turf +of the pasture. The carcases had evidently been dragged or carried off +into the dark seclusion of the fir woods which bordered the top and +farther side of the field. It was now just after midday, and Stan and +the hired man agreed, after examination of all the signs, that the +killing must have taken place early the previous night. + +"It's a long ways from here them b'ar'll be by this time, I'm thinkin'," +said the hired man. Not a native of the backwoods, he was little versed +in wilderness lore. + +"Not at all," corrected Murray. "Like as not they're within a half mile +or so of us now. They wouldn't lug those fat sheep far. They'd just eat +what they wanted an' hide the rest in the bushes. And they'd come back +an' finish it up when they'd slept off the first feed. What would they +want to travel for, when they'd got such a dead easy thing right here?" + +"Um-m-m!" grunted the hired man grudgingly. "Mebbe you're right. But I'd +like to know who's been here afore us, an' _rolled up_ this here skin so +tidy-like? T'other skin's left all of a heap, mebbe because it's so torn +'tain't no good to nobody." + +The young woodsman laughed, for all his vexation of spirit. + +"Lot you know about bears, Tom," said he. "You see, there's been _two_ +bears here on this job, curse their dirty hides! One's a youngster, an' +don't know much about skinning a sheep. He's just clawed off the skin +any old way, an' made a mess of it, as you see. But the other's an old +hand, evidently, an' knows what he's about--an old she, likely, an' +perhaps mother of the young one. _She's_ known how to _peel_ off the +skin, rolling it up that way quite as a man might do. Now, Tom, you get +along back home, an' take the skins with you. I'm going after those two, +an' I'm not coming home till I've squared up with 'em over this here +deal." + +For half a mile or more back into the woods the trail of the marauders +was a plain one to follow. Then Murray found the remnants of the two +victims hidden in a mass of thick underbush, several yards apart. The +tracks of the two bears encircled the spot, a plain proclamation of +ownership to any other of the wild creatures which might be inclined to +trespass on that domain. And on the trunk of a tall spruce, standing +close beside the hiding-place, the initiated eyes of young Murray +detected another warning to intruders. The bark at a considerable height +was scored by the marks of mighty claws. The larger bear, after her +meal, had stretched herself like a cat, rearing herself and digging in +her claws against the trunk. And the great height of her reach was a +pointed announcement that her displeasure would be a perilous thing to +reckon with. As Stan Murray stood, estimating the stature of his foe, +his eyes began to sparkle. This would be a trophy worth winning, the +hide and head of such a bear. His wrath against the slayers of his sheep +died away into the emulous zest of the hunter. + +The bears, their hunger satisfied, had gone on straight back into the +wilderness, instead of hanging about the scene of their triumph or +crawling into a neighbouring thicket, as Murray had expected, to sleep +off their heavy feast. Murray thought he knew all about bears. As a +matter of fact, he did know a lot about them. What he did _not_ know was +that no one, however experienced and sympathetic an observer, ever does +achieve to know _all_ about them. The bear is at the opposite pole from +the sheep. He is an individualist. He does not care to do as his +neighbour does. He is ever ready to adapt his habits, as well as his +diet, to the varying of circumstance. He loves to depart from his rules +and confound the naturalists. When you think you've got him, he turns +out to be an old black stump, and laughs in his shaggy sleeve from some +other hidden post of observation. He makes all the other kindred of the +wild, except, perhaps, the shrewd fox, seem like foolish children beside +him. + +For a good hour Murray followed the trail of the two bears, at times +with some difficulty, as the forest gave way in places to breadths of +hard and stony barren, where the great pads left smaller trace. At last, +to his annoyance, in a patch of swamp, where the trail was very clear, +he realized that he was now following one bear only, and that the +smaller of the two. He cast assiduously from side to side, but in vain. +He harked back along the trail for several hundred yards, but he could +find no sign of the other bear, nor of where she had branched off. And +it was just that other that he wanted. However, he decided that as the +two were working together, he would probably find the second by keeping +on after the first, rather than by questing at large for a lost trail. +In any case, as he now reminded himself, it was not a trophy, but +vengeance for his slaughtered sheep that he was out for. + +The trail he had been following hitherto had been hours old. Now, of a +sudden, he noticed with a start that it had become amazingly fresh--so +fresh, indeed, that he felt he might come upon his quarry at any +instant. How did it happen that the trail had thus grown fresh all at +once? Decidedly puzzled, he halted abruptly and sat down upon a stump to +consider the problem. + +At last he came to the conclusion that, somewhere to his rear, the +quarry must have swerved off to one side or the other, either lain down +for a brief siesta, or made a wide detour, then circled back into the +old trail just a little way in advance of him. Again, it seemed, he had +overshot the important and revealing point of the trail. He was nettled, +disappointed in himself. His first impulse was to retrace his steps +minutely, and try to verify this conclusion. Then he reflected that, +after all, he had better content himself with the fact that he was now +close on the heels of the fugitive, and vengeance, perhaps, almost +within his grasp. To go back, for the mere sake of proving a theory, +would be to lose his advantage. Moreover, the afternoon was getting on. +He decided to push forward. + +But now he went warily, peering to this side and to that, and +scrutinizing every thicket, every stump and massive bole. He felt that +he had been too confident, and made too much noise in his going. It was +pretty certain that the quarry would by now be aware of the pursuit, and +cunningly _on_ guard. Twice he had been worsted in woodcraft. He was +determined that the marauders should not score off him a third time. + +For another half-hour he kept on, moving now as noiselessly as a mink, +and watchfully as a wood-mouse. Yet the trail went on as before, and he +could detect no sign that he was gaining on the elusive quarry. At last, +grown suddenly conscious of hunger, he sat down upon a mossy stone and +proceeded to munch his crackers and cheese. He was getting rather out of +conceit with himself, and the meal, hungry though he was, seemed +tasteless. + +As he sat there, gnawing discontentedly at his dry fare, he began to +feel conscious of being watched. The short hairs on the back of his neck +tingled and rose. He looked around sharply, but he could see nothing. +Very softly he rose to his feet. With minutest scrutiny his eyes +searched every object within view. The mingled shadows of the forest +were confusing, of course, but his trained eyes knew how to +differentiate them. Nevertheless, neither behind, nor before, nor on +either side could he make out any living thing, except a little +black-and-white woodpecker, which peered at him with unwinking curiosity +from a gnarled trunk a dozen feet away. From the woodpecker his glance +wandered upwards and interrogated the lower branches of the surrounding +trees. At last he made out the gleam of a pair of pale, malevolent eyes +glaring down upon him from a high branch. Then he made out the shadowy +shape, flattened close to the branch, of a large wild-cat. + +Murray disliked the whole tribe of the wild-cats, as voracious +destroyers of game and cunning depredators upon his poultry, and his +rifle went instantly to his shoulder. But he lowered it again with a +short laugh. He was not bothering just then with wild-cats. He cursed +himself softly as "getting nervous," and sat down again to resume his +meal, satisfied that the sensation at the back of his neck was now +explained. + +But he had not found the true explanation, by any means. In fact, he was +fooled yet again. + +From less than fifty yards ahead of him a little pair of red-rimmed +eyes, half angry and half curious, were watching his every movement. +Crouching behind two great trunks, his quarry was keeping him under wary +observation, ready to slip onward like a shadow, keeping to the shelter +of the thicket and bole and rock, the moment he should show the least +sign of taking up the trail again. + +Moreover, from a slightly greater distance to his rear, another pair of +little red-rimmed eyes, less curious and more angry, also held him under +observation. For an hour or more, at least, the older bear had been +trailing him in her turn with practised cunning. For all her immense +bulk, she had never betrayed herself by so much as the crackling of a +twig; and the unconscious, complacent hunter was being hunted with a +woodcraft far beyond his own. Whenever he stopped, or paused for the +least moment, she came to a stop herself as instantly as if worked by +the same nerve impulse, and stiffened into such stony immobility that +she seemed at once to melt into her surroundings, and became invisible +in the sense of being indistinguishable from them. Among mossy rocks she +seemed to become a rock, among stumps a stump, among thickets a portion +of the dark, shaggy undergrowth. + +Having finished his crackers and cheese, Murray got up, brushed the +crumbs from his jacket, flicked a hard flake of bark contemptuously at +the wild-cat--which darted farther up the tree with an angry growl--and +once more took up the trail. He was beginning now to wonder if he was +going to accomplish anything before the light should fail him, and he +hurried on at a swifter pace. A few hundred yards farther, to his +considerable gratification, the trail swept around in a wide curve +towards the right, and made back towards the Settlement. "Perhaps," he +thought, "that fool of a bear does not know, after all, that I am on his +track, and is going back for the remainder of his supper." + +Encouraged by this idea, he pushed on faster still. + +Then, some ten minutes later, he had reason to regret his haste. +Crossing a patch of soft, open ground, his attention was caught by the +fact that the footprints he was following had miraculously increased in +size. Examination proved that this was no illusion. And now, for the +first time, an unpleasant feeling crept over him. Apparently he was +being played with. The second bear, it was evident, had slipped in and +taken the place of the first, copying an old game of the hunted foxes. + +Murray suddenly felt himself alone and outwitted. If it had been earlier +in the day, he would not have cared; but now it would soon be night. He +had no great dread of bears, as a rule. He was willing to tackle +several of them at once, as long as he had his Winchester and a clear +chance to use it--but after dark he would be at a grievous disadvantage. +If the trail had still been leading away from home, he would probably +have turned back and planned for an early start again next morning. But +as his enemy was going in the right direction, he decided to follow on +as fast as possible, and see if he might not succeed in obtaining a +decision before dark. + +The trail was now almost insolently clear, and he followed it at a lope. +He gained no glimpse of the quarry even at this pace; but at least he +had the satisfaction of knowing, from the increased heaviness of the +footprints and the lengthening of the stride, that he was forcing his +adversary to make haste. Presently it appeared that this was displeasing +to the adversary. The trail went off to the left, at a sharp angle, and +made for a dense cedar swamp, which Murray had no desire to adventure +into at that late hour. He decided to give up the chase for the day and +keep straight for home. + +By this time Murray felt that his knowledge of bears was not quite so +profound as he had fancied it to be. Nevertheless, he was sure of one +thing. He was ready to gamble on it that, as soon as they realized he +had given up trailing them, they would turn and trail him. The idea was +more or less depressing to him in his present mood. He did not greatly +care, however, so long as it was fairly light. He did not think that his +adversaries would have the rashness to attack him even after dark, the +black bear having a very just appreciation of man's power. Still, there +was the chance, and it gave him something to think of. He made a hurried +estimate of the distance he had yet to go, and it was with a distinct +sense of relief he concluded that he would make the open fields before +the closing in of dark. + +The woods at this point were somewhat thick, an abundant second growth +of spruce and fir. Presently they fell away before him, revealing a few +acres of windy grass-land surrounding a deserted cabin. At the sight of +the space of open ground Murray was seized with a new idea. His face +brightened, his self-confidence returned. The bears had, so far, outdone +him thoroughly in woodcraft. Well, he would now show them that he was +their master in tactics. + +He ran staggeringly out into the field, and fell as if exhausted. He lay +for a few seconds, to make sure he was observed by his antagonists, then +picked himself up, raced on across the open as fast as he could, and +plunged into the thick woods on the opposite side. + +As soon as he was hidden, he turned and looked behind him. The growth of +bushes and rank herbage which fringed the other side of the clearing +whence he had come was waving and tossing with the movement of heavy +bodies. For a few moments he thought that his pursuers, grown bold with +his flight, would break forth from their concealment and follow across +the clearing. In that case he might count on bagging them both. + +But no, they were too wary still for that. Presently the tossing of the +bushes began to separate, and moved rapidly both to right and left along +the skirts of the clearing. A smile of triumph spread over Murray's +face. + +"My turn at last!" he muttered, and ran noiselessly, keeping well +hidden, down toward the left-hand corner of the field. He had an idea +that it was the bigger bear which was coming to meet him in that +direction, because the movement of the bushes had seemed the more +violent on that side. He was himself again fully now, the zest of the +hunter swallowing up all other emotions. + +Just at the corner of the field, behind a heap of stones half buried in +herbage, he hid himself, and lay motionless, with his rifle at his +shoulder and finger on the trigger. He could hear the bear coming, for +she was running more carelessly now, under the impression that the enemy +was in full flight. Dry branches snapped, green branches swished and +rustled, and occasionally his straining ears caught the sound of a heavy +but muffled footfall. + +She was almost upon him, however, before he could actually get a view of +her. She came out into a space between two clumps of young fir trees, +not twenty-five yards from his hiding-place, and was just passing him +diagonally, offering a perfect mark. Murray's finger closed, softly and +steadily, on the trigger. The heavy, soft-nosed bullet crashed through +her neck, and she dropped, collapsing on the instant into nothing more +than a heap of rusty-black fur. + +Immensely elated, his dear sheep avenged, and his standing as a hunter +vindicated at last, young Murray strode over and examined his splendid +prize. It was by far the biggest black bear he had ever seen. To the +other of the pair he gave not a thought; he knew that the crack of his +rifle would have cured it of any further curiosity it might have had +about himself. He took out his handkerchief, tied it to the end of a +stick, and stuck the stick into the ground beside the heap of fur, to +serve both as a mark and as a warning to possible trespassers. Then he +made haste home, to fetch a lantern and the hired man, for he would not +leave so splendid a skin all night to the mercies of fox and fisher and +weasel and other foragers of the dark. + + + + +Cock-Crow + + +He was a splendid bird, a thoroughbred "Black-breasted Red" game-cock, +his gorgeous plumage hard as mail, silken with perfect condition, and +glowing like a flame against the darkness of the spruce forest. His +snaky head--the comb and wattles had been trimmed close, after the mode +laid down for his aristocratic kind--was sharp and keen, like a living +spear-point. His eyes were fierce and piercing, ready ever to meet the +gaze of bird, or beast, or man himself, with the unwinking challenge of +their full, arrogant stare. + +Perched upon a stump a few yards from the railway line, he turned that +bold stare now, with an air of unperturbed superciliousness, upon the +wreck of the big freight-car from which he had just escaped. He had +escaped by a miracle, but little effect had that upon his bold and +confident spirit. The ramshackle, overladen freight train, labouring up +the too-steep gradient, had broken in two, thanks to a defective +coupler, near the top of the incline a mile and a half away. The rear +cars--heavy box-cars--had, of course, run back, gathering a terrific +momentum as they went. The rear brakeman, his brakes failing to hold, +had discreetly jumped before the speed became too great. At the foot of +the incline a sharp curve had proved too much for the runaways to +negotiate. With a screech of tortured metal they had jumped the track, +and gone crashing down the high embankment. One car, landing on a +granite boulder, had split apart like a cleft melon. The light crate in +which our game-cock, a pedigree bird, was being carried to a fancier in +the nearest town, some three score miles away, had survived by its very +lightness. But its door had been snapped open. The cock walked out +deliberately, uttered a long, low _krr-rr-ee_ of ironic comment upon the +disturbance, hopped delicately over the tangle of boxes and crates and +agricultural implements, and flew to the top of the nearest stump. +There he shook himself, his plumage being disarrayed, though his spirit +was not. He flapped his wings. Then, eyeing the wreckage keenly, he gave +a shrill, triumphant crow, which rang through the early morning +stillness of the forest like a challenge. He felt that the smashed car, +so lately his prison, was a foe which he had vanquished by his own +unaided prowess. His pride was not altogether unnatural. + +The place where he stood preening the red glory of his plumage was in +the very heart of the wilderness. The only human habitation within a +dozen miles in either direction was a section-man's shanty, guarding a +siding and a rusty water-tank. The woods--mostly spruce in that region, +with patches of birch and poplar--had been gone over by the lumbermen +some five years before, and still showed the ravages of the insatiable +axe. Their narrow "tote-roads," now deeply mossed and partly overgrown +by small scrub, traversed the lonely spaces in every direction. One of +these roads led straight back into the wilderness from the +railway--almost from the stump whereon the red cock had his perch. + +The cock had no particular liking for the neighbourhood of the accident, +and when his fierce, inquiring eye fell upon this road, he decided to +investigate, hoping it might lead him to some flock of his own kind, +over whom he would, as a matter of course, promptly establish his +domination. That there would be other cocks there, already in charge, +only added to his zest for the adventure. He was raising his wings to +hop down from his perch, when a wide-winged shadow passed over him, and +he checked himself, glancing upwards sharply. + +A foraging hawk had just flown overhead. The hawk had never before seen +a bird like the bright figure standing on the stump, and he paused in +his flight, hanging for a moment on motionless wing to scrutinise the +strange apparition. But he was hungry, and he considered himself more +than a match for anything in feathers except the eagle, the goshawk, and +the great horned owl. His hesitation was but for a second, and, with a +sudden mighty thrust of his wide wings, he swooped down upon this novel +victim. + +The big hawk was accustomed to seeing every quarry he stooped at cower +paralysed with terror or scurry for shelter in wild panic. But, to his +surprise, this infatuated bird on the stump stood awaiting him, with +wings half lifted, neck feathers raised in a defiant ruff, and one eye +cocked upwards warily. He was so surprised, in fact, that at a distance +of some dozen or fifteen feet he wavered and paused in his downward +rush. But it was surprise only, fear having small place in his wild, +marauding heart. In the next second he swooped again and struck +downwards at his quarry with savage, steel-hard talons. + +He struck but empty air. At exactly the right fraction of the instant +the cock had leapt upwards on his powerful wings, lightly as a +thistle-seed, but swift as if shot from a catapult. He passed straight +over his terrible assailant's back. In passing he struck downwards with +his spurs, which were nearly three inches long, straight, and tapered +almost to a needle-point. One of these deadly weapons found its mark, as +luck would have it, fair in the joint of the hawk's shoulder, putting +the wing clean out of action. + +The marauder turned completely over and fell in a wild flutter to the +ground, the cock, at the same time, alighting gracefully six or eight +feet away and wheeling like a flash to meet a second attack. The hawk, +recovering with splendid nerve from the amazing shock of his overthrow, +braced himself upright on his tail by the aid of the one sound wing--the +other wing trailing helplessly--and faced his strange adversary with +open beak and one clutching talon uplifted. + +The cock, fighting after the manner of his kind, rushed in to within a +couple of feet of his foe and there paused, balanced for the next stroke +or parry, legs slightly apart, wings lightly raised, neck feathers +ruffed straight out, beak lowered and presented like a rapier point. +Seeing that his opponent made no demonstration, but simply waited, +watching him with eyes as hard and bright and dauntless as his own, he +tried to provoke him to a second attack. With scornful insolence he +dropped his guard and pecked at a twig or a grass blade, jerking the +unconsidered morsel aside and presenting his point again with lightning +swiftness. + +The insult, however, was lost upon the hawk, who had no knowledge of the +cock's duelling code. He simply waited, motionless as the stump beside +him. + +[Illustration: Leaping upwards and striking downwards with his +destroying heels.] + +The cock, perceiving that taunt and insolence were wasted, now began to +circle warily toward the left, as if to take his opponent in the flank. +The hawk at once shifted front to face him. But this was the side of his +disabled wing. The sprawling member would not move, would not get out of +the way. In the effort to manage it, he partly lost his precarious +balance. The cock saw his advantage instantly. He dashed in like a +feathered and flaming thunderbolt, leaping upwards and striking +downwards with his destroying heels. The hawk was hurled over backwards, +with one spur through his throat, the other through his lungs. As he +fell he dragged his conqueror down with him, and one convulsive but +blindly-clutching talon ripped away a strip of flesh and feathers from +the victor's thigh. There was a moment's flapping, a few delicate red +feathers floated off upon the morning air, then the hawk lay quite +still, and the red cock, stepping haughtily off the body of his foe, +crowed long and shrill, three times, as if challenging any other +champions of the wilderness to come and dare a like fate. + +For a few minutes he stood waiting and listening for an answer to his +challenge. As no answer came, he turned, without deigning to glance at +his slain foe, and stalked off, stepping daintily, up the old wood-road +and into the depths of the forest. To the raw, red gash in his thigh he +paid no heed whatever. + +Having no inkling of the fact that the wilderness, silent and deserted +though it seemed, was full of hostile eyes and unknown perils, he took +no care at all for the secrecy of his going. Indeed, had he striven for +concealment, his brilliant colouring, so out of key with the forest +gloom, would have made it almost impossible. Nevertheless, his keenness +of sight and hearing, his practised and unsleeping vigilance as +protector of his flock, stood him in good stead, and made up for his +lack of wilderness lore. It was with an intense interest and curiosity, +rather than with any apprehension, that his bold eyes questioned +everything on either side of his path through the dark spruce woods. +Sometimes he would stop to peck the bright vermilion bunches of the +pigeon-berry, which here and there starred the hillocks beside the road. +But no matter how interesting he found the novel and delicious fare, his +vigilance never relaxed. It was, indeed, almost automatic. The idea +lurking in his subconscious processes was probably that he might at any +moment be seen by some doughty rival of his own kind, and challenged to +the great game of mortal combat. But whatever the object of his +watchfulness, it served him as well against the unknown as it could have +done against expected foes. + +Presently he came to a spot where an old, half-rotted stump had been +torn apart by a bear hunting for wood-ants. The raw earth about the +up-torn roots tempted the wanderer to scratch for grubs. Finding a fat +white morsel, much too dainty to be devoured alone, he stood over it and +began to call _kt-kt-kt_, _kt-kt-kt_, _kt-kt-kt_ in his most alluring +tones, hoping that some coy young hen would come stealing out of the +underbrush in response to his gallant invitation. There was no such +response; but as he peered about hopefully, he caught sight of a +sinister, reddish-yellow shape creeping towards him behind the shelter +of a withe-wood bush. He gulped down the fat grub, and stood warily +eyeing the approach of this new foe. + +It looked to him like a sharp-nosed, bushy-tailed yellow dog--a very +savage and active one. He was not afraid, but he knew himself no match +for a thoroughly ferocious dog of that size. This one, it was clear, had +evil designs upon him. He half crouched, with wings loosed and every +muscle tense for the spring. + +The next instant the fox pounced at him, darting through the green edges +of the withe-wood bush with most disconcerting suddenness. The cock +sprang into the air, but only just in time, for the fox, leaping up +nimbly at him with snapping jaws, captured a mouthful of glossy tail +feathers. The cock alighted on a branch overhead, some seven or eight +feet from the ground, whipped around, stretched his neck downwards, and +eyed his assailant with a glassy stare. "_Kr-rr-rr-eee?_" he murmured +softly, as if in sarcastic interrogation. The fox, exasperated at his +failure, and hating, above all beasts, to be made a fool of, glanced +around to see if there were any spectators. Then, with an air of +elaborate indifference, he pawed a feather from the corner of his mouth +and trotted away as if he had just remembered something. + +He had not gone above thirty yards or so, when the cock flew down again +to the exact spot where he had been scratching. He pretended to pick up +another grub, all the time keeping an eye on the retiring foe. He crowed +with studied insolence; but the fox, although that long and shrill +defiance must have seemed a startling novelty, gave no sign of having +heard it. The cock crowed again, with the same lack of result. He kept +on crowing until the fox was out of sight. Then he returned coolly to +his scratching. When he had satisfied his appetite for fat white grubs, +he flew up again to his safe perch and fell to pruning his feathers. +Five minutes later the fox reappeared, creeping up with infinite stealth +from quite another direction. The cock, however, detected his approach +at once, and proclaimed the fact with another mocking crow. Disgusted +and abashed, the fox turned in his tracks and crept away to stalk some +less sophisticated quarry. + +The wanderer, for all his fearlessness, was wise. He suspected that the +vicious yellow dog with the bushy tail might return yet again to the +charge. For a time, therefore, he sat on his perch, digesting his meal +and studying with keen, inquisitive eyes his strange surroundings. +After ten minutes or so of stillness and emptiness, the forest began to +come alive. He saw a pair of black-and-white woodpeckers running up and +down the trunk of a half-dead tree, and listened with tense interest to +their loud rat-tat-tattings. He watched the shy wood-mice come out from +their snug holes under the tree-roots, and play about with timorous +gaiety and light rustlings among the dead leaves. He scrutinised with +appraising care a big brown rabbit which came bounding in a leisurely +fashion down the tote-road and sat up on his hindquarters near the +stump, staring about with its mild, bulging eyes, and waving its long +ears this way and that, to question every minutest wilderness sound; and +he decided that the rabbit, for all its bulk and apparent vigour of +limb, would not be a dangerous opponent. In fact, he thought of hopping +down from his perch and putting the big innocent to flight, just to +compensate himself for having had to flee from the fox. + +But while he was meditating this venture, the rabbit went suddenly +leaping off at a tremendous pace, evidently in great alarm. A few +seconds later a slim little light-brownish creature, with short legs, +long, sinuous body, short, triangular head, and cruel eyes that glowed +like fire, came into view, following hard upon the rabbit's trail. It +was nothing like half the rabbit's size, but the interested watcher on +the branch overhead understood at once the rabbit's terror. He had never +seen a weasel before, but he knew that the sinuous little beast with the +eyes of death would be as dangerous almost as the fox. He noted that +here was another enemy to look out for--to be avoided, if possible, to +be fought with the utmost wariness if fighting should be forced upon +him. + +Not long after the weasel had vanished, the cock grew tired of waiting, +and restless to renew the quest for the flock on which his dreams were +set. He started by flying from tree to tree, still keeping along the +course of the tote-road. But after he had covered perhaps a half-mile in +this laborious fashion, he gave it up and hopped down again into the +road. Here he went now with new caution, but with the same old arrogance +of eye and bearing. He went quickly, however, for the gloom of the +spruce wood had grown oppressive to him, and he wanted open fields and +the unrestricted sun. + +He had not gone far when he caught sight of a curious-looking animal +advancing slowly down the path to meet him. It was nearly as big as the +rabbit, but low on the legs; and instead of leaping along, it crawled +with a certain heavy deliberation. Its colour was a dingy, greyish +black-and-white, and its short black head was crowned with what looked +like a heavy iron-grey pompadour brushed well back. The cock stood +still, eyeing its approach suspiciously. It did not look capable of any +very swift demonstration, but he was on his guard. + +When it had come within three or four yards of him, he said +"_Kr-rr-rr-eee!_" sharply, just to see what it would do, at the same +time lowering his snaky head and ruffing out his neck feathers in +challenge. The stranger seemed then to notice him for the first time, +and instantly, to the cock's vast surprise, it enlarged itself to fully +twice its previous size. Its fur, which was now seen to be quills rather +than fur, stood up straight on end all over its head and body, and the +quills were two or three inches in length. At this amazing spectacle the +cock involuntarily backed away several paces. The stranger came straight +on, however, without hastening his deliberate steps one jot. The cock +waited, maintaining his attitude of challenge, till not more than three +or four feet separated him from the incomprehensible apparition. Then he +sprang lightly over it and turned in a flash, expecting the stranger to +turn also and again confront him. The stranger, however, did nothing of +the kind, but simply continued stolidly on his way, not even troubling +to look round. Such stolidity was more than the cock could understand, +having never encountered a porcupine before. He stared after it for +some moments. Then he crowed scornfully, turned about, and resumed his +lonely quest. + +A little further on, to his great delight, he came out into a small +clearing with a log cabin in the centre of it. A house! It was +associated in his mind with an admiring, devoted flock of hens, and +rivals to be ignominiously routed, and harmless necessary humans whose +business it was to supply unlimited food. He rushed forward eagerly, +careless as to whether he should encounter love or war. + +Alas, the cabin was deserted! Even to his inexperienced eye it was long +deserted. The door hung on one hinge, half open. The one small window +had no glass in it. Untrodden weeds grew among the rotting chips up to +and across the threshold. The roof--a rough affair of poles and +bark--sagged in the middle, just ready to fall in at the smallest +provocation. A red squirrel, his tail carried jauntily over his back, +sat on the topmost peak of it and shrilled high derision at the wanderer +as he approached. + +The cock was acquainted with squirrels, and thought less than nothing of +them. Ignoring the loud chatter, he tip-toed around the cabin, dejected +but still inquisitive. Returning at length to the doorway, he peered in, +craning his neck and uttering a low _kr-rr_. Finally, with head held +high, he stalked in. The place was empty, save for a long bench with a +broken leg and a joint of rust-eaten stove-pipe. Along two of the walls +ran a double tier of bunks, in which the lumbermen had formerly slept. +The cock stalked all around the place, prying in every corner and +murmuring softly to himself. At last he flew up to the highest bunk, +perched upon the edge of it, flapped his wings, and crowed repeatedly, +as if announcing to the wilderness at large that he had taken +possession. This ceremony accomplished, he flew down again, stalked out +into the sunlight, and fell to scratching among the chips with an air of +assured possession. And all the while the red squirrel kept on hurling +shrill, unheeded abuse at him, resenting him as an intruder in the +wilds. + +Whenever the cock found a particularly choice grub or worm or beetle, he +would hold it aloft in his beak, then lay it down and call loudly +_kt-kt-kt-kt-kt-kt_, as if hoping thus to lure some flock of hens to the +fair domain which he had seized. He had now dropped his quest, and was +trusting that his subjects would come to him. That afternoon his valiant +calls caught the ear of a weasel--possibly the very one which he had +seen in the morning trailing the panic-stricken rabbit. The weasel came +rushing upon him at once, too ferocious in its blood-lust for any such +emotions as surprise or curiosity, and expecting an easy conquest. The +cock saw it coming, and knew well the danger. But he was now on his own +ground, responsible for the protection of an imaginary flock. He faced +the peril unwavering. Fortunately for him, the weasel had no idea +whatever of a fighting-cock's method of warfare. When the cock evaded +the deadly rush by leaping straight at it and over it, instead of +dodging aside or turning tail, the weasel was nonplussed for just a +fraction of a second, and stood snarling. In that instant of hesitation +the cock's keen spur struck it fairly behind the ear, and drove clean +into the brain. The murderous little beast stiffened out, rolled gently +over upon its side, and lay there with the soundless snarl fixed upon +its half-opened jaws. Surprised at such an easy victory, the cock +spurred the carcase again, just to make sure of it. Then he kicked it to +one side, crowed, of course, and stared around wistfully for some +appreciation of his triumph. He could not know with what changed eyes +the squirrel--who feared weasels more than anything else on earth--was +now regarding him. + +The killing of so redoubtable an adversary as the weasel must have +become known, in some mysterious fashion, for thenceforward no more of +the small marauders of the forest ventured to challenge the new lordship +of the clearing. For a week the cock ruled his solitude unquestioned, +very lonely, but sleeplessly alert, and ever hoping that followers of +his own kind would come to him from somewhere. In time, doubtless, his +loneliness would have driven him forth again upon his quest; but Fate +had other things in store for him. + +Late one afternoon a grizzled woodsman in grey homespun, and carrying a +bundle swung from the axe over his shoulder, came striding up to the +cabin. The cock, pleased to see a human being once more, stalked forth +from the cabin door to meet him. The woodsman was surprised at the sight +of what he called a "reel barn-yard rooster" away off here in the wilds, +but he was too tired and hungry to consider the question carefully. His +first thought was that there would be a pleasant addition to his supper +of bacon and biscuits. He dropped his axe and bundle, and made a swift +grab at the unsuspecting bird. The latter dodged cleverly, ruffed his +neck feathers with an angry _kr-rr-rr_, hopped up, and spurred the +offending hand severely. + +The woodsman straightened himself up, taken by surprise, and sheepishly +shook the blood from his hand. + +"Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered, eyeing the intrepid cock with +admiration. "You're some rooster, you are! I guess you're all right. +Guess I deserved that, for thinkin' of wringin' the neck o' sech a +handsome an' gritty bird as you, an' me with plenty o' good bacon in me +pack. Guess we'll call it square, eh?" + +He felt in his pocket for some scraps of biscuits, and tossed them to +the cock, who picked them up greedily and then strutted around him, +plainly begging for more. The biscuit was a delightful change after an +unvarying diet of grubs and grass. Thereafter he followed his visitor +about like his shadow, not with servility, of course, but with a certain +condescending arrogance which the woodsman found hugely amusing. + +Just outside the cabin door the woodsman lit a fire to cook his evening +rasher and brew his tin of tea. The cock supped with him, striding with +dignity to pick up the scraps which were thrown to him, and then +resuming his place at the other side of the fire. By the time the man +was done, dusk had fallen; and the cock, chuckling contentedly in his +throat, tip-toed into the cabin, flew up to the top bunk, and settled +himself on his perch for the night. He had always been taught to expect +benefits from men, and he felt that this big stranger who had fed him so +generously would find him a flock to preside over on the morrow. + +After a long smoke beside his dying fire, till the moon came up above +the ghostly solitude, the woodsman turned in to sleep in one of the +lower bunks, opposite to where the cock was roosting. He had heaped an +armful of bracken and spruce branches into the bunk before spreading his +blanket. And he slept very soundly. + +Even the most experienced of woodsmen may make a slip at times. This +one, this time, had forgotten to make quite sure that his fire was out. +There was no wind when he went to bed, but soon afterwards a wind arose, +blowing steadily toward the cabin. It blew the darkened embers to a +glow, and little, harmless-looking flames began eating their way over +the top layer of tinder-dry chips to the equally dry wall of the cabin. + + * * * * * + +The cock was awakened by a bright light in his eyes. A fiery glow, +beyond the reddest of sunrises, was flooding the cabin. Long tongues of +flame were licking about the doorway. He crowed valiantly, to greet this +splendid, blazing dawn. He crowed again and yet again, because he was +anxious and disturbed. As a sunrise, this one did not act at all +according to precedent. + +The piercing notes aroused the man, who was sleeping heavily. In one +instant he was out of his bunk and grabbing up his blanket and his pack. +In the next he had plunged out through the flaming doorway, and thrown +down his armful at a safe distance, cursing acidly at such a disturbance +to the most comfortable rest he had enjoyed for a week. + +From within the doomed cabin came once more the crow of the cock, +shrilling dauntlessly above the crackle and venomous hiss of the flames. + +"Gee whizz!" muttered the woodsman, or, rather, that may be taken as the +polite equivalent of his untrammelled backwoods expletive. "That there +red rooster's game. Ye can't leave a pardner like that to roast!" + +With one arm shielding his face, he dashed in again, grabbed the cock by +the legs, and darted forth once more into the sweet, chill air, none the +worse except for frizzled eyelashes and an unceremonious trimming of +hair and beard. The cock, highly insulted, was flapping and pecking +savagely, but the man soon reduced him to impotence, if not submission, +holding him under one elbow while he tied his armed heels together, and +then swaddling him securely in his coat. + +"There," said he, "I guess we'll travel together from this out, pardner. +Ye've sure saved my life; an' to think I had the notion, for a minnit, +o' makin' a meal offen ye! I'll give ye a good home, anyways, an' I +guess ye'll lick the socks offen every other rooster in the whole blame +Settlement!" + + + + +The Ledge on Bald Face + + +That one stark naked side of the mountain which gave it its name of Old +Bald Face fronted full south. Scorched by sun and scourged by storm +throughout the centuries, it was bleached to an ashen pallor that +gleamed startlingly across the leagues of sombre, green-purple +wilderness outspread below. From the base of the tremendous bald steep +stretched off the interminable leagues of cedar swamp, only to be +traversed in dry weather or in frost. All the region behind the mountain +face was an impenetrable jumble of gorges, pinnacles, and chasms, with +black woods clinging in crevice and ravine and struggling up desperately +towards the light. + +In the time of spring and autumn floods, when the cedar swamps were +impenetrable to all save mink, otter, and musk-rat, the only way from +the western plateau to the group of lakes that formed the source of the +Ottanoonsis, on the east, was by a high, nerve-testing trail across the +wind-swept brow of Old Bald Face. The trail followed a curious ledge, +sometimes wide enough to have accommodated an ox-wagon, at other times +so narrow and so perilous that even the sure-eyed caribou went warily in +traversing it. + +The only inhabitants of Bald Face were the eagles, three pairs of them, +who had their nests, widely separated from each other in haughty +isolation, on jutting shoulders and pinnacles accessible to no one +without wings. Though the ledge-path at its highest point was far above +the nests, and commanded a clear view of one of them, the eagles had +learned to know that those who traversed the pass were not troubling +themselves about eagles' nests. They had also observed another thing--of +interest to them only because their keen eyes and suspicious brains were +wont to note and consider everything that came within their purview--and +that was that the scanty traffic by the pass had its more or less +regular times and seasons. In seasons of drought or hard frost it +vanished altogether. In seasons of flood it increased the longer the +floods lasted. And whenever there was any passing at all, the movement +was from east to west in the morning, from west to east in the +afternoon. + +This fact may have been due to some sort of dimly recognised convention +among the wild kindreds, arrived at in some subtle way to avoid +unnecessary--and necessarily deadly--misunderstanding and struggle. For +the creatures of the wild seldom fight for fighting's sake. They fight +for food, or, in the mating season, they fight in order that the best +and strongest may carry off the prizes. + +But mere purposeless risk and slaughter they instinctively strive to +avoid. The airy ledge across Bald Face, therefore, was not a place where +the boldest of the wild kindred--the bear or the bull-moose, to say +nothing of lesser champions--would wilfully invite the doubtful combat. +If, therefore, it had been somehow arrived at that there should be no +disastrous meetings, no face-to-face struggles for the right of way, at +a spot where dreadful death was inevitable for one or both of the +combatants, that would have been in no way inconsistent with the +accepted laws and customs of the wilderness. On the other hand, it is +possible that this alternate easterly and westerly drift of the wild +creatures--a scanty affair enough at best of times--across the front of +Bald Face was determined in the first place, on clear days, by their +desire not to have the sun in their eyes in making the difficult +passage, and afterwards hardened into custom. It was certainly better to +have the sun behind one in treading the knife-edge pass above the +eagles. + +Joe Peddler found it troublesome enough, that strong, searching glare +from the unclouded sun of early morning full in his eyes, as he worked +over toward the Ottanoonsis lakes. He had never attempted the crossing +of Old Bald Face before, and he had always regarded with some scorn the +stories told by Indians of the perils of that passage. But already, +though he had accomplished but a small portion of his journey, and was +still far from the worst of the pass, he had been forced to the +conclusion that report had not exaggerated the difficulties of his +venture. However, he was steady of head and sure of foot, and the higher +he went in that exquisitely clear, crisp air, the more pleased he felt +with himself. His great lungs drank deep of the tonic wind which surged +against him rhythmically, and seemed to him to come unbroken from the +outermost edges of the world. His eyes widened and filled themselves, +even as his lungs, with the ample panorama that unfolded before them. He +imagined--for the woodsman, dwelling so much alone, is apt to indulge +some strange imaginings--that he could feel his very spirit enlarging, +as if to take full measure of these splendid breadths of sunlit, +wind-washed space. + +Presently, with a pleasant thrill, he observed that just ahead of him +the ledge went round an abrupt shoulder of the rock-face at a point +where there was a practically sheer drop of many hundreds of feet into +what appeared a feather-soft carpet of tree-tops. He looked shrewdly to +the security of his footing as he approached, and also to the +roughnesses of the rock above the ledge, in case a sudden violent gust +should chance to assail him just at the turn. He felt that at such a +spot it would be so easy--indeed, quite natural--to be whisked off by +the sportive wind, whirled out into space, and dropped into that green +carpet so far below. + +In his flexible oil-tanned "larrigans" of thick cowhide, Peddler moved +noiselessly as a wild-cat, even over the bare stone of the ledge. He was +like a grey shadow drifting slowly across the bleached face of the +precipice. As he drew near the bend of the trail, of which not more than +eight or ten paces were now visible to him, he felt every nerve grow +tense with exhilarating expectation. Yet, even so, what happened was the +utterly unexpected. + +Around the bend before him, stepping daintily on her fine hooves, came a +young doe. She completely blocked the trail just on that dizzy edge. + +Peddler stopped short, tried to squeeze himself to the rock like a +limpet, and clutched with fingers of iron at a tiny projection. + +The doe, for one second, seemed petrified with amazement. It was +contrary to all tradition that she should be confronted on that trail. +Then, her amazement instantly dissolving into sheer madness of panic, +she wheeled about violently to flee. But there was no room for even her +lithe body to make the turn. The inexorable rock-face bounced her off, +and with an agonised bleat, legs sprawling and great eyes starting from +their sockets, she went sailing down into the abyss. + +With a heart thumping in sympathy, Peddler leaned outward and followed +that dreadful flight, till she reached that treacherously soft-looking +carpet of tree-tops and was engulfed by it. A muffled crash came up to +Peddler's ears. + +"Poor leetle beggar!" he muttered. "I wish't I hadn't scared her so. +But I'd a sight rather it was her than me!" + +Peddler's exhilaration was now considerably damped. He crept cautiously +to the dizzy turn of the ledge and peered around. The thought upon which +his brain dwelt with unpleasant insistence was that if it had been a +surly old bull-moose or a bear which had confronted him so unexpectedly, +instead of that nervous little doe, he might now be lying beneath that +deceitful green carpet in a state of dilapidation which he did not care +to contemplate. + +Beyond the turn the trail was clear to his view for perhaps a couple of +hundred yards. It climbed steeply through a deep re-entrant, a mighty +perpendicular corrugation of the rock-face, and then disappeared again +around another jutting bastion. He hurried on rather feverishly, not +liking that second interruption to his view, and regretting, for the +first time, that he had no weapon with him but his long hunting-knife. +He had left his rifle behind him as a useless burden to his climbing. +No game was now in season, no skins in condition to be worth the +shooting, and he had food enough for the journey in his light pack. He +had not contemplated the possibility of any beast, even bear or +bull-moose, daring to face him, because he knew that, except in +mating-time, the boldest of them would give a man wide berth. But, as he +now reflected, here on this narrow ledge even a buck or a lynx would +become dangerous, finding itself suddenly at bay. + +The steepness of the rise in the trail at this point almost drove +Peddler to helping himself with his hands. As he neared the next turn, +he was surprised to note, far out to his right, a soaring eagle, perhaps +a hundred feet below him. He was surprised, too, by the fact that the +eagle was paying no attention to him whatever, in spite of his invasion +of the great bird's aerial domain. Instinctively he inferred that the +eagle's nest must be in some quite inaccessible spot at safe distance +from the ledge. He paused to observe from above, and thus fairly near at +hand, the slow flapping of those wide wings, as they employed the wind +to serve the majesty of their flight. While he was studying this, +another deduction from the bird's indifference to his presence flashed +upon his mind. There must be a fairly abundant traffic of the wild +creatures across this pass, or the eagle would not be so indifferent to +his presence. At this thought he lost his interest in problems of +flight, and hurried forward again, anxious to see what might be beyond +the next turn of the trail. + +His curiosity was gratified all too abruptly for his satisfaction. He +reached the turn, craned his head around it, and came face to face with +an immense black bear. + +The bear was not a dozen feet away. At sight of Peddler's gaunt dark +face and sharp blue eyes appearing thus abruptly and without visible +support around the rock, he shrank back upon his haunches with a +startled "woof." + +As for Peddler, he was equally startled, but he had too much discretion +and self-control to show it. Never moving a muscle, and keeping his body +out of sight so that his face seemed to be suspended in mid-air, he +held the great beast's eyes with a calm, unwinking gaze. + +The bear was plainly disconcerted. After a few seconds he glanced back +over his shoulder, and seemed to contemplate a strategic movement to the +rear. As the ledge at this point was sufficiently wide for him to turn +with due care, Peddler expected now to see him do so. But what Peddler +did not know was that dim but cogent "law of the ledge," which forbade +all those who travelled by it to turn and retrace their steps, or to +pass in the wrong direction at the wrong time. He did not know what the +bear knew namely--that if that perturbed beast _should_ turn, he was +sure to be met and opposed by other wayfarers, and thus to find himself +caught between two fires. + +Watching steadily, Peddler was unpleasantly surprised to see the +perturbation in the bear's eyes slowly change into a savage +resentment--resentment at being baulked in his inalienable right to an +unopposed passage over the ledge. To the bear's mind that grim, +confronting face was a violation of the law which he himself obeyed +loyally and without question. To be sure, it was the face of man, and +therefore to be dreaded. It was also mysterious, and therefore still +more to be dreaded. But the sense of bitter injustice, with the +realisation that he was at bay and taken at a disadvantage, filled him +with a frightened rage which swamped all other emotion. Then he came on. + +His advance was slow and cautious by reason of the difficulty of the +path and his dread lest that staring, motionless face should pounce upon +him just at the perilous turn and hurl him over the brink. But Peddler +knew that his bluff was called, and that his only chance was to avoid +the encounter. He might have fled by the way he had come, knowing that +he would have every advantage in speed on that narrow trail. But before +venturing up to the turn he had noted a number of little projections and +crevices in the perpendicular wall above him. Clutching at them with +fingers of steel and unerring toes, he swarmed upwards as nimbly as a +climbing cat. He was a dozen feet up before the bear came crawling and +peering around the turn. + +Elated at having so well extricated himself from so dubious a situation, +Peddler gazed down upon his opponent and laughed mockingly. The sound of +that confident laughter from straight above his head seemed to daunt the +bear and thoroughly damp his rage. He crouched low, and scurried past +growling. As he hurried along the trail at a rash pace, he kept casting +anxious glances over his shoulder, as if he feared the man were going to +chase him. Peddler lowered himself from his friendly perch and continued +his journey, cursing himself more than ever for having been such a fool +as not to bring his rifle. + +In the course of the next half-hour he gained the highest point of the +ledge, which here was so broken and precarious that he had little +attention to spare for the unparalleled sweep and splendour of the view. +He was conscious, however, all the time, of the whirling eagles, now far +below him, and his veins thrilled with intense exhilaration. His +apprehensions had all vanished under the stimulus of that tonic +atmosphere. He was on the constant watch, however, scanning not only the +trail ahead--which was now never visible for more than a hundred yards +or so at a time--and also the face of the rock above him, to see if it +could be scaled in an emergency. + +He had no expectation of an emergency, because he knew nothing of the +law of the ledge. Having already met a doe and a bear, he naturally +inferred that he would not be likely to meet any other of the elusive +kindreds of the wild, even in a whole week of forest faring. The shy and +wary beasts are not given to thrusting themselves upon man's dangerous +notice, and it was hard enough to find them, with all his woodcraft, +even when he was out to look for them. He was, therefore, so surprised +that he could hardly believe his eyes when, on rounding another +corrugation of the rock-face, he saw another bear coming to meet him. + +"Gee!" muttered Peddler to himself. "Who's been lettin' loose the +menagerie? Or hev I got the nightmare, mebbe?" + +The bear was about fifty yards distant--a smaller one than its +predecessor, and much younger also, as was obvious to Peddler's +initiated eye by the trim glossiness of its coat. It halted the instant +it caught sight of Peddler. But Peddler, for his part, kept right on, +without showing the least sign of hesitation or surprise. This bear, +surely, would give way before him. The beast hesitated, however. It was +manifestly afraid of the man. It backed a few paces, whimpering in a +worried fashion, then stopped, staring up the rock-wall above it, as if +seeking escape in that impossible direction. + +"If ye're so skeered o' me as ye look," demanded Peddler, in a crisp +voice, "why in h--ll don't ye turn an' vamoose, 'stead o' backin' an' +fillin' that way? Ye can't git up that there rock, 'less ye're a fly." + +The ledge at that point was a comparatively wide and easy path; and the +bear at length, as if decided by the easy confidence of Peddler's +tones, turned and retreated. But it went off with such reluctance, +whimpering anxiously the while, that Peddler was forced to the +conclusion there must be something coming up the trail which it was +dreading to meet. At this idea Peddler was delighted, and hurried on as +closely as possible at the retreating animal's heels. The bear, he +reflected, would serve him as an excellent advance guard, protecting him +perfectly from surprise, and perhaps, if necessary, clearing the way for +him. He chuckled to himself as he realised the situation, and the bear, +catching the incomprehensible sound, glanced nervously over its shoulder +and hastened its retreat as well as the difficulties of the path would +allow. + +The trail was now descending rapidly, though irregularly, towards the +eastern plateau. The descent was broken by here and there a stretch of +comparatively level going, here and there a sharp though brief rise, and +at one point the ledge was cut across by a crevice some four feet in +width. As a jump, of course, it was nothing to Peddler; but in spite of +himself he took it with some trepidation, for the chasm looked +infinitely deep, and the footing on the other side narrow and +precarious. The bear, however, had seemed to take it quite carelessly, +almost in its stride, and Peddler, not to be outdone, assumed a similar +indifference. + +It was not long, however, before the enigma of the bear's reluctance to +retrace its steps was solved. The bear, with Peddler some forty or fifty +paces behind, was approaching one of those short steep rises which broke +the general descent. From the other side of the rise came a series of +heavy breathings and windy grunts. + +"Moose, by gum!" exclaimed Peddler. "Now, I'd like to know if _all_ the +critters hev took it into their heads to cross Old Bald Face to-day!" + +The bear heard the gruntlings also, and halted unhappily, glancing back +at Peddler. + +"Git on with it!" ordered Peddler sharply. And the bear, dreading man +more than moose, got on. + +The next moment a long, dark, ominous head, with massive, overhanging +lip and small angry eyes, appeared over the rise. Behind this formidable +head laboured up the mighty humped shoulders and then the whole towering +form of a moose-bull. Close behind him followed two young cows and a +yearling calf. + +"Huh! I guess there's goin' to be some row!" muttered Peddler, and cast +his eyes up the rock-face, to look for a point of refuge in case his +champion should get the worst of it. + +At sight of the bear the two cows and the yearling halted, and stood +staring, with big ears thrust forward anxiously, at the foe that barred +their path. But the arrogant old bull kept straight on, though slowly, +and with the wariness of the practised duellist. At this season of the +year his forehead wore no antlers, indeed, but in his great knife-edged +fore-hooves he possessed terrible weapons which he could wield with +deadly dexterity. Marking the confidence of his advance, Peddler grew +solicitous for his own champion, and stood motionless, dreading to +distract the bear's attention. + +But the bear, though frankly afraid to face man, whom he did not +understand, had no such misgivings in regard to moose. He knew how to +fight moose, and he had made more than one good meal, in his day, on +moose calf. He was game for the encounter. Reassured to see that the man +was not coming any nearer, and possibly even sensing instinctively that +the man was on his side in this matter, he crouched close against the +rock and waited, with one huge paw upraised, like a boxer on guard, for +the advancing bull to attack. + +He had not long to wait. + +The bull drew near very slowly, and with his head held high as if +intending to ignore his opponent. Peddler, watching intently, felt some +surprise at this attitude, even though he knew that the deadliest weapon +of a moose was its fore-hooves. He was wondering, indeed, if the +majestic beast expected to press past the bear without a battle, and if +the bear, on his part, would consent to this highly reasonable +arrangement. Then like a flash, without the slightest warning, the bull +whipped up one great hoof to the height of his shoulder and struck at +his crouching adversary. + +The blow was lightning swift, and with such power behind it that, had it +reached its mark, it would have settled the whole matter then and there. +But the bear's parry was equally swift. His mighty forearm fended the +stroke so that it hissed down harmlessly past his head and clattered on +the stone floor of the trail. At the same instant, before the bull could +recover himself for another such pile-driving blow, the bear, who had +been gathered up like a coiled spring, elongated his body with all the +force of his gigantic hindquarters, thrusting himself irresistibly +between his adversary and the face of the rock, and heaving outwards. + +These were tactics for which the great bull had no precedent in all his +previous battles. He was thrown off his balance and shouldered clean +over the brink. By a terrific effort he turned, captured a footing upon +the edge with his fore-hooves, and struggled frantically to drag himself +up again upon the ledge. But the bear's paw struck him a crashing +buffet straight between the wildly staring eyes. He fell backwards, +turning clean over, and went bouncing, in tremendous sprawling curves, +down into the abyss. + +Upon the defeat of their leader the two cows and the calf turned +instantly--which the ledge at this point was wide enough to permit--and +fled back down the trail at a pace which seemed to threaten their own +destruction. The bear followed more prudently, with no apparent thought +of trying to overtake them. And Peddler kept on behind him, taking care, +however, after this exhibition of his champion's powers, not to press +him too closely. + +The fleeing herd soon disappeared from view. It seemed to have +effectually cleared the trail before it, for the curious procession of +the bear and Peddler encountered no further obstacles. + +After about an hour the lower slopes of the mountain were reached. The +ledge widened and presently broke up, with trails leading off here and +there among the foothills. At the first of these that appeared to offer +concealment the bear turned aside and vanished into a dense grove of +spruce with a haste which seemed to Peddler highly amusing in a beast of +such capacity and courage. He was content, however, to be so easily quit +of his dangerous advance guard. + +"A durn good thing for me," he mused, "that that there b'ar never got up +the nerve to call my bluff, or I might 'a' been layin' now where that +unlucky old bull-moose is layin', with a lot o' flies crawlin' over me." + +And as he trudged along the now easy and ordinary trail, he registered +two discreet resolutions--first, that never again would he cross Old +Bald Face without his gun _and_ his axe; and second, that never again +would he cross Old Bald Face at all, unless he jolly well had to. + + + + +The Morning of the Silver Frost + + +All night the big buck rabbit--he was really a hare, but the +backwoodsman called him a rabbit--had been squatting on his form under +the dense branches of a young fir tree. The branches grew so low that +their tips touched the snow all round him, giving him almost perfect +shelter from the drift of the storm. The storm was one of icy rain, +which everywhere froze instantly as it fell. All night it had been busy +encasing the whole wilderness--every tree and bush and stump, and the +snow in every open meadow or patch of forest glade--in an armour of ice, +thick and hard and glassy clear. And the rabbit, crouching motionless, +save for an occasional forward thrust of his long, sensitive ears, had +slept in unwonted security, knowing that none of his night-prowling foes +would venture forth from their lairs on such a night. + +At dawn the rain stopped. The cold deepened to a still intensity. The +clouds lifted along the eastern horizon, and a thin, icy flood of +saffron and palest rose washed down across the glittering desolation. +The wilderness was ablaze on the instant with elusive tongues and points +of coloured light--jewelled flames, not of fire, but of frost. The world +had become a palace of crystal and opal, a dream-palace that would +vanish at a touch, a breath. And, indeed, had a wind arisen then to +breathe upon it roughly, the immeasurable crystal would have shattered +as swiftly as a dream, the too-rigid twigs and branches would have +snapped and clattered down in ruin. + +The rabbit came out from under his little ice-clad fir tree, and, for +all his caution, the brittle twigs broke about him as he emerged, and +tinkled round him sharply. The thin, light sound was so loud upon the +stillness that he gave a startled leap into the air, landing many feet +away from his refuge. He slipped and sprawled, recovered his foothold, +and stood quivering, his great, prominent eyes trying to look in every +direction at once, his ears questioning anxiously to and fro, his +nostrils twitching for any hint of danger. + +There was no sight, sound, or scent, however, to justify his alarm, and +in a few seconds, growing bolder, he remembered that he was hungry. +Close by he noticed the tips of a little birch sapling sticking up above +the snow. These birch-tips, in winter, were his favourite food. He +hopped toward them, going circumspectly over the slippery surface, and +sat up on his hindquarters to nibble at them. To his intense surprise +and disappointment, each twig and aromatic bud was sealed away, +inaccessible, though clearly visible, under a quarter inch of ice. Twig +after twig he investigated with his inquiring, sensitive cleft nostrils, +which met everywhere the same chill reception. Round and round the +tantalising branch he hopped, unable to make out the situation. At last, +thoroughly disgusted, he turned his back on the treacherous birch bush +and made for another, some fifty yards down the glade. + +As he reached it he stopped short, suddenly rigid, his head half turned +over his shoulder, every muscle gathered like a spring wound up to +extreme tension. His bulging eyes had caught a movement somewhere behind +him, beyond the clump of twigs which he had just left. Only for a second +did he remain thus rigid. Then the spring was loosed. With a frantic +bound he went over and through the top of the bush. The shattered and +scattered crystals rang sharply on the shining snow-crust. And he sped +away in panic terror among the silent trees. + +From behind the glassy twigs emerged another form, snow-white like the +fleeting rabbit, and fled in pursuit--not so swiftly, indeed, as the +rabbit--with an air of implacable purpose that made the quarry seem +already doomed. The pursuer was much smaller than his intended victim, +very low on the legs, long-bodied, slender, and sinuous, and he moved as +if all compacted of whipcord muscle. The grace of his long, deliberate +bounds was indescribable. His head was triangular in shape, the ears +small and close-set, the black-tipped muzzle sharply pointed, with the +thin, black lips upcurled to show the white fangs as if in a ferocious +but soundless snarl, and the eyes glowed red with blood-lust. Small as +it was, there was something terrible about the tiny beast, and its +pursuit seemed as inevitable as Fate. At each bound its steel-hard claws +scratched sharply on the crystal casing of the snow, and here and there +an icicle from a snapped twig went ringing silverly across the gleaming +surface. + +For perhaps fifty yards the weasel followed straight upon the rabbit's +track. Then he swerved to the right. He had lost sight of his quarry. +But he knew its habits in flight. He knew it would run in a circle, and +he took a chord of that circle, so as to head the fugitive off. He knew +he might have to repeat this manoeuvre several times, but he had no +doubts as to the result. In a second or two he also had disappeared +among the azure shadows and pink-and-saffron gleams of the ice-clad +forest. + +For several minutes the glade was empty, still as death, with the bitter +but delicate glories of the winter dawn flooding ever more radiantly +across it. On a sudden the rabbit appeared again, this time at the +opposite side of the glade. He was running irresolutely now, with little +aimless leaps to this side and to that, and his leaps were short and +lifeless, as if his nerve-power were getting paralysed. About the middle +of the glade he seemed to give up altogether, as if conquered by sheer +panic. He stopped, hesitated, wheeled round, and crouched flat upon the +naked snow, trembling violently, and staring, with eyes that started +from his head, at the point in the woods which he had just emerged from. + +A second later the grim pursuer appeared. He saw his victim awaiting +him, but he did not hurry his pace by a hair's-breadth. With the same +terrible deliberation he approached. Only his jaws opened, his long +fangs glistened bare; a blood-red globule of light glowed redder at the +back of his eyes. + +One more of those inexorable bounds, and he would have been at his +victim's throat. The rabbit screamed. + +At that instant, with a hissing sound, a dark shadow dropped out of the +air. It struck the rabbit. He was enveloped in a dreadful flapping of +wings. Iron talons, that clutched and bit like the jaws of a trap, +seized him by the back. He felt himself partly lifted from the snow. He +screamed again. But now he struggled convulsively, no longer submissive +to his doom, the hypnotic spell cast upon him by the weasel being broken +by the shock of the great hawk's unexpected attack. + +But the weasel was not of the stuff or temper to let his prey be +snatched thus from his jaws. Cruel and wanton assassin though he was, +ever rejoicing to kill for the lust of killing, long after his hunger +was satisfied, he had the courage of a wounded buffalo. A mere darting +sliver of white, he sprang straight into the blinding confusion of those +great wings. + +He secured a hold just under one wing, where the armour of feathers was +thinnest, and began to gnaw inwards with his keen fangs. With a +startled cry, the hawk freed her talons from the rabbit's back and +clutched frantically at her assailant. The rabbit, writhing out from +under the struggle, went leaping off into cover, bleeding copiously, but +carrying no fatal hurt. He had recovered his wits, and had no idle +curiosity as to how the battle between his enemies would turn out. + +The hawk, for all her great strength and the crushing superiority of her +weapons, had a serious disadvantage of position. The weasel, maintaining +his deadly grip and working inwards like a bull-dog, had hunched up his +lithe little body so that she could not reach it with her talons. She +tore furiously at his back with her rending beak, but the amazingly +tough, rubbery muscles resisted even that weapon to a certain degree. At +last, securing a grip with her beak upon her adversary's thigh, she +managed to pull the curled-up body out almost straight, and so secured a +grip upon it with one set of talons. + +That grip was crushing, irresistible, but it was too far back to be +immediately fatal. The weasel's lithe body lengthened out under the +agonising stress of it, but it could not pull his jaws from their grip. +They continued inexorably their task of gnawing inwards, ever inwards, +seeking a vital spot. + +The struggle went on in silence, as far as the voices of both combatants +were concerned. But the beating of the hawk's wings resounded on the +glassy-hard surface of the snow. As the struggle shifted ground, those +flapping wings came suddenly in contact with a bush, whose iced twigs +were brittle as glass and glittering like the prisms of a great crystal +candelabra. There was a shrill crash and a thin, ringing clatter as the +twigs shattered off and spun flying across the crust. + +The sound carried far through the still, iridescent spaces of the +wilderness. It reached the ears of a foraging fox, who was tip-toeing +with dainty care over the slippering crust. He turned hopefully to +investigate, trusting to get a needed breakfast out of some +fellow-marauder's difficulties. At the edge of the glade he paused, +peering through a bush of crystal fire to size up the situation before +committing himself to the venture. + +Desperately preoccupied though she was, the hawk's all-seeing eyes +detected the red outlines of the fox through the bush. With a frantic +beating of her wings she lifted herself from the snow. The fox darted +upon her with a lightning rush and a shattering of icicles. He was just +too late. The great bird was already in the air, carrying her deadly +burden with her. The fox leapt straight upwards, hoping to pull her +down, but his clashing jaws just failed to reach her talons. Labouring +heavily in her flight, she made off, striving to gain a tree-top where +she might perch and once more give her attention to the gnawing torment +which clung beneath her wing. + +The fox, being wise, and seeing that the hawk was in extremest straits, +ran on beneath her as she flew, gazing upwards expectantly. + +The weasel, meanwhile, with that deadly concentration of purpose which +characterises his tribe, paid no heed to the fact that he was journeying +through the air. And he knew nothing of what was going on below. His +flaming eyes were buried in his foe's feathers, his jaws were steadily +working inwards toward her vitals. + +Just at the edge of the glade, immediately over the top of a branchy +young paper-birch which shot a million coloured points of light in the +sunrise, the end came. The fangs of the weasel met in the hawk's wildly +throbbing heart. With a choking burst of scarlet blood it stopped. + +Stone dead, the great marauder of the air crashed down through the slim +birch-top, with a great scattering of gleams and crystals. With +wide-sprawled wings she thudded down upon the snow-crust, almost under +the fox's complacent jaws. The weasel's venomous head, covered with +blood, emerged triumphant from the mass of feathers. + +As the victor writhed free, the fox, pouncing upon him with a careless +air, seized him by the neck, snapped it neatly, and tossed the long, +limp body aside upon the snow. He had no use for the rank, stringy meat +of the weasel when better fare was at hand. Then he drew the hawk close +to the trunk of the young birch, and lay down to make a leisurely +breakfast. + + +THE END + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + +The following pages contain advertisements of books by the same author +or on kindred subjects. + + +Neighbors Unknown + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "HOOF AND CLAW," ETC. + +_Decorated cloth, illustrated, 12mo, $1.50_ + +"Mr. Roberts knows his animals intimately and writes about them with +understanding and reality."--_The Continent._ + +"Whether viewed as stories, as natural history, or as literature, young +and old should lose no time in making the acquaintance of 'Neighbors +Unknown.'"--_N. Y. Times._ + +"Few stories about animals have as strong a power to interest and +entertain or carry as deep a conviction of their truth and +reasonableness as those by Charles G. D. Roberts, which comprise the +volume 'Neighbors Unknown.'"--_Chicago Tribune._ + +"What observation, what power of description is displayed in Charles G. +D. Roberts's latest volume of stories!"--_Bellman._ + + +Hoof and Claw + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "NEIGHBORS UNKNOWN," ETC. + +With illustrations by PAUL BRANSOM + +_Ill., decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.35_ + +"Whoever loves the wilderness and its furred and feathered inhabitants +is always glad to know of a new book by Charles G. D. Roberts, whose +knowledge and sympathy with wild things is profound, but who never falls +into that danger of humanizing his characters."--_Springfield +Republican._ + +"A great deal of keen observation has evidently gone into the making of +these tales ... city dwellers owe to this sort of book a debt which they +probably will never sufficiently pay, and that is to read +them."--_Chicago Evening Post._ + + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +THE BACKWOODSMEN + +_Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50_ + +Juvenile Library $.50 + +"'The Backwoodsmen' shows that the writer knows the backwoods as the +sailor knows the sea. Indeed, his various studies of wild life in +general, whether cast in the world of short sketch or story or +full-length narrative, have always secured an interested public.... Mr. +Roberts possesses a keen artistic sense which is especially marked when +he is rounding some story to its end. There is never a word too much, +and he invariably stops when the stop should be made.... Few writers +exhibit such entire sympathy with the nature of beasts and birds as +he."--_Boston Herald._ + +"When placed by the side of the popular novel, the strength of these +stories causes them to stand out like a huge primitive giant by the side +of a simpering society miss, and while the grace and beauty of the girl +may please the eye for a moment, it is to the rugged strength of the +primitive man your eyes will turn to glory in his power and simplicity. +In simple, forceful style Mr. Roberts takes the reader with him out into +the cold, dark woods, through blizzards, stalking game, encountering all +the dangers of the backwoodsmen's life, and enjoying the close contact +with Nature in all her moods. His descriptions are so vivid that you can +almost feel the tang of the frosty air, the biting sting of the snowy +sleet beating on your face, you can hear the crunch of the snow beneath +your feet, and when, after heartlessly exposing you to the elements, he +lets you wander into camp with the characters of the story, you stretch +out and bask in the warmth and cheer of the fire."--_Western Review._ + + +KINGS IN EXILE + +The Macmillan Fiction Library, Ill., 12mo, $.50 + +_Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50_ + +"More wonderful animal tales such as only Mr. Roberts can relate. With +accurate knowledge of the exiled beasts and a vivid imagination, +the author writes stories that are even more than usually +interesting."--_Book News Monthly._ + +"It is surprising how much of the wilderness his wistful eye discovers +in a Central Park buffalo yard. For this gift of vision the book will be +read, a vision with its reminder of the scent of dark forests of fir, +the awful and majestic loneliness of sky-towering peaks, the roar of the +breakers and salty smell of the sea, the whispering silences of the +forests. We rise from its pages with the breath of the open spaces in +our lungs."--_Boston Transcript._ + + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "THE BACKWOODSMEN," ETC. + +Children of The Wild + +_With illustrations, cloth, 12 mo_, $1.35 + +As might be inferred from the title of Charles G. D. Roberts' new book, +"Children of the Wild," the reader is brought very close to nature. Mr. +Roberts has written many stories about the wild, all of which have the +atmosphere which few writers are able to breathe into their books--the +atmosphere of outdoor life told with the sure touch of a recognized +authority. Here he writes for boys particularly, still of the creatures +of the forests and streams, but with a boy as the central human figure. +Babe and his Uncle Andy and Bill, the guide, are camping in the +wilderness. What they see and hear there suggest stories about young +animals, the "children of the wild." These tales are recounted by Uncle +Andy. In them Mr. Roberts shows that he knows his fellowmen fully as +well as he knows the lore of the woods and the haunts and habits of the +animals of the forest. Into his stories creep snatches of humor, +glimpses of tragedy, and the poignant touch of pathos, all of which make +his work natural. The present work should prove a most acceptable +remembrance to every boy who cares, and what boy does not, for a hearty +book of outdoor life. + + +The Feet of the Furtive + +_Decorated cloth, 12mo_, $1.35 + +Illustrated by PAUL BRANSOM + +It is to be doubted whether there is a more popular animal writer to-day +than Charles G. D. Roberts, whose stories of forests and streams are +read with pleasure by young and old alike. In his present book are tales +of the bear, the bat, the seal, the moose, rabbit and other animals +written in his usual vivid style. + +"A great book for boys of all ages, and one that could have been written +only by Charles G. D. Roberts."--_Boston Times._ + + +JACK LONDON'S NEW BOOK + +The Turtles of Tasman + +_$1.25_ + +Here are brought together some of Mr. London's best short stories, +stories of adventure, of character, of unusual experiences in unusual +places. Here will be found _The Turtles of Tasman_, a tale of two +brothers as different in nature as it is possible for human beings to +be, and raising the old question as to which got the most out of life, +the one with possessions or the one with rich memories; here also _The +Eternity of Forms_, a mystery story dealing with a crime and its +expiation; here again _Told in the Drooling Ward_, a masterly bit of +writing which gives a human insight into the life of the inmates of a +home for feebleminded people. Among the other stories are noted _The +Hobo and the Fairy_, _The Prodigal Father_, _The First Poet_, _Finis_ +and _The End of the Story_. + + +Gold Must Be Tried by Fire + +BY RICHARD AUMERLE MAHER + +AUTHOR OF "THE SHEPHERD OF THE NORTH." + +From the opening chapter when Daidie Grattan revolts at the "eternal +grind," defiantly destroys a valuable piece of machinery in the factory +where she is employed, and runs out into the open, this story is brimful +of action and character. In _The Shepherd of the North_ Mr. Maher +demonstrated his ability to create tense situations. Here his skill is +once again seen and in addition he makes the reader acquainted with a +number of interesting people, not the least of whom are Daidie herself +and her ardent lover. + + +The Key to Betsy's Heart + +BY SARAH NOBLE IVES + +_Cloth, 12mo, $1.25_ + +This is the story of Betsy and her dog. Betsy is a little country girl +who, after her mother's death, is taken into the family of her Aunt +Kate, a wise and charming person whose duty it is to bring Betsy up +properly, while Betsy in turn has to bring up Van, a fox terrier. It is +the dog, of course, that proves to be the key to the shy girl's +heart--an extraordinarily nice "pup" whose education is carried on +simultaneously with Betsy's, only along different lines. Both as a dog +story and as a girl story _The Key to Betsy's Heart_ is eminently +satisfying, and it is safe to conjecture that there will be many little +girls in real life and a few elders, too, who will be delighted with it. + + +Pilot + +BY H. PLUNKETT GREEN + +Pilot is a roguish and cunning dog who is an inveterate poacher and has +a distinct sense of humor. He always gets the best of the gamekeepers +and other enemies and laughs in their faces. About him Mr. Green has +woven a thoroughly enjoyable--and humorous--story. In addition to this +the book includes a number of other tales, one or two dealing with +fairies, with real charm and imagination, and others having to do with +boys and fishing. + + +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Secret Trails, by Charles G. D. 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Roberts. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .tocnum {position: absolute; top: auto; right: 15%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Secret Trails, by Charles G. D. Roberts + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Secret Trails + +Author: Charles G. D. Roberts + +Release Date: November 27, 2010 [EBook #34454] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET TRAILS *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<h1>THE SECRET TRAILS</h1> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> +<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="200" height="76" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center"> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +<br /> +NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS<br /> +ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO<br /> +<br /> +MACMILLAN & CO., <span class="smcap">Limited</span><br /> +<br /> +LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA<br /> +MELBOURNE<br /> +<br /> +THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, <span class="smcap">Ltd</span>.<br /> +<br /> +TORONTO<br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="front" id="front"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 424px;"> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="424" height="650" alt="He struggled frantically to drag himself up again upon +the ledge." title="" /> +<span class="caption">He struggled frantically to drag himself up again upon +the ledge.</span> +</div> + +<h4>THE</h4> + +<h1>SECRET TRAILS</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS</h2> + +<h3>Author of "The Feet of the Furtive," "Kings in Exile," etc.</h3> + +<h4><i>ILLUSTRATED</i></h4> + +<p class="center"> +New York<br /> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +1916<br /> +<br /> +<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> +<br /> +Copyright, 1914,<br /> +By the Associated Sunday Magazines.<br /> +<br /> +Copyright, 1915,<br /> +By the National Sunday Magazine,<br /> +By the Red Book Corporation, and<br /> +By the Illustrated Sunday Magazine.<br /> +<br /> +Copyright, 1916,<br /> +By the International Magazine Company.<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1916,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +<br /> +Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1916.<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> +<span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Black Boar of Lonesome Water</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Dog That Saved the Bridge</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_33'>33</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Calling of the Lop-horned Bull</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_53'>53</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Aigrette</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_77'>77</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Cabin in the Flood</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_90'>90</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Brothers of the Yoke</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_115'>115</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Trailers</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_136'>136</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Cock-crow</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_154'>154</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Ledge on Bald Face</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_179'>179</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">The Morning of the Silver Frost</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_201'>201</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + +<p> +He struggled frantically to drag himself up +again upon the ledge <span class="tocnum"><i><a href="#front">Frontispiece</a></i></span><br /> +<br /> + <span class="tocnum">FACING PAGE</span><br /> +The black boar had wandered so far into the wilderness +that he was safe from pursuit <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_10'>10</a></span><br /> +<br /> +He only knew his lines were close ahead, and he must reach them <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Black and huge against the pallid radiance towered a moose bull <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_56'>56</a></span><br /> +<br /> +The mother egret flapped blindly upon the top of the water <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_84'>84</a></span><br /> +<br /> +"This ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's +a Noah's Ark, that's what it be!" <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_102'>102</a></span><br /> +<br /> +He launched himself into the battle <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_132'>132</a></span><br /> +<br /> +Leaping upwards and striking downwards with his destroying heels <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_160'>160</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE SECRET TRAILS</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>The Black Boar of Lonesome Water</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>The population of Lonesome Water—some fourscore families in +all—acknowledged one sole fly in the ointment of its self-satisfaction. +Slowly, reluctantly, it had been brought to confess that the breed of +its pigs was not the best on earth. They were small, wiry pigs, +over-leisurely of growth, great feeders, yet hard to fatten; and in the +end they brought but an inferior price in the far-off market town by the +sea, to which their frozen, stiff-legged carcases were hauled on sleds +over the winter's snow. It was decided by the village council that the +breed must be severely improved.</p> + +<p>They were a peculiar people, the dwellers about the remote and lovely +shores of Lonesome<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> Water. They were the descendants of a company of +Welsh sectarians who, having invented a little creed of their own which +was the sole repository of truth and righteousness, had emigrated to +escape the contamination of their neighbours. They had come to Canada +because Canada was not crowded; and they had chosen the lovely valley of +Lonesome Water, not for its loveliness, but for its lonesomeness and its +fertility, and for the fact that it was surrounded by tracts of barren +land which might keep off the defilements of the world. Here they +devoted themselves to farming and to the contemplation of their own +superiority; and having a national appreciation of the value of a +half-penny, they prospered.</p> + +<p>As may easily be understood, it was no small thing for the people of +Lonesome Water to be forced, by the unanswerable logic of the market +price, to acknowledge that their pigs were inferior to the pigs of the +ungodly. Of course, there were many in the Settlement who refused flatly +to believe that this could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> be so. Providence could not be so +short-sighted as to permit it. But the majority faced the truth with +solemn resolution. And Morgan Fluellyn, the hog reeve of Lonesome Water, +was sent to K-ville, to interview the secretary of the provincial +agricultural society, and to purchase—if it could be done at a +bargain—some pigs of a pedigree worthy the end in view.</p> + +<p>In the eyes of Morgan Fluellyn—small, deep-set, choleric eyes—the town +of K-ville, with its almost two thousand inhabitants, its busy picture +show, its three pubs, its cheerful, friendly girls, who adorned their +hats with lavish flowers and feathers, was a place upon which the fires +of an outraged heaven might some day fall. He had no mind to be caught +in K-ville at the moment of this merited catastrophe. He lost no time in +putting through his business.</p> + +<p>When he found the secretary, and learned the price of pedigree pigs, his +indignation nearly choked him. With righteous sternness he denounced the +secretary, the society,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> and the Government, and stalked from the +office. But an hour in the air brought him to a clearer understanding, +and his ambitions on behalf of his community revived. Lonesome Water had +the truth. She had a monopoly of the virtues. She should also have pigs +that would command these outrageous prices. Why should the ungodly +triumph?</p> + +<p>And they did not—at least, not altogether. Morgan Fluellyn was allowed +to achieve a bargain. The mollified secretary consented to sell him, at +a reduced figure, a big black Berkshire boar, of unimpeachable breeding, +but small success in the show-pen, and in temper not to be relied on. +The great boar had a steel ring through his snout, and Fluellyn set out +with him proudly. Fluellyn was delighted with his prize, but it appeared +that his prize was not equally delighted with Fluellyn. In fact, the +great grunting beast was surly and cantankerous from the first. He would +look at his purchaser with a malign cunning in his eyes, and sometimes +make a slash at his leg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> with gnashing jaws. But Fluellyn was by no +means lacking in the valour and pugnacity of his race, and his patience +was of the shortest. By means of that rope through his captive's snout, +he had an advantage which he knew how to make the most of. The fringe of +fiery whisker, which haloed his red, clean-shaven cheeks and chin like a +ruff, fairly curled with wrath at the beast's presumption, and he +administered such discipline with his cudgel as he felt sure would not +soon be forgotten.</p> + +<p>After this, for mile upon mile of the lonely backwoods trail, there was +peace, and even an apparent unanimity of purpose, between Fluellyn and +his sullenly grunting charge. But the great black boar was not really +subdued. He was merely biding his time. And because he bided it +cunningly, his time came.</p> + +<p>The trail was bad, the going hard, for there was no unnecessary travel +either way between Lonesome Water and her neighbour settlements. +Fluellyn was tired. It was getting along in the afternoon. He sat down +on a log which lay invitingly by the side of the trail.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> From the bag of +feed which he carried on his back, he poured out a goodly allowance for +the black boar, being not unwilling to keep the brute amiable. Then he +seated himself on the log, in the caressing spring sunshine, and pulled +out his pipe. For Fluellyn smoked. It was his one concession to human +weakness, and it had almost lost him his election as hog-reeve. +Nevertheless, he smoked. The air was bland, and he, too, became almost +bland. His choleric eyes grew visionary. He forgot to distrust the black +boar.</p> + +<p>The perfidious beast devoured its feed with noisy enthusiasm, at the +same time watching Fluellyn out of the corner of its wicked little eye. +When the feed was finished, it flashed about without a ghost of a +warning and charged full upon Fluellyn.</p> + +<p>Behind the log on which Fluellyn sat the ground fell away almost +perpendicularly, perhaps, twelve or fifteen feet, to the edge of a +foaming brown trout-brook fringed with alders. As the boar charged, +Fluellyn sprang to his feet. At the same time he tried to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> spring +backwards. His heels failed to clear the log; and in this his luck was +with him, for the boar this time meant murder. He plunged headlong, with +a yell of indignation, over the steep. And the animal, checking itself +at the brink, glared down upon him savagely, gnashing its tusks.</p> + +<p>Fluellyn was quite seriously damaged by his fall. His head and forehead +were badly cut, so that his face was bathed in blood and dirt, through +which his eyes glared upward no less fiercely than those of his +adversary. His left arm was broken and stabbing at him with keen +anguish, but he was too enraged to notice his hurts, and if it had been +suggested to him that his fall had saved his life, he would have blown +up with fury. He flew at the face of the steep like a wild-cat, +struggling to scramble up it and get at the foe. But in this purpose, +luckily for him, he was foiled by his broken arm. The boar, too, though +eager to follow up his triumph, durst not venture the descent.</p> + +<p>For some minutes, therefore, the antagonists<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> faced each other, the boar +leaning over as far as he could, with vicious squeals and grunts and +slaverings and gnashings, while the indomitable Fluellyn, with language +which he had never guessed himself capable of, and which would have +caused his instant expulsion from Lonesome Water, defied and reviled +him, and strove to claw up to him. At last the boar, who, being the +victor, could best afford it, grew tired of the game. Tossing his armed +snout in the air, he drew back from the brink and trotted off into the +fir-woods on the other side of the trail. Delighted with his first taste +of freedom, he kept on for some miles without a halt, till at last he +came to a pond full of lily leaves, with soft black mud about its edges. +Here he lay down and wallowed till his wrath cooled. Then he stretched +himself in the grass and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>As for Fluellyn, his wrath had no excuse for cooling, for the anguish of +his hurts at last diverted his attention from it, more or less. He +stumbled on down the stream till he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> reached a spot where he could get +up the bank. By this time he was feeling faint, and his angry eyes were +half blinded with the blood which he kept wiping from them with his +sleeve. Nevertheless, he returned to the scene of his overthrow, and +from that point, without a thought of prudence, took up the trail of the +boar through the fir thickets. But he was no expert in woodcraft at the +best of times, and the trail soon eluded him. Forced at last to confess +himself worsted for the moment, he made his way back to the log, +snatched up the bag of feed, that his enemy might not return and enjoy +it, and with dogged resolution set his face once more toward Lonesome +Water.</p> + +<p>When he arrived there, he was babbling in a fever. His appearance was a +scandal, and his language cleared the village street. There were many +who held that he had gone astray under the wicked influence of +K-ville—which was no more than they had always said would happen to a +man who smoked tobacco. But the majority were for not condemning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> him +when he was unable to defend himself. For three weeks he lay helpless. +And by the time he was well enough to tell his story, which was +convincing to all but the sternest of his censors, the black boar had +wandered so far into the wilderness that he was safe from pursuit. There +were no woodsmen in Lonesome Water cunning enough to follow up his +obscure and devious trail.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>In spite of the allurements of the lily pool, the black boar forsook it +after a couple of blissful days' wallowing. The <i>wanderlust</i>, choked +back for generations, had awakened in his veins. He pushed on, not +caring in what direction, for perhaps a fortnight. Though food was +everywhere abundant, he had always to work for it, so he grew lean and +hard and swift. The memory of a thousand years of servitude slipped from +him, as it were, in a night, and at the touch of the wilderness many of +the instincts and aptitudes of a wild thing sprang up in him. Only the +instinct of concealment, of stealth, was lacking to this new equipment +of his. He feared nothing, and he hunted nothing more elusive than +lily-roots; so he took no care to disguise his movements.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/i021.jpg" width="413" height="650" alt="The black boar had wandered so far into the wilderness +that he was safe from pursuit." title="" /> +<span class="caption">The black boar had wandered so far into the wilderness +that he was safe from pursuit.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>At first, because of the noise he made, the forest seemed to him to be +empty of all living things but birds. Then one day, as he lay basking in +the sun, he saw a wild-cat pounce upon a rabbit. At first he stared +curiously. But when he saw the wild-cat feasting on her prey, he decided +that he wanted the banquet for himself. As he burst through the bushes, +the great cat stared for an instant in utter amazement, never having +seen or dreamed of such an apparition. Then, her eyes like moons, her +six-inch bob-tail fluffed to a bottle-brush, and every hair stiffly on +end, she bounced into the nearest tree. There in a crotch she crouched, +spitting and yowling, while her enemy tranquilly devoured the rabbit. +The tit-bit was not altogether to his taste, but he chose to eat it +rather than let the great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> cat have it. And, after all, it was something +of a change from roots and fungi.</p> + +<p>Having thus discovered that rabbits were more or less edible, the black +boar thenceforward chased them whenever they crossed his path. He never +came anywhere near the catching of them, but, in spite of that, he was +not discouraged. Some day, perhaps, he would meet a rabbit that could +not run so fast as the others.</p> + +<p>Fond as the boar was of wallowing in the cool mud of the lily ponds, he +was, in reality, a stickler for personal cleanliness. When the mud was +dry, he would roll in the moss, and scratch himself till it was all +rubbed off, leaving his black bristles in perfect condition. His habits +were as dainty as a cat's, and his bed of dead leaves, in the heart of +some dense thicket, was always kept dry and fastidiously clean.</p> + +<p>One day, as he lay asleep in one of these shadowy lairs, a bear came by, +moving noiselessly in the hope of surprising a rabbit or a brooding +partridge. A breath of air brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> to the great prowler's nostrils a +scent which seemed to him strongly out of place there in the depths of +the forest. He stopped, lifted his muzzle, and sniffed critically. Yes, +that smell was unquestionably pig. Once he had captured a fat young pig +on the outskirts of a settler's farm, and his jaws watered at the +delicious remembrance.</p> + +<p>Crouching low, he crept up toward the thicket, led by his discriminating +nose. His huge paws made no more sound than the gliding of a shadow. +Peering in through the tangle of twigs and leafage, he was able to make +out some black creature asleep. He paused suspiciously. The pig of his +remembrance was white and much smaller than the animal he saw before +him. Still, his nose assured him that this was pig all right. His +appetite hushed his prudence, and, crashing into the thicket, he hurled +himself upon the slumbering form.</p> + +<p>And then a strange thing—a most disconcerting thing—happened to him. +That slumbering form heaved up beneath him, grunting,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> and shot out +between his hind legs with a violence which pitched him forward on his +nose. Before he could recover himself, it wheeled about, looking many +times larger than he had imagined it to be, and charged upon him with an +ear-splitting squeal of rage. The shock bowled him clean over, so that +he rolled out of the thicket, and at the same time he got a tearing +slash down his flank. Startled quite out of his customary pugnacious +courage, he bawled like a yearling cub, scrambled to his feet, and took +to flight ignominiously. But the unknown fury behind him could run as +fast as he, and it clung to his heels, squealing horribly and rooting at +his rump with murderous tusks. In a panic he clawed his way up the +nearest tree.</p> + +<p>Finding himself no longer pursued, he turned and stared down from among +the branches. He saw that his victorious adversary was indeed a pig, but +such a pig! He felt himself most treacherously ill-used—betrayed, in +fact. It was out of all fitness that a pig should be so big, so black, +and so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> abrupt in manners. Had he dared to put the matter again to the +test, he might have avenged his defeat, for he was much the heavier of +the two, and immeasurably the better armed for battle. But he had no +stomach to face that squealing fury again. He crawled on up to a +convenient crotch, and lay there licking his scars and whimpering softly +to himself, his appetite for pork entirely spoiled.</p> + +<p>The boar, after ramping about beneath the tree for a matter of perhaps a +half hour, at last trotted off in disgust, confirmed in his arrogance. +This easy victory over so large and formidable a foe convinced him, had +he needed any convincing, that he was lord of the wilderness. Had he +chanced, about that time, to meet another bear, of sturdier resolution +than the first, he would have had a rude disillusionment.</p> + +<p>As it was, however, no later than the following day he had an adventure +which jarred his complacence. It taught him not exactly prudence, but, +at least, a certain measure of circumspection, which was afterwards to +profit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> him. It was just on the edge of evening, when the wilderness +world was growing vague with violet shadows, and new, delicate scents +were breathing from leaf and bush at the touch of the dew, that the +confident wanderer caught sight of a little black-and-white striped +animal. It was hardly as large as a rabbit. It was not the colour of a +rabbit. It had by no means the watchful, timorous air of a rabbit. As a +matter of fact, it was a skunk; but his far-off ancestors had neglected +to hand down to him any informatory instinct about skunks. He jumped to +the conclusion that it was a rabbit, all the same—perhaps the fat, slow +rabbit which he had been hoping to come across. He hurled himself upon +it with his utmost dash, determined that this time the elusive little +beast should not escape him.</p> + +<p>And it didn't. In fact, it hardly tried to. When he was within a few +feet of it, it jerked its long tail into the air, and at the same time +something dreadful and incomprehensible struck him in the face. It +struck him in the eyes, the nose, the mouth, all at the same time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> It +scalded him, it blinded him, it suffocated him, it sickened him. He +tried to stop himself, but he was too late. His impetus carried him on +so that he trod down and killed the little animal without being aware of +it.</p> + +<p>In fact, he paid no attention whatever to his victory. All he cared +about, for the moment, was breath. His outraged lungs had shut up tight +to keep out the intolerable invader. At last they opened, with a hoarse +gasp of protest at being forced to. Having regained his breath, such as +it was, he wanted to see. But his eyes were closed with a burning, +clinging, oily stuff, which also clung foully in his nostrils and in his +mouth. He strove clumsily to rub them clear with his fore-hooves, and, +failing in this, he flung himself on his back with head outstretched and +rolled frantically in the moss. Achieving thus a measure of vision out +of one inflamed and blurred eye, he caught sight of a marshy pool +gleaming through the trees. Gasping, coughing, blundering into tree and +bush as he went, he rushed to the water's edge and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> plunged his outraged +features as deep as he could into the cool slime. There he rooted and +champed and wallowed till the torment grew less intolerable to all his +senses, and his lungs once more performed their office without a spasm.</p> + +<p>But still that deadly taint clung nauseatingly to his nostrils and his +palate; and at last, quite beside himself with the torment, he emerged +from the water and started on a mad gallop through the woods, trying to +run away from it. He ran till he sank exhausted and fell into a heavy +sleep. When he woke up, there was the smell still with him, and for days +he could scarcely eat for the loathing of it.</p> + +<p>Gradually, however, the clean air and the deodorizing forest scents made +him once more tolerable to himself. But the lesson was not forgotten. +When, one bright and wind-swept morning, he came face to face with a +young porcupine, he stopped politely. The porcupine also stopped and +slowly erected its quills till its size was almost doubled. The boar was +much surprised. This sudden enlargement,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> indeed, was so +incomprehensible that it angered him. The strange absence of fear in the +nonchalant little creature also angered him. He was inclined to rush +upon it at once and chew it up. But the fact that its colour was more or +less black-and-white gave him a painful reminder of his late experience. +Perhaps this was another of those slow rabbits! He checked himself and +sniffed suspiciously. The stranger, with a little grumbling squeak, came +straight at him—not swiftly, or, indeed, angrily, but with a confident +deliberation that was most upsetting. The boar was big enough to have +stamped the porcupine's life out with one stroke of his hoof. But +instead of standing up to his tiny challenger, he turned tail and bolted +off squealing through the undergrowth as if nothing less than a troop of +lions were after him.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>The course of the black boar's wanderings brought him out at last upon +the desolate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> northern shores of Lonesome Water. At night he could +sometimes see, miles away across the lake, a gleam of the discreet +lights of the Settlement—perhaps, indeed, from the windows of Morgan +Fluellyn himself, whose cottage was close down on the waterside. This +northern shore, being mostly swamp and barren, was entirely ignored by +the dwellers in Lonesome Water Settlement, who were satisfied with their +own fertile fields, and not of an inquiring temperament. But it offered +the black boar just the retreat he was now in search of. Tired of +wandering, he found himself a lair in a dense and well-drained thicket +near the bank of a lilied stream which here wound slowly through reeds +and willows to the lake.</p> + +<p>Here, with food abundant, and never skunk or smell of skunk to challenge +his content, he wallowed and rooted the gold-and-green summer away and +found life good. He was not troubled by forebodings of the winter, +because he had never known anything of winter beyond the warmth of a +well-provided pen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>One dreamy and windless afternoon in late September, when a delicate +bluish haze lay over the yellowing landscape, a birch canoe was pushed +in among the reeds, and a woodsman in grey homespun stepped ashore. He +was gaunt and rugged of feature, with quiet, keen, humorous eyes, and he +moved in his soft hide "larrigans" as lightly as a cat. He knew of a +little ice-cold spring in this neighbourhood not far from the river +bank, and he never passed the spot without stopping to drink deep at its +preternaturally crystal flow.</p> + +<p>He had not gone more than fifty yards up the shore when his eye was +caught by a most unusual trail. He stopped to examine it. As he did so, +a sudden crash in the bushes made him turn his head sharply. A massive +black shape, unlike anything he had ever seen before, was charging down +upon him. Whatever it was—and he remembered a picture he had once seen +of a wild boar charging a party of hunters—he knew it meant mischief of +the worst kind. And he had left his gun in the canoe. Under the +circumstances, he was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> too proud to run. He ran well, which was +lucky for him. As he swung up his long legs into the branches, the black +boar reared himself against the trunk, gnashing his tusks and squealing +furiously. The man, from his safe perch, looked down upon him +thoughtfully for perhaps a whole minute.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be durned!" he ejaculated at last, getting out his pipe and +slowly filling it. "Ef 'tain't Fluellyn's pig! To think Jo Peddler 'ld +ever have to run from a pig!"</p> + +<p>For perhaps a half hour Peddler sat there and smoked contentedly enough, +with the patience which the wilderness teaches to all its children. He +expected his gaoler to go away and let him make a dash for the canoe. +But presently he concluded that the boar had no intention of going away. +If so, it was time to do something if he wanted to get across the lake +before dark.</p> + +<p>He cleaned the ashes out of his pipe and saved them carefully. Then he +refilled the pipe very loosely and smoked it violently half through, +which yielded him another collection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> of pungent ash. He repeated the +process several times, till he judged he had enough of the mixture—ash +and dry, powdered tobacco. Then, grinning, he let himself down till he +was barely out of reach, and began to tease and taunt his gaoler till +the surly beast was beside itself with rage, snorting and squealing and +rearing itself against the trunk in its efforts to get at him. At +length, with infinite pains and precision, he sifted the biting mixture +into his adversary's eyes and wide, snorting nostrils. By great good +luck he managed to hit the mark exactly. How he wished the stuff had +been pepper!</p> + +<p>At the result he nearly fell out of the tree with ecstasy. The boar's +squeal was cut short by a paroxysm of choking and coughing. The great +animal nearly fell over backwards. Then, remembering his ancient +experience with the skunk, he rushed blindly for the water, his eyes, +for the most part, screwed up tight, so that he crashed straight through +everything that stood in his path. Peddler dropped from his refuge and +ran for his canoe,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> laughing delightedly as he ran. What little grudge +he owed the animal for his temporary imprisonment, he felt to have been +amply repaid, and he was glad he had not yielded to his first impulse +and emptied the hot coals from his pipe into its nostrils.</p> + +<p>"I'll be givin' yer compliments to Fluellyn," he shouted, as he paddled +away, "an' likely he'll be over to call on ye afore long!"</p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>Jo Peddler had small love for the peculiar community of Lonesome Water. +He never visited it except under the necessity of buying supplies for +his camp. He used to swear that its very molasses was sour, that its tea +was so self-righteous that it puckered his mouth. He never slept under +one of its roofs, choosing, rather, to pitch his tent in the patch of +dishevelled common on the outskirts of the village.</p> + +<p>On the morning after his interview with the black boar, he was making +his purchases<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> at the village grocery—a "general" shop which sold also +hardware, dry goods, and patent medicines, and gave a sort of +disapproving harbourage to the worldly postoffice—when Morgan Fluellyn +dropped in, nodded non-committally, and sat down on a keg of nails. To +Peddler the bad-tempered little Welshman was less obnoxious than most of +his fellow-villagers, both because he was so far human as to smoke +tobacco, and because his reputation and self-satisfaction had been +damaged by the episode of the pedigree boar. There was little tenderness +toward damaged goods, or anything else, in Lonesome Water, so the +woodsman felt almost friendly toward Fluellyn.</p> + +<p>"What'll ye be givin' me," he inquired, proffering his plug of choice +tobacco, "ef I git yer pig back fer ye?"</p> + +<p>Fluellyn so far forgot himself as to spring eagerly to his feet. His +fringe of red whisker fairly curled forward to meet Peddler's +suggestion. If he could restore the precious animal to the community, +his prestige would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> be re-established. Moreover, his own sore shaken +self-esteem would lift its head and flourish once again.</p> + +<p>"I'd pay ye right well, Jo Peddler," he declared, forgetting his native +prudence in a bargain. "Can ye do it, man?"</p> + +<p>"I can that," replied Peddler. And the storekeeper, with a half-filled +kerosene tin in his hand, came forward to listen.</p> + +<p>"I'm a poor man," went on Fluellyn, recollecting himself with a jerk and +sitting down again on the nail keg. "I'm a poor man, as Mr. Perley +here'll tell ye, an' I've already had to pay for the pig out o' my own +pocket. An' it's cost me a fearful sum for the doctor. But I've said I +want the pig back, and I'd pay ye well. An' I won't go back on my word. +What'll ye take now?"</p> + +<p>"I know ye've been playing in hard luck, Fluellyn," said the woodsman +genially, "an' I ain't a-drivin' no bargain. I know what that there pig +cost ye down to K-ville. But he ain't no manner o' use to me. He ain't +what ye'd call a household pet, as ye'll agree.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> I'll find him and ketch +him an' deliver him to ye, sound in wind an' limb, down here at the +landin', if ye'll promise to pay me four pound for my trouble when the +job's rightly done. An' Mr. Perley here's my witness."</p> + +<p>Fluellyn drew a sigh of relief. He thought the woodsman a fool to be so +moderate, but he was not without an inkling of the truth that this +moderation was due to generosity and kindness rather than to folly. To +his amazement, he felt a prompting to be generous himself.</p> + +<p>"Tell ye what I'll do," said he, springing up again and grasping +Peddler's hand. "If ye'll take me along an' let me help ye fix him, I'll +make it five pound instead o' four. He done me bad, an' I'd like to git +square."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Peddler, with an understanding grin.</p> + +<p>On the following morning Peddler and Fluellyn set out for the north +shore of the lake. They went in a roomy row-boat, and they carried with +them an assortment of ropes and straps. They started very early, just on +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> edge of dawn; for even here, in Lonesome Water, were to be found +certain spirits so imperfectly regenerate as to be not above curiosity, +not above a worldly itching to see the outcome of the venture; and +Peddler would have no marplots about to risk the upsetting of his plans.</p> + +<p>When they set out, the unruffled surface of the lake lay gleaming in +vast, irregular breadths and patches of polished steel-grey and ethereal +ice-blue and miraculous violet-silver, so beautiful that Peddler almost +shrank from breaking the charmed stillness with his oars, and even +Fluellyn felt strange stirrings within him of a long-atrophied sense of +beauty. The village of Lonesome Water slumbered heavily, with windows +and hearts alike close shut.</p> + +<p>The sun was high in the hot blue when the boat, with stealthy oars, +crept in among the reeds and made a noiseless landing.</p> + +<p>"If ye stir a foot outside the boat till I call to ye, Fluellyn, the +bargain's off, an' ye kin ketch the pig yerself," admonished Peddler<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> in +a whisper, as he stole up the shore with a coil of ropes over his left +arm and a steel-shod canoe-pole in his right hand.</p> + +<p>He kept a wary eye on the thicket which he judged to be the black boar's +lair, until he was close to the foot of the tree in which he had +previously taken refuge. Then he coughed loudly, announcing his +presence. But there was no response from the thicket.</p> + +<p>"Come out o' that, ye black divil, an' I'll truss ye up like a bale o' +hay!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>As if this inducement was something quite irresistible, came a sudden +crashing, not in the thicket he was watching, but in the bushes directly +behind him, not a dozen paces away. Without stopping to look round, he +dropped his pole and jumped for the tree.</p> + +<p>"Bad luck to ye," he growled, as he gained his perch just in time, +"taking a feller by surprise that way!"</p> + +<p>As the beast squealed and ramped below, Peddler leaned down from his +perch and flicked it smartly with one of his lengths of rope, till it +was jumping up and down and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> almost bursting with rage. Then, securing +the rope to a stout branch, he made a slip-knot in the end of it and +tried to throw it over the boar's fore-leg. After half a dozen failures, +he made a lucky cast and instantly drew the noose tight.</p> + +<p>Instead of being daunted at this, the boar again rushed furiously at the +tree, rearing himself against it in a repetition of his former tactics. +This gave Peddler just the chance he wanted.</p> + +<p>"That's where ye've made the mistake, now," said he sympathetically, and +dropped another noose well over the beast's snout, beyond the tusks. As +he drew it tight, he took up the slack of both ropes in a deft hitch +over the branch; and the boar found itself strung up against the trunk, +dancing frantically on its hind legs, and no longer able even to squeal +effectively.</p> + +<p>"Maybe ye'll be a mite more civil now," mocked Peddler, and dropped +lightly from his branch to the ground.</p> + +<p>In half a minute he had whipped the frantic<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> boar's two front legs +together, also its two hind legs, run a sliding rope from the one pair +to the other, and muzzled the formidable jaws more securely with a +leather skate-strap. Then he freed the ropes from above and lowered his +prisoner carefully to the ground, where it struggled madly till he drew +its fore legs and hind legs close together by means of the sliding rope. +Thus trussed up, it seemed at last to realize its defeat, and lay still +upon its side, breathing heavily, which, indeed, was about the only form +of activity left to it. Peddler stood off and surveyed his captive +benignantly as he filled his pipe. "Fluellyn," he called, "ye kin come +now an' have a talk with yer pig!"</p> + +<p>With a bound, Fluellyn came up the bank, burning to avenge his +humiliations, his cheeks glowing in their halo of crisp red whisker. But +at sight of the great boar lying trussed up so ignobly his face fell.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't ye let me have a hand in the job?" he demanded resentfully.</p> + +<p>"Sorry," said Peddler, "but it couldn't be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> done nohow. Ye'd hev spiled +the whole game, an' like as not got yer gizzard ripped. Now ye've got +him, I allow ye hain't got nawthin' to grumble at." And he waited +curiously to see what the little Welshman would do to relieve his +feelings.</p> + +<p>But Fluellyn, with all his faults, was not the man to kick a fallen foe. +For some moments he eyed the helpless black monster with so sinister a +gaze that Peddler thought he was devising some cruel vengeance, and made +ready to interfere, if necessary. But all Fluellyn did, in the end, was +to go over and seat himself comfortably on the great beast's panting +flank and proceed to fill his pipe.</p> + +<p>"It's goin' to be a hefty job a-gettin' him into the boat," said he at +length, sternly repressing the note of exultation that <i>would</i> creep +into his voice.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Dog that saved the Bridge</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>The old canal lay dreaming under the autumn sun, tranquil between its +green banks and its two rows of stiffly-rimmed bordering poplars. Once a +busy highway for barges, it was now little more than a great drainage +ditch, with swallow and dragon-flies darting and flashing over its +seldom ruffled surface. Scattered here and there over the fat, green +meadows beyond its containing dykes, fat cows lay lazily chewing the +cud.</p> + +<p>It was a scene of unmarred peace. To the cows nothing could have seemed +more impregnable than their security. Off south-westward and southward, +to be sure, the horizon was columned, decoratively but ominously, by +pillars of dense smoke, sharp against the turquoise sky. But such +phenomena, however novel, failed to stir the cows to even the mildest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +curiosity. The spacious summer air, however, was entertaining a strange +riot of noises. It thumped and throbbed and thundered. It seemed to be +ripped across from time to time with a dry, leisurely sound of tearing. +Again, it would be suddenly shattered with enormous earth-shaking +crashes. But all this foolish tumult was in the distance, and it gave +the cows not the slightest concern. It had not interfered with the +excellent quality of the pasturage; it had not disturbed the regularity +of milking-time.</p> + +<p>Strategically considered, the lazy old canal led from nowhere to +nowhere, and the low levels through which it ran were aside from the +track of the fighting. The peasant folk on their little farms still went +about their business, but very quietly and with lowered voices, as if +hoping thus to avoid the eye of Fate.</p> + +<p>Along the grass-grown towpath, marching in half-sections, came a tiny +detachment of long-coated Belgian riflemen with a machine-gun. The +deadly little weapon, on its two-wheeled toy carriage, was drawn by a +pair of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> sturdy, brindled dogs—mongrels, evidently, showing a dash of +bull and a dash of retriever in their make-up. They were not as large as +the dogs usually employed by the Belgians in this kind of service, but +they were strong, and keen on their job. Digging their strong toes into +the turf, they threw their weight valiantly into the straps, and pressed +on, with tongues hanging out and what looked like a cordial grin on +their panting jaws. They seemed desperately afraid of being left behind +by their quick-marching comrades.</p> + +<p>The little band kept well under the trees as they went, lest some +far-scouting aeroplane should catch sight of them. In the south-eastern +sky, presently, an aeroplane—a Taube—did appear; but it was so distant +that the young lieutenant in command of the detachment, after examining +it carefully with his field-glasses, concluded that it was little likely +to detect his dark line moving under the trees. The Taube, that +execrated dove of death, was spying over the Belgian trenches, and +doubtless daring a hot fire from the Belgian rifles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> Once it made a +wide sweep north-westward, rapidly growing larger, and the little band +under the trees lay down, hiding themselves and the gun behind the dyke. +Then its flight swerved back over the Belgian lines, and the commander, +lowering his glasses with a deep breath of relief, gave the order to +march. Two minutes later, around the questing aeroplane appeared a +succession of sudden fleecy puffs of smoke, looking soft and harmless as +cotton-wool. One of these came just before the nose of the aeroplane. +Next moment the machine gave a great swooping dive, righted itself, +dived again, and dropped like a stone.</p> + +<p>"Thank God for that!" muttered the young lieutenant, and his men cheered +grimly under their breath.</p> + +<p>Three minutes later the detachment came to an old stone bridge. Here it +halted. The men began hastily entrenching themselves where they could +best command the approaches on the other side. The machine-gun, lifted +from its little carriage, was placed cunningly behind a screen of reeds. +The two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> dogs, panting, lay down in their harness under a thick bush. In +an amazingly brief time the whole party was so hidden that no one +approaching from the other side of the canal could have guessed there +was anything more formidable in the neighbourhood than the ruminating +cows.</p> + +<p>The neglected, almost forgotten, old bridge had suddenly leapt into +importance. Reinforcements for the sore-pressed division to the +south-east were being sent around by the north of the canal, and were to +cross by the bridge. The detachment had been sent to guard the bridge at +all costs from any wide-roving patrols of Uhlans who might take it into +their heads to blow it up. In war it is a pretty safe principle to blow +up any bridge if you are quite sure you won't be wanting it yourself. +The fact that the other side has spared it is enough to damn it +off-hand.</p> + +<p>The tumult of the far-off gunfire was so unremitting that the ears of +the bridge-guard gradually came to accept it as a mere background, +against which small, insignificant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> sounds, if sudden and unexpected, +became strangely conspicuous. The crowing of a cock in the farmyard a +few fields off, the sharp cry of a moorhen, the spasmodic gabbling of a +flock of fat ducks in the canal—these small noises were almost as +clearly differentiated as if heard in a stark silence.</p> + +<p>For perhaps an hour the detachment had lain concealed, when those +ominous pillars of smoke against the sky were joined suddenly by swarms +of the little white puffs of cotton-wool, and the confused noises +redoubled in violence. The battle was swaying nearer and spreading +around a swiftly widening arc of the low horizon. Then another +aeroplane—another bird-like Taube—came in view, darting up from a +little south of west. The young lieutenant, in his hiding-place beside +the bridge-head clapped his glasses anxiously to his eyes. Yes, the +deadly flier was heading straight for this position. Evidently the +Germans knew of that out-of-the-way bridge, and in their eyes also, for +some reason, it had suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> acquired importance. The Taube was coming +to see in what force it was held.</p> + +<p>"Spies again!" he grunted savagely, turning to explain to his men.</p> + +<p>Flying at a height of only five or six hundred metres, the Taube flew +straight over them. There was no longer any use in attempting +concealment. The riflemen opened fire upon it furiously as soon as it +came within range. It was hit several times; but the Taube is a steel +machine, well protected from below, and neither the pilot nor any vital +part of the mechanism was damaged. It made haste, however, to climb and +swerve away from so hot a neighbourhood. But first, as a message of +defiance, it dropped a bomb. The bomb fell sixty or seventy yards away +from the bridge back in the meadow, among a group of cows. The explosion +killed one cow and wounded several. The survivors, thus rudely shocked +out of their indifference, stamped off down the field, tails in air and +bellowing frantically.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That cooks <i>our</i> goose," snapped one of the riflemen concisely.</p> + +<p>"Their shells'll be dead on to us in ten minutes' time," growled +another. And all cursed soberly.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said the young lieutenant, after a moment's +hesitation. "They want the bridge, so they won't shell it. But you'll +see they'll be on to us shortly with their mitrailleuse and half a +battalion or so, enough to eat us up. We've got to get word back <i>quick</i> +to the General for reinforcements, or the game's up."</p> + +<p>"I'll go, my lieutenant," said Jean Ferréol, an eager, dark Walloon, +springing to his feet.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant did not answer for some moments. He was examining through +his glasses a number of mounted figures, scattering over the plains to +the rear in groups of two and three. Yes, they were Uhlans +unquestionably. The line of combat was shifting eastward.</p> + +<p>"No," said he, "you can't go, Jean. You'd never get through. The Bosches +are all over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> the place back there now. And you wouldn't be in time, +even if you did get through. I'll send one of the dogs."</p> + +<p>He tore a leaf out of his note-book and began scribbling.</p> + +<p>"Better send both dogs, my lieutenant," said Jan Steen, the big, +broad-built Fleming who had charge of the machine-gun, unharnessing the +dogs as he spoke. "Leo's the cleverest, and he'll carry the message +right; but he won't have his heart in the job unless you let Dirck go +along with him. They're like twins. Moreover, the two together wouldn't +excite suspicion like one alone. One alone the Bosches would take for a +messenger dog, sure, but two racing over the grass might seem to be just +playing."</p> + +<p>"<i>Bon!</i>" said the young lieutenant. "Two strings to our bow."</p> + +<p>He hurriedly made a duplicate of his dispatch. The papers were folded +small and tied under the dogs' collars. Big Jan spoke a few words +crisply and decisively in Flemish to Leo, who watched his lips eagerly +and wagged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> his tail as if to show he understood. Then he spoke +similarly, but with more emphasis and reiteration, to Dirck, at the same +time waving his arm toward the distant group of roofs from which the +detachment had come. Dirck looked anxiously at him and whined, and then +glanced inquiringly at Leo, to see if <i>he</i> understood what was required +of them. He was almost furiously willing, but not so quick to catch an +idea as his more lively yoke-fellow. Big Jan repeated his injunctions +yet again, with unhurried patience, while his leader fumed behind him. +Jan Steen knew well that with a dog, in such circumstances, one must be +patient though the skies fall. At last Dirck's grin widened, his tail +wagged violently, and his low whining gave way to a bark of elation.</p> + +<p>"He's got it," said Jan, with slow satisfaction. He waved his arm, and +the two dogs dashed off as if they had been shot out of a gun, keeping +close along the inner base of the dyke.</p> + +<p>"Dirck's got it," repeated Jan, with conviction,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> "and nothing will put +it out of his head till he's done the job."</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>Side by side, racing wildly like children just let out from school, the +two dogs dashed off through the grass along the base of the dyke. Leo, +the lighter in build and in colour, and the more conspicuous by reason +of a white fore-leg, was also the lighter in spirits. Glad to be clear +of the harness and proud of his errand, he was so ebullient in his +gaiety that he could spare time to spring into the air now and again and +snap at a low-fluttering butterfly. The more phlegmatic Dirck, on the +other hand, was too busy keeping his errand fixed in his mind to waste +any interest on butterflies, though he was ready enough to gambol a bit +whenever his volatile comrade frolicked into collision with him.</p> + +<p>Soon—Leo leading, as usual—they quitted the dyke and started off +across the open meadows toward the hottest of the firing. A couple of +patrolling Uhlans, some distance off to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> right, caught sight of +them, and a bullet whined complainingly just over their heads. But the +other Uhlan, the one who had not fired, rebuked his companion for +wasting ammunition. "Can't you see they're just a couple of puppies +larking round?" he asked scornfully. "Suppose you thought they were Red +Cross."</p> + +<p>"Thought they might be dispatch dogs, Herr Sergeant," answered the +trooper deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>"Well, they're not, blockhead," grunted the cocksure sergeant. And the +two rode on, heading diagonally toward the canal.</p> + +<p>The dogs, at the sound of the passing bullet, had crouched flat to the +ground. When the sound was not repeated, however, they sprang up and +continued their journey, Leo, excited but not terrified, more inclined +to frolic than ever, while Dirck, who by some obscure instinct had +realized that the shot was not a chance one, but a direct personal +attack, kept looking back and growling at the pair of Uhlans.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>But though Leo, the exuberant, gambolled as he ran, he ran swiftly, none +the less, so swiftly that plodding Dirck had some trouble to keep up +with him. Ten minutes more, and they ran into the zone of fire. Bullets +hummed waspishly over them, but, after a moment's hesitation, they raced +on, flattening themselves belly to earth. The German infantry were in +position, quite hidden from view, some six or seven hundred yards to the +right. They were firing at an equally invisible line of Belgians, who +were occupying a drainage ditch some three hundred yards to the left. +The two dogs had no way of knowing that the force on their left was a +friendly one, so they kept straight on beneath the crossfire. Had they +only known, their errand might have been quickly accomplished.</p> + +<p>A little farther on, the grass-land came to an end, and there was a +naked, sun-baked stubble-field to cross. As the two raced out over this +perilous open space, the battle deepened above them. The fire from the +Belgian side went high over the dogs' heads, seeking the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> far-off target +of the enemy's prostrate lines. But the German fire was sighted for too +close a range, and the bullets were falling short. Here and there one +struck with a vicious spat close to the runners' feet. Here and there a +small stone would fly into the air with a sudden inexplicable impulse, +or a bunch of stubble would hop up as if startled from its root-hold. A +ball just nicked the extreme tip or Dirck's tail, making him think a +hornet had stung him. With a surprised yelp, he turned and bit at his +supposed assailant. Realizing his mistake in a second, he drooped the +injured member sheepishly and tore on after Leo, who had by now got a +score of paces ahead.</p> + +<p>Next moment a shrapnel shell burst overhead with a shattering roar. Both +dogs cowered flat, shivering. There was a smart patter all about them, +and little spurts of dust, straw, and dry earth darted upwards. The +shrapnel shell was doubtless a mere stray, an ill-calculated shot +exploding far from its target. But to Leo it seemed a direct attack upon +himself. And well he knew what was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> the proper thing to do under such +circumstances. Partly by instruction, partly by natural sagacity, he had +assimilated the vital precept: "When the firing gets too hot, dig +yourself in." With his powerful fore-paws he attacked the stubble, +making the dry earth fly as if he were trying to dig out a badger. Dirck +watched him wonderingly for a moment or two, till a venomous swarm of +bullets just over his head seemed to let light in upon his +understanding. He fell to copying Leo with vehement enthusiasm. In a +brief space each dog had a burrow deep enough to shelter him. Dirck +promptly curled himself up in his, and fell to licking his wounded tail. +But Leo, burning to get on with his errand, kept bobbing up his head +every other second to see how the bullets were striking.</p> + +<p>Another shrapnel shell burst in the air, but farther away than the +first, and Leo marked where the little spurts of dust arose. They were +well behind him. The rifle bullets pinging overhead were higher now, as +the Germans were getting the range of the Belgian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> line. The coast +seemed clear enough. He scrambled from his hole and dashed onward down +the field, yelping for Dirck to follow. And Dirck was at his heels in +half a second.</p> + +<p>The tiny canal-side village which was the goal of these two devoted +messengers was by this time less than a mile away and straight ahead. +When they left it with the machine-gun that morning, it had seemed a +little haven of peace. Now the battle was raging all about it. The tall +church spire, which had risen serenely above its embosoming trees, had +vanished, blown off by a shell. A cottage was burning merrily. Those +harmless-looking puffs of cotton-wool were opening out plenteously above +the clustered roofs. But all these things made no difference to these +two four-footed dispatch-bearers who carried the destiny of the bridge +beneath their collars. They had been ordered to take their dispatches to +the village, and to the village they would go, whether it had become an +inferno or not.</p> + +<p>But now the spectacle of the two dogs racing desperately toward the +village under the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> storm of lead and shell had caught the attention of +both sides. There was no mistaking them now for frolicsome puppies. +There was no question, either, as to which side they belonged to. The +German bullets began to lash the ground like hail all about them. Leo, +true to his principles, stopped at a tiny depression and once more, with +feverish eagerness, began to dig himself in. The earth flew from his +desperate paws. In another minute he would have achieved something like +cover. But a German sharpshooter got the range of him exactly. A bullet +crashed through his sagacious brain, and he dropped, with his muzzle +between his legs, into his half-dug burrow.</p> + +<p>But Dirck, meanwhile, had for once refused to follow his leader's +example. His goal was too near. He saw the familiar uniforms. Above the +din he could detect the cries and calls of encouragement from his +people. Every faculty in his valiant and faithful being bent itself to +the accomplishment of his errand. The bullets raining about him +concerned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> him not at all. The crash of a shrapnel shell just over him +did not even make him cock an eye skyward. The shrapnel bullets raised +jets of dust before and behind him and on either side. But not one +touched him. He knew nothing of them. He only knew his lines were close +ahead, and he must reach them.</p> + +<p>The Belgians cheered and yelled, and poured in a concentrated fire on +that section of the enemy which was attacking the dog. For a few seconds +that small, insignificant, desperate four-footed shape drew upon itself +the undivided attention of several thousand men. It focussed the battle +for the moment. It was only a brindled dog, yet upon its fate hung +immense and unknown issues. Every one knew now that the devoted animal +was carrying a message. The Germans suddenly came to feel that to +prevent the delivery of that message would be like winning a battle. The +Belgians turned a battery from harrying a far-off squadron of horse to +shell the lines opposite, in defence of the little messenger. Men fell +by the score on both sides to decide that unexpected contest.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"> +<img src="images/i063.jpg" width="420" height="650" alt="He only knew his lines were close ahead, and he must +reach them." title="" /> +<span class="caption">He only knew his lines were close ahead, and he must +reach them.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>And still Dirck raced on, heedless of it all.</p> + +<p>Then, within fifty yards of the goal, he fell. A bullet had smashed one +of his legs. He picked himself up again instantly and hobbled forward, +trailing the mangled limb. But the moment he fell, a score of riflemen +had leapt from their lines and dashed out to rescue him. Three dropped +on the way out. Half a dozen more fell on the way back. But Dirck, +whining and licking his rescuers' hands, was carried to shelter behind +the massive stone wall of the inn yard, where the Brigadier and his +officers were receiving and sending out dispatches.</p> + +<p>An aide drew the message from under Dirck's collar and handed it, with a +word of explanation, to the General. The latter read it, glanced at the +time on the dispatch and then at his watch, and gave hurried orders for +strong reinforcements to be rushed up to the old bridge. Then he looked +at Dirck, whose shattered leg was being dressed by an orderly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That dog," he growled, "has been worth exactly three regiments to us. +He's saved the bridge and he's saved three regiments from being cut off. +See that he's well looked after, and cured as soon as possible. He's a +good soldier, and we'll want him again."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Calling of the Lop-horned Bull</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>The harvest moon hung globed and honey-coloured over the glassy +wilderness lake. In the unclouded radiance the strip of beach and the +sand-spit jutting out from it were like slabs of pure ivory between the +mirroring steel-blue of the water and the brocaded dark of the +richly-foliaged shore.</p> + +<p>Behind a screen of this rich foliage—great drooping leaves of water-ash +and maple—sat the figure of a man with his back against a tree, almost +indistinguishable in the confusion of velvety shadows. His rifle leaning +against the tree-trunk beside him, a long, trumpet roll of birch-bark in +his hands, he peered forth through the leaves upon the shining +stillness, while his ears listened so intently that every now and then +they would seem to catch the whisper of his own blood rushing through +his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> veins. But from the moonlit wilds came not a sound except, from +time to time, that vast, faint, whispering sigh, inaudible to all but +the finest ears, in which the ancient forest seems to breathe forth its +content when there is no wind to jar its dreams.</p> + +<p>Joe Peddler had settled himself in a comfortable position in his +hiding-place in order that he might not have to move. He was out to call +moose, and he knew the need of stillness. He knew how far and how +inexplicably the news of an intruder would travel through the wild; but +he knew also how quickly the wild forgets that news, if only the +intruder has craft enough to efface himself. If only he keeps quite +still for a time, the vigilant life of the wild seems to conclude that +he is dead, and goes once more about its furtive business.</p> + +<p>Presently Joe Peddler reached out for his rifle and laid it across his +knees. Then he raised the trumpet of birch-bark to his lips and uttered +through it the strange, hoarse cry of the cow-moose calling to her mate. +It was a harsh note and discordant, a sort of long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>-drawn, bleating +bellow; yet there was a magic in its uncouth appeal which made it seem +the one appropriate voice of those rude but moon-enchanted wilds.</p> + +<p>Joe Peddler was such an expert with the birch-bark horn that his +performance with it could deceive not only the bull, but also the wary +cow, or a cow-stalking bear, or, at times, even an experienced and +discriminating fellow-woodsman. He would call twice or thrice, and stop +and listen for several minutes, confident that on such a glamorous night +as this he would not have long to wait for a response to his lying call.</p> + +<p>And he had not. When the bull-moose comes to the call of the cow, he +comes sometimes noisily and challengingly, with a crashing of underbrush +and a defiant thrashing of his great antlers upon branch and tree as he +pounds through them. At other times he comes as softly as the flight of +an owl.</p> + +<p>Peddler looked out upon the empty whiteness of the beach. He dropped his +eyes for a second to the velvet shadows beside him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> where a wood-mouse, +blundering almost upon his outstretched leg, had fled with a tiny squeak +of terror. When he looked out again, there in the centre of the beach, +black and huge against the pallid radiance, towered a moose bull, with +his great overhanging muzzle uplifted as he peered about him in search +of the utterer of that call.</p> + +<p>The great bull had a noble pair of antlers, a head for any hunter to be +proud of, but Joe Peddler never raised his rifle. Instead of rejoicing +at this response to his deceitful lure, a frown of impatience crossed +his face. The strict New Brunswick game laws allowed but one bull in a +season to fall to the rifle of any one hunter. Joe Peddler was in search +of one particular bull. He had no use for the great beast towering so +arrogantly before him, and nothing was further from his thoughts than to +put a bullet into that wide-antlered head.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;"> +<img src="images/i071.jpg" width="422" height="650" alt="Black and huge against the pallid radiance towered a +moose bull." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Black and huge against the pallid radiance towered a +moose bull.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>The bull was plainly puzzled at finding no cow upon the beach to greet +him, after all those calls. Presently he grew angry, perhaps thinking +that a rival had reached the scene ahead of him. He fell to pawing the +sand with one great, clacking hoof, grunting and snorting so loudly that +any rival within half a mile of the spot would have heard him and +hastened to accept the challenge. Then he strode up to the nearest bush +and began thrashing at it viciously with his antlers.</p> + +<p>The disappointed animal now had his back toward the thicket wherein +Peddler lay hidden. Yielding to his humour, the woodsman once more +lifted the birch-bark tube to his lips, with a sly grin, and gave +another call.</p> + +<p>He was hardly prepared for the effect. The bull wheeled like a flash, +and instantly, with not a half second's hesitation, came charging upon +the thicket at full run.</p> + +<p>The situation was an awkward one, and Peddler cursed himself for a +blundering idiot. He sprang noiselessly to his feet and raised his +rifle. But first he would try an experiment, in the hope of saving the +beast from his bullet.</p> + +<p>"You git out o' that!" he ordered very sharply and clearly. "<i>Git</i>, I +tell ye!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>The bull stopped so abruptly that his hooves ploughed up the sand. +Decidedly there was something very strange about that thicket. First it +gave forth the call of his mate. Then it spoke to him with the voice of +a man. And there was something in that voice that chilled him. While one +might, perhaps, count ten, he stood there motionless, staring at the +inexplicable mass of foliage. The arrogant light in his eyes flickered +down into fear. And then, his heart crumbling with panic, he leapt aside +suddenly with a mighty spring and went crashing off through the woods as +if all the fiends were clawing at his tail.</p> + +<p>Peddler chuckled, stretched himself, and settled down to try his luck +again. For another couple of hours he kept it up patiently, calling at +intervals, and throwing his utmost art into the modulations of the +raucous tube. But never a reply could he charm forth from the moonlit +solitudes. At last he grew intolerably sleepy.</p> + +<p>"Guess old lop-horn must be off on some other beat to-night," he +muttered, getting to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> his feet with a mighty yawn. "It's me fer me +bunk." And with the rifle under one arm, the birch-bark tube under the +other, he strode off down the shining beach to the alder-fringed inlet +where his canoe was hidden.</p> + +<p>As he paddled swiftly through the moonlight down toward the lower end of +the lake, where he had his camp on a high, dry knoll beside the outlet, +Peddler mused upon the object of his quest. It was no ordinary moose, +however noble of antler, that had brought him out here to the remote and +all but unknown tangle of lakes and swamps which formed the source of +the north fork of the Ottanoonsis. This bull, according to the stories +of two Indian trappers, was of a size quite unprecedented in the annals +of the modern moose; and Peddler, who had seen its mighty hoof-prints in +the mud beside the outlet, was quite ready to credit the tale. They were +like the tracks of a prehistoric monster. But it was not for the stature +of him that Peddler was hunting the giant bull. According to the story +of the Indians, the beast's antlers were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> like those of no other +bull-moose ever seen. The right antler was colossal in its reach and +spread, a foot or more, at least, beyond the record, but quite normal in +its shape. The left, on the contrary, was not only dwarfed to less than +half the normal size, but was so fantastically deformed as to grow +downwards instead of upwards. Of a head such as this, Joe Peddler was +determined to possess himself before some invading sportsman from +England or the States should forestall him.</p> + +<p>Arriving at the outlet of the lake, he pulled up the canoe at a natural +grassy landing-place below his camp, and pushed his way some hundred +yards or so along the shore through the bushes to a spring which he had +discovered that morning. Your woodsman will go far out of his way to +drink at a cold spring, having a distaste for the rather vapid water of +the lakes and streams. He threw himself flat upon the stony brink and +reached down his thirsty lips.</p> + +<p>But just as he swallowed the first delicious gulp of coolness, there +came a sudden huge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> crashing in the brushwood behind him. In one breath +he was on his feet. In the next he had cleared the pool in a leap, and +was fleeing madly for the nearest tree, with a moose that looked as big +as an elephant at his heels.</p> + +<p>The nearest tree, a young birch, was not as big as he could have wished, +but he was not taking time just then to pick and choose. He whirled +himself round the trunk, sprang to the first branch, swung up, and +scrambled desperately to gain a safe height. He gained it, but literally +by no more than a hair's breadth. As the black monster reached the tree, +it checked itself abruptly, and in almost the same instant lifted its +right fore-hoof high above its head and struck like a flash at Peddler's +foot just disappearing over a branch. It missed the foot itself, but it +shaved the stout cowhide larrigan that covered the foot, slicing it as +if with a knife. Peddler drew himself farther up and then looked down +upon his assailant with interest.</p> + +<p>"I guess I've found ye all right, old lop-horn," he drawled, and spat +downward, not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> scornfully, but contemplatively, as if in recognition, +upon that strangely stunted and deformed left antler. "But gee! Them +Injuns never said nothin' about yer bein' so black an' so almighty spry. +I wisht, now, ye'd kindly let me go back to the canoe an' git me gun!"</p> + +<p>But any such quixotic courtesy seemed far from the giant's intention. As +soon as he realized that his foe was beyond the reach of striking hoof +or thrusting antler, he set himself, in the pride of his strength and +weight, to the task of pushing the tree over. Treating it as if it were +a mere sapling, he reared himself against it, straddling it with his +fore-legs, and thrust at it furiously in the effort to ride it down. As +the slim young trunk shook and swayed beneath the passion of the +onslaught, Peddler clung to his perch with both arms and devoutly wished +that he had had time to choose a sturdier refuge.</p> + +<p>For perhaps five minutes the giant pushed and battered furiously against +the tree, grunting like a locomotive and tearing up the earth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> in +furrows with his hinder hooves. At length, however, he seemed to +conclude that this particular tree was too strong for him. He backed off +a few yards and stood glaring up at Peddler among the branches, snorting +contemptuously and shaking his grotesquely misshapen antlers as if +daring his antagonist to come down. Peddler understood the challenge +just as clearly as if it had been expressed in plainest King's English.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," said he grimly, "I'll come down all right, bime-by. An' ye +ain't agoin' to like it one leetle bit when I do; now, mind, I'm tellin' +ye!"</p> + +<p>For perhaps a half-hour the giant bull continued to rave and grunt and +paw about the tree with a tireless vindictiveness which filled his +patient prisoner with admiration, and hardened him inexorably in his +resolve to possess himself of that unparalleled pair of antlers. At +last, however, the furious beast stopped short and stood motionless, +listening intently. Peddler wondered what he was listening to. But +presently his own ears also<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> caught it—the faint and far-off call of a +cow-moose from the upper end of the lake. Forgetting his rage against +Peddler, the bull wheeled about with the agility of a cat and went +crashing off up the lake shore as fast as he could run. Stiff and +chilled—for the air of that crisp October night had a searching bite in +it—Peddler climbed down from his perch. First, being tenacious of +purpose, he hurried to the spring and finished his interrupted drink. +Then, returning to the canoe, he stood for a few moments in hesitation. +Should he follow up the trail at once? But it was already near morning, +and he was both dead-tired and famished. He believed that the bull, not +being in any alarm, would not journey far that night after meeting his +mate, but rather would seek some deep thicket for a few hours' sleep. He +picked up the rifle and strode off to his camp, resolved to fortify +himself well for a long trail on the morrow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>Wise though Peddler was in the ways of the wild folk, he found himself +at fault in regard to this particular bull, whose habits seemed to be no +less unique than his stature and his antlers. Taking up the trail soon +after sunrise, he came in due time to the spot, near the head of the +lake, where the bull had joined the calling cow. From this point the +trail of the pair had struck straight back from the lake towards the +range of low hills which formed the watershed between the eastern and +south-westward flowing streams. About noon Peddler came to the place +where the cow, wearied out by so strenuous a pace, had lain down to +sleep in a thicket. The bull, however, driven by his vehement spirit, +had gone on without a pause.</p> + +<p>All day Peddler followed doggedly upon that unwavering trail. He crossed +the ridge, descended to the broken and desolate eastern levels, and +came, towards sunset, upon another wide and tranquil lake. Feeling sure +that his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> quarry, unaware of the pursuit, would linger somewhere about +this pleasant neighbourhood, Peddler found himself a mossy nest on the +cup-shaped top of a boulder and settled down for a couple of hours' +sleep. He little guessed that the bull, having doubled back on a +parallel with his own trail, had been following him stealthily for a +good half hour, not raging now, but consumed with curiosity.</p> + +<p>Just as the moon was rising over the low black skyline, jagged with +fir-tops, Peddler woke up. Creeping through the bushes, he betook +himself to a hiding-place which his quick eye had already marked down, +close to the beach, a roomy, flat ledge at the foot of a rock, with a +screen of young spruce before it. From behind another clump of spruce, +not fifty paces distant, the lop-horned bull, standing moveless as a +dead tree, watched him with an intense and inquiring interest. His fury +of the preceding night, and even the memory of it, seemed to have been +blotted from his mind.</p> + +<p>But when, a few minutes later, from that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> shadowy covert, where he could +just make out the crouching form of the man, the call of a cow breathed +forth upon the stillness, the great bull's eyes and nostrils opened wide +in amazement. What could a moose-cow be thinking about to remain so near +the dangerous neighbourhood of a man? But, no, his eyes assured him that +there was no cow in the man's hiding-place. Where, then, could she be? +He stared around anxiously. She was nowhere in sight. He sniffed the +windless night air. It bore no savour of her. He waved forward his +great, sensitive ears to listen. And again came the call, the voice, +undoubtedly, of the moose-cow.</p> + +<p>There could be no question about it this time. It came from the thicket. +Had there been any least note of fear in that call, the giant bull would +have rushed at once to the rescue of the unseen fair, concluding that +the man had her hidden. But now, the utterance was simply that of an +untroubled cow. Therefore, for the moment, the great bull was chiefly +puzzled. Keeping within the shadows,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> and moving as imperceptibly as if +he were himself but one of the blackest of them, he stole nearer and +nearer yet, till he could plainly see every detail within the man's +hiding-place. There was assuredly nothing there but rock and moss and +bush and the crouching figure of the man himself, staring forth upon the +moonlit beach and holding a curious roll of bark to his mouth. +Nevertheless, in that same moment there came again the hoarse cry of the +cow.</p> + +<p>It came indisputably from that crouching form of a man, from that roll +of bark at the man's mouth.</p> + +<p>This was a mystery, and the wiry black hair along the neck and shoulders +of the bull began to rise ominously. A slow, wondering rage awoke in his +heart. It was that element of wonder alone which for the moment +restrained him from rushing forward and trampling the mysterious cheat +beneath his hooves. A red spark kindled in his eyes.</p> + +<p>All undreaming of the dread watcher so close behind him, Peddler set his +lips to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> lying tube of bark and gave his call again and yet again, +with all the persuasiveness of his backwoods art. He felt sure that his +efforts were convincing. They were, indeed, all of that. They were so +consummate a rendering of the cow-moose's voice that they perfectly +convinced a huge and hungry bear, which was at that moment creeping up +from the other side of the rock upon the unsuspecting hunter's +hiding-place.</p> + +<p>The bear knew that its only chance of capturing so swift and nimble a +quarry as the moose-cow lay in stealing upon her like a cat and taking +her by surprise in one instantaneous rush. He never doubted for a moment +that the cow was there behind the rock. When he was within a dozen feet +of those persuasive sounds, his crouched form suddenly rose up, +elongated itself like a dark and terrible jack-in-the-box, and launched +itself with a swish through the encircling branches.</p> + +<p>Before Peddler's wits had time fully to take in what was happening, his +trained instinct told him what to do. Half rising to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> his feet as he +snatched up his rifle, he swung about and fired from the hip at the +vague but monstrous shape which hung for an instant above him. The shot +went wide, for just as his finger pressed the trigger, a great black paw +smote the weapon from his grasp and hurled it off among the bushes.</p> + +<p>With a contortion that nearly dislocated his neck, Peddler hurled +himself frantically backwards and aside, and so just escaped the +pile-driver descent of the other paw.</p> + +<p>He escaped it for the instant; but in the effort he fell headlong, and +jammed himself in a crevice of the rock so awkwardly that he could not +at once extricate himself. He drew up his legs with an involuntary +shudder, and held his breath, expecting to feel the merciless claws rake +the flesh from his thighs.</p> + +<p>But nothing touched him; and the next moment there broke out an +astounding uproar behind him, a very pandemonium of roars and windy +gruntings, while the crashing of the bushes was as if the forest were +being subdued beneath a steam-roller. Consumed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> with amazement, he +wrenched himself from the crevice and glanced round. The sight that met +his eyes made him clamber hastily to the top of the rock, whence he +might look down from a more or less safe distance upon a duel of giants +such as he had never dared hope to witness.</p> + +<p>When the bear found that it was no cow-moose, but a man that he was +springing upon, he was so taken aback that, for a second or two, he +forbore to follow up his advantage. To those two seconds of hesitation +Joe Peddler owed his escape.</p> + +<p>Before the massive brute, now boiling with rage at having been so +deceived, had sufficiently made up his mind to fall upon that prostrate +figure in the crevice, something that seemed to him like a tornado of +hooves and antlers burst out of the bushes and fell upon him. The next +moment, with a long, red gash half-way down his flank, he was fighting +for his life.</p> + +<p>The gigantic moose had been just upon the verge of rushing in to silence +those incomprehensible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> and deceiving calls, when the towering form of +the bear burst upon his vision. Here at last was something to focus his +wrath. Already angry, but still dampened by bewilderment, his anger now +exploded into a very madness of rage. There was the ancient, inherited +feud between his tribe and all bears. As a youngster, he had more than +once escaped, as by a miracle, from the neck-breaking paw of a bear, had +more than once seen a young cow struck down and ripped to pieces. Now to +this deep-seated hate was added another incentive. His mind confused by +fury to protect his mate, he dimly felt that the mystery which had been +tormenting him was the fault of this particular bear. The man was +forgotten. A cow had been calling to him. She had disappeared. Here was +the bear. The bear had probably done away with the cow. The cow should +be terribly avenged.</p> + +<p>The bear—which was one of the biggest and fiercest of his kind in all +the northern counties—had fought moose, both bulls and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> cows, before. +But he had never before faced such an antagonist as this one, and that +first slashing blow from the bull's knife-edged fore-hoof had somewhat +flurried him. Sitting back poised, with his immense hindquarters +gathered under him, and his fore-paws uplifted, he parried the smashing +strokes of his assailant with the lightning dexterity of a trained +boxer. His strength of shoulder and forearm was so enormous that if he +could have got a stroke in flat, at right angles to the bone, he would +have shattered the bull's leg to splinters. But his parrying blows +struck glancingly, and did no more than rip the hair and hide.</p> + +<p>After a few minutes of whirlwind effort to batter down that impregnable +guard, the bull jumped back as nimbly, for all his bulk, as a young doe +startled from her drinking. His usual method of attack, except when +fighting a rival bull, was to depend upon his battering fore-hooves. But +now he changed his tactics. Lowering his head so that his vast right +antler stood out before him like a charge of bayonets,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> he launched +himself full upon his adversary.</p> + +<p>With all his weight and strength behind it, that charge was practically +irresistible, if fairly faced. But the bear was too wise to face it +fairly. He swung aside, clutched the lowered antler, and held fast, +striving to pull his enemy down.</p> + +<p>But the bull's strength and impetus were too great, and the bear was +himself thrown off his balance. Even then, however, he might probably +have recovered himself and once more established the battle upon even +terms. But he had not reckoned—he could not have been expected to +reckon—upon the unprecedented weapon of that little down-drooping left +antler. Not for nothing was the giant bull lop-horned. The dwarfed and +distorted antler hung down like a plough-share. And the bear attempted +no defence against it. Keen-spiked, it caught him in the belly and +ploughed upward. In a paroxysm he fell backwards. The bull, swinging his +hindquarters around without yielding his advantage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> for a second, lunged +forward with all his force, and the deadly little plough was driven home +to the bear's heart.</p> + +<p>Peddler, from his post on top of the rock, shouted and applauded in wild +excitement, and showered encomiums, no less profane than heartfelt, upon +the victorious bull. For a minute or two the bull paid no attention, +being engrossed in goring and trampling his victim in an effort to make +it look less like a bear than an ensanguined floor-rug. At last, as if +quite satisfied with his triumph, he lifted his gory head and eyed that +voluble figure on top of the rock. It looked harmless.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but ye kin fight!" said Peddler, glowing with admiration. "An' +ye've saved my scalp fer me this night, fer sartain. Guess I'll hev to +let ye keep them lop-sided horns o' yourn, after all!"</p> + +<p>The bull snorted at him scornfully and turned his head to take another +prod at the unresponsive remnants of his foe. Then, paying no further +heed to the man on the rock, and craving assuagement to the fiery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> smart +of his wounds, he strode down into the lake and swam straight out, in +the glitter of the moon-path, toward the black line of the farther +shore.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Aigrette</h2> + + +<p>The Girl, sitting before her dressing-table, looked at the fair +reflection in her great mirror and smiled happily. Those searching +lights at either side of the mirror could find no flaw in the tender +colouring of her face, in the luminous whiteness of neck and arm and +bosom. Her wide-set eyes, like the red bow of her mouth, were kind and +gay. The brightness of her high-coiffed hair was surmounted by a tuft of +straight egret plumes, as firm, pearl-white, and delicate as a filigree +of frost.</p> + +<p>The Girl had never looked so lovely. Never before had she worn anything +that so became her as that ethereal plume. She knew it; and the glances +of her maid, straying from her business with filmy garments and dainty +adornments, told her so. She threw a wisp of silken gossamer over her +arm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> and tripped eagerly down to the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>The Man came forward to meet her, his eyes paying without stint the +tribute she was craving of him.</p> + +<p>"There will be no one there to compare with you!" he said softly. "There +is no one anywhere to compare with you."</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> becoming, isn't it?" she answered, glowing at his praise, and +nodding her bright head to indicate the ethereal white plume.</p> + +<p>"It is indeed," he asserted heartily. "But nothing could heighten your +beauty. You did not need it, and I'm rather afraid the bird did." He +kissed her finger-tips as he spoke, lest she should think he was being +critical.</p> + +<p>The Girl pouted a little, being very tenderhearted, and loth to be +reminded of unpleasant things.</p> + +<p>"I know what you mean," said she quickly, withdrawing her hand in +displeasure. "But the poor bird is dead, anyway; and if I didn't buy the +thing, some other woman would. And it's horrid of you to speak of it +now!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Man laughed.</p> + +<p>"It can't make you more beautiful, but if it makes you happier, that's +quite enough for me," said he. "I'm afraid that a very little pleasure +for you is of more consequence in my eyes than a thousand million +birds."</p> + +<p>And upon this assurance the Girl forgave him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The wide lagoon lay windless, shining like milky-blue glass under the +blaze of the southern sky. It was shallow, its surface broken here and +there with patches of tall gold-green reeds. Its shores seemed half +afloat, fringed as they were with gnarled, squat bushes growing directly +out of the water. This irregular bushy growth, with the green-shadowed +water beneath its branches, stretched back for several hundred yards +from the open lagoon to a dense wall of jungle, a banked mass of +violently green leafage starred with cream-white and crimson bloom.</p> + +<p>Not cream-white, but of a coldly pure silver-white, like new snow, some +two or three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> score long-necked, long-legged birds flapped angularly +between the milky blue of the water and the intense, vibrant blue of the +sky, or stood half-leg deep in the shallows, motionless, watching for +their prey. They looked like bits of a Japanese screen brought to life +and sown broadcast in this sun-steeped southern wilderness. High +overhead, a black speck against the azure, a hawk wheeled slowly in vast +spirals, staring down desirously upon the peaceful lagoon. That peace he +durst not invade, for he knew and feared the lightning strokes of the +long dagger-like beaks of the white egrets.</p> + +<p>In the top of one of the gnarled bushes at the edge of the open, right +over the water, was built a spacious but rickety-looking nest of dead +sticks. It was the most un-nestlike of nests, a mere crazy platform, +with no apparent qualifications as a home except the most perfect +ventilation. One might reasonably suppose that the first requirement in +the nest of a bird should be that it would hold eggs securely. But this +unsightly collection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> of sticks looked as if that was the last thing it +could be depended on to do. It was so loose and open that the eggs ought +to fall through into the water. It was so flat that any eggs which +dodged falling through should surely, according to all known laws of +Nature, be blown off by the first vigorous gust. Nevertheless, it was +clear that the rude structure had held eggs, and proved not unworthy of +its trust, for it was now occupied by four young egrets.</p> + +<p>They were grotesque and solemn babies, these nestlings, sitting up quite +motionless on their leg-joints and half-feathered rumps, with their long +legs thrust straight out before them over the sticks, their long beaks +resting contemplatively on their nearly naked breasts, their round, +bright, unwinking eyes staring out blankly upon their little world of +gold and blue. Scattered here and there over the sweep of fringing +bushes were a dozen or so more of these rickety platforms of sticks, +each with its solemn group of stilt-legged staring young, motionless as +statues interested in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> nothing upon earth save the quantity of fish or +frogs which their untiring parents could supply to their unassuageable +appetites.</p> + +<p>Above this outermost nest, with the four fledglings in it, hung for a +moment, hovering on wide wings, the great white mother egret, with a +shining orange fish in her beak. She dropped her long legs, as if +feeling for a foothold, and alighted on the edge of the crazy platform +so softly that not a stick protested. At her coming four long beaks were +lifted into the air, gaping hungrily and squawking with eagerness. All +four seemed equally ravenous. But the mother-bird knew well enough which +she had fed last, and which was most in need. She jammed the prize, with +what seemed scant ceremony, into the beak whose turn it was to get it. +The fish was thicker than the youngster's long thin neck, but it was +promptly swallowed head first. It went down slowly, with a succession of +spasms which looked agonizing, but were, in fact, ecstatic.</p> + +<p>Before flying off again to resume her quest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> of fish, the mother egret +remained for a few moments on the edge of the nest, to rest and preen +herself. Her snow-pure plumage shone in the sunlight like spun silver. +Her neck feathers were prolonged in fine drooping lines far down over +her breast. From the centre of her back, between the shoulders, grew a +bunch of long, exquisitely delicate plumes, as white and apparently as +fragile as the frost-flowers on a window. These were her festal +adornment, worn, by herself and her mate alike, only in the nesting +season.</p> + +<p>Having preened herself well, and shaken her long, snaky neck as if to +take the kinks out of it, she spread her shining wings and lifted +herself into the air. She rose, however, but a few inches, and then, +flapping and squawking wildly, she was dragged down again by some unseen +force. Her frantic struggles knocked off a corner of the nest, and swept +off one of the awkward nestlings, which fell kicking and sprawling +through the leafage and disappeared with a splash. A moment more and the +mother, for all her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> wild fight against the unseen fate, was drawn down +after him into the shadowed water. Then a little flat-bottomed boat, or +ducking-punt, with a man crouching in the bottom of it, came worming its +way through the narrow lane of water between the stems of the bushes. +The man seized her by the dangerous beak, jerked her into the punt, put +his knee upon her neck, detached the noose of a copper-wire snare from +her leg, drew a keen hunting-knife, and deftly sliced the snowy plumes +from the flesh of her back.</p> + +<p>Then he hurled her out into the open water, that she might not be in his +way while he rearranged the snare upon the edge of the nest in order to +catch her mate.</p> + +<p>Half stunned, and altogether bewildered by her agony, the mother egret +flapped blindly upon the top of the water, her snowy plumage crimsoned +with her life-blood. After a few moments she succeeded in getting into +the air. Flying heavily, and lurching as she went, she flew across the +lagoon, blundered in among the bushes, and fell with her legs in the +water, her twitching wings entangled in the branches. There, after a few +vain struggles, she lay still, dying slowly—very slowly—her beak half +open, but her eyes wide and undaunted.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/i101.jpg" width="411" height="650" alt="The mother egret flapped blindly upon the top of the +water." title="" /> +<span class="caption">The mother egret flapped blindly upon the top of the +water.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>Not long afterwards the male egret, who had been fishing far down the +lagoon, and knew nothing of what had happened, came back to the nest +with food. He, too, was caught in the fatal snare, dragged down, scalped +of his nuptial plumes as the red savage of old scalped his enemies, and +thrown away to die at his leisure. The law of that country forbade the +shooting of the egrets in the nesting season, when alone they wore the +plumes which women crave. The plume-hunter, therefore, felt that he was +evading the law successfully if he hacked the prize from the living bird +and released it while still alive and able to fly. If the bird died +agonizingly afterwards, who was going to swear that he was the slayer?</p> + +<p>Throughout the morning the like swift tragedy was enacted at one nest +after the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> other. The deadly punt slid murderously, silently, up and +down the hidden water-lanes among the bushes, and the man with the knife +did his work noiselessly, save for the threshing and splashing of his +victims.</p> + +<p>In the course of an hour, however, for all the marauder's stealth, the +whole herony was in a state of desperate fear. Half a dozen birds had +been snared, and the others, flying high overhead and staring down with +keen, terrified eyes, had detected the slaughterer in his hiding under +the branches. They had seen him, too, resetting his snares upon the +edges of the nests. And in spite of the fact that, after doing so, he +withdrew to some distance among the bushes—as far as the cords attached +to the snares would permit—they dreaded to approach their nests again. +But there were their younglings, solemn and hungry, quite +uncomprehending of the doom which hung over them, hoarsely and +trustingly petitioning to be fed. The parent birds could not long resist +those appeals. Love and tenderness triumphed over fear, even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> over the +clear view of mortal peril. One after another the great white birds came +back, trembling but devoted, to their nests. One after another, sooner +or later, got a foot into that implacable wire noose, was dragged down +beneath the bushes, and thrown out weltering in its blood. There was no +escaping a trap thus baited with the appeals of the young. And before +the lagoon had taken the first of the sunset colour, there was not one +adult egret in the whole herony which had not paid the bloody price of +its devotion.</p> + +<p>At last, when the lagoon lay like a sheet of burnished copper, the man +with the punt came out boldly from among the bushes and paddled off +toward the outlet with his bleeding trophies. As he vanished, three or +four birds, stronger and more tenacious of life than their fellows, came +flapping back to their nests, their backs and wings and thighs caked +with blood. Swaying as they perched upon the stick platforms, they +managed to feed the nestlings once more. Then, dogged in their devotion, +they flew off to continue their tasks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> They never returned again, but +fell in the shallows where they stood trying to fish: and if the Fates +of the wilderness elected to be merciful, they were drowned quickly.</p> + +<p>All night, through the star-strewn summer dark, the orphaned nestlings +kept up their harshly plaintive cries of hunger and loneliness. A pair +of owls, hearing these cries, and guessing that all could not be right +with the egret colony, came winnowing up noiselessly and took toll of +the defenceless nests. After daybreak, the wheeling hawk dropped low to +investigate, then struck wherever he found the nestlings fattest and +most tempting. Toward noon, under the pitiless downpour of the unclouded +sun, the little ones wilted like cut grass, thirst and hunger stilling +their pitiful complaints. Long before night there was not a nestling +left alive on the whole lagoon.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The Girl, with snowy aigrette in her bright hair, her gloved fingers +resting on the Man's arm, stood upon the kerb outside the theatre, +waiting for a taxi. A light dogcart came by.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> The horse, sleek and +spirited and spoilt, was in wayward humour, and took it into its head to +give its driver trouble. The driver tried to soothe it, but it would not +be soothed. It began backing capriciously. The driver cut it smartly +with his light whip.</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried the Girl, "see how he's beating that poor horse! What a +brute!"</p> + +<p>"It's hurting the horse about as much," said the Man, "as if you struck +it with your fan! Moreover, the horse is behaving very badly, and must +be made to mind. It's endangering the whole traffic."</p> + +<p>The Girl flushed, bit her lip, and withdrew her hand from the Man's arm. +Just then the summoned taxi drew up at the kerb. The Girl stepped in.</p> + +<p>"What brutes men are!" she said. "Perhaps they can't help being cruel! +They have no intuition, so how can they understand?"</p> + +<p>The Man glanced at the aigrette, smiled discreetly, and said nothing.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Cabin in the Flood</h2> + + +<p>Stepping into the cabin, Long Jackson said: "If that there blame jam +don't break inside o' twenty-four hour, the hull valley's goin' to be +under water, an' I'll hev to be gittin' ye out o' this in the canoe. +I've just been uncoverin' her an' rozenin' her up, an' she's as good as +noo. That's a fine piece o' winter bark ye put on to her, Tom."</p> + +<p>From his bunk in the dark corner beyond the stove, Brannigan lifted his +shaggy face and peered wistfully out into the sunshine with sunken but +shining eyes.</p> + +<p>"I was <i>afeard</i> there'd be a powerful freshet after this long spell o' +thaw atop of all that rain, Long, an' the snow layin' so deep in the +woods this winter. I wisht ye'd lug me over an' lay me by the door in +the sun fer a bit, Long, ef 'tain't too much trouble. That 'ere sun'll +put new life into me bones, in case the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> jam <i>don't</i> break, an' we hev +to git a move on."</p> + +<p>After this long speech, Brannigan's head dropped wearily back on the +roll of blanket that served him as pillow. He had been desperately ill +with pneumonia, so ill that it had been impossible for Long Jackson to +go in to the Settlements for a doctor; and now, under Jackson's +assiduous nursing, he was just beginning the slow climb back to life.</p> + +<p>"Think 'twon't be too cold fer ye by the door?" queried Jackson +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" protested Brannigan. "It's the sun I'm wantin', and the smell +o' spring stirrin' in the buds. That's the med'cine fer me now, Long."</p> + +<p>Long Jackson grumbled doubtfully, holding to the strange back-country +superstition that fresh air is dangerous for sick folk. But he yielded, +as he usually did where Brannigan was concerned. He spread blankets on +the floor by the door—a little to one side to avoid the draught—then +carried his partner's gaunt form over to them, and rolled him up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> like a +baby, with his head well propped on a pile of skins. Then he seated +himself on the chopping-log just outside the door, and proceeded to fill +his pipe with that moist, black plug tobacco, good alike for smoking and +for chewing, which is chiefly favoured by the backwoodsman. Brannigan's +face, drinking in the sunshine as a parched lawn drinks rain, freshened +and picked up a tinge of colour. His eyes, long weary of the four grey +walls of the cabin, roved eagerly the woods that fringed the tiny +clearing.</p> + +<p>"Anyways," said Long Jackson between puffs, as he sucked the damp +tobacco alight, "this here knoll of ourn's the highest bit o' country +fer ten miles round, and the cabin's on the highest p'int of it. 'Tain't +raly likely the water'll come clean over it, ef the jam <i>don't</i> give +inside o' twenty-four hour. But it makes one feel kind o' safe havin' +the canoe ready."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's the highest bit o' country fer miles round," murmured +Brannigan dreamily, soaking in the sun. "An' I'm thinkin' we ain't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> the +only ones as knows it, Long. Will ye look at them rabbits down yander? +Did ever ye see so many o' them together afore?"</p> + +<p>Jackson looked, and involuntarily laid his pipe down on the log beside +him to look again. The woods far down the slope—it was a slope so +gentle as to be hardly perceptible—were swarming with rabbits, hopping +and darting this way and that over the snow. For the snow still lingered +under the trees, though only a few patches of it, yellowing and +shrinking under the ardent sun, remained in the open of the clearing.</p> + +<p>After staring for some moments in silence, Jackson took up his pipe +again.</p> + +<p>"The water must be risin' mighty quick," said he. "Them rabbits are +gittin' sociable all of a sudden. They're comin' to pay ye a call, Tom, +this bein' yer fust day up."</p> + +<p>"We'll be havin' other callers besides rabbits, I'm thinkin'," said +Brannigan, the dreaminess in his voice and eyes giving way to a pleased +excitement. This was better than his bunk in the dark corner of the +cabin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> "What's that, now, way down behind them yaller birch trunks?" he +added eagerly. "I guess it's a bear, Long."</p> + +<p>"It's two bear," corrected Jackson. "So long as it's jest rabbits, all +right, but we ain't entertainin' bears this mornin'. Grub's too scarce, +an' bears is hungry this time o' year. Gee! There's two more down by the +spring. Guess I'd better git the gun."</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit, Long," expostulated Brannigan. "They're so afeard o' the +water, they'll be harmless as the rabbits. No good shootin' 'em now, +when their pelts ain't worth the skinnin'. Let 'em be, an' see what +they'll do. They hain't got no place else to go to, to git out o' the +water."</p> + +<p>"Let 'em climb a tree!" grumbled Jackson. But he sat down again on his +log. "Ye're right, anyhow, Tom," he continued, after a moment's +consideration. "What's the good o' spilin' good skins by shootin' 'em +now? An' if they're not too skeered to death to know they're hungry, +they kin eat the rabbits. An', anyhow, the ca'tridges is pretty nigh +gone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> Come along, Mr. Bear, an' bring yer wife an' all yer relations!"</p> + +<p>As if in response to this invitation, the bears all moved a little +nearer, whining uneasily and glancing back over their shoulders, and +close behind them could now be seen gleams of the swiftly up-creeping +flood, where the sunlight struck down upon it through the leafless +hardwood trees. But around to the left and the rear of the cabin the +trees were dense evergreens, spruce and fir, beneath whose shade the +flood came on unseen.</p> + +<p>As the worried bears approached, the belt of rabbits swarmed out along +the edges of the clearing, the hinder ranks pushing forward the +reluctant front ones. These, fearing the open and the human form sitting +before the cabin, tried to regain shelter by leaping back over the heads +of those who thrust them on. But far more than that unmoving human +figure they feared the whimpering bears and the silent, pursuing flood. +So in a very few minutes the rabbits were all in the open, hopping about +anxiously and waving their long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> ears, a few of the bolder ones even +coming up to within forty or fifty feet of the cabin to stare curiously +at Long Jackson on his log.</p> + +<p>Presently from behind the cabin, stepping daintily, with heads held high +and wide nostrils sniffing the air apprehensively, came two young does, +and stopped short, glancing back and forth from Jackson to the bears, +from the bears to Jackson. After a few seconds' hesitation, they seemed +to make up their minds that they liked Jackson better than the bears, +for they came a few steps nearer and looked timidly in at Brannigan.</p> + +<p>"This ain't North Fork Valley, Long. It's Barnum's Menagerie, that's +what it's gittin' to be!" remarked Brannigan, speaking softly, lest he +should alarm the does.</p> + +<p>"Ay, an' still they come!" said Jackson, pointing with his pipe down the +slope to the right. Brannigan lifted his head and craned his neck to see +who "they" were.</p> + +<p>They were a huge bull-moose, followed by three cows and a couple of +yearlings, who crowded close upon their leader's heels as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> they caught +sight of the bears. The great bull, though without antlers at this +season, haughtily ignored the bears, who, as he well knew, would have +small inclination to venture within reach of his battering hoofs. The +little herd had been swimming. With dripping flanks, they stalked up +through the trees and out into the clearing, the swarm of rabbits +parting before them like a wave. At sight of Jackson on his log, the +bull stopped and stood staring morosely. He was not afraid of bears, but +men were another matter. After a heavy pondering of the situation, he +led the way across the corner of the clearing, then down into the flood +again and off, heading for the uplands at the foot of the valley, some +five or six miles away.</p> + +<p>"He don't seem to like the looks o' ye, Long," murmured Brannigan.</p> + +<p>"No more'n I do his'n," answered Jackson. "But I guess he'd 'a' been +welcome to stop, seein' as we ain't standin' on ceremony, an' our cards +is out to everybody. Come one, come all! But, no, I bar Mr. and Mrs. +Skunk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> Ye're a soft-hearted old eejut, Tom, an' never like to hurt +nobody's feelin's, but I do hope now ye didn't go an' send cards to Mr. +and Mrs. Skunk."</p> + +<p>Brannigan chuckled. He was feeling better and more like himself already.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe they'll be comin'," he answered, evading the point of +the invitation. "Like as not, they're cut off in their holes an' +drownded, 'less they've took to the trees in time. They ain't no great +travellers, ye know, Long."</p> + +<p>"I ain't puttin' on no mournin' fer 'em," grunted Jackson. "An' there's +another varmint ye hadn't no call to invite, Tom," he added, as the +rabbits again scattered in consternation, and a big lynx emerged from a +spruce thicket on which the flood was just beginning to encroach. The +lynx, too frightened at the rising water to give even one look at the +rabbits, glared about her with round, pale, savage eyes. As she caught +sight of Jackson, her fur fluffed up and she scrambled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> into the nearest +tree, where she crouched behind a branch.</p> + +<p>Brannigan spared but a glance for the terrified lynx, his interest being +largely absorbed in the two does, whose trustfulness had won his heart. +Just inside the cabin door, and within reach of his arm, was a shelf, +whereon stood a tin plate containing some cold buckwheat pancakes, or +flap-jacks, left over from breakfast. A couple of these he tossed to the +does. Gentle as was the action, the nervous beasts bounded backwards, +snorting with apprehension. In a few moments, however, as if coming to +realize that the movement of Brannigan's arm had not been a hostile one, +they came forward again hesitatingly, and at length began to sniff at +the pancakes. For some moments the sniffing was distinctly supercilious. +Then one of them ventured to nibble. Half a minute more, and both +flap-jacks had been greedily gobbled. Their immense, mild eyes plainly +asking for more of the novel provender, the pair stepped a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +closer. Brannigan reached for another cake, to divide between them.</p> + +<p>Long Jackson got up from his log, tapped the ashes from his pipe, and +came into the cabin.</p> + +<p>"I'll be leavin' ye to entertain the ladies, Tom," said he, "while I git +dinner."</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>A cloud passing over the sun, the air grew sharply cold on the instant. +Long Jackson bundled Brannigan away from the door, and shut it +inexorably. But as Brannigan refused to be put back into his bunk, +Jackson arranged him an awkward sort of couch of benches and boxes by +the table, where he made his first "sitting-up" meal. After dinner, the +sun having come out again, he insisted upon the door being once more +thrown open, that he might drink in the medicine of the spring air and +have another look at his menagerie.</p> + +<p>"Holy Je-hoshaphat!" exclaimed Jackson,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> as the door swung back. "This +ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's a Noah's Ark, that's what +it be!"</p> + +<p>The two does, trembling with fright, were huddled against the wall of +the cabin, close beside the door, staring at an immense and gaunt-framed +bear, which was sitting up on its haunches on Jackson's chopping-block. +More than half the clearing was under water. Five more bears sat near +the chopping-block, eyeing the water fearfully and whimpering like +puppies. Quite near them, and letting his shrewd eyes survey the whole +scene with an air of lofty indifference, sat a red fox, his fur +bedraggled as if from a long and hard swim. In two compact masses, on +either side of the bears and the fox, and as far away from them as they +could get, huddled the rabbits, their eyes fairly popping from their +heads. Further away, standing hock-deep in the water, were half a dozen +more red deer, afraid to come any closer to the bears. In the branches +of the one tree—a spreading rock-maple—which had been left standing +near the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> cabin, crouched a lynx and a wild-cat, as far apart as +possible, and eyeing each other jealously.</p> + +<p>One of the bears, restless in his anxiety, shifted his position and came +a little nearer to the cabin. The two does, snorting at his approach, +backed abruptly into the doorway, jamming Jackson against the doorpost.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't mind me, ladies!" said Jackson, with elaborate sarcasm. "Come +right along in an' set down!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon the frightened animals, flying in the face of that tradition +of the wild creatures which teaches them to dread anything like a +<i>cul-de-sac</i>, took him at his word. Stamping their delicate hoofs in a +sort of timorous defiance to the bears, and ignoring both Jackson and +Brannigan completely, they backed into the rear of the cabin, stared +about the place curiously, and at length fell to nibbling the hay which +formed the bedding of the bunks.</p> + +<p>"Did ever ye see the likes o' that for nerve?" demanded Jackson.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"> +<img src="images/i121.jpg" width="419" height="650" alt=""This ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's a +Noah's Ark, that's what it be!"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"This ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's a +Noah's Ark, that's what it be!"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They've got sense, them two," said Brannigan. "They know who'll stand +up fer 'em if them bears begin to git ugly."</p> + +<p>"But we don't want the whole kit an' calabash pilin' in on us," said +Jackson with decision. "An' we don't want to shet the door and not be +able to see what's goin' on, neether. Guess I'd better fix up a kind o' +barricade, so's I kin hold the pass in case of them there fee-rocious +rabbits undertakin' to rush us."</p> + +<p>With a bench and some boxes, he built a waist-high barrier across the +doorway, and then he arranged for Brannigan a couch on the table, so +that the invalid could look out comfortably over the barrier.</p> + +<p>"Reserved seat in Noah's Ark for ye, Tom," said he.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't ye better be fetchin' the canoe round to the front, where ye kin +keep an eye onto it?" suggested Brannigan.</p> + +<p>"By Jing, yes!" agreed Jackson. "If one of them slick old bears 'd take +a notion to h'ist it into the water an' make off in it, I guess we'd be +in the porridge."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>He hitched his long legs over the barrier and stalked out coolly among +the beasts.</p> + +<p>The wild-cat and the lynx in the branches overhead laid back their ears +and showed their teeth in vicious snarls; and the rabbits huddled so +close together that the two packs of them heaved convulsively as each +strove to get behind or underneath his neighbours. The bears sullenly +drew away to the water's edge, and the huge fellow perched on the +chopping-block jumped down nimbly from his perch and joined the others +with a protesting <i>woof</i>. The fox stood his ground and kept up his air +of indifference, his native shrewdness telling him that the man was +paying no heed to him whatever. The deer also did not seem greatly +disturbed by Jackson's appearance, merely waving their big ears and +staring interrogatively. Jackson picked up the canoe and turned it +bottom side up across the doorway. Then he stepped indoors again.</p> + +<p>About the middle of the afternoon it became evident that the water had +stopped rising. It had apparently found an overflow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> somehow, and there +was no longer any risk of the cabin being swept away. Tired with the +excitement, Brannigan fell asleep. And Jackson, with the backwoodsman's +infinite capacity for doing nothing, when there is nothing to do, sat +beside his barricade for hour after hour and smoked. And for hour after +hour nothing happened. When night fell, he shut the door and secured it +with special care.</p> + +<p>Throughout the night it rained heavily, under a lashing wind which drove +the rain in sheets against the rear of the cabin; but soon after dawn +the sun came out again and shone with eager warmth. Brannigan awoke so +much better that he was able to sit up and help himself to the doorway +instead of being carried. The two does, thoroughly at home in the cabin, +swallowed the cold pancakes, and kept close to Jackson's elbow, begging +for more.</p> + +<p>When the door was opened, it was seen that the animals had all been +driven round to the front of the cabin for shelter. The space<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> under the +upturned canoe was packed with rabbits. But the spirit of the bigger +animals, with the exception of the deer, was now changed.</p> + +<p>Since the rise of the flood had come to a halt—for the water was at the +same mark as on the afternoon of the previous day—the predatory animals +had begun to forget their fear of it and to remember that they were +hungry. The truce of terror was wearing very thin. The fox, indeed, as +Jackson's alert eyes presently perceived, had already broken it. At the +very edge of the water, as far away as possible from the cabin and the +bears, he was sitting up demurely on his haunches and licking his chaps. +But a tell-tale heap of bones and blood-stained fur gave him away. In +the darkness he had stolen up to the rabbits, nipped one noiselessly by +the neck, and carried it off without any of its fellows being any the +wiser. He could afford to wait with equanimity for the flood to go down.</p> + +<p>The lynx had come down out of her tree<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> and was crouching at the foot of +it, eyeing first the bears and then the rabbits. She turned her +tameless, moon-pale eyes upon Jackson in the doorway, and bared her +teeth in a soundless snarl. Jackson, wondering what she was up to, kept +perfectly still. The next moment she darted forward, belly to earth, and +pounced upon the nearest rabbit. The victim screamed amazingly loud, and +the packed mass of its companions seemed to boil as they trampled each +other underfoot. Growling harshly, the lynx sprang back to the tree with +her prey, ran up the trunk with it, and crouched in a crotch to make her +meal, keeping a malignant and jealous eye upon the wild-cat on her +neighbouring branch.</p> + +<p>As if fired by this example, one of the bears made a rush upon the +luckless rabbits. He struck down two with a deft stroke of his paw, +dashed them to one side to remove them from the too close proximity of +Jackson, and lay down comfortably to devour them.</p> + +<p>At this second attack, the unfortunate rabbits seemed to wake up to the +necessity of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> doing something radical. Two or three of those nearest the +cabin made a sudden dart for the door. They jumped upon the upturned +canoe, stared fearfully for an instant at Jackson, then leapt past him +over the barrier and took refuge in the farthest corner of the cabin, +under the bunk. Jackson, according to his prearranged plan, had made an +effort to stop them, but it was a half-hearted effort, and he shook his +head at Brannigan with a deprecating grin.</p> + +<p>"<i>'Tain't</i> exackly healthy for the blame little scuts, out there with +the bear an' the wild-cats," said he apologetically. Jackson was quite +ready to shoot rabbits, of course, when they were needed for stew; but +his soft, inconsistent heart had been moved at seeing the helpless +things mangled by the lynx and the bear. Perfect consistency, after all, +would be an unpleasant thing to live with in this excellent but +paradoxical world.</p> + +<p>The words were hardly out of Jackson's mouth when the rest of the bears +came stalking up, great, black, menacing forms, to levy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> toll upon the +rabbits. Instantly the frantic little animals began pouring in a +tumultuous stream over the canoe and the barrier and into the cabin. +Seeing their dinners thus unexpectedly disappearing, the bears made a +rush forward.</p> + +<p>Jackson, fearing lest they should charge straight into the cabin, sprang +for his gun, and was back in the doorway again in a flash, carelessly +thrusting aside with his feet the incoming flood of furry, hopping +figures, but making no effort to keep it out.</p> + +<p>The bears, reaching the packed and struggling rear rank of the fugitives +before it could dissolve and gain the refuge, captured each a victim, +and drew back again hastily with their prizes, still apprehensive of the +silent grey figure of Jackson in the doorway. And in two minutes more +all the rabbits were inside the cabin, covering the floor and struggling +with each other to keep from being pushed too close to the hot stove. +The two does, resenting the invasion, snorted angrily and struck at them +with their sharp, agile hoofs,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> killing several before the rest learned +to keep out of the way. One enterprising little animal sprang into the +lower bunk, and was straightway followed by the nearest of his fellows, +till the bunk was filled to overflowing.</p> + +<p>"How'll ye like it, sleepin' along o' that bunch o' bed-fellers, Tom?" +inquired Jackson derisively.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll sleep with 'em yourself, Long," retorted Brannigan from his place +on the table. "<i>I</i> didn't let 'em in. They're <i>your</i> visitors. Me bein' +an invalid, I'm goin' to take the top bunk!"</p> + +<p>Long Jackson scratched his head.</p> + +<p>"What's botherin' me," said he, grown suddenly serious, "is them bears. +If <i>they</i> take it into their heads to come in an' board along of us, I'm +goin' to hev a job to stop 'em. I've only four ca'tridge left, an' +ther's six bear. They've et ther rabbits, an' what's one small rabbit to +a <i>rale</i> hungry bear? Here's the biggest an' hungriest comin' now! +<i>Scat!</i>" he yelled fiercely. "Scat! You——!" And he added a string of +backwoods objurgation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> that this modest page would never consent to +record.</p> + +<p>Apparently abashed at this reception, the bear backed away hastily and +glanced around at the landscape as if he had had no least thought of +intruding.</p> + +<p>Brannigan laughed as he had not laughed for weeks.</p> + +<p>"That langwidge o' yourn's better'n any gun, Long!" said he.</p> + +<p>"Guess it's saved us one ca'tridge, that time!" he acknowledged +modestly. "But I'm thinkin' it won't keep 'em off when they get a mite +hungrier. Ye kin curse like an Androscoggin lumber jack, but y'ain't +goin' to frizzle a single hair on a bear's hide. Now, here they come +agin! I'd better shoot one, an' mebbe that'll discourage 'em. Anyhow, +they kin eat the one I shoot, and that'll keep 'em from hankerin' so +after rabbits."</p> + +<p>He raised his gun, but Brannigan stopped him sharply.</p> + +<p>"Jest <i>shet the door</i>, ye old eejut!" he cried. "Ye know as well as I do +that ef ye git a bear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> rale mad, an' he thinks he's cornered, there's +goin' to be trouble. Jest shet the door, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"<i>To</i> be sure! Why didn't I think o' that afore?" agreed Jackson, +kicking the boxes aside and slamming the heavy door without ceremony in +the face of the nearest bear, who had already lifted his fore-paws upon +the canoe and was peering in wistfully at the rabbits.</p> + +<p>With his feet in a foam of rabbits—the creatures seeming to have lost +all fear of him—Jackson sat down on a box and lit his pipe, while +Brannigan, leaning over from his couch on the table, tried to feed the +rabbits with biscuits. The rabbits would have none of it, but the two +does, greedy and jealous, came mincing forward at once to appropriate +the attention and the tit-bits.</p> + +<p>Presently the air grew unbearably hot and close, with the reek of the +crowding animals and the heat of the stove. After the fashion of the +backwoodsman, the men endured it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> till they were gasping. Then Jackson +went to the little window—which was not made to open—and prised out +the sash with the edge of his axe-blade. He filled his lungs with a deep +breath, drew back from the window, then sprang forward again and thrust +his head out for a better look.</p> + +<p>"<i>It's broke!</i>" he shouted. "The water's goin' down hand over fist!"</p> + +<p>"It'll save a lot o' trouble," said Brannigan, with a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>By noon the water had disappeared, and the bears, the wild-cat, and the +fox had disappeared with it. After waiting another hour, that the hungry +beasts might be well out of the way, Jackson opened the door and began +to turn the rabbits out. At first they refused obstinately to go, so +that he had to seize them by the ears and throw them out. But presently +some sign seemed to go round among them to the effect that their enemies +were out of the way. Then they all began to make for the door, but quite +at their leisure, and soon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> were hopping off among the trees in every +direction. After them at last, went the two does, without so much as +once looking back.</p> + +<p>"Durned if the place don't look kind o' lonesome without 'em!" murmured +Brannigan.</p> + +<p>"Umph!" grunted Jackson. "It's easy seein' 'tain't you that's got to do +the cleanin' up after 'em. If ever ye go to hev another party like that, +Tom, I'm goin' to quit."</p> + +<p>The spring wind, mild and spicy from the spruce forests, breathed +through the cabin from the open door to the open window, and a chickadee +ran over his fine-drawn, bead-like refrain from the branches where the +lynx and wild-cat had been crouching.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Brothers of the Yoke</h2> + + +<p>Side by side, in the position in which they were accustomed to labour at +the yoke—Star on the off side, Buck on the nigh—they stood waiting in +the twilight beside the pasture bars. From the alder swamp behind the +pasture, coolly fragrant under the first of the dew-fall, came the +ethereal fluting of a hermit thrush, most tender and most poignant of +all bird songs. In the vault of the pale sky—pale violet washes of thin +colour over unfathomable deeps of palest green—a wide-swooping +night-hawk sounded at intervals its long, twanging note, like a stricken +harpstring. The dark spruce woods beyond the barn began to give off +their aromatic balsam-scent upon the evening air. A frog croaked from +somewhere under the alders where the hermit was at his fluting. One of +the oxen at last began to low softly and anxiously. It was long past<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +watering-time. Immediately his mate repeated the complaint, but on a +harsher, more insistent key. The watering trough, full to the brim, was +there in full view before them, just at the other side of the cabin. It +was an unheard-of thing that their master should not come at sundown to +lower the bars and let them drink their fill.</p> + +<p>They were a splendid pair, these two steers, and splendidly matched. +Both dark red, deep and massive in the shoulder, with short, straight +horns, and each with a clean white star in the centre of his broad +forehead, they were so exactly alike in all external particulars, that +the uninitiated eye would have been puzzled to distinguish them. Both +stood also with the patient, bowed necks of those who have toiled long +under the burden of the yoke. But to one at all acquainted with animals, +at all versed in the psychology of the animal mind, the difference +between the two was obvious. The temperaments that looked out from their +big, dark eyes were different. The very patience of their bowed heads +was different in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> expression. The patience of Star, the off ox, was an +accepting, contented patience. Curses, blows, the jabs of the ox-goad, +he took mildly, as a matter of course, and, being his master's +favourite, he got just as few of them as the exigencies of backwoods +ploughing and hauling would permit. But with Buck it was far otherwise. +In his eyes flickered always the spark of a spirit unsubdued. He had a +side glance, surly yet swift, that put the observant on their guard. He +never accepted the goad without a snort of resentment, a threatening +shake of his short, sharp horns. And he had command of a lightning kick +which had taught discretion to more than one worrying cur. Yet he was +valued, even while distrusted, by his owner, because he was intelligent, +well-trained, and a glutton for work, both quicker than his docile +yoke-fellow and more untiring.</p> + +<p>Between the two great red steers there was that close attachment which +has been so often observed between animals long accustomed to working in +the same harness. They become a habit to each other, and seem, +therefore, essential<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> to each other's peace of mind. But on the part of +Buck it was something more than this. Ill-tempered and instinctively +hostile toward every one else, man or beast, he showed signs of an +active devotion to his tranquil yoke-fellow, and would sometimes spend +hours licking Star's neck while the latter went on chewing the cud in +complacent acceptance of the attention.</p> + +<p>The twilight gathered deeper about the lonely backwoods clearing. The +night-hawk, a soaring and swooping speck in the pallid spaces of the +sky, became invisible, though his strange note still twanged sonorously +from time to time. The hermit hushed his fluting in the alder thicket. +An owl hooted solemnly from somewhere back in the spruce woods. But +still the owner of the oxen did not come to lower the bars and give +admittance to the brimming trough. He was lying dead beside the brawling +trout-brook, a mile or so down the tote-road, his neck broken by a +flying branch from a tree which he had felled too carelessly. His dog +was standing over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> sprawled body, whining and pawing at it in +distracted solicitude.</p> + +<p>To the two thirsty oxen the cool smell of the waiting trough was cruelly +tantalizing. To one of them it speedily became irresistible. Buck was +not, by instinct, any great respecter of bounds or barriers. He began +hooking impatiently at the bars, while Star gazed at him in placid +wonder. The bars were solid and well set, and Buck seemed to realize +almost at once that there was little to be done in that quarter. Feeling +for a weak spot, he worked his way along beyond them to the first panel +of the fence. It was the ordinary rough "snake" of the backwoods +clearing, a zigzag structure of rough poles, supported at the angles by +crossed stakes. Never very substantial, it had been broken and somewhat +carelessly mended at this particular point. The top rail lifted easily +under the thrust of Buck's aimlessly tossing horn. It fell down again at +once into its place in the crotch of the crossed stakes, and, in +falling, it struck the fumbling experimenter a sharp whack across the +nose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>The hot-tempered steer, already irritated, flared up at once, and butted +heavily at the fence with his massive forehead. One of the cross-stakes, +already half-rotted through, broke at once, and the two top rails went +down with a crash. Following up this push, he threw his ponderous weight +against the remaining rails, now left unsupported, breasted them down +almost without an effort, and went crashing and triumphing through into +the yard. His mate, who would never himself have dreamed of such a +venture as breaking bounds, stared irresolutely for a few seconds, then +followed through the gap. And side by side the two slaked their thirst, +plunging their broad muzzles into the cool of the trough and lifting +them to blow the drops luxuriously from their nostrils.</p> + +<p>The impulse of Star was now to turn back into the familiar pasture, +according to custom. But Buck, on the other hand, was used to being +<i>driven</i> back and that always more or less under protest. For the first +time in his memory, there was now no one to drive him back. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> had a +strange, new sense of freedom, of restraint removed. He was accustomed +to seeing a light in the cabin window about this hour. But there was no +light. The whole place seemed empty with a new kind of emptiness. +Nothing was further from his fancy than to return to the pasture prison +which he had just broken out of. He stood with head uplifted, as if +already the galling memory of the yoke had slipped from off his neck.</p> + +<p>For a minute or two he stood sniffing with wide nostrils, drinking deep +the chill, keen-scented air. It was the same air as he had been +breathing on the other side of the pasture-bars, but it smelt very +different to him. Something there was in it which called him away +irresistibly into the dark, unfenced depths of the forest which +surrounded the clearing. He turned his great head and lowed coaxingly to +his partner, who was standing beside the gap in the pasture fence and +staring after him in placid question. Then he started off with a brisk +step down the shadowy, pale ribbon of the road.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>Star's natural impulse, after drinking, was to return to the familiar, +comfortable pasture; but not without his yoke-mate. The stronger impulse +ruled. With some reluctance and a good deal of bovine wonder, he swung +around and hastened after Buck. The latter waited for him; and side by +side, as if in yoke, though with less labouring steps, they turned off +the deeply rutted highway and moved silently down a mossed old wood road +into the glimmering dark of the forest.</p> + +<p>A sure instinct in Buck's feet was leading them straight away from the +Settlements, straight into the heart of the wilderness. After perhaps an +hour the wood-road led out of the thick forest across a little wild +meadow with a shallow brook babbling softly through it. Here the two +grazed for a time, almost belly deep in the thick-flowered grass, while +the bats flickered and zigzagged above them, and a couple of +whip-poor-wills answered each other monotonously from opposite ends of +the glade. Then they lay down side by side to chew the cud and to sleep, +surrounded by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> the pungent smell of the stalks of the wild parsnip which +their huge bulks had crushed down.</p> + +<p>They lay in a corner of the glade, close to the dense thickets that +formed the fringe of the woods. Unaccustomed to vigilance, neither their +eyes nor their ears were on the alert. A lynx crept up behind them, +within a dozen paces, glared at them vindictively with its pale, +malignant moon-eyes, and then ran up a tree to get a better look at +these mighty intruders upon his hunting-ground. His claws made a loud +rattling on the bark as he climbed, but neither of the oxen paid any +attention whatever to the sound. Of course, a lynx could not, under any +circumstances, be anything more than an object of mild curiosity to +them, but had it been a pair of hungry panthers, they would have been +equally unconscious and unwarned. They lay with their backs to the +forest, looking out across the open, chewing lazily, and from time to +time heaving windy breaths of deep content. Not a score of yards before +their noses a trailing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> weasel ran down and killed a hare. At the cry of +the victim Buck opened his half-closed eyes and gave a snort of +disapproval. But Star paid no attention whatever to the little tragedy. +All his faculties were engrossed upon his comfort and his cud.</p> + +<p>A little later a prowling fox came suddenly upon them. He was surprised +to find the pair so far from their pasture, where he had several times +observed them in the course of his wide wanderings. His shrewd mind +jumped to the idea that perhaps the settler, their master, was out with +them; and while he had no objection whatever to the oxen—stupid, +harmless hulks in his eyes—he had the most profound objection to their +master and his gun. He slipped back into cover, encircled the whole +glade stealthily till he picked up their trail, and satisfied himself +that they had come alone. Then he returned and sat down on his tail +deliberately in front of them, cocking his head to one side, as if +inviting them to explain their presence.</p> + +<p>Star returned his gaze with placid indifference,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> but Buck was annoyed. +In his eyes the fox was a little sharp-nosed dog with a bushy tail and +an exasperating smell. He hated all dogs, but especially little ones, +because they were so elusive when they yapped at his heels. He heaved +himself up with an angry snort, and charged upon the intruder. The fox, +without losing his dignity at all, seemed to drift easily out of reach, +to this side or that, till the ox grew tired of the futile chase. +Moreover, as the fox made no sound and no demonstration of +heel-snapping, Buck's anger presently faded out, and he returned to his +partner's side and lay down again. And the fox, his curiosity satisfied, +trotted away.</p> + +<p>A little later there came a stealthy crashing through the darkness of +the underbush in the rear. But the two oxen never turned their heads. To +them the ominous sound had no significance whatever. A few paces behind +them the crashing came to a sudden stop. A bear, lumbering down toward +the brook-side, to grub in the soft earth for edible roots, had caught +the sound of their breathing and chewing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> He knew the sound, for he, +too, like the fox, had prowled about the pasture fence at night. As +noiselessly as a shadow he crept nearer, till he could make out the +contented pair. He knew they belonged to the man, and it made him uneasy +to see them there, so far from where they belonged. He sniffed the air +cautiously, to see if the man was with them. No, the man was not there, +that was soon obvious. He had no thought of attacking them; they were +much too formidable to be meddled with. But why were they there? The +circumstance was, therefore, dangerous. Perhaps the man was designing +some sort of trap for him. He drew back cautiously, and made off by the +way he had come. He had a wholesome respect for the man, and for all his +works and belongings.</p> + +<p>In the first, mysterious, glassy grey of dawn, when thin wisps of vapour +clung curling among the grass-tops, the two wanderers got up and fell to +grazing. Then Star, who was beginning to feel homesick for old pasture +fields, strayed away irresolutely toward the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> road for home. Buck, +however, would have none of it. He marched off toward the brook, +splashed through, and fell to pasturing again on the farther side. Star, +not enduring to be left alone, immediately joined him.</p> + +<p>That day the pair pressed onward, deeper and deeper into the wilds, Buck +ever eager on the unknown quest, Star ever reluctant, but persuaded. As +a matter of fact, had Star been resolute enough in his reluctance, had +he had the independence to lie down and refuse to go farther, he would +have gained the day, for Buck would never have forsaken him. But +initiative ruled inertia, as is usually the case, and Buck's adventuring +spirit had its way.</p> + +<p>It was a rugged land, but hospitable enough to the wanderers in this +affluent late June weather, through which Buck so confidently led the +way. The giant tangle of the forest was broken by frequent wild meadows, +and foaming streams, and lonely little granite-bordered lakes, and +stretches of sun-steeped barren, all bronze green with blueberry scrub. +There was plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> when the flies and the +heat grew troublesome, it was pleasant to wallow in the cold, +amber-brown pools. Even Star began to forget the home pasture, and +content himself with the freedom which he had never craved.</p> + +<p>How far and to what goal the urge in Buck's untamed heart would have +carried them before exhausting itself, there is no telling. But he had +challenged without knowledge the old, implacable sphinx of the +wilderness. And suddenly, to his undoing, the challenge was accepted.</p> + +<p>On the third day of their wanderings the pair came out upon a river too +deep and wide for even Buck's daring to attempt to cross. The banks were +steep—a succession of rocky bluffs, broken by deep lateral bayous, and +strips of interval meadows where brooks came in through a fringe of +reeds and alders. Buck turned northward, following the bank up stream, +sometimes close to the edge, sometimes a little way back, wheresoever +the easier path or the most tempting patches of pasturage might seem to +lead. He was searching always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> for some feasible crossing, for his +instinct led him always to get over any barrier. That his path toward +the west had been barred only confirmed him in his impulse to work +westward.</p> + +<p>Late that afternoon, as they burst out, through thick bushes, into a +little grassy glade, they surprised a bear-cub playing with a big yellow +fungus, which he boxed and cuffed about—carefully, so as not to break +his plaything—as a kitten boxes a ball. To Buck, of course, the playful +cub was only another dog, which might be expected to come yapping and +snapping at his heels. With an indignant snort he charged it.</p> + +<p>The cub, at that ominous sound, looked up in astonishment. But when he +saw the terrible red form dashing down upon him across the grass, he +gave a squeal of terror and fled for the shelter of the trees. He was +too young, however, for any great speed or agility, and he had none of +the dog's artfulness in dodging. Before he could gain cover he was +overtaken. Buck's massive front caught him on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> haunches, smashing +him into the ground. He gave one agonized squall, and then the life was +crushed out of him.</p> + +<p>Amazed at this easy success—the first of the kind he had ever had—but +immensely proud of himself, the great red ox drew off and eyed his +victim for a second or two, his tail lashing his sides in angry triumph. +Then he fell to goring the small black body, and tossing it into the +air, and battering it again with his forehead as it came down. He was +taking deep vengeance for all the yelping curs which had worried and +eluded him in the past.</p> + +<p>In the midst of this congenial exercise he caught sight, out of the +corner of his eye, of a big black shape just hurling itself upon him. +The mother bear, a giant of her kind, had come to the cry of her little +one.</p> + +<p>Buck whirled with amazing nimbleness to meet the attack. He was in time +to escape the blow which would have cracked even his mighty neck, but +the long, steel-hard claws of his assailant fairly raked off one side of +his face, destroying one eye completely. At the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> same time, with a +shrill bellow, he lunged forward, driving a short, punishing horn deep +into the bear's chest and hurling her back upon her haunches.</p> + +<p>Dreadful as was his own injury, this fortunate thrust gave him the +advantage for the moment. But, being unlearned in battle, he did not +know enough to follow it up. He drew back to prepare for another charge, +and paused to stamp the ground, and bellow, and shake his horribly +wounded head.</p> + +<p>The mother, heedless of her own deep wound, turned to sniff, whimpering, +at the body of her cub. Seeing at once that it was quite dead, she +wheeled like a flash and hurled herself again upon the slayer. As she +wheeled she came upon Buck's blinded side. He lunged forward once again, +mad for the struggle. But this time, half blind as he was, he was easily +eluded, for the old bear was a skilled fighter. A monstrous weight +crashed down upon his neck, just behind the ears, and the bright green +world grew black before him. He stumbled heavily forward on knees and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +muzzle, with a choking bellow. The bear struck again, and with the other +paw tore out his throat, falling upon him and mauling him with silent +fury as he rolled over upon his side.</p> + +<p>Star, meanwhile, being ever slow of wit and of purpose, had been +watching with startled eyes, unable to take in the situation, although a +strange heat was beginning to stretch his veins. But when he saw his +yoke-mate stumble forward on his muzzle, when he heard that choking +bellow of anguish, then the unaccustomed fire found its way up into his +brain. He saw red, and, with a nimbleness far beyond that of Buck at his +swiftest, he launched himself into the battle.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 395px;"> +<img src="images/i153.jpg" width="395" height="650" alt="He launched himself into the battle." title="" /> +<span class="caption">He launched himself into the battle.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p>The bear, absorbed in the fulness of her vengeance, was taken absolutely +by surprise. It was as if a ton of rock had been hurled against her +flank, rolling her over and crushing her at the same time. In his rage +the great red ox seemed suddenly to develop an aptitude for the battle. +Twisting his head, he buried one horn deep in his adversary's belly, +where he ripped and tore with the all-destructive fury of a mad +rhinoceros. The bear's legs closed convulsively about his head and +shoulders, but in the next instant they relaxed again, falling away +loosely as that ploughing horn reached and pierced the heart. Then Star +drew back, and stood shaking his head to clear the blood out of his +eyes.</p> + +<p>For two days and nights Star stood over his yoke-mate's body, leaving +his post only for a few yards and for a few minutes, at long intervals, +to crop a mouthful of grass or to drink at that cold stream which ran +past the edge of the tragic glade. On the third day two woodsmen, +passing down the river in a canoe, were surprised to hear the lowing of +an ox in that desolate place, far from even the remotest settler's +cabin. The lowing was persistent and appealing. They went ashore and +investigated.</p> + +<p>At the scene which they came upon in the sunny little glade they stood +marvelling. After a time their shrewd conjectures, initiated as they +were in all the mysteries of the wild,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> arrived at a fairly accurate +interpretation of it all.</p> + +<p>"It was sure some scrap, anyhow," was the final conclusion of one +grizzled investigator; and "Wish't we could 'a' seen it," of the other. +Then, the big red ox, with blood caked over head and horns, being too +admired as well as too valuable to be left behind, they decided that one +of them should stop on shore and drive him, while the other followed +slowly in the canoe.</p> + +<p>At first Star refused stolidly to budge from his dead comrade's side. +But the woodsman was in winter a teamster, and what he did not know +about driving oxen was not worth knowing. He cut a long white stick like +an ox-goad, took his place at Star's side, gave him a firm prod in the +flank, and cried in a voice of authority: "Haw, Bright!"</p> + +<p>At the old command, although "Bright" was not the right name, Star +seemed once more to feel the familiar, and to him not unpleasant, +pressure of the yoke upon his neck. He swerved obediently to the left, +lowering his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> head and throwing his weight forward to start the +imaginary load, and moved away as his new master ordered. And gradually, +as he went, directed this way or that by the sharp commands of "Gee!" or +"Haw!" and the light reminder of the goad, his grief for his yoke-fellow +began to dull its edge. It was comforting to be once more controlled, to +be snatched back into servitude from a freedom which had proved so +strenuous and so terrible.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Trailers</h2> + + +<p>Young Stan Murray turned on his heel and went into the house for his +gun. His breast boiled with pity and indignation. The hired man, coming +down from the Upper Field, had just told him that two more of his sheep +had been killed by the bears. The sheep were of fine stock, only lately +introduced to the out-settlements, and they were Stan's special charge. +These two last made seven that the bears had taken within six weeks. +Stan Murray, with the robust confidence of his eighteen years, vowed +that the marauder, or marauders, should be brought to an accounting +without more ado, though it should take him a week to trail them down. +He stuffed some hardtack biscuits and a generous lump of cheese into his +pockets, saw that his Winchester repeater was duly charged, buckled on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +his cartridge-belt, and started for the Upper Field.</p> + +<p>The hired man led him to the scene of the tragedy. The two victims—both +full-grown sheep—had been struck down close to the edge of the field, +within a dozen yards of each other. Nothing was left of them there but +their woolly skins and big sploshes of darkened blood on the stiff turf +of the pasture. The carcases had evidently been dragged or carried off +into the dark seclusion of the fir woods which bordered the top and +farther side of the field. It was now just after midday, and Stan and +the hired man agreed, after examination of all the signs, that the +killing must have taken place early the previous night.</p> + +<p>"It's a long ways from here them b'ar'll be by this time, I'm thinkin'," +said the hired man. Not a native of the backwoods, he was little versed +in wilderness lore.</p> + +<p>"Not at all," corrected Murray. "Like as not they're within a half mile +or so of us now. They wouldn't lug those fat sheep far. They'd just eat +what they wanted an' hide the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> rest in the bushes. And they'd come back +an' finish it up when they'd slept off the first feed. What would they +want to travel for, when they'd got such a dead easy thing right here?"</p> + +<p>"Um-m-m!" grunted the hired man grudgingly. "Mebbe you're right. But I'd +like to know who's been here afore us, an' <i>rolled up</i> this here skin so +tidy-like? T'other skin's left all of a heap, mebbe because it's so torn +'tain't no good to nobody."</p> + +<p>The young woodsman laughed, for all his vexation of spirit.</p> + +<p>"Lot you know about bears, Tom," said he. "You see, there's been <i>two</i> +bears here on this job, curse their dirty hides! One's a youngster, an' +don't know much about skinning a sheep. He's just clawed off the skin +any old way, an' made a mess of it, as you see. But the other's an old +hand, evidently, an' knows what he's about—an old she, likely, an' +perhaps mother of the young one. <i>She's</i> known how to <i>peel</i> off the +skin, rolling it up that way quite as a man might do. Now, Tom, you get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +along back home, an' take the skins with you. I'm going after those two, +an' I'm not coming home till I've squared up with 'em over this here +deal."</p> + +<p>For half a mile or more back into the woods the trail of the marauders +was a plain one to follow. Then Murray found the remnants of the two +victims hidden in a mass of thick underbush, several yards apart. The +tracks of the two bears encircled the spot, a plain proclamation of +ownership to any other of the wild creatures which might be inclined to +trespass on that domain. And on the trunk of a tall spruce, standing +close beside the hiding-place, the initiated eyes of young Murray +detected another warning to intruders. The bark at a considerable height +was scored by the marks of mighty claws. The larger bear, after her +meal, had stretched herself like a cat, rearing herself and digging in +her claws against the trunk. And the great height of her reach was a +pointed announcement that her displeasure would be a perilous thing to +reckon with. As Stan Murray stood, estimating the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> stature of his foe, +his eyes began to sparkle. This would be a trophy worth winning, the +hide and head of such a bear. His wrath against the slayers of his sheep +died away into the emulous zest of the hunter.</p> + +<p>The bears, their hunger satisfied, had gone on straight back into the +wilderness, instead of hanging about the scene of their triumph or +crawling into a neighbouring thicket, as Murray had expected, to sleep +off their heavy feast. Murray thought he knew all about bears. As a +matter of fact, he did know a lot about them. What he did <i>not</i> know was +that no one, however experienced and sympathetic an observer, ever does +achieve to know <i>all</i> about them. The bear is at the opposite pole from +the sheep. He is an individualist. He does not care to do as his +neighbour does. He is ever ready to adapt his habits, as well as his +diet, to the varying of circumstance. He loves to depart from his rules +and confound the naturalists. When you think you've got him, he turns +out to be an old black stump, and laughs in his shaggy sleeve from some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +other hidden post of observation. He makes all the other kindred of the +wild, except, perhaps, the shrewd fox, seem like foolish children beside +him.</p> + +<p>For a good hour Murray followed the trail of the two bears, at times +with some difficulty, as the forest gave way in places to breadths of +hard and stony barren, where the great pads left smaller trace. At last, +to his annoyance, in a patch of swamp, where the trail was very clear, +he realized that he was now following one bear only, and that the +smaller of the two. He cast assiduously from side to side, but in vain. +He harked back along the trail for several hundred yards, but he could +find no sign of the other bear, nor of where she had branched off. And +it was just that other that he wanted. However, he decided that as the +two were working together, he would probably find the second by keeping +on after the first, rather than by questing at large for a lost trail. +In any case, as he now reminded himself, it was not a trophy, but +vengeance for his slaughtered sheep that he was out for.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>The trail he had been following hitherto had been hours old. Now, of a +sudden, he noticed with a start that it had become amazingly fresh—so +fresh, indeed, that he felt he might come upon his quarry at any +instant. How did it happen that the trail had thus grown fresh all at +once? Decidedly puzzled, he halted abruptly and sat down upon a stump to +consider the problem.</p> + +<p>At last he came to the conclusion that, somewhere to his rear, the +quarry must have swerved off to one side or the other, either lain down +for a brief siesta, or made a wide detour, then circled back into the +old trail just a little way in advance of him. Again, it seemed, he had +overshot the important and revealing point of the trail. He was nettled, +disappointed in himself. His first impulse was to retrace his steps +minutely, and try to verify this conclusion. Then he reflected that, +after all, he had better content himself with the fact that he was now +close on the heels of the fugitive, and vengeance, perhaps, almost +within his grasp. To go back, for the mere sake of proving a theory,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +would be to lose his advantage. Moreover, the afternoon was getting on. +He decided to push forward.</p> + +<p>But now he went warily, peering to this side and to that, and +scrutinizing every thicket, every stump and massive bole. He felt that +he had been too confident, and made too much noise in his going. It was +pretty certain that the quarry would by now be aware of the pursuit, and +cunningly <i>on</i> guard. Twice he had been worsted in woodcraft. He was +determined that the marauders should not score off him a third time.</p> + +<p>For another half-hour he kept on, moving now as noiselessly as a mink, +and watchfully as a wood-mouse. Yet the trail went on as before, and he +could detect no sign that he was gaining on the elusive quarry. At last, +grown suddenly conscious of hunger, he sat down upon a mossy stone and +proceeded to munch his crackers and cheese. He was getting rather out of +conceit with himself, and the meal, hungry though he was, seemed +tasteless.</p> + +<p>As he sat there, gnawing discontentedly at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> his dry fare, he began to +feel conscious of being watched. The short hairs on the back of his neck +tingled and rose. He looked around sharply, but he could see nothing. +Very softly he rose to his feet. With minutest scrutiny his eyes +searched every object within view. The mingled shadows of the forest +were confusing, of course, but his trained eyes knew how to +differentiate them. Nevertheless, neither behind, nor before, nor on +either side could he make out any living thing, except a little +black-and-white woodpecker, which peered at him with unwinking curiosity +from a gnarled trunk a dozen feet away. From the woodpecker his glance +wandered upwards and interrogated the lower branches of the surrounding +trees. At last he made out the gleam of a pair of pale, malevolent eyes +glaring down upon him from a high branch. Then he made out the shadowy +shape, flattened close to the branch, of a large wild-cat.</p> + +<p>Murray disliked the whole tribe of the wild-cats, as voracious +destroyers of game and cunning depredators upon his poultry, and his +rifle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> went instantly to his shoulder. But he lowered it again with a +short laugh. He was not bothering just then with wild-cats. He cursed +himself softly as "getting nervous," and sat down again to resume his +meal, satisfied that the sensation at the back of his neck was now +explained.</p> + +<p>But he had not found the true explanation, by any means. In fact, he was +fooled yet again.</p> + +<p>From less than fifty yards ahead of him a little pair of red-rimmed +eyes, half angry and half curious, were watching his every movement. +Crouching behind two great trunks, his quarry was keeping him under wary +observation, ready to slip onward like a shadow, keeping to the shelter +of the thicket and bole and rock, the moment he should show the least +sign of taking up the trail again.</p> + +<p>Moreover, from a slightly greater distance to his rear, another pair of +little red-rimmed eyes, less curious and more angry, also held him under +observation. For an hour or more, at least, the older bear had been +trailing him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> in her turn with practised cunning. For all her immense +bulk, she had never betrayed herself by so much as the crackling of a +twig; and the unconscious, complacent hunter was being hunted with a +woodcraft far beyond his own. Whenever he stopped, or paused for the +least moment, she came to a stop herself as instantly as if worked by +the same nerve impulse, and stiffened into such stony immobility that +she seemed at once to melt into her surroundings, and became invisible +in the sense of being indistinguishable from them. Among mossy rocks she +seemed to become a rock, among stumps a stump, among thickets a portion +of the dark, shaggy undergrowth.</p> + +<p>Having finished his crackers and cheese, Murray got up, brushed the +crumbs from his jacket, flicked a hard flake of bark contemptuously at +the wild-cat—which darted farther up the tree with an angry growl—and +once more took up the trail. He was beginning now to wonder if he was +going to accomplish anything before the light should fail him, and he +hurried on at a swifter pace. A few hundred<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> yards farther, to his +considerable gratification, the trail swept around in a wide curve +towards the right, and made back towards the Settlement. "Perhaps," he +thought, "that fool of a bear does not know, after all, that I am on his +track, and is going back for the remainder of his supper."</p> + +<p>Encouraged by this idea, he pushed on faster still.</p> + +<p>Then, some ten minutes later, he had reason to regret his haste. +Crossing a patch of soft, open ground, his attention was caught by the +fact that the footprints he was following had miraculously increased in +size. Examination proved that this was no illusion. And now, for the +first time, an unpleasant feeling crept over him. Apparently he was +being played with. The second bear, it was evident, had slipped in and +taken the place of the first, copying an old game of the hunted foxes.</p> + +<p>Murray suddenly felt himself alone and outwitted. If it had been earlier +in the day, he would not have cared; but now it would soon be night. He +had no great dread of bears,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> as a rule. He was willing to tackle +several of them at once, as long as he had his Winchester and a clear +chance to use it—but after dark he would be at a grievous disadvantage. +If the trail had still been leading away from home, he would probably +have turned back and planned for an early start again next morning. But +as his enemy was going in the right direction, he decided to follow on +as fast as possible, and see if he might not succeed in obtaining a +decision before dark.</p> + +<p>The trail was now almost insolently clear, and he followed it at a lope. +He gained no glimpse of the quarry even at this pace; but at least he +had the satisfaction of knowing, from the increased heaviness of the +footprints and the lengthening of the stride, that he was forcing his +adversary to make haste. Presently it appeared that this was displeasing +to the adversary. The trail went off to the left, at a sharp angle, and +made for a dense cedar swamp, which Murray had no desire to adventure +into at that late hour. He decided to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> give up the chase for the day and +keep straight for home.</p> + +<p>By this time Murray felt that his knowledge of bears was not quite so +profound as he had fancied it to be. Nevertheless, he was sure of one +thing. He was ready to gamble on it that, as soon as they realized he +had given up trailing them, they would turn and trail him. The idea was +more or less depressing to him in his present mood. He did not greatly +care, however, so long as it was fairly light. He did not think that his +adversaries would have the rashness to attack him even after dark, the +black bear having a very just appreciation of man's power. Still, there +was the chance, and it gave him something to think of. He made a hurried +estimate of the distance he had yet to go, and it was with a distinct +sense of relief he concluded that he would make the open fields before +the closing in of dark.</p> + +<p>The woods at this point were somewhat thick, an abundant second growth +of spruce and fir. Presently they fell away before him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> revealing a few +acres of windy grass-land surrounding a deserted cabin. At the sight of +the space of open ground Murray was seized with a new idea. His face +brightened, his self-confidence returned. The bears had, so far, outdone +him thoroughly in woodcraft. Well, he would now show them that he was +their master in tactics.</p> + +<p>He ran staggeringly out into the field, and fell as if exhausted. He lay +for a few seconds, to make sure he was observed by his antagonists, then +picked himself up, raced on across the open as fast as he could, and +plunged into the thick woods on the opposite side.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was hidden, he turned and looked behind him. The growth of +bushes and rank herbage which fringed the other side of the clearing +whence he had come was waving and tossing with the movement of heavy +bodies. For a few moments he thought that his pursuers, grown bold with +his flight, would break forth from their concealment and follow across +the clearing. In that case he might count on bagging them both.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + +<p>But no, they were too wary still for that. Presently the tossing of the +bushes began to separate, and moved rapidly both to right and left along +the skirts of the clearing. A smile of triumph spread over Murray's +face.</p> + +<p>"My turn at last!" he muttered, and ran noiselessly, keeping well +hidden, down toward the left-hand corner of the field. He had an idea +that it was the bigger bear which was coming to meet him in that +direction, because the movement of the bushes had seemed the more +violent on that side. He was himself again fully now, the zest of the +hunter swallowing up all other emotions.</p> + +<p>Just at the corner of the field, behind a heap of stones half buried in +herbage, he hid himself, and lay motionless, with his rifle at his +shoulder and finger on the trigger. He could hear the bear coming, for +she was running more carelessly now, under the impression that the enemy +was in full flight. Dry branches snapped, green branches swished and +rustled, and occasionally his straining ears caught the sound of a heavy +but muffled footfall.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was almost upon him, however, before he could actually get a view of +her. She came out into a space between two clumps of young fir trees, +not twenty-five yards from his hiding-place, and was just passing him +diagonally, offering a perfect mark. Murray's finger closed, softly and +steadily, on the trigger. The heavy, soft-nosed bullet crashed through +her neck, and she dropped, collapsing on the instant into nothing more +than a heap of rusty-black fur.</p> + +<p>Immensely elated, his dear sheep avenged, and his standing as a hunter +vindicated at last, young Murray strode over and examined his splendid +prize. It was by far the biggest black bear he had ever seen. To the +other of the pair he gave not a thought; he knew that the crack of his +rifle would have cured it of any further curiosity it might have had +about himself. He took out his handkerchief, tied it to the end of a +stick, and stuck the stick into the ground beside the heap of fur, to +serve both as a mark and as a warning to possible trespassers. Then he +made haste home, to fetch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> a lantern and the hired man, for he would not +leave so splendid a skin all night to the mercies of fox and fisher and +weasel and other foragers of the dark.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> +<h2>Cock-Crow</h2> + + +<p>He was a splendid bird, a thoroughbred "Black-breasted Red" game-cock, +his gorgeous plumage hard as mail, silken with perfect condition, and +glowing like a flame against the darkness of the spruce forest. His +snaky head—the comb and wattles had been trimmed close, after the mode +laid down for his aristocratic kind—was sharp and keen, like a living +spear-point. His eyes were fierce and piercing, ready ever to meet the +gaze of bird, or beast, or man himself, with the unwinking challenge of +their full, arrogant stare.</p> + +<p>Perched upon a stump a few yards from the railway line, he turned that +bold stare now, with an air of unperturbed superciliousness, upon the +wreck of the big freight-car from which he had just escaped. He had +escaped by a miracle, but little effect had that upon his bold and +confident spirit. The ramshackle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> overladen freight train, labouring up +the too-steep gradient, had broken in two, thanks to a defective +coupler, near the top of the incline a mile and a half away. The rear +cars—heavy box-cars—had, of course, run back, gathering a terrific +momentum as they went. The rear brakeman, his brakes failing to hold, +had discreetly jumped before the speed became too great. At the foot of +the incline a sharp curve had proved too much for the runaways to +negotiate. With a screech of tortured metal they had jumped the track, +and gone crashing down the high embankment. One car, landing on a +granite boulder, had split apart like a cleft melon. The light crate in +which our game-cock, a pedigree bird, was being carried to a fancier in +the nearest town, some three score miles away, had survived by its very +lightness. But its door had been snapped open. The cock walked out +deliberately, uttered a long, low <i>krr-rr-ee</i> of ironic comment upon the +disturbance, hopped delicately over the tangle of boxes and crates and +agricultural implements, and flew to the top of the nearest stump.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +There he shook himself, his plumage being disarrayed, though his spirit +was not. He flapped his wings. Then, eyeing the wreckage keenly, he gave +a shrill, triumphant crow, which rang through the early morning +stillness of the forest like a challenge. He felt that the smashed car, +so lately his prison, was a foe which he had vanquished by his own +unaided prowess. His pride was not altogether unnatural.</p> + +<p>The place where he stood preening the red glory of his plumage was in +the very heart of the wilderness. The only human habitation within a +dozen miles in either direction was a section-man's shanty, guarding a +siding and a rusty water-tank. The woods—mostly spruce in that region, +with patches of birch and poplar—had been gone over by the lumbermen +some five years before, and still showed the ravages of the insatiable +axe. Their narrow "tote-roads," now deeply mossed and partly overgrown +by small scrub, traversed the lonely spaces in every direction. One of +these roads led straight back into the wilderness from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +railway—almost from the stump whereon the red cock had his perch.</p> + +<p>The cock had no particular liking for the neighbourhood of the accident, +and when his fierce, inquiring eye fell upon this road, he decided to +investigate, hoping it might lead him to some flock of his own kind, +over whom he would, as a matter of course, promptly establish his +domination. That there would be other cocks there, already in charge, +only added to his zest for the adventure. He was raising his wings to +hop down from his perch, when a wide-winged shadow passed over him, and +he checked himself, glancing upwards sharply.</p> + +<p>A foraging hawk had just flown overhead. The hawk had never before seen +a bird like the bright figure standing on the stump, and he paused in +his flight, hanging for a moment on motionless wing to scrutinise the +strange apparition. But he was hungry, and he considered himself more +than a match for anything in feathers except the eagle, the goshawk, and +the great horned owl. His hesitation was but for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> a second, and, with a +sudden mighty thrust of his wide wings, he swooped down upon this novel +victim.</p> + +<p>The big hawk was accustomed to seeing every quarry he stooped at cower +paralysed with terror or scurry for shelter in wild panic. But, to his +surprise, this infatuated bird on the stump stood awaiting him, with +wings half lifted, neck feathers raised in a defiant ruff, and one eye +cocked upwards warily. He was so surprised, in fact, that at a distance +of some dozen or fifteen feet he wavered and paused in his downward +rush. But it was surprise only, fear having small place in his wild, +marauding heart. In the next second he swooped again and struck +downwards at his quarry with savage, steel-hard talons.</p> + +<p>He struck but empty air. At exactly the right fraction of the instant +the cock had leapt upwards on his powerful wings, lightly as a +thistle-seed, but swift as if shot from a catapult. He passed straight +over his terrible assailant's back. In passing he struck downwards with +his spurs, which were nearly three inches long,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> straight, and tapered +almost to a needle-point. One of these deadly weapons found its mark, as +luck would have it, fair in the joint of the hawk's shoulder, putting +the wing clean out of action.</p> + +<p>The marauder turned completely over and fell in a wild flutter to the +ground, the cock, at the same time, alighting gracefully six or eight +feet away and wheeling like a flash to meet a second attack. The hawk, +recovering with splendid nerve from the amazing shock of his overthrow, +braced himself upright on his tail by the aid of the one sound wing—the +other wing trailing helplessly—and faced his strange adversary with +open beak and one clutching talon uplifted.</p> + +<p>The cock, fighting after the manner of his kind, rushed in to within a +couple of feet of his foe and there paused, balanced for the next stroke +or parry, legs slightly apart, wings lightly raised, neck feathers +ruffed straight out, beak lowered and presented like a rapier point. +Seeing that his opponent made no demonstration, but simply waited, +watching him with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> eyes as hard and bright and dauntless as his own, he +tried to provoke him to a second attack. With scornful insolence he +dropped his guard and pecked at a twig or a grass blade, jerking the +unconsidered morsel aside and presenting his point again with lightning +swiftness.</p> + +<p>The insult, however, was lost upon the hawk, who had no knowledge of the +cock's duelling code. He simply waited, motionless as the stump beside +him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 459px;"> +<img src="images/i183.jpg" width="459" height="650" alt="Leaping upwards and striking downwards with his +destroying heels." title="" /> +<span class="caption">Leaping upwards and striking downwards with his +destroying heels.</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>The cock, perceiving that taunt and insolence were wasted, now began to +circle warily toward the left, as if to take his opponent in the flank. +The hawk at once shifted front to face him. But this was the side of his +disabled wing. The sprawling member would not move, would not get out of +the way. In the effort to manage it, he partly lost his precarious +balance. The cock saw his advantage instantly. He dashed in like a +feathered and flaming thunderbolt, leaping upwards and striking +downwards with his destroying heels. The hawk was hurled over backwards, +with one spur through his throat, the other through his lungs. As he +fell he dragged his conqueror down with him, and one convulsive but +blindly-clutching talon ripped away a strip of flesh and feathers from +the victor's thigh. There was a moment's flapping, a few delicate red +feathers floated off upon the morning air, then the hawk lay quite +still, and the red cock, stepping haughtily off the body of his foe, +crowed long and shrill, three times, as if challenging any other +champions of the wilderness to come and dare a like fate.</p> + +<p>For a few minutes he stood waiting and listening for an answer to his +challenge. As no answer came, he turned, without deigning to glance at +his slain foe, and stalked off, stepping daintily, up the old wood-road +and into the depths of the forest. To the raw, red gash in his thigh he +paid no heed whatever.</p> + +<p>Having no inkling of the fact that the wilderness, silent and deserted +though it seemed, was full of hostile eyes and unknown perils, he took +no care at all for the secrecy of his going. Indeed, had he striven for +concealment, his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> brilliant colouring, so out of key with the forest +gloom, would have made it almost impossible. Nevertheless, his keenness +of sight and hearing, his practised and unsleeping vigilance as +protector of his flock, stood him in good stead, and made up for his +lack of wilderness lore. It was with an intense interest and curiosity, +rather than with any apprehension, that his bold eyes questioned +everything on either side of his path through the dark spruce woods. +Sometimes he would stop to peck the bright vermilion bunches of the +pigeon-berry, which here and there starred the hillocks beside the road. +But no matter how interesting he found the novel and delicious fare, his +vigilance never relaxed. It was, indeed, almost automatic. The idea +lurking in his subconscious processes was probably that he might at any +moment be seen by some doughty rival of his own kind, and challenged to +the great game of mortal combat. But whatever the object of his +watchfulness, it served him as well against the unknown as it could have +done against expected foes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>Presently he came to a spot where an old, half-rotted stump had been +torn apart by a bear hunting for wood-ants. The raw earth about the +up-torn roots tempted the wanderer to scratch for grubs. Finding a fat +white morsel, much too dainty to be devoured alone, he stood over it and +began to call <i>kt-kt-kt</i>, <i>kt-kt-kt</i>, <i>kt-kt-kt</i> in his most alluring +tones, hoping that some coy young hen would come stealing out of the +underbrush in response to his gallant invitation. There was no such +response; but as he peered about hopefully, he caught sight of a +sinister, reddish-yellow shape creeping towards him behind the shelter +of a withe-wood bush. He gulped down the fat grub, and stood warily +eyeing the approach of this new foe.</p> + +<p>It looked to him like a sharp-nosed, bushy-tailed yellow dog—a very +savage and active one. He was not afraid, but he knew himself no match +for a thoroughly ferocious dog of that size. This one, it was clear, had +evil designs upon him. He half crouched, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> wings loosed and every +muscle tense for the spring.</p> + +<p>The next instant the fox pounced at him, darting through the green edges +of the withe-wood bush with most disconcerting suddenness. The cock +sprang into the air, but only just in time, for the fox, leaping up +nimbly at him with snapping jaws, captured a mouthful of glossy tail +feathers. The cock alighted on a branch overhead, some seven or eight +feet from the ground, whipped around, stretched his neck downwards, and +eyed his assailant with a glassy stare. "<i>Kr-rr-rr-eee?</i>" he murmured +softly, as if in sarcastic interrogation. The fox, exasperated at his +failure, and hating, above all beasts, to be made a fool of, glanced +around to see if there were any spectators. Then, with an air of +elaborate indifference, he pawed a feather from the corner of his mouth +and trotted away as if he had just remembered something.</p> + +<p>He had not gone above thirty yards or so, when the cock flew down again +to the exact spot where he had been scratching. He pretended<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> to pick up +another grub, all the time keeping an eye on the retiring foe. He crowed +with studied insolence; but the fox, although that long and shrill +defiance must have seemed a startling novelty, gave no sign of having +heard it. The cock crowed again, with the same lack of result. He kept +on crowing until the fox was out of sight. Then he returned coolly to +his scratching. When he had satisfied his appetite for fat white grubs, +he flew up again to his safe perch and fell to pruning his feathers. +Five minutes later the fox reappeared, creeping up with infinite stealth +from quite another direction. The cock, however, detected his approach +at once, and proclaimed the fact with another mocking crow. Disgusted +and abashed, the fox turned in his tracks and crept away to stalk some +less sophisticated quarry.</p> + +<p>The wanderer, for all his fearlessness, was wise. He suspected that the +vicious yellow dog with the bushy tail might return yet again to the +charge. For a time, therefore, he sat on his perch, digesting his meal +and studying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> with keen, inquisitive eyes his strange surroundings. +After ten minutes or so of stillness and emptiness, the forest began to +come alive. He saw a pair of black-and-white woodpeckers running up and +down the trunk of a half-dead tree, and listened with tense interest to +their loud rat-tat-tattings. He watched the shy wood-mice come out from +their snug holes under the tree-roots, and play about with timorous +gaiety and light rustlings among the dead leaves. He scrutinised with +appraising care a big brown rabbit which came bounding in a leisurely +fashion down the tote-road and sat up on his hindquarters near the +stump, staring about with its mild, bulging eyes, and waving its long +ears this way and that, to question every minutest wilderness sound; and +he decided that the rabbit, for all its bulk and apparent vigour of +limb, would not be a dangerous opponent. In fact, he thought of hopping +down from his perch and putting the big innocent to flight, just to +compensate himself for having had to flee from the fox.</p> + +<p>But while he was meditating this venture,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> the rabbit went suddenly +leaping off at a tremendous pace, evidently in great alarm. A few +seconds later a slim little light-brownish creature, with short legs, +long, sinuous body, short, triangular head, and cruel eyes that glowed +like fire, came into view, following hard upon the rabbit's trail. It +was nothing like half the rabbit's size, but the interested watcher on +the branch overhead understood at once the rabbit's terror. He had never +seen a weasel before, but he knew that the sinuous little beast with the +eyes of death would be as dangerous almost as the fox. He noted that +here was another enemy to look out for—to be avoided, if possible, to +be fought with the utmost wariness if fighting should be forced upon +him.</p> + +<p>Not long after the weasel had vanished, the cock grew tired of waiting, +and restless to renew the quest for the flock on which his dreams were +set. He started by flying from tree to tree, still keeping along the +course of the tote-road. But after he had covered perhaps a half-mile in +this laborious fashion, he gave it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> up and hopped down again into the +road. Here he went now with new caution, but with the same old arrogance +of eye and bearing. He went quickly, however, for the gloom of the +spruce wood had grown oppressive to him, and he wanted open fields and +the unrestricted sun.</p> + +<p>He had not gone far when he caught sight of a curious-looking animal +advancing slowly down the path to meet him. It was nearly as big as the +rabbit, but low on the legs; and instead of leaping along, it crawled +with a certain heavy deliberation. Its colour was a dingy, greyish +black-and-white, and its short black head was crowned with what looked +like a heavy iron-grey pompadour brushed well back. The cock stood +still, eyeing its approach suspiciously. It did not look capable of any +very swift demonstration, but he was on his guard.</p> + +<p>When it had come within three or four yards of him, he said +"<i>Kr-rr-rr-eee!</i>" sharply, just to see what it would do, at the same +time lowering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> his snaky head and ruffing out his neck feathers in +challenge. The stranger seemed then to notice him for the first time, +and instantly, to the cock's vast surprise, it enlarged itself to fully +twice its previous size. Its fur, which was now seen to be quills rather +than fur, stood up straight on end all over its head and body, and the +quills were two or three inches in length. At this amazing spectacle the +cock involuntarily backed away several paces. The stranger came straight +on, however, without hastening his deliberate steps one jot. The cock +waited, maintaining his attitude of challenge, till not more than three +or four feet separated him from the incomprehensible apparition. Then he +sprang lightly over it and turned in a flash, expecting the stranger to +turn also and again confront him. The stranger, however, did nothing of +the kind, but simply continued stolidly on his way, not even troubling +to look round. Such stolidity was more than the cock could understand, +having never encountered a porcupine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> before. He stared after it for +some moments. Then he crowed scornfully, turned about, and resumed his +lonely quest.</p> + +<p>A little further on, to his great delight, he came out into a small +clearing with a log cabin in the centre of it. A house! It was +associated in his mind with an admiring, devoted flock of hens, and +rivals to be ignominiously routed, and harmless necessary humans whose +business it was to supply unlimited food. He rushed forward eagerly, +careless as to whether he should encounter love or war.</p> + +<p>Alas, the cabin was deserted! Even to his inexperienced eye it was long +deserted. The door hung on one hinge, half open. The one small window +had no glass in it. Untrodden weeds grew among the rotting chips up to +and across the threshold. The roof—a rough affair of poles and +bark—sagged in the middle, just ready to fall in at the smallest +provocation. A red squirrel, his tail carried jauntily over his back, +sat on the topmost peak of it and shrilled high derision at the wanderer +as he approached.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>The cock was acquainted with squirrels, and thought less than nothing of +them. Ignoring the loud chatter, he tip-toed around the cabin, dejected +but still inquisitive. Returning at length to the doorway, he peered in, +craning his neck and uttering a low <i>kr-rr</i>. Finally, with head held +high, he stalked in. The place was empty, save for a long bench with a +broken leg and a joint of rust-eaten stove-pipe. Along two of the walls +ran a double tier of bunks, in which the lumbermen had formerly slept. +The cock stalked all around the place, prying in every corner and +murmuring softly to himself. At last he flew up to the highest bunk, +perched upon the edge of it, flapped his wings, and crowed repeatedly, +as if announcing to the wilderness at large that he had taken +possession. This ceremony accomplished, he flew down again, stalked out +into the sunlight, and fell to scratching among the chips with an air of +assured possession. And all the while the red squirrel kept on hurling +shrill, unheeded abuse at him, resenting him as an intruder in the +wilds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>Whenever the cock found a particularly choice grub or worm or beetle, he +would hold it aloft in his beak, then lay it down and call loudly +<i>kt-kt-kt-kt-kt-kt</i>, as if hoping thus to lure some flock of hens to the +fair domain which he had seized. He had now dropped his quest, and was +trusting that his subjects would come to him. That afternoon his valiant +calls caught the ear of a weasel—possibly the very one which he had +seen in the morning trailing the panic-stricken rabbit. The weasel came +rushing upon him at once, too ferocious in its blood-lust for any such +emotions as surprise or curiosity, and expecting an easy conquest. The +cock saw it coming, and knew well the danger. But he was now on his own +ground, responsible for the protection of an imaginary flock. He faced +the peril unwavering. Fortunately for him, the weasel had no idea +whatever of a fighting-cock's method of warfare. When the cock evaded +the deadly rush by leaping straight at it and over it, instead of +dodging aside or turning tail, the weasel was nonplussed for just a +fraction of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> second, and stood snarling. In that instant of hesitation +the cock's keen spur struck it fairly behind the ear, and drove clean +into the brain. The murderous little beast stiffened out, rolled gently +over upon its side, and lay there with the soundless snarl fixed upon +its half-opened jaws. Surprised at such an easy victory, the cock +spurred the carcase again, just to make sure of it. Then he kicked it to +one side, crowed, of course, and stared around wistfully for some +appreciation of his triumph. He could not know with what changed eyes +the squirrel—who feared weasels more than anything else on earth—was +now regarding him.</p> + +<p>The killing of so redoubtable an adversary as the weasel must have +become known, in some mysterious fashion, for thenceforward no more of +the small marauders of the forest ventured to challenge the new lordship +of the clearing. For a week the cock ruled his solitude unquestioned, +very lonely, but sleeplessly alert, and ever hoping that followers of +his own kind would come to him from somewhere. In time, doubtless, his +loneliness would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> driven him forth again upon his quest; but Fate +had other things in store for him.</p> + +<p>Late one afternoon a grizzled woodsman in grey homespun, and carrying a +bundle swung from the axe over his shoulder, came striding up to the +cabin. The cock, pleased to see a human being once more, stalked forth +from the cabin door to meet him. The woodsman was surprised at the sight +of what he called a "reel barn-yard rooster" away off here in the wilds, +but he was too tired and hungry to consider the question carefully. His +first thought was that there would be a pleasant addition to his supper +of bacon and biscuits. He dropped his axe and bundle, and made a swift +grab at the unsuspecting bird. The latter dodged cleverly, ruffed his +neck feathers with an angry <i>kr-rr-rr</i>, hopped up, and spurred the +offending hand severely.</p> + +<p>The woodsman straightened himself up, taken by surprise, and sheepishly +shook the blood from his hand.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered, eyeing the intrepid cock with +admiration. "You're<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> some rooster, you are! I guess you're all right. +Guess I deserved that, for thinkin' of wringin' the neck o' sech a +handsome an' gritty bird as you, an' me with plenty o' good bacon in me +pack. Guess we'll call it square, eh?"</p> + +<p>He felt in his pocket for some scraps of biscuits, and tossed them to +the cock, who picked them up greedily and then strutted around him, +plainly begging for more. The biscuit was a delightful change after an +unvarying diet of grubs and grass. Thereafter he followed his visitor +about like his shadow, not with servility, of course, but with a certain +condescending arrogance which the woodsman found hugely amusing.</p> + +<p>Just outside the cabin door the woodsman lit a fire to cook his evening +rasher and brew his tin of tea. The cock supped with him, striding with +dignity to pick up the scraps which were thrown to him, and then +resuming his place at the other side of the fire. By the time the man +was done, dusk had fallen; and the cock, chuckling contentedly in his +throat, tip-toed into the cabin, flew up to the top bunk,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> and settled +himself on his perch for the night. He had always been taught to expect +benefits from men, and he felt that this big stranger who had fed him so +generously would find him a flock to preside over on the morrow.</p> + +<p>After a long smoke beside his dying fire, till the moon came up above +the ghostly solitude, the woodsman turned in to sleep in one of the +lower bunks, opposite to where the cock was roosting. He had heaped an +armful of bracken and spruce branches into the bunk before spreading his +blanket. And he slept very soundly.</p> + +<p>Even the most experienced of woodsmen may make a slip at times. This +one, this time, had forgotten to make quite sure that his fire was out. +There was no wind when he went to bed, but soon afterwards a wind arose, +blowing steadily toward the cabin. It blew the darkened embers to a +glow, and little, harmless-looking flames began eating their way over +the top layer of tinder-dry chips to the equally dry wall of the cabin.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p><hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The cock was awakened by a bright light in his eyes. A fiery glow, +beyond the reddest of sunrises, was flooding the cabin. Long tongues of +flame were licking about the doorway. He crowed valiantly, to greet this +splendid, blazing dawn. He crowed again and yet again, because he was +anxious and disturbed. As a sunrise, this one did not act at all +according to precedent.</p> + +<p>The piercing notes aroused the man, who was sleeping heavily. In one +instant he was out of his bunk and grabbing up his blanket and his pack. +In the next he had plunged out through the flaming doorway, and thrown +down his armful at a safe distance, cursing acidly at such a disturbance +to the most comfortable rest he had enjoyed for a week.</p> + +<p>From within the doomed cabin came once more the crow of the cock, +shrilling dauntlessly above the crackle and venomous hiss of the flames.</p> + +<p>"Gee whizz!" muttered the woodsman, or, rather, that may be taken as the +polite equivalent of his untrammelled backwoods expletive.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> "That there +red rooster's game. Ye can't leave a pardner like that to roast!"</p> + +<p>With one arm shielding his face, he dashed in again, grabbed the cock by +the legs, and darted forth once more into the sweet, chill air, none the +worse except for frizzled eyelashes and an unceremonious trimming of +hair and beard. The cock, highly insulted, was flapping and pecking +savagely, but the man soon reduced him to impotence, if not submission, +holding him under one elbow while he tied his armed heels together, and +then swaddling him securely in his coat.</p> + +<p>"There," said he, "I guess we'll travel together from this out, pardner. +Ye've sure saved my life; an' to think I had the notion, for a minnit, +o' makin' a meal offen ye! I'll give ye a good home, anyways, an' I +guess ye'll lick the socks offen every other rooster in the whole blame +Settlement!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Ledge on Bald Face</h2> + + +<p>That one stark naked side of the mountain which gave it its name of Old +Bald Face fronted full south. Scorched by sun and scourged by storm +throughout the centuries, it was bleached to an ashen pallor that +gleamed startlingly across the leagues of sombre, green-purple +wilderness outspread below. From the base of the tremendous bald steep +stretched off the interminable leagues of cedar swamp, only to be +traversed in dry weather or in frost. All the region behind the mountain +face was an impenetrable jumble of gorges, pinnacles, and chasms, with +black woods clinging in crevice and ravine and struggling up desperately +towards the light.</p> + +<p>In the time of spring and autumn floods, when the cedar swamps were +impenetrable to all save mink, otter, and musk-rat, the only way from +the western plateau to the group of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> lakes that formed the source of the +Ottanoonsis, on the east, was by a high, nerve-testing trail across the +wind-swept brow of Old Bald Face. The trail followed a curious ledge, +sometimes wide enough to have accommodated an ox-wagon, at other times +so narrow and so perilous that even the sure-eyed caribou went warily in +traversing it.</p> + +<p>The only inhabitants of Bald Face were the eagles, three pairs of them, +who had their nests, widely separated from each other in haughty +isolation, on jutting shoulders and pinnacles accessible to no one +without wings. Though the ledge-path at its highest point was far above +the nests, and commanded a clear view of one of them, the eagles had +learned to know that those who traversed the pass were not troubling +themselves about eagles' nests. They had also observed another thing—of +interest to them only because their keen eyes and suspicious brains were +wont to note and consider everything that came within their purview—and +that was that the scanty traffic by the pass had its more or less +regular times and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> seasons. In seasons of drought or hard frost it +vanished altogether. In seasons of flood it increased the longer the +floods lasted. And whenever there was any passing at all, the movement +was from east to west in the morning, from west to east in the +afternoon.</p> + +<p>This fact may have been due to some sort of dimly recognised convention +among the wild kindreds, arrived at in some subtle way to avoid +unnecessary—and necessarily deadly—misunderstanding and struggle. For +the creatures of the wild seldom fight for fighting's sake. They fight +for food, or, in the mating season, they fight in order that the best +and strongest may carry off the prizes.</p> + +<p>But mere purposeless risk and slaughter they instinctively strive to +avoid. The airy ledge across Bald Face, therefore, was not a place where +the boldest of the wild kindred—the bear or the bull-moose, to say +nothing of lesser champions—would wilfully invite the doubtful combat. +If, therefore, it had been somehow arrived at that there should be no +disastrous meetings, no face-to-face struggles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> for the right of way, at +a spot where dreadful death was inevitable for one or both of the +combatants, that would have been in no way inconsistent with the +accepted laws and customs of the wilderness. On the other hand, it is +possible that this alternate easterly and westerly drift of the wild +creatures—a scanty affair enough at best of times—across the front of +Bald Face was determined in the first place, on clear days, by their +desire not to have the sun in their eyes in making the difficult +passage, and afterwards hardened into custom. It was certainly better to +have the sun behind one in treading the knife-edge pass above the +eagles.</p> + +<p>Joe Peddler found it troublesome enough, that strong, searching glare +from the unclouded sun of early morning full in his eyes, as he worked +over toward the Ottanoonsis lakes. He had never attempted the crossing +of Old Bald Face before, and he had always regarded with some scorn the +stories told by Indians of the perils of that passage. But already, +though he had accomplished but a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> small portion of his journey, and was +still far from the worst of the pass, he had been forced to the +conclusion that report had not exaggerated the difficulties of his +venture. However, he was steady of head and sure of foot, and the higher +he went in that exquisitely clear, crisp air, the more pleased he felt +with himself. His great lungs drank deep of the tonic wind which surged +against him rhythmically, and seemed to him to come unbroken from the +outermost edges of the world. His eyes widened and filled themselves, +even as his lungs, with the ample panorama that unfolded before them. He +imagined—for the woodsman, dwelling so much alone, is apt to indulge +some strange imaginings—that he could feel his very spirit enlarging, +as if to take full measure of these splendid breadths of sunlit, +wind-washed space.</p> + +<p>Presently, with a pleasant thrill, he observed that just ahead of him +the ledge went round an abrupt shoulder of the rock-face at a point +where there was a practically sheer drop of many hundreds of feet into +what appeared a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> feather-soft carpet of tree-tops. He looked shrewdly to +the security of his footing as he approached, and also to the +roughnesses of the rock above the ledge, in case a sudden violent gust +should chance to assail him just at the turn. He felt that at such a +spot it would be so easy—indeed, quite natural—to be whisked off by +the sportive wind, whirled out into space, and dropped into that green +carpet so far below.</p> + +<p>In his flexible oil-tanned "larrigans" of thick cowhide, Peddler moved +noiselessly as a wild-cat, even over the bare stone of the ledge. He was +like a grey shadow drifting slowly across the bleached face of the +precipice. As he drew near the bend of the trail, of which not more than +eight or ten paces were now visible to him, he felt every nerve grow +tense with exhilarating expectation. Yet, even so, what happened was the +utterly unexpected.</p> + +<p>Around the bend before him, stepping daintily on her fine hooves, came a +young doe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> She completely blocked the trail just on that dizzy edge.</p> + +<p>Peddler stopped short, tried to squeeze himself to the rock like a +limpet, and clutched with fingers of iron at a tiny projection.</p> + +<p>The doe, for one second, seemed petrified with amazement. It was +contrary to all tradition that she should be confronted on that trail. +Then, her amazement instantly dissolving into sheer madness of panic, +she wheeled about violently to flee. But there was no room for even her +lithe body to make the turn. The inexorable rock-face bounced her off, +and with an agonised bleat, legs sprawling and great eyes starting from +their sockets, she went sailing down into the abyss.</p> + +<p>With a heart thumping in sympathy, Peddler leaned outward and followed +that dreadful flight, till she reached that treacherously soft-looking +carpet of tree-tops and was engulfed by it. A muffled crash came up to +Peddler's ears.</p> + +<p>"Poor leetle beggar!" he muttered. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> wish't I hadn't scared her so. +But I'd a sight rather it was her than me!"</p> + +<p>Peddler's exhilaration was now considerably damped. He crept cautiously +to the dizzy turn of the ledge and peered around. The thought upon which +his brain dwelt with unpleasant insistence was that if it had been a +surly old bull-moose or a bear which had confronted him so unexpectedly, +instead of that nervous little doe, he might now be lying beneath that +deceitful green carpet in a state of dilapidation which he did not care +to contemplate.</p> + +<p>Beyond the turn the trail was clear to his view for perhaps a couple of +hundred yards. It climbed steeply through a deep re-entrant, a mighty +perpendicular corrugation of the rock-face, and then disappeared again +around another jutting bastion. He hurried on rather feverishly, not +liking that second interruption to his view, and regretting, for the +first time, that he had no weapon with him but his long hunting-knife. +He had left his rifle behind him as a useless burden to his climbing. +No<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> game was now in season, no skins in condition to be worth the +shooting, and he had food enough for the journey in his light pack. He +had not contemplated the possibility of any beast, even bear or +bull-moose, daring to face him, because he knew that, except in +mating-time, the boldest of them would give a man wide berth. But, as he +now reflected, here on this narrow ledge even a buck or a lynx would +become dangerous, finding itself suddenly at bay.</p> + +<p>The steepness of the rise in the trail at this point almost drove +Peddler to helping himself with his hands. As he neared the next turn, +he was surprised to note, far out to his right, a soaring eagle, perhaps +a hundred feet below him. He was surprised, too, by the fact that the +eagle was paying no attention to him whatever, in spite of his invasion +of the great bird's aerial domain. Instinctively he inferred that the +eagle's nest must be in some quite inaccessible spot at safe distance +from the ledge. He paused to observe from above, and thus fairly near at +hand, the slow flapping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> of those wide wings, as they employed the wind +to serve the majesty of their flight. While he was studying this, +another deduction from the bird's indifference to his presence flashed +upon his mind. There must be a fairly abundant traffic of the wild +creatures across this pass, or the eagle would not be so indifferent to +his presence. At this thought he lost his interest in problems of +flight, and hurried forward again, anxious to see what might be beyond +the next turn of the trail.</p> + +<p>His curiosity was gratified all too abruptly for his satisfaction. He +reached the turn, craned his head around it, and came face to face with +an immense black bear.</p> + +<p>The bear was not a dozen feet away. At sight of Peddler's gaunt dark +face and sharp blue eyes appearing thus abruptly and without visible +support around the rock, he shrank back upon his haunches with a +startled "woof."</p> + +<p>As for Peddler, he was equally startled, but he had too much discretion +and self-control to show it. Never moving a muscle, and keeping his body +out of sight so that his face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> seemed to be suspended in mid-air, he +held the great beast's eyes with a calm, unwinking gaze.</p> + +<p>The bear was plainly disconcerted. After a few seconds he glanced back +over his shoulder, and seemed to contemplate a strategic movement to the +rear. As the ledge at this point was sufficiently wide for him to turn +with due care, Peddler expected now to see him do so. But what Peddler +did not know was that dim but cogent "law of the ledge," which forbade +all those who travelled by it to turn and retrace their steps, or to +pass in the wrong direction at the wrong time. He did not know what the +bear knew namely—that if that perturbed beast <i>should</i> turn, he was +sure to be met and opposed by other wayfarers, and thus to find himself +caught between two fires.</p> + +<p>Watching steadily, Peddler was unpleasantly surprised to see the +perturbation in the bear's eyes slowly change into a savage +resentment—resentment at being baulked in his inalienable right to an +unopposed passage over the ledge. To the bear's mind that grim, +confronting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> face was a violation of the law which he himself obeyed +loyally and without question. To be sure, it was the face of man, and +therefore to be dreaded. It was also mysterious, and therefore still +more to be dreaded. But the sense of bitter injustice, with the +realisation that he was at bay and taken at a disadvantage, filled him +with a frightened rage which swamped all other emotion. Then he came on.</p> + +<p>His advance was slow and cautious by reason of the difficulty of the +path and his dread lest that staring, motionless face should pounce upon +him just at the perilous turn and hurl him over the brink. But Peddler +knew that his bluff was called, and that his only chance was to avoid +the encounter. He might have fled by the way he had come, knowing that +he would have every advantage in speed on that narrow trail. But before +venturing up to the turn he had noted a number of little projections and +crevices in the perpendicular wall above him. Clutching at them with +fingers of steel and unerring toes, he swarmed upwards<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> as nimbly as a +climbing cat. He was a dozen feet up before the bear came crawling and +peering around the turn.</p> + +<p>Elated at having so well extricated himself from so dubious a situation, +Peddler gazed down upon his opponent and laughed mockingly. The sound of +that confident laughter from straight above his head seemed to daunt the +bear and thoroughly damp his rage. He crouched low, and scurried past +growling. As he hurried along the trail at a rash pace, he kept casting +anxious glances over his shoulder, as if he feared the man were going to +chase him. Peddler lowered himself from his friendly perch and continued +his journey, cursing himself more than ever for having been such a fool +as not to bring his rifle.</p> + +<p>In the course of the next half-hour he gained the highest point of the +ledge, which here was so broken and precarious that he had little +attention to spare for the unparalleled sweep and splendour of the view. +He was conscious, however, all the time, of the whirling eagles, now far +below him, and his veins thrilled with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> intense exhilaration. His +apprehensions had all vanished under the stimulus of that tonic +atmosphere. He was on the constant watch, however, scanning not only the +trail ahead—which was now never visible for more than a hundred yards +or so at a time—and also the face of the rock above him, to see if it +could be scaled in an emergency.</p> + +<p>He had no expectation of an emergency, because he knew nothing of the +law of the ledge. Having already met a doe and a bear, he naturally +inferred that he would not be likely to meet any other of the elusive +kindreds of the wild, even in a whole week of forest faring. The shy and +wary beasts are not given to thrusting themselves upon man's dangerous +notice, and it was hard enough to find them, with all his woodcraft, +even when he was out to look for them. He was, therefore, so surprised +that he could hardly believe his eyes when, on rounding another +corrugation of the rock-face, he saw another bear coming to meet him.</p> + +<p>"Gee!" muttered Peddler to himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> "Who's been lettin' loose the +menagerie? Or hev I got the nightmare, mebbe?"</p> + +<p>The bear was about fifty yards distant—a smaller one than its +predecessor, and much younger also, as was obvious to Peddler's +initiated eye by the trim glossiness of its coat. It halted the instant +it caught sight of Peddler. But Peddler, for his part, kept right on, +without showing the least sign of hesitation or surprise. This bear, +surely, would give way before him. The beast hesitated, however. It was +manifestly afraid of the man. It backed a few paces, whimpering in a +worried fashion, then stopped, staring up the rock-wall above it, as if +seeking escape in that impossible direction.</p> + +<p>"If ye're so skeered o' me as ye look," demanded Peddler, in a crisp +voice, "why in h—ll don't ye turn an' vamoose, 'stead o' backin' an' +fillin' that way? Ye can't git up that there rock, 'less ye're a fly."</p> + +<p>The ledge at that point was a comparatively wide and easy path; and the +bear at length, as if decided by the easy confidence of Peddler's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +tones, turned and retreated. But it went off with such reluctance, +whimpering anxiously the while, that Peddler was forced to the +conclusion there must be something coming up the trail which it was +dreading to meet. At this idea Peddler was delighted, and hurried on as +closely as possible at the retreating animal's heels. The bear, he +reflected, would serve him as an excellent advance guard, protecting him +perfectly from surprise, and perhaps, if necessary, clearing the way for +him. He chuckled to himself as he realised the situation, and the bear, +catching the incomprehensible sound, glanced nervously over its shoulder +and hastened its retreat as well as the difficulties of the path would +allow.</p> + +<p>The trail was now descending rapidly, though irregularly, towards the +eastern plateau. The descent was broken by here and there a stretch of +comparatively level going, here and there a sharp though brief rise, and +at one point the ledge was cut across by a crevice some four feet in +width. As a jump, of course, it was nothing to Peddler; but in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> spite of +himself he took it with some trepidation, for the chasm looked +infinitely deep, and the footing on the other side narrow and +precarious. The bear, however, had seemed to take it quite carelessly, +almost in its stride, and Peddler, not to be outdone, assumed a similar +indifference.</p> + +<p>It was not long, however, before the enigma of the bear's reluctance to +retrace its steps was solved. The bear, with Peddler some forty or fifty +paces behind, was approaching one of those short steep rises which broke +the general descent. From the other side of the rise came a series of +heavy breathings and windy grunts.</p> + +<p>"Moose, by gum!" exclaimed Peddler. "Now, I'd like to know if <i>all</i> the +critters hev took it into their heads to cross Old Bald Face to-day!"</p> + +<p>The bear heard the gruntlings also, and halted unhappily, glancing back +at Peddler.</p> + +<p>"Git on with it!" ordered Peddler sharply. And the bear, dreading man +more than moose, got on.</p> + +<p>The next moment a long, dark, ominous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> head, with massive, overhanging +lip and small angry eyes, appeared over the rise. Behind this formidable +head laboured up the mighty humped shoulders and then the whole towering +form of a moose-bull. Close behind him followed two young cows and a +yearling calf.</p> + +<p>"Huh! I guess there's goin' to be some row!" muttered Peddler, and cast +his eyes up the rock-face, to look for a point of refuge in case his +champion should get the worst of it.</p> + +<p>At sight of the bear the two cows and the yearling halted, and stood +staring, with big ears thrust forward anxiously, at the foe that barred +their path. But the arrogant old bull kept straight on, though slowly, +and with the wariness of the practised duellist. At this season of the +year his forehead wore no antlers, indeed, but in his great knife-edged +fore-hooves he possessed terrible weapons which he could wield with +deadly dexterity. Marking the confidence of his advance, Peddler grew +solicitous for his own champion, and stood motionless, dreading to +distract the bear's attention.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the bear, though frankly afraid to face man, whom he did not +understand, had no such misgivings in regard to moose. He knew how to +fight moose, and he had made more than one good meal, in his day, on +moose calf. He was game for the encounter. Reassured to see that the man +was not coming any nearer, and possibly even sensing instinctively that +the man was on his side in this matter, he crouched close against the +rock and waited, with one huge paw upraised, like a boxer on guard, for +the advancing bull to attack.</p> + +<p>He had not long to wait.</p> + +<p>The bull drew near very slowly, and with his head held high as if +intending to ignore his opponent. Peddler, watching intently, felt some +surprise at this attitude, even though he knew that the deadliest weapon +of a moose was its fore-hooves. He was wondering, indeed, if the +majestic beast expected to press past the bear without a battle, and if +the bear, on his part, would consent to this highly reasonable +arrangement. Then like a flash, without the slightest warning, the bull +whipped up one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> great hoof to the height of his shoulder and struck at +his crouching adversary.</p> + +<p>The blow was lightning swift, and with such power behind it that, had it +reached its mark, it would have settled the whole matter then and there. +But the bear's parry was equally swift. His mighty forearm fended the +stroke so that it hissed down harmlessly past his head and clattered on +the stone floor of the trail. At the same instant, before the bull could +recover himself for another such pile-driving blow, the bear, who had +been gathered up like a coiled spring, elongated his body with all the +force of his gigantic hindquarters, thrusting himself irresistibly +between his adversary and the face of the rock, and heaving outwards.</p> + +<p>These were tactics for which the great bull had no precedent in all his +previous battles. He was thrown off his balance and shouldered clean +over the brink. By a terrific effort he turned, captured a footing upon +the edge with his fore-hooves, and struggled frantically to drag himself +up again upon the ledge. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> the bear's paw struck him a crashing +buffet straight between the wildly staring eyes. He fell backwards, +turning clean over, and went bouncing, in tremendous sprawling curves, +down into the abyss.</p> + +<p>Upon the defeat of their leader the two cows and the calf turned +instantly—which the ledge at this point was wide enough to permit—and +fled back down the trail at a pace which seemed to threaten their own +destruction. The bear followed more prudently, with no apparent thought +of trying to overtake them. And Peddler kept on behind him, taking care, +however, after this exhibition of his champion's powers, not to press +him too closely.</p> + +<p>The fleeing herd soon disappeared from view. It seemed to have +effectually cleared the trail before it, for the curious procession of +the bear and Peddler encountered no further obstacles.</p> + +<p>After about an hour the lower slopes of the mountain were reached. The +ledge widened and presently broke up, with trails leading off here and +there among the foothills. At the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> first of these that appeared to offer +concealment the bear turned aside and vanished into a dense grove of +spruce with a haste which seemed to Peddler highly amusing in a beast of +such capacity and courage. He was content, however, to be so easily quit +of his dangerous advance guard.</p> + +<p>"A durn good thing for me," he mused, "that that there b'ar never got up +the nerve to call my bluff, or I might 'a' been layin' now where that +unlucky old bull-moose is layin', with a lot o' flies crawlin' over me."</p> + +<p>And as he trudged along the now easy and ordinary trail, he registered +two discreet resolutions—first, that never again would he cross Old +Bald Face without his gun <i>and</i> his axe; and second, that never again +would he cross Old Bald Face at all, unless he jolly well had to.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span></p> +<h2>The Morning of the Silver Frost</h2> + + +<p>All night the big buck rabbit—he was really a hare, but the +backwoodsman called him a rabbit—had been squatting on his form under +the dense branches of a young fir tree. The branches grew so low that +their tips touched the snow all round him, giving him almost perfect +shelter from the drift of the storm. The storm was one of icy rain, +which everywhere froze instantly as it fell. All night it had been busy +encasing the whole wilderness—every tree and bush and stump, and the +snow in every open meadow or patch of forest glade—in an armour of ice, +thick and hard and glassy clear. And the rabbit, crouching motionless, +save for an occasional forward thrust of his long, sensitive ears, had +slept in unwonted security, knowing that none of his night-prowling foes +would venture forth from their lairs on such a night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>At dawn the rain stopped. The cold deepened to a still intensity. The +clouds lifted along the eastern horizon, and a thin, icy flood of +saffron and palest rose washed down across the glittering desolation. +The wilderness was ablaze on the instant with elusive tongues and points +of coloured light—jewelled flames, not of fire, but of frost. The world +had become a palace of crystal and opal, a dream-palace that would +vanish at a touch, a breath. And, indeed, had a wind arisen then to +breathe upon it roughly, the immeasurable crystal would have shattered +as swiftly as a dream, the too-rigid twigs and branches would have +snapped and clattered down in ruin.</p> + +<p>The rabbit came out from under his little ice-clad fir tree, and, for +all his caution, the brittle twigs broke about him as he emerged, and +tinkled round him sharply. The thin, light sound was so loud upon the +stillness that he gave a startled leap into the air, landing many feet +away from his refuge. He slipped and sprawled, recovered his foothold, +and stood quivering, his great, prominent eyes trying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> to look in every +direction at once, his ears questioning anxiously to and fro, his +nostrils twitching for any hint of danger.</p> + +<p>There was no sight, sound, or scent, however, to justify his alarm, and +in a few seconds, growing bolder, he remembered that he was hungry. +Close by he noticed the tips of a little birch sapling sticking up above +the snow. These birch-tips, in winter, were his favourite food. He +hopped toward them, going circumspectly over the slippery surface, and +sat up on his hindquarters to nibble at them. To his intense surprise +and disappointment, each twig and aromatic bud was sealed away, +inaccessible, though clearly visible, under a quarter inch of ice. Twig +after twig he investigated with his inquiring, sensitive cleft nostrils, +which met everywhere the same chill reception. Round and round the +tantalising branch he hopped, unable to make out the situation. At last, +thoroughly disgusted, he turned his back on the treacherous birch bush +and made for another, some fifty yards down the glade.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>As he reached it he stopped short, suddenly rigid, his head half turned +over his shoulder, every muscle gathered like a spring wound up to +extreme tension. His bulging eyes had caught a movement somewhere behind +him, beyond the clump of twigs which he had just left. Only for a second +did he remain thus rigid. Then the spring was loosed. With a frantic +bound he went over and through the top of the bush. The shattered and +scattered crystals rang sharply on the shining snow-crust. And he sped +away in panic terror among the silent trees.</p> + +<p>From behind the glassy twigs emerged another form, snow-white like the +fleeting rabbit, and fled in pursuit—not so swiftly, indeed, as the +rabbit—with an air of implacable purpose that made the quarry seem +already doomed. The pursuer was much smaller than his intended victim, +very low on the legs, long-bodied, slender, and sinuous, and he moved as +if all compacted of whipcord muscle. The grace of his long, deliberate +bounds was indescribable. His head was triangular<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> in shape, the ears +small and close-set, the black-tipped muzzle sharply pointed, with the +thin, black lips upcurled to show the white fangs as if in a ferocious +but soundless snarl, and the eyes glowed red with blood-lust. Small as +it was, there was something terrible about the tiny beast, and its +pursuit seemed as inevitable as Fate. At each bound its steel-hard claws +scratched sharply on the crystal casing of the snow, and here and there +an icicle from a snapped twig went ringing silverly across the gleaming +surface.</p> + +<p>For perhaps fifty yards the weasel followed straight upon the rabbit's +track. Then he swerved to the right. He had lost sight of his quarry. +But he knew its habits in flight. He knew it would run in a circle, and +he took a chord of that circle, so as to head the fugitive off. He knew +he might have to repeat this manœuvre several times, but he had no +doubts as to the result. In a second or two he also had disappeared +among the azure shadows and pink-and-saffron gleams of the ice-clad +forest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>For several minutes the glade was empty, still as death, with the bitter +but delicate glories of the winter dawn flooding ever more radiantly +across it. On a sudden the rabbit appeared again, this time at the +opposite side of the glade. He was running irresolutely now, with little +aimless leaps to this side and to that, and his leaps were short and +lifeless, as if his nerve-power were getting paralysed. About the middle +of the glade he seemed to give up altogether, as if conquered by sheer +panic. He stopped, hesitated, wheeled round, and crouched flat upon the +naked snow, trembling violently, and staring, with eyes that started +from his head, at the point in the woods which he had just emerged from.</p> + +<p>A second later the grim pursuer appeared. He saw his victim awaiting +him, but he did not hurry his pace by a hair's-breadth. With the same +terrible deliberation he approached. Only his jaws opened, his long +fangs glistened bare; a blood-red globule of light glowed redder at the +back of his eyes.</p> + +<p>One more of those inexorable bounds, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> he would have been at his +victim's throat. The rabbit screamed.</p> + +<p>At that instant, with a hissing sound, a dark shadow dropped out of the +air. It struck the rabbit. He was enveloped in a dreadful flapping of +wings. Iron talons, that clutched and bit like the jaws of a trap, +seized him by the back. He felt himself partly lifted from the snow. He +screamed again. But now he struggled convulsively, no longer submissive +to his doom, the hypnotic spell cast upon him by the weasel being broken +by the shock of the great hawk's unexpected attack.</p> + +<p>But the weasel was not of the stuff or temper to let his prey be +snatched thus from his jaws. Cruel and wanton assassin though he was, +ever rejoicing to kill for the lust of killing, long after his hunger +was satisfied, he had the courage of a wounded buffalo. A mere darting +sliver of white, he sprang straight into the blinding confusion of those +great wings.</p> + +<p>He secured a hold just under one wing, where the armour of feathers was +thinnest, and began to gnaw inwards with his keen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> fangs. With a +startled cry, the hawk freed her talons from the rabbit's back and +clutched frantically at her assailant. The rabbit, writhing out from +under the struggle, went leaping off into cover, bleeding copiously, but +carrying no fatal hurt. He had recovered his wits, and had no idle +curiosity as to how the battle between his enemies would turn out.</p> + +<p>The hawk, for all her great strength and the crushing superiority of her +weapons, had a serious disadvantage of position. The weasel, maintaining +his deadly grip and working inwards like a bull-dog, had hunched up his +lithe little body so that she could not reach it with her talons. She +tore furiously at his back with her rending beak, but the amazingly +tough, rubbery muscles resisted even that weapon to a certain degree. At +last, securing a grip with her beak upon her adversary's thigh, she +managed to pull the curled-up body out almost straight, and so secured a +grip upon it with one set of talons.</p> + +<p>That grip was crushing, irresistible, but it was too far back to be +immediately fatal. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> weasel's lithe body lengthened out under the +agonising stress of it, but it could not pull his jaws from their grip. +They continued inexorably their task of gnawing inwards, ever inwards, +seeking a vital spot.</p> + +<p>The struggle went on in silence, as far as the voices of both combatants +were concerned. But the beating of the hawk's wings resounded on the +glassy-hard surface of the snow. As the struggle shifted ground, those +flapping wings came suddenly in contact with a bush, whose iced twigs +were brittle as glass and glittering like the prisms of a great crystal +candelabra. There was a shrill crash and a thin, ringing clatter as the +twigs shattered off and spun flying across the crust.</p> + +<p>The sound carried far through the still, iridescent spaces of the +wilderness. It reached the ears of a foraging fox, who was tip-toeing +with dainty care over the slippering crust. He turned hopefully to +investigate, trusting to get a needed breakfast out of some +fellow-marauder's difficulties. At the edge of the glade he paused, +peering through a bush of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> crystal fire to size up the situation before +committing himself to the venture.</p> + +<p>Desperately preoccupied though she was, the hawk's all-seeing eyes +detected the red outlines of the fox through the bush. With a frantic +beating of her wings she lifted herself from the snow. The fox darted +upon her with a lightning rush and a shattering of icicles. He was just +too late. The great bird was already in the air, carrying her deadly +burden with her. The fox leapt straight upwards, hoping to pull her +down, but his clashing jaws just failed to reach her talons. Labouring +heavily in her flight, she made off, striving to gain a tree-top where +she might perch and once more give her attention to the gnawing torment +which clung beneath her wing.</p> + +<p>The fox, being wise, and seeing that the hawk was in extremest straits, +ran on beneath her as she flew, gazing upwards expectantly.</p> + +<p>The weasel, meanwhile, with that deadly concentration of purpose which +characterises his tribe, paid no heed to the fact that he was journeying +through the air. And he knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> nothing of what was going on below. His +flaming eyes were buried in his foe's feathers, his jaws were steadily +working inwards toward her vitals.</p> + +<p>Just at the edge of the glade, immediately over the top of a branchy +young paper-birch which shot a million coloured points of light in the +sunrise, the end came. The fangs of the weasel met in the hawk's wildly +throbbing heart. With a choking burst of scarlet blood it stopped.</p> + +<p>Stone dead, the great marauder of the air crashed down through the slim +birch-top, with a great scattering of gleams and crystals. With +wide-sprawled wings she thudded down upon the snow-crust, almost under +the fox's complacent jaws. The weasel's venomous head, covered with +blood, emerged triumphant from the mass of feathers.</p> + +<p>As the victor writhed free, the fox, pouncing upon him with a careless +air, seized him by the neck, snapped it neatly, and tossed the long, +limp body aside upon the snow. He had no use for the rank, stringy meat +of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> weasel when better fare was at hand. Then he drew the hawk close +to the trunk of the young birch, and lay down to make a leisurely +breakfast.</p> + + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +<p class="center">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center">The following pages contain advertisements of books by the same author +or on kindred subjects.</p> + + +<h2>Neighbors Unknown</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS</h3> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "HOOF AND CLAW," ETC.</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Decorated cloth, illustrated, 12mo, $1.50</i></p> + +<p>"Mr. Roberts knows his animals intimately and writes about them with +understanding and reality."—<i>The Continent.</i></p> + +<p>"Whether viewed as stories, as natural history, or as literature, young +and old should lose no time in making the acquaintance of 'Neighbors +Unknown.'"—<i>N. Y. Times.</i></p> + +<p>"Few stories about animals have as strong a power to interest and +entertain or carry as deep a conviction of their truth and +reasonableness as those by Charles G. D. Roberts, which comprise the +volume 'Neighbors Unknown.'"—<i>Chicago Tribune.</i></p> + +<p>"What observation, what power of description is displayed in Charles G. +D. Roberts's latest volume of stories!"—<i>Bellman.</i></p> + + +<h2>Hoof and Claw</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS</h3> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "NEIGHBORS UNKNOWN," ETC.</p> + +<p class="center">With illustrations by <span class="smcap">Paul Bransom</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Ill., decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.35</i></p> + +<p>"Whoever loves the wilderness and its furred and feathered inhabitants +is always glad to know of a new book by Charles G. D. Roberts, whose +knowledge and sympathy with wild things is profound, but who never falls +into that danger of humanizing his characters."—<i>Springfield +Republican.</i></p> + +<p>"A great deal of keen observation has evidently gone into the making of +these tales ... city dwellers owe to this sort of book a debt which they +probably will never sufficiently pay, and that is to read +them."—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS</h4> + +<h2>THE BACKWOODSMEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50</i></p> + +<p class="center">Juvenile Library $.50</p> + +<p>"'The Backwoodsmen' shows that the writer knows the backwoods as the +sailor knows the sea. Indeed, his various studies of wild life in +general, whether cast in the world of short sketch or story or +full-length narrative, have always secured an interested public.... Mr. +Roberts possesses a keen artistic sense which is especially marked when +he is rounding some story to its end. There is never a word too much, +and he invariably stops when the stop should be made.... Few writers +exhibit such entire sympathy with the nature of beasts and birds as +he."—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + +<p>"When placed by the side of the popular novel, the strength of these +stories causes them to stand out like a huge primitive giant by the side +of a simpering society miss, and while the grace and beauty of the girl +may please the eye for a moment, it is to the rugged strength of the +primitive man your eyes will turn to glory in his power and simplicity. +In simple, forceful style Mr. Roberts takes the reader with him out into +the cold, dark woods, through blizzards, stalking game, encountering all +the dangers of the backwoodsmen's life, and enjoying the close contact +with Nature in all her moods. His descriptions are so vivid that you can +almost feel the tang of the frosty air, the biting sting of the snowy +sleet beating on your face, you can hear the crunch of the snow beneath +your feet, and when, after heartlessly exposing you to the elements, he +lets you wander into camp with the characters of the story, you stretch +out and bask in the warmth and cheer of the fire."—<i>Western Review.</i></p> + + +<h3>KINGS IN EXILE</h3> + +<p class="center">The Macmillan Fiction Library, Ill., 12mo, $.50</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50</i></p> + +<p>"More wonderful animal tales such as only Mr. Roberts can relate. With +accurate knowledge of the exiled beasts and a vivid imagination, +the author writes stories that are even more than usually +interesting."—<i>Book News Monthly.</i></p> + +<p>"It is surprising how much of the wilderness his wistful eye discovers +in a Central Park buffalo yard. For this gift of vision the book will be +read, a vision with its reminder of the scent of dark forests of fir, +the awful and majestic loneliness of sky-towering peaks, the roar of the +breakers and salty smell of the sea, the whispering silences of the +forests. We rise from its pages with the breath of the open spaces in +our lungs."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS</h4> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Author of</span> "<span class="smcap">Kings in Exile</span>," "<span class="smcap">The Backwoodsmen</span>," <span class="smcap">Etc.</span></p> + +<h3>Children of The Wild</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>With illustrations, cloth, 12 mo</i>, $1.35</p> + +<p>As might be inferred from the title of Charles G. D. Roberts' new book, +"Children of the Wild," the reader is brought very close to nature. Mr. +Roberts has written many stories about the wild, all of which have the +atmosphere which few writers are able to breathe into their books—the +atmosphere of outdoor life told with the sure touch of a recognized +authority. Here he writes for boys particularly, still of the creatures +of the forests and streams, but with a boy as the central human figure. +Babe and his Uncle Andy and Bill, the guide, are camping in the +wilderness. What they see and hear there suggest stories about young +animals, the "children of the wild." These tales are recounted by Uncle +Andy. In them Mr. Roberts shows that he knows his fellowmen fully as +well as he knows the lore of the woods and the haunts and habits of the +animals of the forest. Into his stories creep snatches of humor, +glimpses of tragedy, and the poignant touch of pathos, all of which make +his work natural. The present work should prove a most acceptable +remembrance to every boy who cares, and what boy does not, for a hearty +book of outdoor life.</p> + + +<h3>The Feet of the Furtive</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Decorated cloth, 12mo</i>, $1.35</p> + +<p class="center">Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Paul Bransom</span></p> + +<p>It is to be doubted whether there is a more popular animal writer to-day +than Charles G. D. Roberts, whose stories of forests and streams are +read with pleasure by young and old alike. In his present book are tales +of the bear, the bat, the seal, the moose, rabbit and other animals +written in his usual vivid style.</p> + +<p>"A great book for boys of all ages, and one that could have been written +only by Charles G. D. Roberts."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p> + + +<h3>JACK LONDON'S NEW BOOK</h3> + +<h2>The Turtles of Tasman</h2> + +<h4><i>$1.25</i></h4> + +<p>Here are brought together some of Mr. London's best short stories, +stories of adventure, of character, of unusual experiences in unusual +places. Here will be found <i>The Turtles of Tasman</i>, a tale of two +brothers as different in nature as it is possible for human beings to +be, and raising the old question as to which got the most out of life, +the one with possessions or the one with rich memories; here also <i>The +Eternity of Forms</i>, a mystery story dealing with a crime and its +expiation; here again <i>Told in the Drooling Ward</i>, a masterly bit of +writing which gives a human insight into the life of the inmates of a +home for feebleminded people. Among the other stories are noted <i>The +Hobo and the Fairy</i>, <i>The Prodigal Father</i>, <i>The First Poet</i>, <i>Finis</i> +and <i>The End of the Story</i>.</p> + + +<h3>Gold Must Be Tried by Fire</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> RICHARD AUMERLE MAHER</h4> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF "THE SHEPHERD OF THE NORTH."</p> + +<p>From the opening chapter when Daidie Grattan revolts at the "eternal +grind," defiantly destroys a valuable piece of machinery in the factory +where she is employed, and runs out into the open, this story is brimful +of action and character. In <i>The Shepherd of the North</i> Mr. Maher +demonstrated his ability to create tense situations. Here his skill is +once again seen and in addition he makes the reader acquainted with a +number of interesting people, not the least of whom are Daidie herself +and her ardent lover.</p> + + +<h3>The Key to Betsy's Heart</h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span> SARAH NOBLE IVES</h3> + +<p class="center"><i>Cloth, 12mo, $1.25</i></p> + +<p>This is the story of Betsy and her dog. Betsy is a little country girl +who, after her mother's death, is taken into the family of her Aunt +Kate, a wise and charming person whose duty it is to bring Betsy up +properly, while Betsy in turn has to bring up Van, a fox terrier. It is +the dog, of course, that proves to be the key to the shy girl's +heart—an extraordinarily nice "pup" whose education is carried on +simultaneously with Betsy's, only along different lines. Both as a dog +story and as a girl story <i>The Key to Betsy's Heart</i> is eminently +satisfying, and it is safe to conjecture that there will be many little +girls in real life and a few elders, too, who will be delighted with it.</p> + + +<h3>Pilot</h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">By</span> H. PLUNKETT GREEN</h4> + +<p>Pilot is a roguish and cunning dog who is an inveterate poacher and has +a distinct sense of humor. He always gets the best of the gamekeepers +and other enemies and laughs in their faces. About him Mr. Green has +woven a thoroughly enjoyable—and humorous—story. In addition to this +the book includes a number of other tales, one or two dealing with +fairies, with real charm and imagination, and others having to do with +boys and fishing.</p> + + +<p class="center"> +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York<br /> +</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Secret Trails, by Charles G. D. 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D. Roberts + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Secret Trails + +Author: Charles G. D. Roberts + +Release Date: November 27, 2010 [EBook #34454] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECRET TRAILS *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Josephine Paolucci +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + +THE SECRET TRAILS + + +[Illustration] + +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + +NEW YORK . BOSTON . CHICAGO . DALLAS +ATLANTA . SAN FRANCISCO + +MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED + +LONDON . BOMBAY . CALCUTTA +MELBOURNE + +THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. + +TORONTO + +[Illustration: He struggled frantically to drag himself up again upon +the ledge.] + + + + +THE + +SECRET TRAILS + +BY + +CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +Author of "The Feet of the Furtive," "Kings in Exile," etc. + +_ILLUSTRATED_ + +New York +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +1916 + +_All rights reserved_ + +Copyright, 1914, +By the Associated Sunday Magazines. + +Copyright, 1915, +By the National Sunday Magazine, +By the Red Book Corporation, and +By the Illustrated Sunday Magazine. + +Copyright, 1916, +By the International Magazine Company. + + +COPYRIGHT, 1916, +BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + +Set up and electrotyped. Published November, 1916. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +THE BLACK BOAR OF LONESOME WATER 1 + +THE DOG THAT SAVED THE BRIDGE 33 + +THE CALLING OF THE LOP-HORNED BULL 53 + +THE AIGRETTE 77 + +THE CABIN IN THE FLOOD 90 + +THE BROTHERS OF THE YOKE 115 + +THE TRAILERS 136 + +COCK-CROW 154 + +THE LEDGE ON BALD FACE 179 + +THE MORNING OF THE SILVER FROST 201 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +He struggled frantically to drag himself up + again upon the ledge _Frontispiece_ + + FACING PAGE +The black boar had wandered so far into the wilderness + that he was safe from pursuit 10 + +He only knew his lines were close ahead, and he must reach them 50 + +Black and huge against the pallid radiance towered a moose bull 56 + +The mother egret flapped blindly upon the top of the water 84 + +"This ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's + a Noah's Ark, that's what it be!" 102 + +He launched himself into the battle 132 + +Leaping upwards and striking downwards with his destroying heels 160 + + + + +THE SECRET TRAILS + + + + +The Black Boar of Lonesome Water + + +I + +The population of Lonesome Water--some fourscore families in +all--acknowledged one sole fly in the ointment of its self-satisfaction. +Slowly, reluctantly, it had been brought to confess that the breed of +its pigs was not the best on earth. They were small, wiry pigs, +over-leisurely of growth, great feeders, yet hard to fatten; and in the +end they brought but an inferior price in the far-off market town by the +sea, to which their frozen, stiff-legged carcases were hauled on sleds +over the winter's snow. It was decided by the village council that the +breed must be severely improved. + +They were a peculiar people, the dwellers about the remote and lovely +shores of Lonesome Water. They were the descendants of a company of +Welsh sectarians who, having invented a little creed of their own which +was the sole repository of truth and righteousness, had emigrated to +escape the contamination of their neighbours. They had come to Canada +because Canada was not crowded; and they had chosen the lovely valley of +Lonesome Water, not for its loveliness, but for its lonesomeness and its +fertility, and for the fact that it was surrounded by tracts of barren +land which might keep off the defilements of the world. Here they +devoted themselves to farming and to the contemplation of their own +superiority; and having a national appreciation of the value of a +half-penny, they prospered. + +As may easily be understood, it was no small thing for the people of +Lonesome Water to be forced, by the unanswerable logic of the market +price, to acknowledge that their pigs were inferior to the pigs of the +ungodly. Of course, there were many in the Settlement who refused flatly +to believe that this could be so. Providence could not be so +short-sighted as to permit it. But the majority faced the truth with +solemn resolution. And Morgan Fluellyn, the hog reeve of Lonesome Water, +was sent to K-ville, to interview the secretary of the provincial +agricultural society, and to purchase--if it could be done at a +bargain--some pigs of a pedigree worthy the end in view. + +In the eyes of Morgan Fluellyn--small, deep-set, choleric eyes--the town +of K-ville, with its almost two thousand inhabitants, its busy picture +show, its three pubs, its cheerful, friendly girls, who adorned their +hats with lavish flowers and feathers, was a place upon which the fires +of an outraged heaven might some day fall. He had no mind to be caught +in K-ville at the moment of this merited catastrophe. He lost no time in +putting through his business. + +When he found the secretary, and learned the price of pedigree pigs, his +indignation nearly choked him. With righteous sternness he denounced the +secretary, the society, and the Government, and stalked from the +office. But an hour in the air brought him to a clearer understanding, +and his ambitions on behalf of his community revived. Lonesome Water had +the truth. She had a monopoly of the virtues. She should also have pigs +that would command these outrageous prices. Why should the ungodly +triumph? + +And they did not--at least, not altogether. Morgan Fluellyn was allowed +to achieve a bargain. The mollified secretary consented to sell him, at +a reduced figure, a big black Berkshire boar, of unimpeachable breeding, +but small success in the show-pen, and in temper not to be relied on. +The great boar had a steel ring through his snout, and Fluellyn set out +with him proudly. Fluellyn was delighted with his prize, but it appeared +that his prize was not equally delighted with Fluellyn. In fact, the +great grunting beast was surly and cantankerous from the first. He would +look at his purchaser with a malign cunning in his eyes, and sometimes +make a slash at his leg with gnashing jaws. But Fluellyn was by no +means lacking in the valour and pugnacity of his race, and his patience +was of the shortest. By means of that rope through his captive's snout, +he had an advantage which he knew how to make the most of. The fringe of +fiery whisker, which haloed his red, clean-shaven cheeks and chin like a +ruff, fairly curled with wrath at the beast's presumption, and he +administered such discipline with his cudgel as he felt sure would not +soon be forgotten. + +After this, for mile upon mile of the lonely backwoods trail, there was +peace, and even an apparent unanimity of purpose, between Fluellyn and +his sullenly grunting charge. But the great black boar was not really +subdued. He was merely biding his time. And because he bided it +cunningly, his time came. + +The trail was bad, the going hard, for there was no unnecessary travel +either way between Lonesome Water and her neighbour settlements. +Fluellyn was tired. It was getting along in the afternoon. He sat down +on a log which lay invitingly by the side of the trail. From the bag of +feed which he carried on his back, he poured out a goodly allowance for +the black boar, being not unwilling to keep the brute amiable. Then he +seated himself on the log, in the caressing spring sunshine, and pulled +out his pipe. For Fluellyn smoked. It was his one concession to human +weakness, and it had almost lost him his election as hog-reeve. +Nevertheless, he smoked. The air was bland, and he, too, became almost +bland. His choleric eyes grew visionary. He forgot to distrust the black +boar. + +The perfidious beast devoured its feed with noisy enthusiasm, at the +same time watching Fluellyn out of the corner of its wicked little eye. +When the feed was finished, it flashed about without a ghost of a +warning and charged full upon Fluellyn. + +Behind the log on which Fluellyn sat the ground fell away almost +perpendicularly, perhaps, twelve or fifteen feet, to the edge of a +foaming brown trout-brook fringed with alders. As the boar charged, +Fluellyn sprang to his feet. At the same time he tried to spring +backwards. His heels failed to clear the log; and in this his luck was +with him, for the boar this time meant murder. He plunged headlong, with +a yell of indignation, over the steep. And the animal, checking itself +at the brink, glared down upon him savagely, gnashing its tusks. + +Fluellyn was quite seriously damaged by his fall. His head and forehead +were badly cut, so that his face was bathed in blood and dirt, through +which his eyes glared upward no less fiercely than those of his +adversary. His left arm was broken and stabbing at him with keen +anguish, but he was too enraged to notice his hurts, and if it had been +suggested to him that his fall had saved his life, he would have blown +up with fury. He flew at the face of the steep like a wild-cat, +struggling to scramble up it and get at the foe. But in this purpose, +luckily for him, he was foiled by his broken arm. The boar, too, though +eager to follow up his triumph, durst not venture the descent. + +For some minutes, therefore, the antagonists faced each other, the boar +leaning over as far as he could, with vicious squeals and grunts and +slaverings and gnashings, while the indomitable Fluellyn, with language +which he had never guessed himself capable of, and which would have +caused his instant expulsion from Lonesome Water, defied and reviled +him, and strove to claw up to him. At last the boar, who, being the +victor, could best afford it, grew tired of the game. Tossing his armed +snout in the air, he drew back from the brink and trotted off into the +fir-woods on the other side of the trail. Delighted with his first taste +of freedom, he kept on for some miles without a halt, till at last he +came to a pond full of lily leaves, with soft black mud about its edges. +Here he lay down and wallowed till his wrath cooled. Then he stretched +himself in the grass and went to sleep. + +As for Fluellyn, his wrath had no excuse for cooling, for the anguish of +his hurts at last diverted his attention from it, more or less. He +stumbled on down the stream till he reached a spot where he could get +up the bank. By this time he was feeling faint, and his angry eyes were +half blinded with the blood which he kept wiping from them with his +sleeve. Nevertheless, he returned to the scene of his overthrow, and +from that point, without a thought of prudence, took up the trail of the +boar through the fir thickets. But he was no expert in woodcraft at the +best of times, and the trail soon eluded him. Forced at last to confess +himself worsted for the moment, he made his way back to the log, +snatched up the bag of feed, that his enemy might not return and enjoy +it, and with dogged resolution set his face once more toward Lonesome +Water. + +When he arrived there, he was babbling in a fever. His appearance was a +scandal, and his language cleared the village street. There were many +who held that he had gone astray under the wicked influence of +K-ville--which was no more than they had always said would happen to a +man who smoked tobacco. But the majority were for not condemning him +when he was unable to defend himself. For three weeks he lay helpless. +And by the time he was well enough to tell his story, which was +convincing to all but the sternest of his censors, the black boar had +wandered so far into the wilderness that he was safe from pursuit. There +were no woodsmen in Lonesome Water cunning enough to follow up his +obscure and devious trail. + + +II + +In spite of the allurements of the lily pool, the black boar forsook it +after a couple of blissful days' wallowing. The _wanderlust_, choked +back for generations, had awakened in his veins. He pushed on, not +caring in what direction, for perhaps a fortnight. Though food was +everywhere abundant, he had always to work for it, so he grew lean and +hard and swift. The memory of a thousand years of servitude slipped from +him, as it were, in a night, and at the touch of the wilderness many of +the instincts and aptitudes of a wild thing sprang up in him. Only the +instinct of concealment, of stealth, was lacking to this new equipment +of his. He feared nothing, and he hunted nothing more elusive than +lily-roots; so he took no care to disguise his movements. + +[Illustration: The black boar had wandered so far into the wilderness +that he was safe from pursuit.] + +At first, because of the noise he made, the forest seemed to him to be +empty of all living things but birds. Then one day, as he lay basking in +the sun, he saw a wild-cat pounce upon a rabbit. At first he stared +curiously. But when he saw the wild-cat feasting on her prey, he decided +that he wanted the banquet for himself. As he burst through the bushes, +the great cat stared for an instant in utter amazement, never having +seen or dreamed of such an apparition. Then, her eyes like moons, her +six-inch bob-tail fluffed to a bottle-brush, and every hair stiffly on +end, she bounced into the nearest tree. There in a crotch she crouched, +spitting and yowling, while her enemy tranquilly devoured the rabbit. +The tit-bit was not altogether to his taste, but he chose to eat it +rather than let the great cat have it. And, after all, it was something +of a change from roots and fungi. + +Having thus discovered that rabbits were more or less edible, the black +boar thenceforward chased them whenever they crossed his path. He never +came anywhere near the catching of them, but, in spite of that, he was +not discouraged. Some day, perhaps, he would meet a rabbit that could +not run so fast as the others. + +Fond as the boar was of wallowing in the cool mud of the lily ponds, he +was, in reality, a stickler for personal cleanliness. When the mud was +dry, he would roll in the moss, and scratch himself till it was all +rubbed off, leaving his black bristles in perfect condition. His habits +were as dainty as a cat's, and his bed of dead leaves, in the heart of +some dense thicket, was always kept dry and fastidiously clean. + +One day, as he lay asleep in one of these shadowy lairs, a bear came by, +moving noiselessly in the hope of surprising a rabbit or a brooding +partridge. A breath of air brought to the great prowler's nostrils a +scent which seemed to him strongly out of place there in the depths of +the forest. He stopped, lifted his muzzle, and sniffed critically. Yes, +that smell was unquestionably pig. Once he had captured a fat young pig +on the outskirts of a settler's farm, and his jaws watered at the +delicious remembrance. + +Crouching low, he crept up toward the thicket, led by his discriminating +nose. His huge paws made no more sound than the gliding of a shadow. +Peering in through the tangle of twigs and leafage, he was able to make +out some black creature asleep. He paused suspiciously. The pig of his +remembrance was white and much smaller than the animal he saw before +him. Still, his nose assured him that this was pig all right. His +appetite hushed his prudence, and, crashing into the thicket, he hurled +himself upon the slumbering form. + +And then a strange thing--a most disconcerting thing--happened to him. +That slumbering form heaved up beneath him, grunting, and shot out +between his hind legs with a violence which pitched him forward on his +nose. Before he could recover himself, it wheeled about, looking many +times larger than he had imagined it to be, and charged upon him with an +ear-splitting squeal of rage. The shock bowled him clean over, so that +he rolled out of the thicket, and at the same time he got a tearing +slash down his flank. Startled quite out of his customary pugnacious +courage, he bawled like a yearling cub, scrambled to his feet, and took +to flight ignominiously. But the unknown fury behind him could run as +fast as he, and it clung to his heels, squealing horribly and rooting at +his rump with murderous tusks. In a panic he clawed his way up the +nearest tree. + +Finding himself no longer pursued, he turned and stared down from among +the branches. He saw that his victorious adversary was indeed a pig, but +such a pig! He felt himself most treacherously ill-used--betrayed, in +fact. It was out of all fitness that a pig should be so big, so black, +and so abrupt in manners. Had he dared to put the matter again to the +test, he might have avenged his defeat, for he was much the heavier of +the two, and immeasurably the better armed for battle. But he had no +stomach to face that squealing fury again. He crawled on up to a +convenient crotch, and lay there licking his scars and whimpering softly +to himself, his appetite for pork entirely spoiled. + +The boar, after ramping about beneath the tree for a matter of perhaps a +half hour, at last trotted off in disgust, confirmed in his arrogance. +This easy victory over so large and formidable a foe convinced him, had +he needed any convincing, that he was lord of the wilderness. Had he +chanced, about that time, to meet another bear, of sturdier resolution +than the first, he would have had a rude disillusionment. + +As it was, however, no later than the following day he had an adventure +which jarred his complacence. It taught him not exactly prudence, but, +at least, a certain measure of circumspection, which was afterwards to +profit him. It was just on the edge of evening, when the wilderness +world was growing vague with violet shadows, and new, delicate scents +were breathing from leaf and bush at the touch of the dew, that the +confident wanderer caught sight of a little black-and-white striped +animal. It was hardly as large as a rabbit. It was not the colour of a +rabbit. It had by no means the watchful, timorous air of a rabbit. As a +matter of fact, it was a skunk; but his far-off ancestors had neglected +to hand down to him any informatory instinct about skunks. He jumped to +the conclusion that it was a rabbit, all the same--perhaps the fat, slow +rabbit which he had been hoping to come across. He hurled himself upon +it with his utmost dash, determined that this time the elusive little +beast should not escape him. + +And it didn't. In fact, it hardly tried to. When he was within a few +feet of it, it jerked its long tail into the air, and at the same time +something dreadful and incomprehensible struck him in the face. It +struck him in the eyes, the nose, the mouth, all at the same time. It +scalded him, it blinded him, it suffocated him, it sickened him. He +tried to stop himself, but he was too late. His impetus carried him on +so that he trod down and killed the little animal without being aware of +it. + +In fact, he paid no attention whatever to his victory. All he cared +about, for the moment, was breath. His outraged lungs had shut up tight +to keep out the intolerable invader. At last they opened, with a hoarse +gasp of protest at being forced to. Having regained his breath, such as +it was, he wanted to see. But his eyes were closed with a burning, +clinging, oily stuff, which also clung foully in his nostrils and in his +mouth. He strove clumsily to rub them clear with his fore-hooves, and, +failing in this, he flung himself on his back with head outstretched and +rolled frantically in the moss. Achieving thus a measure of vision out +of one inflamed and blurred eye, he caught sight of a marshy pool +gleaming through the trees. Gasping, coughing, blundering into tree and +bush as he went, he rushed to the water's edge and plunged his outraged +features as deep as he could into the cool slime. There he rooted and +champed and wallowed till the torment grew less intolerable to all his +senses, and his lungs once more performed their office without a spasm. + +But still that deadly taint clung nauseatingly to his nostrils and his +palate; and at last, quite beside himself with the torment, he emerged +from the water and started on a mad gallop through the woods, trying to +run away from it. He ran till he sank exhausted and fell into a heavy +sleep. When he woke up, there was the smell still with him, and for days +he could scarcely eat for the loathing of it. + +Gradually, however, the clean air and the deodorizing forest scents made +him once more tolerable to himself. But the lesson was not forgotten. +When, one bright and wind-swept morning, he came face to face with a +young porcupine, he stopped politely. The porcupine also stopped and +slowly erected its quills till its size was almost doubled. The boar was +much surprised. This sudden enlargement, indeed, was so +incomprehensible that it angered him. The strange absence of fear in the +nonchalant little creature also angered him. He was inclined to rush +upon it at once and chew it up. But the fact that its colour was more or +less black-and-white gave him a painful reminder of his late experience. +Perhaps this was another of those slow rabbits! He checked himself and +sniffed suspiciously. The stranger, with a little grumbling squeak, came +straight at him--not swiftly, or, indeed, angrily, but with a confident +deliberation that was most upsetting. The boar was big enough to have +stamped the porcupine's life out with one stroke of his hoof. But +instead of standing up to his tiny challenger, he turned tail and bolted +off squealing through the undergrowth as if nothing less than a troop of +lions were after him. + + +III + +The course of the black boar's wanderings brought him out at last upon +the desolate northern shores of Lonesome Water. At night he could +sometimes see, miles away across the lake, a gleam of the discreet +lights of the Settlement--perhaps, indeed, from the windows of Morgan +Fluellyn himself, whose cottage was close down on the waterside. This +northern shore, being mostly swamp and barren, was entirely ignored by +the dwellers in Lonesome Water Settlement, who were satisfied with their +own fertile fields, and not of an inquiring temperament. But it offered +the black boar just the retreat he was now in search of. Tired of +wandering, he found himself a lair in a dense and well-drained thicket +near the bank of a lilied stream which here wound slowly through reeds +and willows to the lake. + +Here, with food abundant, and never skunk or smell of skunk to challenge +his content, he wallowed and rooted the gold-and-green summer away and +found life good. He was not troubled by forebodings of the winter, +because he had never known anything of winter beyond the warmth of a +well-provided pen. + +One dreamy and windless afternoon in late September, when a delicate +bluish haze lay over the yellowing landscape, a birch canoe was pushed +in among the reeds, and a woodsman in grey homespun stepped ashore. He +was gaunt and rugged of feature, with quiet, keen, humorous eyes, and he +moved in his soft hide "larrigans" as lightly as a cat. He knew of a +little ice-cold spring in this neighbourhood not far from the river +bank, and he never passed the spot without stopping to drink deep at its +preternaturally crystal flow. + +He had not gone more than fifty yards up the shore when his eye was +caught by a most unusual trail. He stopped to examine it. As he did so, +a sudden crash in the bushes made him turn his head sharply. A massive +black shape, unlike anything he had ever seen before, was charging down +upon him. Whatever it was--and he remembered a picture he had once seen +of a wild boar charging a party of hunters--he knew it meant mischief of +the worst kind. And he had left his gun in the canoe. Under the +circumstances, he was not too proud to run. He ran well, which was +lucky for him. As he swung up his long legs into the branches, the black +boar reared himself against the trunk, gnashing his tusks and squealing +furiously. The man, from his safe perch, looked down upon him +thoughtfully for perhaps a whole minute. + +"Well, I'll be durned!" he ejaculated at last, getting out his pipe and +slowly filling it. "Ef 'tain't Fluellyn's pig! To think Jo Peddler 'ld +ever have to run from a pig!" + +For perhaps a half hour Peddler sat there and smoked contentedly enough, +with the patience which the wilderness teaches to all its children. He +expected his gaoler to go away and let him make a dash for the canoe. +But presently he concluded that the boar had no intention of going away. +If so, it was time to do something if he wanted to get across the lake +before dark. + +He cleaned the ashes out of his pipe and saved them carefully. Then he +refilled the pipe very loosely and smoked it violently half through, +which yielded him another collection of pungent ash. He repeated the +process several times, till he judged he had enough of the mixture--ash +and dry, powdered tobacco. Then, grinning, he let himself down till he +was barely out of reach, and began to tease and taunt his gaoler till +the surly beast was beside itself with rage, snorting and squealing and +rearing itself against the trunk in its efforts to get at him. At +length, with infinite pains and precision, he sifted the biting mixture +into his adversary's eyes and wide, snorting nostrils. By great good +luck he managed to hit the mark exactly. How he wished the stuff had +been pepper! + +At the result he nearly fell out of the tree with ecstasy. The boar's +squeal was cut short by a paroxysm of choking and coughing. The great +animal nearly fell over backwards. Then, remembering his ancient +experience with the skunk, he rushed blindly for the water, his eyes, +for the most part, screwed up tight, so that he crashed straight through +everything that stood in his path. Peddler dropped from his refuge and +ran for his canoe, laughing delightedly as he ran. What little grudge +he owed the animal for his temporary imprisonment, he felt to have been +amply repaid, and he was glad he had not yielded to his first impulse +and emptied the hot coals from his pipe into its nostrils. + +"I'll be givin' yer compliments to Fluellyn," he shouted, as he paddled +away, "an' likely he'll be over to call on ye afore long!" + + +IV + +Jo Peddler had small love for the peculiar community of Lonesome Water. +He never visited it except under the necessity of buying supplies for +his camp. He used to swear that its very molasses was sour, that its tea +was so self-righteous that it puckered his mouth. He never slept under +one of its roofs, choosing, rather, to pitch his tent in the patch of +dishevelled common on the outskirts of the village. + +On the morning after his interview with the black boar, he was making +his purchases at the village grocery--a "general" shop which sold also +hardware, dry goods, and patent medicines, and gave a sort of +disapproving harbourage to the worldly postoffice--when Morgan Fluellyn +dropped in, nodded non-committally, and sat down on a keg of nails. To +Peddler the bad-tempered little Welshman was less obnoxious than most of +his fellow-villagers, both because he was so far human as to smoke +tobacco, and because his reputation and self-satisfaction had been +damaged by the episode of the pedigree boar. There was little tenderness +toward damaged goods, or anything else, in Lonesome Water, so the +woodsman felt almost friendly toward Fluellyn. + +"What'll ye be givin' me," he inquired, proffering his plug of choice +tobacco, "ef I git yer pig back fer ye?" + +Fluellyn so far forgot himself as to spring eagerly to his feet. His +fringe of red whisker fairly curled forward to meet Peddler's +suggestion. If he could restore the precious animal to the community, +his prestige would be re-established. Moreover, his own sore shaken +self-esteem would lift its head and flourish once again. + +"I'd pay ye right well, Jo Peddler," he declared, forgetting his native +prudence in a bargain. "Can ye do it, man?" + +"I can that," replied Peddler. And the storekeeper, with a half-filled +kerosene tin in his hand, came forward to listen. + +"I'm a poor man," went on Fluellyn, recollecting himself with a jerk and +sitting down again on the nail keg. "I'm a poor man, as Mr. Perley +here'll tell ye, an' I've already had to pay for the pig out o' my own +pocket. An' it's cost me a fearful sum for the doctor. But I've said I +want the pig back, and I'd pay ye well. An' I won't go back on my word. +What'll ye take now?" + +"I know ye've been playing in hard luck, Fluellyn," said the woodsman +genially, "an' I ain't a-drivin' no bargain. I know what that there pig +cost ye down to K-ville. But he ain't no manner o' use to me. He ain't +what ye'd call a household pet, as ye'll agree. I'll find him and ketch +him an' deliver him to ye, sound in wind an' limb, down here at the +landin', if ye'll promise to pay me four pound for my trouble when the +job's rightly done. An' Mr. Perley here's my witness." + +Fluellyn drew a sigh of relief. He thought the woodsman a fool to be so +moderate, but he was not without an inkling of the truth that this +moderation was due to generosity and kindness rather than to folly. To +his amazement, he felt a prompting to be generous himself. + +"Tell ye what I'll do," said he, springing up again and grasping +Peddler's hand. "If ye'll take me along an' let me help ye fix him, I'll +make it five pound instead o' four. He done me bad, an' I'd like to git +square." + +"All right," said Peddler, with an understanding grin. + +On the following morning Peddler and Fluellyn set out for the north +shore of the lake. They went in a roomy row-boat, and they carried with +them an assortment of ropes and straps. They started very early, just on +the edge of dawn; for even here, in Lonesome Water, were to be found +certain spirits so imperfectly regenerate as to be not above curiosity, +not above a worldly itching to see the outcome of the venture; and +Peddler would have no marplots about to risk the upsetting of his plans. + +When they set out, the unruffled surface of the lake lay gleaming in +vast, irregular breadths and patches of polished steel-grey and ethereal +ice-blue and miraculous violet-silver, so beautiful that Peddler almost +shrank from breaking the charmed stillness with his oars, and even +Fluellyn felt strange stirrings within him of a long-atrophied sense of +beauty. The village of Lonesome Water slumbered heavily, with windows +and hearts alike close shut. + +The sun was high in the hot blue when the boat, with stealthy oars, +crept in among the reeds and made a noiseless landing. + +"If ye stir a foot outside the boat till I call to ye, Fluellyn, the +bargain's off, an' ye kin ketch the pig yerself," admonished Peddler in +a whisper, as he stole up the shore with a coil of ropes over his left +arm and a steel-shod canoe-pole in his right hand. + +He kept a wary eye on the thicket which he judged to be the black boar's +lair, until he was close to the foot of the tree in which he had +previously taken refuge. Then he coughed loudly, announcing his +presence. But there was no response from the thicket. + +"Come out o' that, ye black divil, an' I'll truss ye up like a bale o' +hay!" he shouted. + +As if this inducement was something quite irresistible, came a sudden +crashing, not in the thicket he was watching, but in the bushes directly +behind him, not a dozen paces away. Without stopping to look round, he +dropped his pole and jumped for the tree. + +"Bad luck to ye," he growled, as he gained his perch just in time, +"taking a feller by surprise that way!" + +As the beast squealed and ramped below, Peddler leaned down from his +perch and flicked it smartly with one of his lengths of rope, till it +was jumping up and down and almost bursting with rage. Then, securing +the rope to a stout branch, he made a slip-knot in the end of it and +tried to throw it over the boar's fore-leg. After half a dozen failures, +he made a lucky cast and instantly drew the noose tight. + +Instead of being daunted at this, the boar again rushed furiously at the +tree, rearing himself against it in a repetition of his former tactics. +This gave Peddler just the chance he wanted. + +"That's where ye've made the mistake, now," said he sympathetically, and +dropped another noose well over the beast's snout, beyond the tusks. As +he drew it tight, he took up the slack of both ropes in a deft hitch +over the branch; and the boar found itself strung up against the trunk, +dancing frantically on its hind legs, and no longer able even to squeal +effectively. + +"Maybe ye'll be a mite more civil now," mocked Peddler, and dropped +lightly from his branch to the ground. + +In half a minute he had whipped the frantic boar's two front legs +together, also its two hind legs, run a sliding rope from the one pair +to the other, and muzzled the formidable jaws more securely with a +leather skate-strap. Then he freed the ropes from above and lowered his +prisoner carefully to the ground, where it struggled madly till he drew +its fore legs and hind legs close together by means of the sliding rope. +Thus trussed up, it seemed at last to realize its defeat, and lay still +upon its side, breathing heavily, which, indeed, was about the only form +of activity left to it. Peddler stood off and surveyed his captive +benignantly as he filled his pipe. "Fluellyn," he called, "ye kin come +now an' have a talk with yer pig!" + +With a bound, Fluellyn came up the bank, burning to avenge his +humiliations, his cheeks glowing in their halo of crisp red whisker. But +at sight of the great boar lying trussed up so ignobly his face fell. + +"Why didn't ye let me have a hand in the job?" he demanded resentfully. + +"Sorry," said Peddler, "but it couldn't be done nohow. Ye'd hev spiled +the whole game, an' like as not got yer gizzard ripped. Now ye've got +him, I allow ye hain't got nawthin' to grumble at." And he waited +curiously to see what the little Welshman would do to relieve his +feelings. + +But Fluellyn, with all his faults, was not the man to kick a fallen foe. +For some moments he eyed the helpless black monster with so sinister a +gaze that Peddler thought he was devising some cruel vengeance, and made +ready to interfere, if necessary. But all Fluellyn did, in the end, was +to go over and seat himself comfortably on the great beast's panting +flank and proceed to fill his pipe. + +"It's goin' to be a hefty job a-gettin' him into the boat," said he at +length, sternly repressing the note of exultation that _would_ creep +into his voice. + + + + +The Dog that saved the Bridge + + +I + +The old canal lay dreaming under the autumn sun, tranquil between its +green banks and its two rows of stiffly-rimmed bordering poplars. Once a +busy highway for barges, it was now little more than a great drainage +ditch, with swallow and dragon-flies darting and flashing over its +seldom ruffled surface. Scattered here and there over the fat, green +meadows beyond its containing dykes, fat cows lay lazily chewing the +cud. + +It was a scene of unmarred peace. To the cows nothing could have seemed +more impregnable than their security. Off south-westward and southward, +to be sure, the horizon was columned, decoratively but ominously, by +pillars of dense smoke, sharp against the turquoise sky. But such +phenomena, however novel, failed to stir the cows to even the mildest +curiosity. The spacious summer air, however, was entertaining a strange +riot of noises. It thumped and throbbed and thundered. It seemed to be +ripped across from time to time with a dry, leisurely sound of tearing. +Again, it would be suddenly shattered with enormous earth-shaking +crashes. But all this foolish tumult was in the distance, and it gave +the cows not the slightest concern. It had not interfered with the +excellent quality of the pasturage; it had not disturbed the regularity +of milking-time. + +Strategically considered, the lazy old canal led from nowhere to +nowhere, and the low levels through which it ran were aside from the +track of the fighting. The peasant folk on their little farms still went +about their business, but very quietly and with lowered voices, as if +hoping thus to avoid the eye of Fate. + +Along the grass-grown towpath, marching in half-sections, came a tiny +detachment of long-coated Belgian riflemen with a machine-gun. The +deadly little weapon, on its two-wheeled toy carriage, was drawn by a +pair of sturdy, brindled dogs--mongrels, evidently, showing a dash of +bull and a dash of retriever in their make-up. They were not as large as +the dogs usually employed by the Belgians in this kind of service, but +they were strong, and keen on their job. Digging their strong toes into +the turf, they threw their weight valiantly into the straps, and pressed +on, with tongues hanging out and what looked like a cordial grin on +their panting jaws. They seemed desperately afraid of being left behind +by their quick-marching comrades. + +The little band kept well under the trees as they went, lest some +far-scouting aeroplane should catch sight of them. In the south-eastern +sky, presently, an aeroplane--a Taube--did appear; but it was so distant +that the young lieutenant in command of the detachment, after examining +it carefully with his field-glasses, concluded that it was little likely +to detect his dark line moving under the trees. The Taube, that +execrated dove of death, was spying over the Belgian trenches, and +doubtless daring a hot fire from the Belgian rifles. Once it made a +wide sweep north-westward, rapidly growing larger, and the little band +under the trees lay down, hiding themselves and the gun behind the dyke. +Then its flight swerved back over the Belgian lines, and the commander, +lowering his glasses with a deep breath of relief, gave the order to +march. Two minutes later, around the questing aeroplane appeared a +succession of sudden fleecy puffs of smoke, looking soft and harmless as +cotton-wool. One of these came just before the nose of the aeroplane. +Next moment the machine gave a great swooping dive, righted itself, +dived again, and dropped like a stone. + +"Thank God for that!" muttered the young lieutenant, and his men cheered +grimly under their breath. + +Three minutes later the detachment came to an old stone bridge. Here it +halted. The men began hastily entrenching themselves where they could +best command the approaches on the other side. The machine-gun, lifted +from its little carriage, was placed cunningly behind a screen of reeds. +The two dogs, panting, lay down in their harness under a thick bush. In +an amazingly brief time the whole party was so hidden that no one +approaching from the other side of the canal could have guessed there +was anything more formidable in the neighbourhood than the ruminating +cows. + +The neglected, almost forgotten, old bridge had suddenly leapt into +importance. Reinforcements for the sore-pressed division to the +south-east were being sent around by the north of the canal, and were to +cross by the bridge. The detachment had been sent to guard the bridge at +all costs from any wide-roving patrols of Uhlans who might take it into +their heads to blow it up. In war it is a pretty safe principle to blow +up any bridge if you are quite sure you won't be wanting it yourself. +The fact that the other side has spared it is enough to damn it +off-hand. + +The tumult of the far-off gunfire was so unremitting that the ears of +the bridge-guard gradually came to accept it as a mere background, +against which small, insignificant sounds, if sudden and unexpected, +became strangely conspicuous. The crowing of a cock in the farmyard a +few fields off, the sharp cry of a moorhen, the spasmodic gabbling of a +flock of fat ducks in the canal--these small noises were almost as +clearly differentiated as if heard in a stark silence. + +For perhaps an hour the detachment had lain concealed, when those +ominous pillars of smoke against the sky were joined suddenly by swarms +of the little white puffs of cotton-wool, and the confused noises +redoubled in violence. The battle was swaying nearer and spreading +around a swiftly widening arc of the low horizon. Then another +aeroplane--another bird-like Taube--came in view, darting up from a +little south of west. The young lieutenant, in his hiding-place beside +the bridge-head clapped his glasses anxiously to his eyes. Yes, the +deadly flier was heading straight for this position. Evidently the +Germans knew of that out-of-the-way bridge, and in their eyes also, for +some reason, it had suddenly acquired importance. The Taube was coming +to see in what force it was held. + +"Spies again!" he grunted savagely, turning to explain to his men. + +Flying at a height of only five or six hundred metres, the Taube flew +straight over them. There was no longer any use in attempting +concealment. The riflemen opened fire upon it furiously as soon as it +came within range. It was hit several times; but the Taube is a steel +machine, well protected from below, and neither the pilot nor any vital +part of the mechanism was damaged. It made haste, however, to climb and +swerve away from so hot a neighbourhood. But first, as a message of +defiance, it dropped a bomb. The bomb fell sixty or seventy yards away +from the bridge back in the meadow, among a group of cows. The explosion +killed one cow and wounded several. The survivors, thus rudely shocked +out of their indifference, stamped off down the field, tails in air and +bellowing frantically. + +"That cooks _our_ goose," snapped one of the riflemen concisely. + +"Their shells'll be dead on to us in ten minutes' time," growled +another. And all cursed soberly. + +"I don't think so," said the young lieutenant, after a moment's +hesitation. "They want the bridge, so they won't shell it. But you'll +see they'll be on to us shortly with their mitrailleuse and half a +battalion or so, enough to eat us up. We've got to get word back _quick_ +to the General for reinforcements, or the game's up." + +"I'll go, my lieutenant," said Jean Ferreol, an eager, dark Walloon, +springing to his feet. + +The lieutenant did not answer for some moments. He was examining through +his glasses a number of mounted figures, scattering over the plains to +the rear in groups of two and three. Yes, they were Uhlans +unquestionably. The line of combat was shifting eastward. + +"No," said he, "you can't go, Jean. You'd never get through. The Bosches +are all over the place back there now. And you wouldn't be in time, +even if you did get through. I'll send one of the dogs." + +He tore a leaf out of his note-book and began scribbling. + +"Better send both dogs, my lieutenant," said Jan Steen, the big, +broad-built Fleming who had charge of the machine-gun, unharnessing the +dogs as he spoke. "Leo's the cleverest, and he'll carry the message +right; but he won't have his heart in the job unless you let Dirck go +along with him. They're like twins. Moreover, the two together wouldn't +excite suspicion like one alone. One alone the Bosches would take for a +messenger dog, sure, but two racing over the grass might seem to be just +playing." + +"_Bon!_" said the young lieutenant. "Two strings to our bow." + +He hurriedly made a duplicate of his dispatch. The papers were folded +small and tied under the dogs' collars. Big Jan spoke a few words +crisply and decisively in Flemish to Leo, who watched his lips eagerly +and wagged his tail as if to show he understood. Then he spoke +similarly, but with more emphasis and reiteration, to Dirck, at the same +time waving his arm toward the distant group of roofs from which the +detachment had come. Dirck looked anxiously at him and whined, and then +glanced inquiringly at Leo, to see if _he_ understood what was required +of them. He was almost furiously willing, but not so quick to catch an +idea as his more lively yoke-fellow. Big Jan repeated his injunctions +yet again, with unhurried patience, while his leader fumed behind him. +Jan Steen knew well that with a dog, in such circumstances, one must be +patient though the skies fall. At last Dirck's grin widened, his tail +wagged violently, and his low whining gave way to a bark of elation. + +"He's got it," said Jan, with slow satisfaction. He waved his arm, and +the two dogs dashed off as if they had been shot out of a gun, keeping +close along the inner base of the dyke. + +"Dirck's got it," repeated Jan, with conviction, "and nothing will put +it out of his head till he's done the job." + + +II + +Side by side, racing wildly like children just let out from school, the +two dogs dashed off through the grass along the base of the dyke. Leo, +the lighter in build and in colour, and the more conspicuous by reason +of a white fore-leg, was also the lighter in spirits. Glad to be clear +of the harness and proud of his errand, he was so ebullient in his +gaiety that he could spare time to spring into the air now and again and +snap at a low-fluttering butterfly. The more phlegmatic Dirck, on the +other hand, was too busy keeping his errand fixed in his mind to waste +any interest on butterflies, though he was ready enough to gambol a bit +whenever his volatile comrade frolicked into collision with him. + +Soon--Leo leading, as usual--they quitted the dyke and started off +across the open meadows toward the hottest of the firing. A couple of +patrolling Uhlans, some distance off to the right, caught sight of +them, and a bullet whined complainingly just over their heads. But the +other Uhlan, the one who had not fired, rebuked his companion for +wasting ammunition. "Can't you see they're just a couple of puppies +larking round?" he asked scornfully. "Suppose you thought they were Red +Cross." + +"Thought they might be dispatch dogs, Herr Sergeant," answered the +trooper deprecatingly. + +"Well, they're not, blockhead," grunted the cocksure sergeant. And the +two rode on, heading diagonally toward the canal. + +The dogs, at the sound of the passing bullet, had crouched flat to the +ground. When the sound was not repeated, however, they sprang up and +continued their journey, Leo, excited but not terrified, more inclined +to frolic than ever, while Dirck, who by some obscure instinct had +realized that the shot was not a chance one, but a direct personal +attack, kept looking back and growling at the pair of Uhlans. + +But though Leo, the exuberant, gambolled as he ran, he ran swiftly, none +the less, so swiftly that plodding Dirck had some trouble to keep up +with him. Ten minutes more, and they ran into the zone of fire. Bullets +hummed waspishly over them, but, after a moment's hesitation, they raced +on, flattening themselves belly to earth. The German infantry were in +position, quite hidden from view, some six or seven hundred yards to the +right. They were firing at an equally invisible line of Belgians, who +were occupying a drainage ditch some three hundred yards to the left. +The two dogs had no way of knowing that the force on their left was a +friendly one, so they kept straight on beneath the crossfire. Had they +only known, their errand might have been quickly accomplished. + +A little farther on, the grass-land came to an end, and there was a +naked, sun-baked stubble-field to cross. As the two raced out over this +perilous open space, the battle deepened above them. The fire from the +Belgian side went high over the dogs' heads, seeking the far-off target +of the enemy's prostrate lines. But the German fire was sighted for too +close a range, and the bullets were falling short. Here and there one +struck with a vicious spat close to the runners' feet. Here and there a +small stone would fly into the air with a sudden inexplicable impulse, +or a bunch of stubble would hop up as if startled from its root-hold. A +ball just nicked the extreme tip or Dirck's tail, making him think a +hornet had stung him. With a surprised yelp, he turned and bit at his +supposed assailant. Realizing his mistake in a second, he drooped the +injured member sheepishly and tore on after Leo, who had by now got a +score of paces ahead. + +Next moment a shrapnel shell burst overhead with a shattering roar. Both +dogs cowered flat, shivering. There was a smart patter all about them, +and little spurts of dust, straw, and dry earth darted upwards. The +shrapnel shell was doubtless a mere stray, an ill-calculated shot +exploding far from its target. But to Leo it seemed a direct attack upon +himself. And well he knew what was the proper thing to do under such +circumstances. Partly by instruction, partly by natural sagacity, he had +assimilated the vital precept: "When the firing gets too hot, dig +yourself in." With his powerful fore-paws he attacked the stubble, +making the dry earth fly as if he were trying to dig out a badger. Dirck +watched him wonderingly for a moment or two, till a venomous swarm of +bullets just over his head seemed to let light in upon his +understanding. He fell to copying Leo with vehement enthusiasm. In a +brief space each dog had a burrow deep enough to shelter him. Dirck +promptly curled himself up in his, and fell to licking his wounded tail. +But Leo, burning to get on with his errand, kept bobbing up his head +every other second to see how the bullets were striking. + +Another shrapnel shell burst in the air, but farther away than the +first, and Leo marked where the little spurts of dust arose. They were +well behind him. The rifle bullets pinging overhead were higher now, as +the Germans were getting the range of the Belgian line. The coast +seemed clear enough. He scrambled from his hole and dashed onward down +the field, yelping for Dirck to follow. And Dirck was at his heels in +half a second. + +The tiny canal-side village which was the goal of these two devoted +messengers was by this time less than a mile away and straight ahead. +When they left it with the machine-gun that morning, it had seemed a +little haven of peace. Now the battle was raging all about it. The tall +church spire, which had risen serenely above its embosoming trees, had +vanished, blown off by a shell. A cottage was burning merrily. Those +harmless-looking puffs of cotton-wool were opening out plenteously above +the clustered roofs. But all these things made no difference to these +two four-footed dispatch-bearers who carried the destiny of the bridge +beneath their collars. They had been ordered to take their dispatches to +the village, and to the village they would go, whether it had become an +inferno or not. + +But now the spectacle of the two dogs racing desperately toward the +village under the storm of lead and shell had caught the attention of +both sides. There was no mistaking them now for frolicsome puppies. +There was no question, either, as to which side they belonged to. The +German bullets began to lash the ground like hail all about them. Leo, +true to his principles, stopped at a tiny depression and once more, with +feverish eagerness, began to dig himself in. The earth flew from his +desperate paws. In another minute he would have achieved something like +cover. But a German sharpshooter got the range of him exactly. A bullet +crashed through his sagacious brain, and he dropped, with his muzzle +between his legs, into his half-dug burrow. + +But Dirck, meanwhile, had for once refused to follow his leader's +example. His goal was too near. He saw the familiar uniforms. Above the +din he could detect the cries and calls of encouragement from his +people. Every faculty in his valiant and faithful being bent itself to +the accomplishment of his errand. The bullets raining about him +concerned him not at all. The crash of a shrapnel shell just over him +did not even make him cock an eye skyward. The shrapnel bullets raised +jets of dust before and behind him and on either side. But not one +touched him. He knew nothing of them. He only knew his lines were close +ahead, and he must reach them. + +The Belgians cheered and yelled, and poured in a concentrated fire on +that section of the enemy which was attacking the dog. For a few seconds +that small, insignificant, desperate four-footed shape drew upon itself +the undivided attention of several thousand men. It focussed the battle +for the moment. It was only a brindled dog, yet upon its fate hung +immense and unknown issues. Every one knew now that the devoted animal +was carrying a message. The Germans suddenly came to feel that to +prevent the delivery of that message would be like winning a battle. The +Belgians turned a battery from harrying a far-off squadron of horse to +shell the lines opposite, in defence of the little messenger. Men fell +by the score on both sides to decide that unexpected contest. + +[Illustration: He only knew his lines were close ahead, and he must +reach them.] + +And still Dirck raced on, heedless of it all. + +Then, within fifty yards of the goal, he fell. A bullet had smashed one +of his legs. He picked himself up again instantly and hobbled forward, +trailing the mangled limb. But the moment he fell, a score of riflemen +had leapt from their lines and dashed out to rescue him. Three dropped +on the way out. Half a dozen more fell on the way back. But Dirck, +whining and licking his rescuers' hands, was carried to shelter behind +the massive stone wall of the inn yard, where the Brigadier and his +officers were receiving and sending out dispatches. + +An aide drew the message from under Dirck's collar and handed it, with a +word of explanation, to the General. The latter read it, glanced at the +time on the dispatch and then at his watch, and gave hurried orders for +strong reinforcements to be rushed up to the old bridge. Then he looked +at Dirck, whose shattered leg was being dressed by an orderly. + +"That dog," he growled, "has been worth exactly three regiments to us. +He's saved the bridge and he's saved three regiments from being cut off. +See that he's well looked after, and cured as soon as possible. He's a +good soldier, and we'll want him again." + + + + +The Calling of the Lop-horned Bull + + +I + +The harvest moon hung globed and honey-coloured over the glassy +wilderness lake. In the unclouded radiance the strip of beach and the +sand-spit jutting out from it were like slabs of pure ivory between the +mirroring steel-blue of the water and the brocaded dark of the +richly-foliaged shore. + +Behind a screen of this rich foliage--great drooping leaves of water-ash +and maple--sat the figure of a man with his back against a tree, almost +indistinguishable in the confusion of velvety shadows. His rifle leaning +against the tree-trunk beside him, a long, trumpet roll of birch-bark in +his hands, he peered forth through the leaves upon the shining +stillness, while his ears listened so intently that every now and then +they would seem to catch the whisper of his own blood rushing through +his veins. But from the moonlit wilds came not a sound except, from +time to time, that vast, faint, whispering sigh, inaudible to all but +the finest ears, in which the ancient forest seems to breathe forth its +content when there is no wind to jar its dreams. + +Joe Peddler had settled himself in a comfortable position in his +hiding-place in order that he might not have to move. He was out to call +moose, and he knew the need of stillness. He knew how far and how +inexplicably the news of an intruder would travel through the wild; but +he knew also how quickly the wild forgets that news, if only the +intruder has craft enough to efface himself. If only he keeps quite +still for a time, the vigilant life of the wild seems to conclude that +he is dead, and goes once more about its furtive business. + +Presently Joe Peddler reached out for his rifle and laid it across his +knees. Then he raised the trumpet of birch-bark to his lips and uttered +through it the strange, hoarse cry of the cow-moose calling to her mate. +It was a harsh note and discordant, a sort of long-drawn, bleating +bellow; yet there was a magic in its uncouth appeal which made it seem +the one appropriate voice of those rude but moon-enchanted wilds. + +Joe Peddler was such an expert with the birch-bark horn that his +performance with it could deceive not only the bull, but also the wary +cow, or a cow-stalking bear, or, at times, even an experienced and +discriminating fellow-woodsman. He would call twice or thrice, and stop +and listen for several minutes, confident that on such a glamorous night +as this he would not have long to wait for a response to his lying call. + +And he had not. When the bull-moose comes to the call of the cow, he +comes sometimes noisily and challengingly, with a crashing of underbrush +and a defiant thrashing of his great antlers upon branch and tree as he +pounds through them. At other times he comes as softly as the flight of +an owl. + +Peddler looked out upon the empty whiteness of the beach. He dropped his +eyes for a second to the velvet shadows beside him, where a wood-mouse, +blundering almost upon his outstretched leg, had fled with a tiny squeak +of terror. When he looked out again, there in the centre of the beach, +black and huge against the pallid radiance, towered a moose bull, with +his great overhanging muzzle uplifted as he peered about him in search +of the utterer of that call. + +The great bull had a noble pair of antlers, a head for any hunter to be +proud of, but Joe Peddler never raised his rifle. Instead of rejoicing +at this response to his deceitful lure, a frown of impatience crossed +his face. The strict New Brunswick game laws allowed but one bull in a +season to fall to the rifle of any one hunter. Joe Peddler was in search +of one particular bull. He had no use for the great beast towering so +arrogantly before him, and nothing was further from his thoughts than to +put a bullet into that wide-antlered head. + +[Illustration: Black and huge against the pallid radiance towered a +moose bull.] + +The bull was plainly puzzled at finding no cow upon the beach to greet +him, after all those calls. Presently he grew angry, perhaps thinking +that a rival had reached the scene ahead of him. He fell to pawing the +sand with one great, clacking hoof, grunting and snorting so loudly that +any rival within half a mile of the spot would have heard him and +hastened to accept the challenge. Then he strode up to the nearest bush +and began thrashing at it viciously with his antlers. + +The disappointed animal now had his back toward the thicket wherein +Peddler lay hidden. Yielding to his humour, the woodsman once more +lifted the birch-bark tube to his lips, with a sly grin, and gave +another call. + +He was hardly prepared for the effect. The bull wheeled like a flash, +and instantly, with not a half second's hesitation, came charging upon +the thicket at full run. + +The situation was an awkward one, and Peddler cursed himself for a +blundering idiot. He sprang noiselessly to his feet and raised his +rifle. But first he would try an experiment, in the hope of saving the +beast from his bullet. + +"You git out o' that!" he ordered very sharply and clearly. "_Git_, I +tell ye!" + +The bull stopped so abruptly that his hooves ploughed up the sand. +Decidedly there was something very strange about that thicket. First it +gave forth the call of his mate. Then it spoke to him with the voice of +a man. And there was something in that voice that chilled him. While one +might, perhaps, count ten, he stood there motionless, staring at the +inexplicable mass of foliage. The arrogant light in his eyes flickered +down into fear. And then, his heart crumbling with panic, he leapt aside +suddenly with a mighty spring and went crashing off through the woods as +if all the fiends were clawing at his tail. + +Peddler chuckled, stretched himself, and settled down to try his luck +again. For another couple of hours he kept it up patiently, calling at +intervals, and throwing his utmost art into the modulations of the +raucous tube. But never a reply could he charm forth from the moonlit +solitudes. At last he grew intolerably sleepy. + +"Guess old lop-horn must be off on some other beat to-night," he +muttered, getting to his feet with a mighty yawn. "It's me fer me +bunk." And with the rifle under one arm, the birch-bark tube under the +other, he strode off down the shining beach to the alder-fringed inlet +where his canoe was hidden. + +As he paddled swiftly through the moonlight down toward the lower end of +the lake, where he had his camp on a high, dry knoll beside the outlet, +Peddler mused upon the object of his quest. It was no ordinary moose, +however noble of antler, that had brought him out here to the remote and +all but unknown tangle of lakes and swamps which formed the source of +the north fork of the Ottanoonsis. This bull, according to the stories +of two Indian trappers, was of a size quite unprecedented in the annals +of the modern moose; and Peddler, who had seen its mighty hoof-prints in +the mud beside the outlet, was quite ready to credit the tale. They were +like the tracks of a prehistoric monster. But it was not for the stature +of him that Peddler was hunting the giant bull. According to the story +of the Indians, the beast's antlers were like those of no other +bull-moose ever seen. The right antler was colossal in its reach and +spread, a foot or more, at least, beyond the record, but quite normal in +its shape. The left, on the contrary, was not only dwarfed to less than +half the normal size, but was so fantastically deformed as to grow +downwards instead of upwards. Of a head such as this, Joe Peddler was +determined to possess himself before some invading sportsman from +England or the States should forestall him. + +Arriving at the outlet of the lake, he pulled up the canoe at a natural +grassy landing-place below his camp, and pushed his way some hundred +yards or so along the shore through the bushes to a spring which he had +discovered that morning. Your woodsman will go far out of his way to +drink at a cold spring, having a distaste for the rather vapid water of +the lakes and streams. He threw himself flat upon the stony brink and +reached down his thirsty lips. + +But just as he swallowed the first delicious gulp of coolness, there +came a sudden huge crashing in the brushwood behind him. In one breath +he was on his feet. In the next he had cleared the pool in a leap, and +was fleeing madly for the nearest tree, with a moose that looked as big +as an elephant at his heels. + +The nearest tree, a young birch, was not as big as he could have wished, +but he was not taking time just then to pick and choose. He whirled +himself round the trunk, sprang to the first branch, swung up, and +scrambled desperately to gain a safe height. He gained it, but literally +by no more than a hair's breadth. As the black monster reached the tree, +it checked itself abruptly, and in almost the same instant lifted its +right fore-hoof high above its head and struck like a flash at Peddler's +foot just disappearing over a branch. It missed the foot itself, but it +shaved the stout cowhide larrigan that covered the foot, slicing it as +if with a knife. Peddler drew himself farther up and then looked down +upon his assailant with interest. + +"I guess I've found ye all right, old lop-horn," he drawled, and spat +downward, not scornfully, but contemplatively, as if in recognition, +upon that strangely stunted and deformed left antler. "But gee! Them +Injuns never said nothin' about yer bein' so black an' so almighty spry. +I wisht, now, ye'd kindly let me go back to the canoe an' git me gun!" + +But any such quixotic courtesy seemed far from the giant's intention. As +soon as he realized that his foe was beyond the reach of striking hoof +or thrusting antler, he set himself, in the pride of his strength and +weight, to the task of pushing the tree over. Treating it as if it were +a mere sapling, he reared himself against it, straddling it with his +fore-legs, and thrust at it furiously in the effort to ride it down. As +the slim young trunk shook and swayed beneath the passion of the +onslaught, Peddler clung to his perch with both arms and devoutly wished +that he had had time to choose a sturdier refuge. + +For perhaps five minutes the giant pushed and battered furiously against +the tree, grunting like a locomotive and tearing up the earth in +furrows with his hinder hooves. At length, however, he seemed to +conclude that this particular tree was too strong for him. He backed off +a few yards and stood glaring up at Peddler among the branches, snorting +contemptuously and shaking his grotesquely misshapen antlers as if +daring his antagonist to come down. Peddler understood the challenge +just as clearly as if it had been expressed in plainest King's English. + +"Oh, yes," said he grimly, "I'll come down all right, bime-by. An' ye +ain't agoin' to like it one leetle bit when I do; now, mind, I'm tellin' +ye!" + +For perhaps a half-hour the giant bull continued to rave and grunt and +paw about the tree with a tireless vindictiveness which filled his +patient prisoner with admiration, and hardened him inexorably in his +resolve to possess himself of that unparalleled pair of antlers. At +last, however, the furious beast stopped short and stood motionless, +listening intently. Peddler wondered what he was listening to. But +presently his own ears also caught it--the faint and far-off call of a +cow-moose from the upper end of the lake. Forgetting his rage against +Peddler, the bull wheeled about with the agility of a cat and went +crashing off up the lake shore as fast as he could run. Stiff and +chilled--for the air of that crisp October night had a searching bite in +it--Peddler climbed down from his perch. First, being tenacious of +purpose, he hurried to the spring and finished his interrupted drink. +Then, returning to the canoe, he stood for a few moments in hesitation. +Should he follow up the trail at once? But it was already near morning, +and he was both dead-tired and famished. He believed that the bull, not +being in any alarm, would not journey far that night after meeting his +mate, but rather would seek some deep thicket for a few hours' sleep. He +picked up the rifle and strode off to his camp, resolved to fortify +himself well for a long trail on the morrow. + + +II + +Wise though Peddler was in the ways of the wild folk, he found himself +at fault in regard to this particular bull, whose habits seemed to be no +less unique than his stature and his antlers. Taking up the trail soon +after sunrise, he came in due time to the spot, near the head of the +lake, where the bull had joined the calling cow. From this point the +trail of the pair had struck straight back from the lake towards the +range of low hills which formed the watershed between the eastern and +south-westward flowing streams. About noon Peddler came to the place +where the cow, wearied out by so strenuous a pace, had lain down to +sleep in a thicket. The bull, however, driven by his vehement spirit, +had gone on without a pause. + +All day Peddler followed doggedly upon that unwavering trail. He crossed +the ridge, descended to the broken and desolate eastern levels, and +came, towards sunset, upon another wide and tranquil lake. Feeling sure +that his quarry, unaware of the pursuit, would linger somewhere about +this pleasant neighbourhood, Peddler found himself a mossy nest on the +cup-shaped top of a boulder and settled down for a couple of hours' +sleep. He little guessed that the bull, having doubled back on a +parallel with his own trail, had been following him stealthily for a +good half hour, not raging now, but consumed with curiosity. + +Just as the moon was rising over the low black skyline, jagged with +fir-tops, Peddler woke up. Creeping through the bushes, he betook +himself to a hiding-place which his quick eye had already marked down, +close to the beach, a roomy, flat ledge at the foot of a rock, with a +screen of young spruce before it. From behind another clump of spruce, +not fifty paces distant, the lop-horned bull, standing moveless as a +dead tree, watched him with an intense and inquiring interest. His fury +of the preceding night, and even the memory of it, seemed to have been +blotted from his mind. + +But when, a few minutes later, from that shadowy covert, where he could +just make out the crouching form of the man, the call of a cow breathed +forth upon the stillness, the great bull's eyes and nostrils opened wide +in amazement. What could a moose-cow be thinking about to remain so near +the dangerous neighbourhood of a man? But, no, his eyes assured him that +there was no cow in the man's hiding-place. Where, then, could she be? +He stared around anxiously. She was nowhere in sight. He sniffed the +windless night air. It bore no savour of her. He waved forward his +great, sensitive ears to listen. And again came the call, the voice, +undoubtedly, of the moose-cow. + +There could be no question about it this time. It came from the thicket. +Had there been any least note of fear in that call, the giant bull would +have rushed at once to the rescue of the unseen fair, concluding that +the man had her hidden. But now, the utterance was simply that of an +untroubled cow. Therefore, for the moment, the great bull was chiefly +puzzled. Keeping within the shadows, and moving as imperceptibly as if +he were himself but one of the blackest of them, he stole nearer and +nearer yet, till he could plainly see every detail within the man's +hiding-place. There was assuredly nothing there but rock and moss and +bush and the crouching figure of the man himself, staring forth upon the +moonlit beach and holding a curious roll of bark to his mouth. +Nevertheless, in that same moment there came again the hoarse cry of the +cow. + +It came indisputably from that crouching form of a man, from that roll +of bark at the man's mouth. + +This was a mystery, and the wiry black hair along the neck and shoulders +of the bull began to rise ominously. A slow, wondering rage awoke in his +heart. It was that element of wonder alone which for the moment +restrained him from rushing forward and trampling the mysterious cheat +beneath his hooves. A red spark kindled in his eyes. + +All undreaming of the dread watcher so close behind him, Peddler set his +lips to the lying tube of bark and gave his call again and yet again, +with all the persuasiveness of his backwoods art. He felt sure that his +efforts were convincing. They were, indeed, all of that. They were so +consummate a rendering of the cow-moose's voice that they perfectly +convinced a huge and hungry bear, which was at that moment creeping up +from the other side of the rock upon the unsuspecting hunter's +hiding-place. + +The bear knew that its only chance of capturing so swift and nimble a +quarry as the moose-cow lay in stealing upon her like a cat and taking +her by surprise in one instantaneous rush. He never doubted for a moment +that the cow was there behind the rock. When he was within a dozen feet +of those persuasive sounds, his crouched form suddenly rose up, +elongated itself like a dark and terrible jack-in-the-box, and launched +itself with a swish through the encircling branches. + +Before Peddler's wits had time fully to take in what was happening, his +trained instinct told him what to do. Half rising to his feet as he +snatched up his rifle, he swung about and fired from the hip at the +vague but monstrous shape which hung for an instant above him. The shot +went wide, for just as his finger pressed the trigger, a great black paw +smote the weapon from his grasp and hurled it off among the bushes. + +With a contortion that nearly dislocated his neck, Peddler hurled +himself frantically backwards and aside, and so just escaped the +pile-driver descent of the other paw. + +He escaped it for the instant; but in the effort he fell headlong, and +jammed himself in a crevice of the rock so awkwardly that he could not +at once extricate himself. He drew up his legs with an involuntary +shudder, and held his breath, expecting to feel the merciless claws rake +the flesh from his thighs. + +But nothing touched him; and the next moment there broke out an +astounding uproar behind him, a very pandemonium of roars and windy +gruntings, while the crashing of the bushes was as if the forest were +being subdued beneath a steam-roller. Consumed with amazement, he +wrenched himself from the crevice and glanced round. The sight that met +his eyes made him clamber hastily to the top of the rock, whence he +might look down from a more or less safe distance upon a duel of giants +such as he had never dared hope to witness. + +When the bear found that it was no cow-moose, but a man that he was +springing upon, he was so taken aback that, for a second or two, he +forbore to follow up his advantage. To those two seconds of hesitation +Joe Peddler owed his escape. + +Before the massive brute, now boiling with rage at having been so +deceived, had sufficiently made up his mind to fall upon that prostrate +figure in the crevice, something that seemed to him like a tornado of +hooves and antlers burst out of the bushes and fell upon him. The next +moment, with a long, red gash half-way down his flank, he was fighting +for his life. + +The gigantic moose had been just upon the verge of rushing in to silence +those incomprehensible and deceiving calls, when the towering form of +the bear burst upon his vision. Here at last was something to focus his +wrath. Already angry, but still dampened by bewilderment, his anger now +exploded into a very madness of rage. There was the ancient, inherited +feud between his tribe and all bears. As a youngster, he had more than +once escaped, as by a miracle, from the neck-breaking paw of a bear, had +more than once seen a young cow struck down and ripped to pieces. Now to +this deep-seated hate was added another incentive. His mind confused by +fury to protect his mate, he dimly felt that the mystery which had been +tormenting him was the fault of this particular bear. The man was +forgotten. A cow had been calling to him. She had disappeared. Here was +the bear. The bear had probably done away with the cow. The cow should +be terribly avenged. + +The bear--which was one of the biggest and fiercest of his kind in all +the northern counties--had fought moose, both bulls and cows, before. +But he had never before faced such an antagonist as this one, and that +first slashing blow from the bull's knife-edged fore-hoof had somewhat +flurried him. Sitting back poised, with his immense hindquarters +gathered under him, and his fore-paws uplifted, he parried the smashing +strokes of his assailant with the lightning dexterity of a trained +boxer. His strength of shoulder and forearm was so enormous that if he +could have got a stroke in flat, at right angles to the bone, he would +have shattered the bull's leg to splinters. But his parrying blows +struck glancingly, and did no more than rip the hair and hide. + +After a few minutes of whirlwind effort to batter down that impregnable +guard, the bull jumped back as nimbly, for all his bulk, as a young doe +startled from her drinking. His usual method of attack, except when +fighting a rival bull, was to depend upon his battering fore-hooves. But +now he changed his tactics. Lowering his head so that his vast right +antler stood out before him like a charge of bayonets, he launched +himself full upon his adversary. + +With all his weight and strength behind it, that charge was practically +irresistible, if fairly faced. But the bear was too wise to face it +fairly. He swung aside, clutched the lowered antler, and held fast, +striving to pull his enemy down. + +But the bull's strength and impetus were too great, and the bear was +himself thrown off his balance. Even then, however, he might probably +have recovered himself and once more established the battle upon even +terms. But he had not reckoned--he could not have been expected to +reckon--upon the unprecedented weapon of that little down-drooping left +antler. Not for nothing was the giant bull lop-horned. The dwarfed and +distorted antler hung down like a plough-share. And the bear attempted +no defence against it. Keen-spiked, it caught him in the belly and +ploughed upward. In a paroxysm he fell backwards. The bull, swinging his +hindquarters around without yielding his advantage for a second, lunged +forward with all his force, and the deadly little plough was driven home +to the bear's heart. + +Peddler, from his post on top of the rock, shouted and applauded in wild +excitement, and showered encomiums, no less profane than heartfelt, upon +the victorious bull. For a minute or two the bull paid no attention, +being engrossed in goring and trampling his victim in an effort to make +it look less like a bear than an ensanguined floor-rug. At last, as if +quite satisfied with his triumph, he lifted his gory head and eyed that +voluble figure on top of the rock. It looked harmless. + +"Gee, but ye kin fight!" said Peddler, glowing with admiration. "An' +ye've saved my scalp fer me this night, fer sartain. Guess I'll hev to +let ye keep them lop-sided horns o' yourn, after all!" + +The bull snorted at him scornfully and turned his head to take another +prod at the unresponsive remnants of his foe. Then, paying no further +heed to the man on the rock, and craving assuagement to the fiery smart +of his wounds, he strode down into the lake and swam straight out, in +the glitter of the moon-path, toward the black line of the farther +shore. + + + + +The Aigrette + + +The Girl, sitting before her dressing-table, looked at the fair +reflection in her great mirror and smiled happily. Those searching +lights at either side of the mirror could find no flaw in the tender +colouring of her face, in the luminous whiteness of neck and arm and +bosom. Her wide-set eyes, like the red bow of her mouth, were kind and +gay. The brightness of her high-coiffed hair was surmounted by a tuft of +straight egret plumes, as firm, pearl-white, and delicate as a filigree +of frost. + +The Girl had never looked so lovely. Never before had she worn anything +that so became her as that ethereal plume. She knew it; and the glances +of her maid, straying from her business with filmy garments and dainty +adornments, told her so. She threw a wisp of silken gossamer over her +arm and tripped eagerly down to the drawing-room. + +The Man came forward to meet her, his eyes paying without stint the +tribute she was craving of him. + +"There will be no one there to compare with you!" he said softly. "There +is no one anywhere to compare with you." + +"It _is_ becoming, isn't it?" she answered, glowing at his praise, and +nodding her bright head to indicate the ethereal white plume. + +"It is indeed," he asserted heartily. "But nothing could heighten your +beauty. You did not need it, and I'm rather afraid the bird did." He +kissed her finger-tips as he spoke, lest she should think he was being +critical. + +The Girl pouted a little, being very tenderhearted, and loth to be +reminded of unpleasant things. + +"I know what you mean," said she quickly, withdrawing her hand in +displeasure. "But the poor bird is dead, anyway; and if I didn't buy the +thing, some other woman would. And it's horrid of you to speak of it +now!" + +The Man laughed. + +"It can't make you more beautiful, but if it makes you happier, that's +quite enough for me," said he. "I'm afraid that a very little pleasure +for you is of more consequence in my eyes than a thousand million +birds." + +And upon this assurance the Girl forgave him. + + * * * * * + +The wide lagoon lay windless, shining like milky-blue glass under the +blaze of the southern sky. It was shallow, its surface broken here and +there with patches of tall gold-green reeds. Its shores seemed half +afloat, fringed as they were with gnarled, squat bushes growing directly +out of the water. This irregular bushy growth, with the green-shadowed +water beneath its branches, stretched back for several hundred yards +from the open lagoon to a dense wall of jungle, a banked mass of +violently green leafage starred with cream-white and crimson bloom. + +Not cream-white, but of a coldly pure silver-white, like new snow, some +two or three score long-necked, long-legged birds flapped angularly +between the milky blue of the water and the intense, vibrant blue of the +sky, or stood half-leg deep in the shallows, motionless, watching for +their prey. They looked like bits of a Japanese screen brought to life +and sown broadcast in this sun-steeped southern wilderness. High +overhead, a black speck against the azure, a hawk wheeled slowly in vast +spirals, staring down desirously upon the peaceful lagoon. That peace he +durst not invade, for he knew and feared the lightning strokes of the +long dagger-like beaks of the white egrets. + +In the top of one of the gnarled bushes at the edge of the open, right +over the water, was built a spacious but rickety-looking nest of dead +sticks. It was the most un-nestlike of nests, a mere crazy platform, +with no apparent qualifications as a home except the most perfect +ventilation. One might reasonably suppose that the first requirement in +the nest of a bird should be that it would hold eggs securely. But this +unsightly collection of sticks looked as if that was the last thing it +could be depended on to do. It was so loose and open that the eggs ought +to fall through into the water. It was so flat that any eggs which +dodged falling through should surely, according to all known laws of +Nature, be blown off by the first vigorous gust. Nevertheless, it was +clear that the rude structure had held eggs, and proved not unworthy of +its trust, for it was now occupied by four young egrets. + +They were grotesque and solemn babies, these nestlings, sitting up quite +motionless on their leg-joints and half-feathered rumps, with their long +legs thrust straight out before them over the sticks, their long beaks +resting contemplatively on their nearly naked breasts, their round, +bright, unwinking eyes staring out blankly upon their little world of +gold and blue. Scattered here and there over the sweep of fringing +bushes were a dozen or so more of these rickety platforms of sticks, +each with its solemn group of stilt-legged staring young, motionless as +statues interested in nothing upon earth save the quantity of fish or +frogs which their untiring parents could supply to their unassuageable +appetites. + +Above this outermost nest, with the four fledglings in it, hung for a +moment, hovering on wide wings, the great white mother egret, with a +shining orange fish in her beak. She dropped her long legs, as if +feeling for a foothold, and alighted on the edge of the crazy platform +so softly that not a stick protested. At her coming four long beaks were +lifted into the air, gaping hungrily and squawking with eagerness. All +four seemed equally ravenous. But the mother-bird knew well enough which +she had fed last, and which was most in need. She jammed the prize, with +what seemed scant ceremony, into the beak whose turn it was to get it. +The fish was thicker than the youngster's long thin neck, but it was +promptly swallowed head first. It went down slowly, with a succession of +spasms which looked agonizing, but were, in fact, ecstatic. + +Before flying off again to resume her quest of fish, the mother egret +remained for a few moments on the edge of the nest, to rest and preen +herself. Her snow-pure plumage shone in the sunlight like spun silver. +Her neck feathers were prolonged in fine drooping lines far down over +her breast. From the centre of her back, between the shoulders, grew a +bunch of long, exquisitely delicate plumes, as white and apparently as +fragile as the frost-flowers on a window. These were her festal +adornment, worn, by herself and her mate alike, only in the nesting +season. + +Having preened herself well, and shaken her long, snaky neck as if to +take the kinks out of it, she spread her shining wings and lifted +herself into the air. She rose, however, but a few inches, and then, +flapping and squawking wildly, she was dragged down again by some unseen +force. Her frantic struggles knocked off a corner of the nest, and swept +off one of the awkward nestlings, which fell kicking and sprawling +through the leafage and disappeared with a splash. A moment more and the +mother, for all her wild fight against the unseen fate, was drawn down +after him into the shadowed water. Then a little flat-bottomed boat, or +ducking-punt, with a man crouching in the bottom of it, came worming its +way through the narrow lane of water between the stems of the bushes. +The man seized her by the dangerous beak, jerked her into the punt, put +his knee upon her neck, detached the noose of a copper-wire snare from +her leg, drew a keen hunting-knife, and deftly sliced the snowy plumes +from the flesh of her back. + +Then he hurled her out into the open water, that she might not be in his +way while he rearranged the snare upon the edge of the nest in order to +catch her mate. + +Half stunned, and altogether bewildered by her agony, the mother egret +flapped blindly upon the top of the water, her snowy plumage crimsoned +with her life-blood. After a few moments she succeeded in getting into +the air. Flying heavily, and lurching as she went, she flew across the +lagoon, blundered in among the bushes, and fell with her legs in the +water, her twitching wings entangled in the branches. There, after a few +vain struggles, she lay still, dying slowly--very slowly--her beak half +open, but her eyes wide and undaunted. + +[Illustration: The mother egret flapped blindly upon the top of the +water.] + +Not long afterwards the male egret, who had been fishing far down the +lagoon, and knew nothing of what had happened, came back to the nest +with food. He, too, was caught in the fatal snare, dragged down, scalped +of his nuptial plumes as the red savage of old scalped his enemies, and +thrown away to die at his leisure. The law of that country forbade the +shooting of the egrets in the nesting season, when alone they wore the +plumes which women crave. The plume-hunter, therefore, felt that he was +evading the law successfully if he hacked the prize from the living bird +and released it while still alive and able to fly. If the bird died +agonizingly afterwards, who was going to swear that he was the slayer? + +Throughout the morning the like swift tragedy was enacted at one nest +after the other. The deadly punt slid murderously, silently, up and +down the hidden water-lanes among the bushes, and the man with the knife +did his work noiselessly, save for the threshing and splashing of his +victims. + +In the course of an hour, however, for all the marauder's stealth, the +whole herony was in a state of desperate fear. Half a dozen birds had +been snared, and the others, flying high overhead and staring down with +keen, terrified eyes, had detected the slaughterer in his hiding under +the branches. They had seen him, too, resetting his snares upon the +edges of the nests. And in spite of the fact that, after doing so, he +withdrew to some distance among the bushes--as far as the cords attached +to the snares would permit--they dreaded to approach their nests again. +But there were their younglings, solemn and hungry, quite +uncomprehending of the doom which hung over them, hoarsely and +trustingly petitioning to be fed. The parent birds could not long resist +those appeals. Love and tenderness triumphed over fear, even over the +clear view of mortal peril. One after another the great white birds came +back, trembling but devoted, to their nests. One after another, sooner +or later, got a foot into that implacable wire noose, was dragged down +beneath the bushes, and thrown out weltering in its blood. There was no +escaping a trap thus baited with the appeals of the young. And before +the lagoon had taken the first of the sunset colour, there was not one +adult egret in the whole herony which had not paid the bloody price of +its devotion. + +At last, when the lagoon lay like a sheet of burnished copper, the man +with the punt came out boldly from among the bushes and paddled off +toward the outlet with his bleeding trophies. As he vanished, three or +four birds, stronger and more tenacious of life than their fellows, came +flapping back to their nests, their backs and wings and thighs caked +with blood. Swaying as they perched upon the stick platforms, they +managed to feed the nestlings once more. Then, dogged in their devotion, +they flew off to continue their tasks. They never returned again, but +fell in the shallows where they stood trying to fish: and if the Fates +of the wilderness elected to be merciful, they were drowned quickly. + +All night, through the star-strewn summer dark, the orphaned nestlings +kept up their harshly plaintive cries of hunger and loneliness. A pair +of owls, hearing these cries, and guessing that all could not be right +with the egret colony, came winnowing up noiselessly and took toll of +the defenceless nests. After daybreak, the wheeling hawk dropped low to +investigate, then struck wherever he found the nestlings fattest and +most tempting. Toward noon, under the pitiless downpour of the unclouded +sun, the little ones wilted like cut grass, thirst and hunger stilling +their pitiful complaints. Long before night there was not a nestling +left alive on the whole lagoon. + + * * * * * + +The Girl, with snowy aigrette in her bright hair, her gloved fingers +resting on the Man's arm, stood upon the kerb outside the theatre, +waiting for a taxi. A light dogcart came by. The horse, sleek and +spirited and spoilt, was in wayward humour, and took it into its head to +give its driver trouble. The driver tried to soothe it, but it would not +be soothed. It began backing capriciously. The driver cut it smartly +with his light whip. + +"Oh," cried the Girl, "see how he's beating that poor horse! What a +brute!" + +"It's hurting the horse about as much," said the Man, "as if you struck +it with your fan! Moreover, the horse is behaving very badly, and must +be made to mind. It's endangering the whole traffic." + +The Girl flushed, bit her lip, and withdrew her hand from the Man's arm. +Just then the summoned taxi drew up at the kerb. The Girl stepped in. + +"What brutes men are!" she said. "Perhaps they can't help being cruel! +They have no intuition, so how can they understand?" + +The Man glanced at the aigrette, smiled discreetly, and said nothing. + + + + +The Cabin in the Flood + + +Stepping into the cabin, Long Jackson said: "If that there blame jam +don't break inside o' twenty-four hour, the hull valley's goin' to be +under water, an' I'll hev to be gittin' ye out o' this in the canoe. +I've just been uncoverin' her an' rozenin' her up, an' she's as good as +noo. That's a fine piece o' winter bark ye put on to her, Tom." + +From his bunk in the dark corner beyond the stove, Brannigan lifted his +shaggy face and peered wistfully out into the sunshine with sunken but +shining eyes. + +"I was _afeard_ there'd be a powerful freshet after this long spell o' +thaw atop of all that rain, Long, an' the snow layin' so deep in the +woods this winter. I wisht ye'd lug me over an' lay me by the door in +the sun fer a bit, Long, ef 'tain't too much trouble. That 'ere sun'll +put new life into me bones, in case the jam _don't_ break, an' we hev +to git a move on." + +After this long speech, Brannigan's head dropped wearily back on the +roll of blanket that served him as pillow. He had been desperately ill +with pneumonia, so ill that it had been impossible for Long Jackson to +go in to the Settlements for a doctor; and now, under Jackson's +assiduous nursing, he was just beginning the slow climb back to life. + +"Think 'twon't be too cold fer ye by the door?" queried Jackson +anxiously. + +"No, no!" protested Brannigan. "It's the sun I'm wantin', and the smell +o' spring stirrin' in the buds. That's the med'cine fer me now, Long." + +Long Jackson grumbled doubtfully, holding to the strange back-country +superstition that fresh air is dangerous for sick folk. But he yielded, +as he usually did where Brannigan was concerned. He spread blankets on +the floor by the door--a little to one side to avoid the draught--then +carried his partner's gaunt form over to them, and rolled him up like a +baby, with his head well propped on a pile of skins. Then he seated +himself on the chopping-log just outside the door, and proceeded to fill +his pipe with that moist, black plug tobacco, good alike for smoking and +for chewing, which is chiefly favoured by the backwoodsman. Brannigan's +face, drinking in the sunshine as a parched lawn drinks rain, freshened +and picked up a tinge of colour. His eyes, long weary of the four grey +walls of the cabin, roved eagerly the woods that fringed the tiny +clearing. + +"Anyways," said Long Jackson between puffs, as he sucked the damp +tobacco alight, "this here knoll of ourn's the highest bit o' country +fer ten miles round, and the cabin's on the highest p'int of it. 'Tain't +raly likely the water'll come clean over it, ef the jam _don't_ give +inside o' twenty-four hour. But it makes one feel kind o' safe havin' +the canoe ready." + +"Yes, it's the highest bit o' country fer miles round," murmured +Brannigan dreamily, soaking in the sun. "An' I'm thinkin' we ain't the +only ones as knows it, Long. Will ye look at them rabbits down yander? +Did ever ye see so many o' them together afore?" + +Jackson looked, and involuntarily laid his pipe down on the log beside +him to look again. The woods far down the slope--it was a slope so +gentle as to be hardly perceptible--were swarming with rabbits, hopping +and darting this way and that over the snow. For the snow still lingered +under the trees, though only a few patches of it, yellowing and +shrinking under the ardent sun, remained in the open of the clearing. + +After staring for some moments in silence, Jackson took up his pipe +again. + +"The water must be risin' mighty quick," said he. "Them rabbits are +gittin' sociable all of a sudden. They're comin' to pay ye a call, Tom, +this bein' yer fust day up." + +"We'll be havin' other callers besides rabbits, I'm thinkin'," said +Brannigan, the dreaminess in his voice and eyes giving way to a pleased +excitement. This was better than his bunk in the dark corner of the +cabin. "What's that, now, way down behind them yaller birch trunks?" he +added eagerly. "I guess it's a bear, Long." + +"It's two bear," corrected Jackson. "So long as it's jest rabbits, all +right, but we ain't entertainin' bears this mornin'. Grub's too scarce, +an' bears is hungry this time o' year. Gee! There's two more down by the +spring. Guess I'd better git the gun." + +"Wait a bit, Long," expostulated Brannigan. "They're so afeard o' the +water, they'll be harmless as the rabbits. No good shootin' 'em now, +when their pelts ain't worth the skinnin'. Let 'em be, an' see what +they'll do. They hain't got no place else to go to, to git out o' the +water." + +"Let 'em climb a tree!" grumbled Jackson. But he sat down again on his +log. "Ye're right, anyhow, Tom," he continued, after a moment's +consideration. "What's the good o' spilin' good skins by shootin' 'em +now? An' if they're not too skeered to death to know they're hungry, +they kin eat the rabbits. An', anyhow, the ca'tridges is pretty nigh +gone. Come along, Mr. Bear, an' bring yer wife an' all yer relations!" + +As if in response to this invitation, the bears all moved a little +nearer, whining uneasily and glancing back over their shoulders, and +close behind them could now be seen gleams of the swiftly up-creeping +flood, where the sunlight struck down upon it through the leafless +hardwood trees. But around to the left and the rear of the cabin the +trees were dense evergreens, spruce and fir, beneath whose shade the +flood came on unseen. + +As the worried bears approached, the belt of rabbits swarmed out along +the edges of the clearing, the hinder ranks pushing forward the +reluctant front ones. These, fearing the open and the human form sitting +before the cabin, tried to regain shelter by leaping back over the heads +of those who thrust them on. But far more than that unmoving human +figure they feared the whimpering bears and the silent, pursuing flood. +So in a very few minutes the rabbits were all in the open, hopping about +anxiously and waving their long ears, a few of the bolder ones even +coming up to within forty or fifty feet of the cabin to stare curiously +at Long Jackson on his log. + +Presently from behind the cabin, stepping daintily, with heads held high +and wide nostrils sniffing the air apprehensively, came two young does, +and stopped short, glancing back and forth from Jackson to the bears, +from the bears to Jackson. After a few seconds' hesitation, they seemed +to make up their minds that they liked Jackson better than the bears, +for they came a few steps nearer and looked timidly in at Brannigan. + +"This ain't North Fork Valley, Long. It's Barnum's Menagerie, that's +what it's gittin' to be!" remarked Brannigan, speaking softly, lest he +should alarm the does. + +"Ay, an' still they come!" said Jackson, pointing with his pipe down the +slope to the right. Brannigan lifted his head and craned his neck to see +who "they" were. + +They were a huge bull-moose, followed by three cows and a couple of +yearlings, who crowded close upon their leader's heels as they caught +sight of the bears. The great bull, though without antlers at this +season, haughtily ignored the bears, who, as he well knew, would have +small inclination to venture within reach of his battering hoofs. The +little herd had been swimming. With dripping flanks, they stalked up +through the trees and out into the clearing, the swarm of rabbits +parting before them like a wave. At sight of Jackson on his log, the +bull stopped and stood staring morosely. He was not afraid of bears, but +men were another matter. After a heavy pondering of the situation, he +led the way across the corner of the clearing, then down into the flood +again and off, heading for the uplands at the foot of the valley, some +five or six miles away. + +"He don't seem to like the looks o' ye, Long," murmured Brannigan. + +"No more'n I do his'n," answered Jackson. "But I guess he'd 'a' been +welcome to stop, seein' as we ain't standin' on ceremony, an' our cards +is out to everybody. Come one, come all! But, no, I bar Mr. and Mrs. +Skunk. Ye're a soft-hearted old eejut, Tom, an' never like to hurt +nobody's feelin's, but I do hope now ye didn't go an' send cards to Mr. +and Mrs. Skunk." + +Brannigan chuckled. He was feeling better and more like himself already. + +"I don't believe they'll be comin'," he answered, evading the point of +the invitation. "Like as not, they're cut off in their holes an' +drownded, 'less they've took to the trees in time. They ain't no great +travellers, ye know, Long." + +"I ain't puttin' on no mournin' fer 'em," grunted Jackson. "An' there's +another varmint ye hadn't no call to invite, Tom," he added, as the +rabbits again scattered in consternation, and a big lynx emerged from a +spruce thicket on which the flood was just beginning to encroach. The +lynx, too frightened at the rising water to give even one look at the +rabbits, glared about her with round, pale, savage eyes. As she caught +sight of Jackson, her fur fluffed up and she scrambled into the nearest +tree, where she crouched behind a branch. + +Brannigan spared but a glance for the terrified lynx, his interest being +largely absorbed in the two does, whose trustfulness had won his heart. +Just inside the cabin door, and within reach of his arm, was a shelf, +whereon stood a tin plate containing some cold buckwheat pancakes, or +flap-jacks, left over from breakfast. A couple of these he tossed to the +does. Gentle as was the action, the nervous beasts bounded backwards, +snorting with apprehension. In a few moments, however, as if coming to +realize that the movement of Brannigan's arm had not been a hostile one, +they came forward again hesitatingly, and at length began to sniff at +the pancakes. For some moments the sniffing was distinctly supercilious. +Then one of them ventured to nibble. Half a minute more, and both +flap-jacks had been greedily gobbled. Their immense, mild eyes plainly +asking for more of the novel provender, the pair stepped a little +closer. Brannigan reached for another cake, to divide between them. + +Long Jackson got up from his log, tapped the ashes from his pipe, and +came into the cabin. + +"I'll be leavin' ye to entertain the ladies, Tom," said he, "while I git +dinner." + + +II + +A cloud passing over the sun, the air grew sharply cold on the instant. +Long Jackson bundled Brannigan away from the door, and shut it +inexorably. But as Brannigan refused to be put back into his bunk, +Jackson arranged him an awkward sort of couch of benches and boxes by +the table, where he made his first "sitting-up" meal. After dinner, the +sun having come out again, he insisted upon the door being once more +thrown open, that he might drink in the medicine of the spring air and +have another look at his menagerie. + +"Holy Je-hoshaphat!" exclaimed Jackson, as the door swung back. "This +ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's a Noah's Ark, that's what +it be!" + +The two does, trembling with fright, were huddled against the wall of +the cabin, close beside the door, staring at an immense and gaunt-framed +bear, which was sitting up on its haunches on Jackson's chopping-block. +More than half the clearing was under water. Five more bears sat near +the chopping-block, eyeing the water fearfully and whimpering like +puppies. Quite near them, and letting his shrewd eyes survey the whole +scene with an air of lofty indifference, sat a red fox, his fur +bedraggled as if from a long and hard swim. In two compact masses, on +either side of the bears and the fox, and as far away from them as they +could get, huddled the rabbits, their eyes fairly popping from their +heads. Further away, standing hock-deep in the water, were half a dozen +more red deer, afraid to come any closer to the bears. In the branches +of the one tree--a spreading rock-maple--which had been left standing +near the cabin, crouched a lynx and a wild-cat, as far apart as +possible, and eyeing each other jealously. + +One of the bears, restless in his anxiety, shifted his position and came +a little nearer to the cabin. The two does, snorting at his approach, +backed abruptly into the doorway, jamming Jackson against the doorpost. + +"Oh, don't mind me, ladies!" said Jackson, with elaborate sarcasm. "Come +right along in an' set down!" + +Whereupon the frightened animals, flying in the face of that tradition +of the wild creatures which teaches them to dread anything like a +_cul-de-sac_, took him at his word. Stamping their delicate hoofs in a +sort of timorous defiance to the bears, and ignoring both Jackson and +Brannigan completely, they backed into the rear of the cabin, stared +about the place curiously, and at length fell to nibbling the hay which +formed the bedding of the bunks. + +"Did ever ye see the likes o' that for nerve?" demanded Jackson. + +[Illustration: "This ain't no menagerie we've got here, Tom. It's a +Noah's Ark, that's what it be!"] + +"They've got sense, them two," said Brannigan. "They know who'll stand +up fer 'em if them bears begin to git ugly." + +"But we don't want the whole kit an' calabash pilin' in on us," said +Jackson with decision. "An' we don't want to shet the door and not be +able to see what's goin' on, neether. Guess I'd better fix up a kind o' +barricade, so's I kin hold the pass in case of them there fee-rocious +rabbits undertakin' to rush us." + +With a bench and some boxes, he built a waist-high barrier across the +doorway, and then he arranged for Brannigan a couch on the table, so +that the invalid could look out comfortably over the barrier. + +"Reserved seat in Noah's Ark for ye, Tom," said he. + +"Hadn't ye better be fetchin' the canoe round to the front, where ye kin +keep an eye onto it?" suggested Brannigan. + +"By Jing, yes!" agreed Jackson. "If one of them slick old bears 'd take +a notion to h'ist it into the water an' make off in it, I guess we'd be +in the porridge." + +He hitched his long legs over the barrier and stalked out coolly among +the beasts. + +The wild-cat and the lynx in the branches overhead laid back their ears +and showed their teeth in vicious snarls; and the rabbits huddled so +close together that the two packs of them heaved convulsively as each +strove to get behind or underneath his neighbours. The bears sullenly +drew away to the water's edge, and the huge fellow perched on the +chopping-block jumped down nimbly from his perch and joined the others +with a protesting _woof_. The fox stood his ground and kept up his air +of indifference, his native shrewdness telling him that the man was +paying no heed to him whatever. The deer also did not seem greatly +disturbed by Jackson's appearance, merely waving their big ears and +staring interrogatively. Jackson picked up the canoe and turned it +bottom side up across the doorway. Then he stepped indoors again. + +About the middle of the afternoon it became evident that the water had +stopped rising. It had apparently found an overflow somehow, and there +was no longer any risk of the cabin being swept away. Tired with the +excitement, Brannigan fell asleep. And Jackson, with the backwoodsman's +infinite capacity for doing nothing, when there is nothing to do, sat +beside his barricade for hour after hour and smoked. And for hour after +hour nothing happened. When night fell, he shut the door and secured it +with special care. + +Throughout the night it rained heavily, under a lashing wind which drove +the rain in sheets against the rear of the cabin; but soon after dawn +the sun came out again and shone with eager warmth. Brannigan awoke so +much better that he was able to sit up and help himself to the doorway +instead of being carried. The two does, thoroughly at home in the cabin, +swallowed the cold pancakes, and kept close to Jackson's elbow, begging +for more. + +When the door was opened, it was seen that the animals had all been +driven round to the front of the cabin for shelter. The space under the +upturned canoe was packed with rabbits. But the spirit of the bigger +animals, with the exception of the deer, was now changed. + +Since the rise of the flood had come to a halt--for the water was at the +same mark as on the afternoon of the previous day--the predatory animals +had begun to forget their fear of it and to remember that they were +hungry. The truce of terror was wearing very thin. The fox, indeed, as +Jackson's alert eyes presently perceived, had already broken it. At the +very edge of the water, as far away as possible from the cabin and the +bears, he was sitting up demurely on his haunches and licking his chaps. +But a tell-tale heap of bones and blood-stained fur gave him away. In +the darkness he had stolen up to the rabbits, nipped one noiselessly by +the neck, and carried it off without any of its fellows being any the +wiser. He could afford to wait with equanimity for the flood to go down. + +The lynx had come down out of her tree and was crouching at the foot of +it, eyeing first the bears and then the rabbits. She turned her +tameless, moon-pale eyes upon Jackson in the doorway, and bared her +teeth in a soundless snarl. Jackson, wondering what she was up to, kept +perfectly still. The next moment she darted forward, belly to earth, and +pounced upon the nearest rabbit. The victim screamed amazingly loud, and +the packed mass of its companions seemed to boil as they trampled each +other underfoot. Growling harshly, the lynx sprang back to the tree with +her prey, ran up the trunk with it, and crouched in a crotch to make her +meal, keeping a malignant and jealous eye upon the wild-cat on her +neighbouring branch. + +As if fired by this example, one of the bears made a rush upon the +luckless rabbits. He struck down two with a deft stroke of his paw, +dashed them to one side to remove them from the too close proximity of +Jackson, and lay down comfortably to devour them. + +At this second attack, the unfortunate rabbits seemed to wake up to the +necessity of doing something radical. Two or three of those nearest the +cabin made a sudden dart for the door. They jumped upon the upturned +canoe, stared fearfully for an instant at Jackson, then leapt past him +over the barrier and took refuge in the farthest corner of the cabin, +under the bunk. Jackson, according to his prearranged plan, had made an +effort to stop them, but it was a half-hearted effort, and he shook his +head at Brannigan with a deprecating grin. + +"_'Tain't_ exackly healthy for the blame little scuts, out there with +the bear an' the wild-cats," said he apologetically. Jackson was quite +ready to shoot rabbits, of course, when they were needed for stew; but +his soft, inconsistent heart had been moved at seeing the helpless +things mangled by the lynx and the bear. Perfect consistency, after all, +would be an unpleasant thing to live with in this excellent but +paradoxical world. + +The words were hardly out of Jackson's mouth when the rest of the bears +came stalking up, great, black, menacing forms, to levy toll upon the +rabbits. Instantly the frantic little animals began pouring in a +tumultuous stream over the canoe and the barrier and into the cabin. +Seeing their dinners thus unexpectedly disappearing, the bears made a +rush forward. + +Jackson, fearing lest they should charge straight into the cabin, sprang +for his gun, and was back in the doorway again in a flash, carelessly +thrusting aside with his feet the incoming flood of furry, hopping +figures, but making no effort to keep it out. + +The bears, reaching the packed and struggling rear rank of the fugitives +before it could dissolve and gain the refuge, captured each a victim, +and drew back again hastily with their prizes, still apprehensive of the +silent grey figure of Jackson in the doorway. And in two minutes more +all the rabbits were inside the cabin, covering the floor and struggling +with each other to keep from being pushed too close to the hot stove. +The two does, resenting the invasion, snorted angrily and struck at them +with their sharp, agile hoofs, killing several before the rest learned +to keep out of the way. One enterprising little animal sprang into the +lower bunk, and was straightway followed by the nearest of his fellows, +till the bunk was filled to overflowing. + +"How'll ye like it, sleepin' along o' that bunch o' bed-fellers, Tom?" +inquired Jackson derisively. + +"Ye'll sleep with 'em yourself, Long," retorted Brannigan from his place +on the table. "_I_ didn't let 'em in. They're _your_ visitors. Me bein' +an invalid, I'm goin' to take the top bunk!" + +Long Jackson scratched his head. + +"What's botherin' me," said he, grown suddenly serious, "is them bears. +If _they_ take it into their heads to come in an' board along of us, I'm +goin' to hev a job to stop 'em. I've only four ca'tridge left, an' +ther's six bear. They've et ther rabbits, an' what's one small rabbit to +a _rale_ hungry bear? Here's the biggest an' hungriest comin' now! +_Scat!_" he yelled fiercely. "Scat! You----!" And he added a string of +backwoods objurgation that this modest page would never consent to +record. + +Apparently abashed at this reception, the bear backed away hastily and +glanced around at the landscape as if he had had no least thought of +intruding. + +Brannigan laughed as he had not laughed for weeks. + +"That langwidge o' yourn's better'n any gun, Long!" said he. + +"Guess it's saved us one ca'tridge, that time!" he acknowledged +modestly. "But I'm thinkin' it won't keep 'em off when they get a mite +hungrier. Ye kin curse like an Androscoggin lumber jack, but y'ain't +goin' to frizzle a single hair on a bear's hide. Now, here they come +agin! I'd better shoot one, an' mebbe that'll discourage 'em. Anyhow, +they kin eat the one I shoot, and that'll keep 'em from hankerin' so +after rabbits." + +He raised his gun, but Brannigan stopped him sharply. + +"Jest _shet the door_, ye old eejut!" he cried. "Ye know as well as I do +that ef ye git a bear rale mad, an' he thinks he's cornered, there's +goin' to be trouble. Jest shet the door, that's all!" + +"_To_ be sure! Why didn't I think o' that afore?" agreed Jackson, +kicking the boxes aside and slamming the heavy door without ceremony in +the face of the nearest bear, who had already lifted his fore-paws upon +the canoe and was peering in wistfully at the rabbits. + +With his feet in a foam of rabbits--the creatures seeming to have lost +all fear of him--Jackson sat down on a box and lit his pipe, while +Brannigan, leaning over from his couch on the table, tried to feed the +rabbits with biscuits. The rabbits would have none of it, but the two +does, greedy and jealous, came mincing forward at once to appropriate +the attention and the tit-bits. + +Presently the air grew unbearably hot and close, with the reek of the +crowding animals and the heat of the stove. After the fashion of the +backwoodsman, the men endured it till they were gasping. Then Jackson +went to the little window--which was not made to open--and prised out +the sash with the edge of his axe-blade. He filled his lungs with a deep +breath, drew back from the window, then sprang forward again and thrust +his head out for a better look. + +"_It's broke!_" he shouted. "The water's goin' down hand over fist!" + +"It'll save a lot o' trouble," said Brannigan, with a sigh of relief. + +By noon the water had disappeared, and the bears, the wild-cat, and the +fox had disappeared with it. After waiting another hour, that the hungry +beasts might be well out of the way, Jackson opened the door and began +to turn the rabbits out. At first they refused obstinately to go, so +that he had to seize them by the ears and throw them out. But presently +some sign seemed to go round among them to the effect that their enemies +were out of the way. Then they all began to make for the door, but quite +at their leisure, and soon were hopping off among the trees in every +direction. After them at last, went the two does, without so much as +once looking back. + +"Durned if the place don't look kind o' lonesome without 'em!" murmured +Brannigan. + +"Umph!" grunted Jackson. "It's easy seein' 'tain't you that's got to do +the cleanin' up after 'em. If ever ye go to hev another party like that, +Tom, I'm goin' to quit." + +The spring wind, mild and spicy from the spruce forests, breathed +through the cabin from the open door to the open window, and a chickadee +ran over his fine-drawn, bead-like refrain from the branches where the +lynx and wild-cat had been crouching. + + + + +The Brothers of the Yoke + + +Side by side, in the position in which they were accustomed to labour at +the yoke--Star on the off side, Buck on the nigh--they stood waiting in +the twilight beside the pasture bars. From the alder swamp behind the +pasture, coolly fragrant under the first of the dew-fall, came the +ethereal fluting of a hermit thrush, most tender and most poignant of +all bird songs. In the vault of the pale sky--pale violet washes of thin +colour over unfathomable deeps of palest green--a wide-swooping +night-hawk sounded at intervals its long, twanging note, like a stricken +harpstring. The dark spruce woods beyond the barn began to give off +their aromatic balsam-scent upon the evening air. A frog croaked from +somewhere under the alders where the hermit was at his fluting. One of +the oxen at last began to low softly and anxiously. It was long past +watering-time. Immediately his mate repeated the complaint, but on a +harsher, more insistent key. The watering trough, full to the brim, was +there in full view before them, just at the other side of the cabin. It +was an unheard-of thing that their master should not come at sundown to +lower the bars and let them drink their fill. + +They were a splendid pair, these two steers, and splendidly matched. +Both dark red, deep and massive in the shoulder, with short, straight +horns, and each with a clean white star in the centre of his broad +forehead, they were so exactly alike in all external particulars, that +the uninitiated eye would have been puzzled to distinguish them. Both +stood also with the patient, bowed necks of those who have toiled long +under the burden of the yoke. But to one at all acquainted with animals, +at all versed in the psychology of the animal mind, the difference +between the two was obvious. The temperaments that looked out from their +big, dark eyes were different. The very patience of their bowed heads +was different in expression. The patience of Star, the off ox, was an +accepting, contented patience. Curses, blows, the jabs of the ox-goad, +he took mildly, as a matter of course, and, being his master's +favourite, he got just as few of them as the exigencies of backwoods +ploughing and hauling would permit. But with Buck it was far otherwise. +In his eyes flickered always the spark of a spirit unsubdued. He had a +side glance, surly yet swift, that put the observant on their guard. He +never accepted the goad without a snort of resentment, a threatening +shake of his short, sharp horns. And he had command of a lightning kick +which had taught discretion to more than one worrying cur. Yet he was +valued, even while distrusted, by his owner, because he was intelligent, +well-trained, and a glutton for work, both quicker than his docile +yoke-fellow and more untiring. + +Between the two great red steers there was that close attachment which +has been so often observed between animals long accustomed to working in +the same harness. They become a habit to each other, and seem, +therefore, essential to each other's peace of mind. But on the part of +Buck it was something more than this. Ill-tempered and instinctively +hostile toward every one else, man or beast, he showed signs of an +active devotion to his tranquil yoke-fellow, and would sometimes spend +hours licking Star's neck while the latter went on chewing the cud in +complacent acceptance of the attention. + +The twilight gathered deeper about the lonely backwoods clearing. The +night-hawk, a soaring and swooping speck in the pallid spaces of the +sky, became invisible, though his strange note still twanged sonorously +from time to time. The hermit hushed his fluting in the alder thicket. +An owl hooted solemnly from somewhere back in the spruce woods. But +still the owner of the oxen did not come to lower the bars and give +admittance to the brimming trough. He was lying dead beside the brawling +trout-brook, a mile or so down the tote-road, his neck broken by a +flying branch from a tree which he had felled too carelessly. His dog +was standing over the sprawled body, whining and pawing at it in +distracted solicitude. + +To the two thirsty oxen the cool smell of the waiting trough was cruelly +tantalizing. To one of them it speedily became irresistible. Buck was +not, by instinct, any great respecter of bounds or barriers. He began +hooking impatiently at the bars, while Star gazed at him in placid +wonder. The bars were solid and well set, and Buck seemed to realize +almost at once that there was little to be done in that quarter. Feeling +for a weak spot, he worked his way along beyond them to the first panel +of the fence. It was the ordinary rough "snake" of the backwoods +clearing, a zigzag structure of rough poles, supported at the angles by +crossed stakes. Never very substantial, it had been broken and somewhat +carelessly mended at this particular point. The top rail lifted easily +under the thrust of Buck's aimlessly tossing horn. It fell down again at +once into its place in the crotch of the crossed stakes, and, in +falling, it struck the fumbling experimenter a sharp whack across the +nose. + +The hot-tempered steer, already irritated, flared up at once, and butted +heavily at the fence with his massive forehead. One of the cross-stakes, +already half-rotted through, broke at once, and the two top rails went +down with a crash. Following up this push, he threw his ponderous weight +against the remaining rails, now left unsupported, breasted them down +almost without an effort, and went crashing and triumphing through into +the yard. His mate, who would never himself have dreamed of such a +venture as breaking bounds, stared irresolutely for a few seconds, then +followed through the gap. And side by side the two slaked their thirst, +plunging their broad muzzles into the cool of the trough and lifting +them to blow the drops luxuriously from their nostrils. + +The impulse of Star was now to turn back into the familiar pasture, +according to custom. But Buck, on the other hand, was used to being +_driven_ back and that always more or less under protest. For the first +time in his memory, there was now no one to drive him back. He had a +strange, new sense of freedom, of restraint removed. He was accustomed +to seeing a light in the cabin window about this hour. But there was no +light. The whole place seemed empty with a new kind of emptiness. +Nothing was further from his fancy than to return to the pasture prison +which he had just broken out of. He stood with head uplifted, as if +already the galling memory of the yoke had slipped from off his neck. + +For a minute or two he stood sniffing with wide nostrils, drinking deep +the chill, keen-scented air. It was the same air as he had been +breathing on the other side of the pasture-bars, but it smelt very +different to him. Something there was in it which called him away +irresistibly into the dark, unfenced depths of the forest which +surrounded the clearing. He turned his great head and lowed coaxingly to +his partner, who was standing beside the gap in the pasture fence and +staring after him in placid question. Then he started off with a brisk +step down the shadowy, pale ribbon of the road. + +Star's natural impulse, after drinking, was to return to the familiar, +comfortable pasture; but not without his yoke-mate. The stronger impulse +ruled. With some reluctance and a good deal of bovine wonder, he swung +around and hastened after Buck. The latter waited for him; and side by +side, as if in yoke, though with less labouring steps, they turned off +the deeply rutted highway and moved silently down a mossed old wood road +into the glimmering dark of the forest. + +A sure instinct in Buck's feet was leading them straight away from the +Settlements, straight into the heart of the wilderness. After perhaps an +hour the wood-road led out of the thick forest across a little wild +meadow with a shallow brook babbling softly through it. Here the two +grazed for a time, almost belly deep in the thick-flowered grass, while +the bats flickered and zigzagged above them, and a couple of +whip-poor-wills answered each other monotonously from opposite ends of +the glade. Then they lay down side by side to chew the cud and to sleep, +surrounded by the pungent smell of the stalks of the wild parsnip which +their huge bulks had crushed down. + +They lay in a corner of the glade, close to the dense thickets that +formed the fringe of the woods. Unaccustomed to vigilance, neither their +eyes nor their ears were on the alert. A lynx crept up behind them, +within a dozen paces, glared at them vindictively with its pale, +malignant moon-eyes, and then ran up a tree to get a better look at +these mighty intruders upon his hunting-ground. His claws made a loud +rattling on the bark as he climbed, but neither of the oxen paid any +attention whatever to the sound. Of course, a lynx could not, under any +circumstances, be anything more than an object of mild curiosity to +them, but had it been a pair of hungry panthers, they would have been +equally unconscious and unwarned. They lay with their backs to the +forest, looking out across the open, chewing lazily, and from time to +time heaving windy breaths of deep content. Not a score of yards before +their noses a trailing weasel ran down and killed a hare. At the cry of +the victim Buck opened his half-closed eyes and gave a snort of +disapproval. But Star paid no attention whatever to the little tragedy. +All his faculties were engrossed upon his comfort and his cud. + +A little later a prowling fox came suddenly upon them. He was surprised +to find the pair so far from their pasture, where he had several times +observed them in the course of his wide wanderings. His shrewd mind +jumped to the idea that perhaps the settler, their master, was out with +them; and while he had no objection whatever to the oxen--stupid, +harmless hulks in his eyes--he had the most profound objection to their +master and his gun. He slipped back into cover, encircled the whole +glade stealthily till he picked up their trail, and satisfied himself +that they had come alone. Then he returned and sat down on his tail +deliberately in front of them, cocking his head to one side, as if +inviting them to explain their presence. + +Star returned his gaze with placid indifference, but Buck was annoyed. +In his eyes the fox was a little sharp-nosed dog with a bushy tail and +an exasperating smell. He hated all dogs, but especially little ones, +because they were so elusive when they yapped at his heels. He heaved +himself up with an angry snort, and charged upon the intruder. The fox, +without losing his dignity at all, seemed to drift easily out of reach, +to this side or that, till the ox grew tired of the futile chase. +Moreover, as the fox made no sound and no demonstration of +heel-snapping, Buck's anger presently faded out, and he returned to his +partner's side and lay down again. And the fox, his curiosity satisfied, +trotted away. + +A little later there came a stealthy crashing through the darkness of +the underbush in the rear. But the two oxen never turned their heads. To +them the ominous sound had no significance whatever. A few paces behind +them the crashing came to a sudden stop. A bear, lumbering down toward +the brook-side, to grub in the soft earth for edible roots, had caught +the sound of their breathing and chewing. He knew the sound, for he, +too, like the fox, had prowled about the pasture fence at night. As +noiselessly as a shadow he crept nearer, till he could make out the +contented pair. He knew they belonged to the man, and it made him uneasy +to see them there, so far from where they belonged. He sniffed the air +cautiously, to see if the man was with them. No, the man was not there, +that was soon obvious. He had no thought of attacking them; they were +much too formidable to be meddled with. But why were they there? The +circumstance was, therefore, dangerous. Perhaps the man was designing +some sort of trap for him. He drew back cautiously, and made off by the +way he had come. He had a wholesome respect for the man, and for all his +works and belongings. + +In the first, mysterious, glassy grey of dawn, when thin wisps of vapour +clung curling among the grass-tops, the two wanderers got up and fell to +grazing. Then Star, who was beginning to feel homesick for old pasture +fields, strayed away irresolutely toward the road for home. Buck, +however, would have none of it. He marched off toward the brook, +splashed through, and fell to pasturing again on the farther side. Star, +not enduring to be left alone, immediately joined him. + +That day the pair pressed onward, deeper and deeper into the wilds, Buck +ever eager on the unknown quest, Star ever reluctant, but persuaded. As +a matter of fact, had Star been resolute enough in his reluctance, had +he had the independence to lie down and refuse to go farther, he would +have gained the day, for Buck would never have forsaken him. But +initiative ruled inertia, as is usually the case, and Buck's adventuring +spirit had its way. + +It was a rugged land, but hospitable enough to the wanderers in this +affluent late June weather, through which Buck so confidently led the +way. The giant tangle of the forest was broken by frequent wild meadows, +and foaming streams, and lonely little granite-bordered lakes, and +stretches of sun-steeped barren, all bronze green with blueberry scrub. +There was plenty to eat, plenty to drink, and when the flies and the +heat grew troublesome, it was pleasant to wallow in the cold, +amber-brown pools. Even Star began to forget the home pasture, and +content himself with the freedom which he had never craved. + +How far and to what goal the urge in Buck's untamed heart would have +carried them before exhausting itself, there is no telling. But he had +challenged without knowledge the old, implacable sphinx of the +wilderness. And suddenly, to his undoing, the challenge was accepted. + +On the third day of their wanderings the pair came out upon a river too +deep and wide for even Buck's daring to attempt to cross. The banks were +steep--a succession of rocky bluffs, broken by deep lateral bayous, and +strips of interval meadows where brooks came in through a fringe of +reeds and alders. Buck turned northward, following the bank up stream, +sometimes close to the edge, sometimes a little way back, wheresoever +the easier path or the most tempting patches of pasturage might seem to +lead. He was searching always for some feasible crossing, for his +instinct led him always to get over any barrier. That his path toward +the west had been barred only confirmed him in his impulse to work +westward. + +Late that afternoon, as they burst out, through thick bushes, into a +little grassy glade, they surprised a bear-cub playing with a big yellow +fungus, which he boxed and cuffed about--carefully, so as not to break +his plaything--as a kitten boxes a ball. To Buck, of course, the playful +cub was only another dog, which might be expected to come yapping and +snapping at his heels. With an indignant snort he charged it. + +The cub, at that ominous sound, looked up in astonishment. But when he +saw the terrible red form dashing down upon him across the grass, he +gave a squeal of terror and fled for the shelter of the trees. He was +too young, however, for any great speed or agility, and he had none of +the dog's artfulness in dodging. Before he could gain cover he was +overtaken. Buck's massive front caught him on his haunches, smashing +him into the ground. He gave one agonized squall, and then the life was +crushed out of him. + +Amazed at this easy success--the first of the kind he had ever had--but +immensely proud of himself, the great red ox drew off and eyed his +victim for a second or two, his tail lashing his sides in angry triumph. +Then he fell to goring the small black body, and tossing it into the +air, and battering it again with his forehead as it came down. He was +taking deep vengeance for all the yelping curs which had worried and +eluded him in the past. + +In the midst of this congenial exercise he caught sight, out of the +corner of his eye, of a big black shape just hurling itself upon him. +The mother bear, a giant of her kind, had come to the cry of her little +one. + +Buck whirled with amazing nimbleness to meet the attack. He was in time +to escape the blow which would have cracked even his mighty neck, but +the long, steel-hard claws of his assailant fairly raked off one side of +his face, destroying one eye completely. At the same time, with a +shrill bellow, he lunged forward, driving a short, punishing horn deep +into the bear's chest and hurling her back upon her haunches. + +Dreadful as was his own injury, this fortunate thrust gave him the +advantage for the moment. But, being unlearned in battle, he did not +know enough to follow it up. He drew back to prepare for another charge, +and paused to stamp the ground, and bellow, and shake his horribly +wounded head. + +The mother, heedless of her own deep wound, turned to sniff, whimpering, +at the body of her cub. Seeing at once that it was quite dead, she +wheeled like a flash and hurled herself again upon the slayer. As she +wheeled she came upon Buck's blinded side. He lunged forward once again, +mad for the struggle. But this time, half blind as he was, he was easily +eluded, for the old bear was a skilled fighter. A monstrous weight +crashed down upon his neck, just behind the ears, and the bright green +world grew black before him. He stumbled heavily forward on knees and +muzzle, with a choking bellow. The bear struck again, and with the other +paw tore out his throat, falling upon him and mauling him with silent +fury as he rolled over upon his side. + +Star, meanwhile, being ever slow of wit and of purpose, had been +watching with startled eyes, unable to take in the situation, although a +strange heat was beginning to stretch his veins. But when he saw his +yoke-mate stumble forward on his muzzle, when he heard that choking +bellow of anguish, then the unaccustomed fire found its way up into his +brain. He saw red, and, with a nimbleness far beyond that of Buck at his +swiftest, he launched himself into the battle. + +[Illustration: He launched himself into the battle.] + +The bear, absorbed in the fulness of her vengeance, was taken absolutely +by surprise. It was as if a ton of rock had been hurled against her +flank, rolling her over and crushing her at the same time. In his rage +the great red ox seemed suddenly to develop an aptitude for the battle. +Twisting his head, he buried one horn deep in his adversary's belly, +where he ripped and tore with the all-destructive fury of a mad +rhinoceros. The bear's legs closed convulsively about his head and +shoulders, but in the next instant they relaxed again, falling away +loosely as that ploughing horn reached and pierced the heart. Then Star +drew back, and stood shaking his head to clear the blood out of his +eyes. + +For two days and nights Star stood over his yoke-mate's body, leaving +his post only for a few yards and for a few minutes, at long intervals, +to crop a mouthful of grass or to drink at that cold stream which ran +past the edge of the tragic glade. On the third day two woodsmen, +passing down the river in a canoe, were surprised to hear the lowing of +an ox in that desolate place, far from even the remotest settler's +cabin. The lowing was persistent and appealing. They went ashore and +investigated. + +At the scene which they came upon in the sunny little glade they stood +marvelling. After a time their shrewd conjectures, initiated as they +were in all the mysteries of the wild, arrived at a fairly accurate +interpretation of it all. + +"It was sure some scrap, anyhow," was the final conclusion of one +grizzled investigator; and "Wish't we could 'a' seen it," of the other. +Then, the big red ox, with blood caked over head and horns, being too +admired as well as too valuable to be left behind, they decided that one +of them should stop on shore and drive him, while the other followed +slowly in the canoe. + +At first Star refused stolidly to budge from his dead comrade's side. +But the woodsman was in winter a teamster, and what he did not know +about driving oxen was not worth knowing. He cut a long white stick like +an ox-goad, took his place at Star's side, gave him a firm prod in the +flank, and cried in a voice of authority: "Haw, Bright!" + +At the old command, although "Bright" was not the right name, Star +seemed once more to feel the familiar, and to him not unpleasant, +pressure of the yoke upon his neck. He swerved obediently to the left, +lowering his head and throwing his weight forward to start the +imaginary load, and moved away as his new master ordered. And gradually, +as he went, directed this way or that by the sharp commands of "Gee!" or +"Haw!" and the light reminder of the goad, his grief for his yoke-fellow +began to dull its edge. It was comforting to be once more controlled, to +be snatched back into servitude from a freedom which had proved so +strenuous and so terrible. + + + + +The Trailers + + +Young Stan Murray turned on his heel and went into the house for his +gun. His breast boiled with pity and indignation. The hired man, coming +down from the Upper Field, had just told him that two more of his sheep +had been killed by the bears. The sheep were of fine stock, only lately +introduced to the out-settlements, and they were Stan's special charge. +These two last made seven that the bears had taken within six weeks. +Stan Murray, with the robust confidence of his eighteen years, vowed +that the marauder, or marauders, should be brought to an accounting +without more ado, though it should take him a week to trail them down. +He stuffed some hardtack biscuits and a generous lump of cheese into his +pockets, saw that his Winchester repeater was duly charged, buckled on +his cartridge-belt, and started for the Upper Field. + +The hired man led him to the scene of the tragedy. The two victims--both +full-grown sheep--had been struck down close to the edge of the field, +within a dozen yards of each other. Nothing was left of them there but +their woolly skins and big sploshes of darkened blood on the stiff turf +of the pasture. The carcases had evidently been dragged or carried off +into the dark seclusion of the fir woods which bordered the top and +farther side of the field. It was now just after midday, and Stan and +the hired man agreed, after examination of all the signs, that the +killing must have taken place early the previous night. + +"It's a long ways from here them b'ar'll be by this time, I'm thinkin'," +said the hired man. Not a native of the backwoods, he was little versed +in wilderness lore. + +"Not at all," corrected Murray. "Like as not they're within a half mile +or so of us now. They wouldn't lug those fat sheep far. They'd just eat +what they wanted an' hide the rest in the bushes. And they'd come back +an' finish it up when they'd slept off the first feed. What would they +want to travel for, when they'd got such a dead easy thing right here?" + +"Um-m-m!" grunted the hired man grudgingly. "Mebbe you're right. But I'd +like to know who's been here afore us, an' _rolled up_ this here skin so +tidy-like? T'other skin's left all of a heap, mebbe because it's so torn +'tain't no good to nobody." + +The young woodsman laughed, for all his vexation of spirit. + +"Lot you know about bears, Tom," said he. "You see, there's been _two_ +bears here on this job, curse their dirty hides! One's a youngster, an' +don't know much about skinning a sheep. He's just clawed off the skin +any old way, an' made a mess of it, as you see. But the other's an old +hand, evidently, an' knows what he's about--an old she, likely, an' +perhaps mother of the young one. _She's_ known how to _peel_ off the +skin, rolling it up that way quite as a man might do. Now, Tom, you get +along back home, an' take the skins with you. I'm going after those two, +an' I'm not coming home till I've squared up with 'em over this here +deal." + +For half a mile or more back into the woods the trail of the marauders +was a plain one to follow. Then Murray found the remnants of the two +victims hidden in a mass of thick underbush, several yards apart. The +tracks of the two bears encircled the spot, a plain proclamation of +ownership to any other of the wild creatures which might be inclined to +trespass on that domain. And on the trunk of a tall spruce, standing +close beside the hiding-place, the initiated eyes of young Murray +detected another warning to intruders. The bark at a considerable height +was scored by the marks of mighty claws. The larger bear, after her +meal, had stretched herself like a cat, rearing herself and digging in +her claws against the trunk. And the great height of her reach was a +pointed announcement that her displeasure would be a perilous thing to +reckon with. As Stan Murray stood, estimating the stature of his foe, +his eyes began to sparkle. This would be a trophy worth winning, the +hide and head of such a bear. His wrath against the slayers of his sheep +died away into the emulous zest of the hunter. + +The bears, their hunger satisfied, had gone on straight back into the +wilderness, instead of hanging about the scene of their triumph or +crawling into a neighbouring thicket, as Murray had expected, to sleep +off their heavy feast. Murray thought he knew all about bears. As a +matter of fact, he did know a lot about them. What he did _not_ know was +that no one, however experienced and sympathetic an observer, ever does +achieve to know _all_ about them. The bear is at the opposite pole from +the sheep. He is an individualist. He does not care to do as his +neighbour does. He is ever ready to adapt his habits, as well as his +diet, to the varying of circumstance. He loves to depart from his rules +and confound the naturalists. When you think you've got him, he turns +out to be an old black stump, and laughs in his shaggy sleeve from some +other hidden post of observation. He makes all the other kindred of the +wild, except, perhaps, the shrewd fox, seem like foolish children beside +him. + +For a good hour Murray followed the trail of the two bears, at times +with some difficulty, as the forest gave way in places to breadths of +hard and stony barren, where the great pads left smaller trace. At last, +to his annoyance, in a patch of swamp, where the trail was very clear, +he realized that he was now following one bear only, and that the +smaller of the two. He cast assiduously from side to side, but in vain. +He harked back along the trail for several hundred yards, but he could +find no sign of the other bear, nor of where she had branched off. And +it was just that other that he wanted. However, he decided that as the +two were working together, he would probably find the second by keeping +on after the first, rather than by questing at large for a lost trail. +In any case, as he now reminded himself, it was not a trophy, but +vengeance for his slaughtered sheep that he was out for. + +The trail he had been following hitherto had been hours old. Now, of a +sudden, he noticed with a start that it had become amazingly fresh--so +fresh, indeed, that he felt he might come upon his quarry at any +instant. How did it happen that the trail had thus grown fresh all at +once? Decidedly puzzled, he halted abruptly and sat down upon a stump to +consider the problem. + +At last he came to the conclusion that, somewhere to his rear, the +quarry must have swerved off to one side or the other, either lain down +for a brief siesta, or made a wide detour, then circled back into the +old trail just a little way in advance of him. Again, it seemed, he had +overshot the important and revealing point of the trail. He was nettled, +disappointed in himself. His first impulse was to retrace his steps +minutely, and try to verify this conclusion. Then he reflected that, +after all, he had better content himself with the fact that he was now +close on the heels of the fugitive, and vengeance, perhaps, almost +within his grasp. To go back, for the mere sake of proving a theory, +would be to lose his advantage. Moreover, the afternoon was getting on. +He decided to push forward. + +But now he went warily, peering to this side and to that, and +scrutinizing every thicket, every stump and massive bole. He felt that +he had been too confident, and made too much noise in his going. It was +pretty certain that the quarry would by now be aware of the pursuit, and +cunningly _on_ guard. Twice he had been worsted in woodcraft. He was +determined that the marauders should not score off him a third time. + +For another half-hour he kept on, moving now as noiselessly as a mink, +and watchfully as a wood-mouse. Yet the trail went on as before, and he +could detect no sign that he was gaining on the elusive quarry. At last, +grown suddenly conscious of hunger, he sat down upon a mossy stone and +proceeded to munch his crackers and cheese. He was getting rather out of +conceit with himself, and the meal, hungry though he was, seemed +tasteless. + +As he sat there, gnawing discontentedly at his dry fare, he began to +feel conscious of being watched. The short hairs on the back of his neck +tingled and rose. He looked around sharply, but he could see nothing. +Very softly he rose to his feet. With minutest scrutiny his eyes +searched every object within view. The mingled shadows of the forest +were confusing, of course, but his trained eyes knew how to +differentiate them. Nevertheless, neither behind, nor before, nor on +either side could he make out any living thing, except a little +black-and-white woodpecker, which peered at him with unwinking curiosity +from a gnarled trunk a dozen feet away. From the woodpecker his glance +wandered upwards and interrogated the lower branches of the surrounding +trees. At last he made out the gleam of a pair of pale, malevolent eyes +glaring down upon him from a high branch. Then he made out the shadowy +shape, flattened close to the branch, of a large wild-cat. + +Murray disliked the whole tribe of the wild-cats, as voracious +destroyers of game and cunning depredators upon his poultry, and his +rifle went instantly to his shoulder. But he lowered it again with a +short laugh. He was not bothering just then with wild-cats. He cursed +himself softly as "getting nervous," and sat down again to resume his +meal, satisfied that the sensation at the back of his neck was now +explained. + +But he had not found the true explanation, by any means. In fact, he was +fooled yet again. + +From less than fifty yards ahead of him a little pair of red-rimmed +eyes, half angry and half curious, were watching his every movement. +Crouching behind two great trunks, his quarry was keeping him under wary +observation, ready to slip onward like a shadow, keeping to the shelter +of the thicket and bole and rock, the moment he should show the least +sign of taking up the trail again. + +Moreover, from a slightly greater distance to his rear, another pair of +little red-rimmed eyes, less curious and more angry, also held him under +observation. For an hour or more, at least, the older bear had been +trailing him in her turn with practised cunning. For all her immense +bulk, she had never betrayed herself by so much as the crackling of a +twig; and the unconscious, complacent hunter was being hunted with a +woodcraft far beyond his own. Whenever he stopped, or paused for the +least moment, she came to a stop herself as instantly as if worked by +the same nerve impulse, and stiffened into such stony immobility that +she seemed at once to melt into her surroundings, and became invisible +in the sense of being indistinguishable from them. Among mossy rocks she +seemed to become a rock, among stumps a stump, among thickets a portion +of the dark, shaggy undergrowth. + +Having finished his crackers and cheese, Murray got up, brushed the +crumbs from his jacket, flicked a hard flake of bark contemptuously at +the wild-cat--which darted farther up the tree with an angry growl--and +once more took up the trail. He was beginning now to wonder if he was +going to accomplish anything before the light should fail him, and he +hurried on at a swifter pace. A few hundred yards farther, to his +considerable gratification, the trail swept around in a wide curve +towards the right, and made back towards the Settlement. "Perhaps," he +thought, "that fool of a bear does not know, after all, that I am on his +track, and is going back for the remainder of his supper." + +Encouraged by this idea, he pushed on faster still. + +Then, some ten minutes later, he had reason to regret his haste. +Crossing a patch of soft, open ground, his attention was caught by the +fact that the footprints he was following had miraculously increased in +size. Examination proved that this was no illusion. And now, for the +first time, an unpleasant feeling crept over him. Apparently he was +being played with. The second bear, it was evident, had slipped in and +taken the place of the first, copying an old game of the hunted foxes. + +Murray suddenly felt himself alone and outwitted. If it had been earlier +in the day, he would not have cared; but now it would soon be night. He +had no great dread of bears, as a rule. He was willing to tackle +several of them at once, as long as he had his Winchester and a clear +chance to use it--but after dark he would be at a grievous disadvantage. +If the trail had still been leading away from home, he would probably +have turned back and planned for an early start again next morning. But +as his enemy was going in the right direction, he decided to follow on +as fast as possible, and see if he might not succeed in obtaining a +decision before dark. + +The trail was now almost insolently clear, and he followed it at a lope. +He gained no glimpse of the quarry even at this pace; but at least he +had the satisfaction of knowing, from the increased heaviness of the +footprints and the lengthening of the stride, that he was forcing his +adversary to make haste. Presently it appeared that this was displeasing +to the adversary. The trail went off to the left, at a sharp angle, and +made for a dense cedar swamp, which Murray had no desire to adventure +into at that late hour. He decided to give up the chase for the day and +keep straight for home. + +By this time Murray felt that his knowledge of bears was not quite so +profound as he had fancied it to be. Nevertheless, he was sure of one +thing. He was ready to gamble on it that, as soon as they realized he +had given up trailing them, they would turn and trail him. The idea was +more or less depressing to him in his present mood. He did not greatly +care, however, so long as it was fairly light. He did not think that his +adversaries would have the rashness to attack him even after dark, the +black bear having a very just appreciation of man's power. Still, there +was the chance, and it gave him something to think of. He made a hurried +estimate of the distance he had yet to go, and it was with a distinct +sense of relief he concluded that he would make the open fields before +the closing in of dark. + +The woods at this point were somewhat thick, an abundant second growth +of spruce and fir. Presently they fell away before him, revealing a few +acres of windy grass-land surrounding a deserted cabin. At the sight of +the space of open ground Murray was seized with a new idea. His face +brightened, his self-confidence returned. The bears had, so far, outdone +him thoroughly in woodcraft. Well, he would now show them that he was +their master in tactics. + +He ran staggeringly out into the field, and fell as if exhausted. He lay +for a few seconds, to make sure he was observed by his antagonists, then +picked himself up, raced on across the open as fast as he could, and +plunged into the thick woods on the opposite side. + +As soon as he was hidden, he turned and looked behind him. The growth of +bushes and rank herbage which fringed the other side of the clearing +whence he had come was waving and tossing with the movement of heavy +bodies. For a few moments he thought that his pursuers, grown bold with +his flight, would break forth from their concealment and follow across +the clearing. In that case he might count on bagging them both. + +But no, they were too wary still for that. Presently the tossing of the +bushes began to separate, and moved rapidly both to right and left along +the skirts of the clearing. A smile of triumph spread over Murray's +face. + +"My turn at last!" he muttered, and ran noiselessly, keeping well +hidden, down toward the left-hand corner of the field. He had an idea +that it was the bigger bear which was coming to meet him in that +direction, because the movement of the bushes had seemed the more +violent on that side. He was himself again fully now, the zest of the +hunter swallowing up all other emotions. + +Just at the corner of the field, behind a heap of stones half buried in +herbage, he hid himself, and lay motionless, with his rifle at his +shoulder and finger on the trigger. He could hear the bear coming, for +she was running more carelessly now, under the impression that the enemy +was in full flight. Dry branches snapped, green branches swished and +rustled, and occasionally his straining ears caught the sound of a heavy +but muffled footfall. + +She was almost upon him, however, before he could actually get a view of +her. She came out into a space between two clumps of young fir trees, +not twenty-five yards from his hiding-place, and was just passing him +diagonally, offering a perfect mark. Murray's finger closed, softly and +steadily, on the trigger. The heavy, soft-nosed bullet crashed through +her neck, and she dropped, collapsing on the instant into nothing more +than a heap of rusty-black fur. + +Immensely elated, his dear sheep avenged, and his standing as a hunter +vindicated at last, young Murray strode over and examined his splendid +prize. It was by far the biggest black bear he had ever seen. To the +other of the pair he gave not a thought; he knew that the crack of his +rifle would have cured it of any further curiosity it might have had +about himself. He took out his handkerchief, tied it to the end of a +stick, and stuck the stick into the ground beside the heap of fur, to +serve both as a mark and as a warning to possible trespassers. Then he +made haste home, to fetch a lantern and the hired man, for he would not +leave so splendid a skin all night to the mercies of fox and fisher and +weasel and other foragers of the dark. + + + + +Cock-Crow + + +He was a splendid bird, a thoroughbred "Black-breasted Red" game-cock, +his gorgeous plumage hard as mail, silken with perfect condition, and +glowing like a flame against the darkness of the spruce forest. His +snaky head--the comb and wattles had been trimmed close, after the mode +laid down for his aristocratic kind--was sharp and keen, like a living +spear-point. His eyes were fierce and piercing, ready ever to meet the +gaze of bird, or beast, or man himself, with the unwinking challenge of +their full, arrogant stare. + +Perched upon a stump a few yards from the railway line, he turned that +bold stare now, with an air of unperturbed superciliousness, upon the +wreck of the big freight-car from which he had just escaped. He had +escaped by a miracle, but little effect had that upon his bold and +confident spirit. The ramshackle, overladen freight train, labouring up +the too-steep gradient, had broken in two, thanks to a defective +coupler, near the top of the incline a mile and a half away. The rear +cars--heavy box-cars--had, of course, run back, gathering a terrific +momentum as they went. The rear brakeman, his brakes failing to hold, +had discreetly jumped before the speed became too great. At the foot of +the incline a sharp curve had proved too much for the runaways to +negotiate. With a screech of tortured metal they had jumped the track, +and gone crashing down the high embankment. One car, landing on a +granite boulder, had split apart like a cleft melon. The light crate in +which our game-cock, a pedigree bird, was being carried to a fancier in +the nearest town, some three score miles away, had survived by its very +lightness. But its door had been snapped open. The cock walked out +deliberately, uttered a long, low _krr-rr-ee_ of ironic comment upon the +disturbance, hopped delicately over the tangle of boxes and crates and +agricultural implements, and flew to the top of the nearest stump. +There he shook himself, his plumage being disarrayed, though his spirit +was not. He flapped his wings. Then, eyeing the wreckage keenly, he gave +a shrill, triumphant crow, which rang through the early morning +stillness of the forest like a challenge. He felt that the smashed car, +so lately his prison, was a foe which he had vanquished by his own +unaided prowess. His pride was not altogether unnatural. + +The place where he stood preening the red glory of his plumage was in +the very heart of the wilderness. The only human habitation within a +dozen miles in either direction was a section-man's shanty, guarding a +siding and a rusty water-tank. The woods--mostly spruce in that region, +with patches of birch and poplar--had been gone over by the lumbermen +some five years before, and still showed the ravages of the insatiable +axe. Their narrow "tote-roads," now deeply mossed and partly overgrown +by small scrub, traversed the lonely spaces in every direction. One of +these roads led straight back into the wilderness from the +railway--almost from the stump whereon the red cock had his perch. + +The cock had no particular liking for the neighbourhood of the accident, +and when his fierce, inquiring eye fell upon this road, he decided to +investigate, hoping it might lead him to some flock of his own kind, +over whom he would, as a matter of course, promptly establish his +domination. That there would be other cocks there, already in charge, +only added to his zest for the adventure. He was raising his wings to +hop down from his perch, when a wide-winged shadow passed over him, and +he checked himself, glancing upwards sharply. + +A foraging hawk had just flown overhead. The hawk had never before seen +a bird like the bright figure standing on the stump, and he paused in +his flight, hanging for a moment on motionless wing to scrutinise the +strange apparition. But he was hungry, and he considered himself more +than a match for anything in feathers except the eagle, the goshawk, and +the great horned owl. His hesitation was but for a second, and, with a +sudden mighty thrust of his wide wings, he swooped down upon this novel +victim. + +The big hawk was accustomed to seeing every quarry he stooped at cower +paralysed with terror or scurry for shelter in wild panic. But, to his +surprise, this infatuated bird on the stump stood awaiting him, with +wings half lifted, neck feathers raised in a defiant ruff, and one eye +cocked upwards warily. He was so surprised, in fact, that at a distance +of some dozen or fifteen feet he wavered and paused in his downward +rush. But it was surprise only, fear having small place in his wild, +marauding heart. In the next second he swooped again and struck +downwards at his quarry with savage, steel-hard talons. + +He struck but empty air. At exactly the right fraction of the instant +the cock had leapt upwards on his powerful wings, lightly as a +thistle-seed, but swift as if shot from a catapult. He passed straight +over his terrible assailant's back. In passing he struck downwards with +his spurs, which were nearly three inches long, straight, and tapered +almost to a needle-point. One of these deadly weapons found its mark, as +luck would have it, fair in the joint of the hawk's shoulder, putting +the wing clean out of action. + +The marauder turned completely over and fell in a wild flutter to the +ground, the cock, at the same time, alighting gracefully six or eight +feet away and wheeling like a flash to meet a second attack. The hawk, +recovering with splendid nerve from the amazing shock of his overthrow, +braced himself upright on his tail by the aid of the one sound wing--the +other wing trailing helplessly--and faced his strange adversary with +open beak and one clutching talon uplifted. + +The cock, fighting after the manner of his kind, rushed in to within a +couple of feet of his foe and there paused, balanced for the next stroke +or parry, legs slightly apart, wings lightly raised, neck feathers +ruffed straight out, beak lowered and presented like a rapier point. +Seeing that his opponent made no demonstration, but simply waited, +watching him with eyes as hard and bright and dauntless as his own, he +tried to provoke him to a second attack. With scornful insolence he +dropped his guard and pecked at a twig or a grass blade, jerking the +unconsidered morsel aside and presenting his point again with lightning +swiftness. + +The insult, however, was lost upon the hawk, who had no knowledge of the +cock's duelling code. He simply waited, motionless as the stump beside +him. + +[Illustration: Leaping upwards and striking downwards with his +destroying heels.] + +The cock, perceiving that taunt and insolence were wasted, now began to +circle warily toward the left, as if to take his opponent in the flank. +The hawk at once shifted front to face him. But this was the side of his +disabled wing. The sprawling member would not move, would not get out of +the way. In the effort to manage it, he partly lost his precarious +balance. The cock saw his advantage instantly. He dashed in like a +feathered and flaming thunderbolt, leaping upwards and striking +downwards with his destroying heels. The hawk was hurled over backwards, +with one spur through his throat, the other through his lungs. As he +fell he dragged his conqueror down with him, and one convulsive but +blindly-clutching talon ripped away a strip of flesh and feathers from +the victor's thigh. There was a moment's flapping, a few delicate red +feathers floated off upon the morning air, then the hawk lay quite +still, and the red cock, stepping haughtily off the body of his foe, +crowed long and shrill, three times, as if challenging any other +champions of the wilderness to come and dare a like fate. + +For a few minutes he stood waiting and listening for an answer to his +challenge. As no answer came, he turned, without deigning to glance at +his slain foe, and stalked off, stepping daintily, up the old wood-road +and into the depths of the forest. To the raw, red gash in his thigh he +paid no heed whatever. + +Having no inkling of the fact that the wilderness, silent and deserted +though it seemed, was full of hostile eyes and unknown perils, he took +no care at all for the secrecy of his going. Indeed, had he striven for +concealment, his brilliant colouring, so out of key with the forest +gloom, would have made it almost impossible. Nevertheless, his keenness +of sight and hearing, his practised and unsleeping vigilance as +protector of his flock, stood him in good stead, and made up for his +lack of wilderness lore. It was with an intense interest and curiosity, +rather than with any apprehension, that his bold eyes questioned +everything on either side of his path through the dark spruce woods. +Sometimes he would stop to peck the bright vermilion bunches of the +pigeon-berry, which here and there starred the hillocks beside the road. +But no matter how interesting he found the novel and delicious fare, his +vigilance never relaxed. It was, indeed, almost automatic. The idea +lurking in his subconscious processes was probably that he might at any +moment be seen by some doughty rival of his own kind, and challenged to +the great game of mortal combat. But whatever the object of his +watchfulness, it served him as well against the unknown as it could have +done against expected foes. + +Presently he came to a spot where an old, half-rotted stump had been +torn apart by a bear hunting for wood-ants. The raw earth about the +up-torn roots tempted the wanderer to scratch for grubs. Finding a fat +white morsel, much too dainty to be devoured alone, he stood over it and +began to call _kt-kt-kt_, _kt-kt-kt_, _kt-kt-kt_ in his most alluring +tones, hoping that some coy young hen would come stealing out of the +underbrush in response to his gallant invitation. There was no such +response; but as he peered about hopefully, he caught sight of a +sinister, reddish-yellow shape creeping towards him behind the shelter +of a withe-wood bush. He gulped down the fat grub, and stood warily +eyeing the approach of this new foe. + +It looked to him like a sharp-nosed, bushy-tailed yellow dog--a very +savage and active one. He was not afraid, but he knew himself no match +for a thoroughly ferocious dog of that size. This one, it was clear, had +evil designs upon him. He half crouched, with wings loosed and every +muscle tense for the spring. + +The next instant the fox pounced at him, darting through the green edges +of the withe-wood bush with most disconcerting suddenness. The cock +sprang into the air, but only just in time, for the fox, leaping up +nimbly at him with snapping jaws, captured a mouthful of glossy tail +feathers. The cock alighted on a branch overhead, some seven or eight +feet from the ground, whipped around, stretched his neck downwards, and +eyed his assailant with a glassy stare. "_Kr-rr-rr-eee?_" he murmured +softly, as if in sarcastic interrogation. The fox, exasperated at his +failure, and hating, above all beasts, to be made a fool of, glanced +around to see if there were any spectators. Then, with an air of +elaborate indifference, he pawed a feather from the corner of his mouth +and trotted away as if he had just remembered something. + +He had not gone above thirty yards or so, when the cock flew down again +to the exact spot where he had been scratching. He pretended to pick up +another grub, all the time keeping an eye on the retiring foe. He crowed +with studied insolence; but the fox, although that long and shrill +defiance must have seemed a startling novelty, gave no sign of having +heard it. The cock crowed again, with the same lack of result. He kept +on crowing until the fox was out of sight. Then he returned coolly to +his scratching. When he had satisfied his appetite for fat white grubs, +he flew up again to his safe perch and fell to pruning his feathers. +Five minutes later the fox reappeared, creeping up with infinite stealth +from quite another direction. The cock, however, detected his approach +at once, and proclaimed the fact with another mocking crow. Disgusted +and abashed, the fox turned in his tracks and crept away to stalk some +less sophisticated quarry. + +The wanderer, for all his fearlessness, was wise. He suspected that the +vicious yellow dog with the bushy tail might return yet again to the +charge. For a time, therefore, he sat on his perch, digesting his meal +and studying with keen, inquisitive eyes his strange surroundings. +After ten minutes or so of stillness and emptiness, the forest began to +come alive. He saw a pair of black-and-white woodpeckers running up and +down the trunk of a half-dead tree, and listened with tense interest to +their loud rat-tat-tattings. He watched the shy wood-mice come out from +their snug holes under the tree-roots, and play about with timorous +gaiety and light rustlings among the dead leaves. He scrutinised with +appraising care a big brown rabbit which came bounding in a leisurely +fashion down the tote-road and sat up on his hindquarters near the +stump, staring about with its mild, bulging eyes, and waving its long +ears this way and that, to question every minutest wilderness sound; and +he decided that the rabbit, for all its bulk and apparent vigour of +limb, would not be a dangerous opponent. In fact, he thought of hopping +down from his perch and putting the big innocent to flight, just to +compensate himself for having had to flee from the fox. + +But while he was meditating this venture, the rabbit went suddenly +leaping off at a tremendous pace, evidently in great alarm. A few +seconds later a slim little light-brownish creature, with short legs, +long, sinuous body, short, triangular head, and cruel eyes that glowed +like fire, came into view, following hard upon the rabbit's trail. It +was nothing like half the rabbit's size, but the interested watcher on +the branch overhead understood at once the rabbit's terror. He had never +seen a weasel before, but he knew that the sinuous little beast with the +eyes of death would be as dangerous almost as the fox. He noted that +here was another enemy to look out for--to be avoided, if possible, to +be fought with the utmost wariness if fighting should be forced upon +him. + +Not long after the weasel had vanished, the cock grew tired of waiting, +and restless to renew the quest for the flock on which his dreams were +set. He started by flying from tree to tree, still keeping along the +course of the tote-road. But after he had covered perhaps a half-mile in +this laborious fashion, he gave it up and hopped down again into the +road. Here he went now with new caution, but with the same old arrogance +of eye and bearing. He went quickly, however, for the gloom of the +spruce wood had grown oppressive to him, and he wanted open fields and +the unrestricted sun. + +He had not gone far when he caught sight of a curious-looking animal +advancing slowly down the path to meet him. It was nearly as big as the +rabbit, but low on the legs; and instead of leaping along, it crawled +with a certain heavy deliberation. Its colour was a dingy, greyish +black-and-white, and its short black head was crowned with what looked +like a heavy iron-grey pompadour brushed well back. The cock stood +still, eyeing its approach suspiciously. It did not look capable of any +very swift demonstration, but he was on his guard. + +When it had come within three or four yards of him, he said +"_Kr-rr-rr-eee!_" sharply, just to see what it would do, at the same +time lowering his snaky head and ruffing out his neck feathers in +challenge. The stranger seemed then to notice him for the first time, +and instantly, to the cock's vast surprise, it enlarged itself to fully +twice its previous size. Its fur, which was now seen to be quills rather +than fur, stood up straight on end all over its head and body, and the +quills were two or three inches in length. At this amazing spectacle the +cock involuntarily backed away several paces. The stranger came straight +on, however, without hastening his deliberate steps one jot. The cock +waited, maintaining his attitude of challenge, till not more than three +or four feet separated him from the incomprehensible apparition. Then he +sprang lightly over it and turned in a flash, expecting the stranger to +turn also and again confront him. The stranger, however, did nothing of +the kind, but simply continued stolidly on his way, not even troubling +to look round. Such stolidity was more than the cock could understand, +having never encountered a porcupine before. He stared after it for +some moments. Then he crowed scornfully, turned about, and resumed his +lonely quest. + +A little further on, to his great delight, he came out into a small +clearing with a log cabin in the centre of it. A house! It was +associated in his mind with an admiring, devoted flock of hens, and +rivals to be ignominiously routed, and harmless necessary humans whose +business it was to supply unlimited food. He rushed forward eagerly, +careless as to whether he should encounter love or war. + +Alas, the cabin was deserted! Even to his inexperienced eye it was long +deserted. The door hung on one hinge, half open. The one small window +had no glass in it. Untrodden weeds grew among the rotting chips up to +and across the threshold. The roof--a rough affair of poles and +bark--sagged in the middle, just ready to fall in at the smallest +provocation. A red squirrel, his tail carried jauntily over his back, +sat on the topmost peak of it and shrilled high derision at the wanderer +as he approached. + +The cock was acquainted with squirrels, and thought less than nothing of +them. Ignoring the loud chatter, he tip-toed around the cabin, dejected +but still inquisitive. Returning at length to the doorway, he peered in, +craning his neck and uttering a low _kr-rr_. Finally, with head held +high, he stalked in. The place was empty, save for a long bench with a +broken leg and a joint of rust-eaten stove-pipe. Along two of the walls +ran a double tier of bunks, in which the lumbermen had formerly slept. +The cock stalked all around the place, prying in every corner and +murmuring softly to himself. At last he flew up to the highest bunk, +perched upon the edge of it, flapped his wings, and crowed repeatedly, +as if announcing to the wilderness at large that he had taken +possession. This ceremony accomplished, he flew down again, stalked out +into the sunlight, and fell to scratching among the chips with an air of +assured possession. And all the while the red squirrel kept on hurling +shrill, unheeded abuse at him, resenting him as an intruder in the +wilds. + +Whenever the cock found a particularly choice grub or worm or beetle, he +would hold it aloft in his beak, then lay it down and call loudly +_kt-kt-kt-kt-kt-kt_, as if hoping thus to lure some flock of hens to the +fair domain which he had seized. He had now dropped his quest, and was +trusting that his subjects would come to him. That afternoon his valiant +calls caught the ear of a weasel--possibly the very one which he had +seen in the morning trailing the panic-stricken rabbit. The weasel came +rushing upon him at once, too ferocious in its blood-lust for any such +emotions as surprise or curiosity, and expecting an easy conquest. The +cock saw it coming, and knew well the danger. But he was now on his own +ground, responsible for the protection of an imaginary flock. He faced +the peril unwavering. Fortunately for him, the weasel had no idea +whatever of a fighting-cock's method of warfare. When the cock evaded +the deadly rush by leaping straight at it and over it, instead of +dodging aside or turning tail, the weasel was nonplussed for just a +fraction of a second, and stood snarling. In that instant of hesitation +the cock's keen spur struck it fairly behind the ear, and drove clean +into the brain. The murderous little beast stiffened out, rolled gently +over upon its side, and lay there with the soundless snarl fixed upon +its half-opened jaws. Surprised at such an easy victory, the cock +spurred the carcase again, just to make sure of it. Then he kicked it to +one side, crowed, of course, and stared around wistfully for some +appreciation of his triumph. He could not know with what changed eyes +the squirrel--who feared weasels more than anything else on earth--was +now regarding him. + +The killing of so redoubtable an adversary as the weasel must have +become known, in some mysterious fashion, for thenceforward no more of +the small marauders of the forest ventured to challenge the new lordship +of the clearing. For a week the cock ruled his solitude unquestioned, +very lonely, but sleeplessly alert, and ever hoping that followers of +his own kind would come to him from somewhere. In time, doubtless, his +loneliness would have driven him forth again upon his quest; but Fate +had other things in store for him. + +Late one afternoon a grizzled woodsman in grey homespun, and carrying a +bundle swung from the axe over his shoulder, came striding up to the +cabin. The cock, pleased to see a human being once more, stalked forth +from the cabin door to meet him. The woodsman was surprised at the sight +of what he called a "reel barn-yard rooster" away off here in the wilds, +but he was too tired and hungry to consider the question carefully. His +first thought was that there would be a pleasant addition to his supper +of bacon and biscuits. He dropped his axe and bundle, and made a swift +grab at the unsuspecting bird. The latter dodged cleverly, ruffed his +neck feathers with an angry _kr-rr-rr_, hopped up, and spurred the +offending hand severely. + +The woodsman straightened himself up, taken by surprise, and sheepishly +shook the blood from his hand. + +"Well, I'll be damned!" he muttered, eyeing the intrepid cock with +admiration. "You're some rooster, you are! I guess you're all right. +Guess I deserved that, for thinkin' of wringin' the neck o' sech a +handsome an' gritty bird as you, an' me with plenty o' good bacon in me +pack. Guess we'll call it square, eh?" + +He felt in his pocket for some scraps of biscuits, and tossed them to +the cock, who picked them up greedily and then strutted around him, +plainly begging for more. The biscuit was a delightful change after an +unvarying diet of grubs and grass. Thereafter he followed his visitor +about like his shadow, not with servility, of course, but with a certain +condescending arrogance which the woodsman found hugely amusing. + +Just outside the cabin door the woodsman lit a fire to cook his evening +rasher and brew his tin of tea. The cock supped with him, striding with +dignity to pick up the scraps which were thrown to him, and then +resuming his place at the other side of the fire. By the time the man +was done, dusk had fallen; and the cock, chuckling contentedly in his +throat, tip-toed into the cabin, flew up to the top bunk, and settled +himself on his perch for the night. He had always been taught to expect +benefits from men, and he felt that this big stranger who had fed him so +generously would find him a flock to preside over on the morrow. + +After a long smoke beside his dying fire, till the moon came up above +the ghostly solitude, the woodsman turned in to sleep in one of the +lower bunks, opposite to where the cock was roosting. He had heaped an +armful of bracken and spruce branches into the bunk before spreading his +blanket. And he slept very soundly. + +Even the most experienced of woodsmen may make a slip at times. This +one, this time, had forgotten to make quite sure that his fire was out. +There was no wind when he went to bed, but soon afterwards a wind arose, +blowing steadily toward the cabin. It blew the darkened embers to a +glow, and little, harmless-looking flames began eating their way over +the top layer of tinder-dry chips to the equally dry wall of the cabin. + + * * * * * + +The cock was awakened by a bright light in his eyes. A fiery glow, +beyond the reddest of sunrises, was flooding the cabin. Long tongues of +flame were licking about the doorway. He crowed valiantly, to greet this +splendid, blazing dawn. He crowed again and yet again, because he was +anxious and disturbed. As a sunrise, this one did not act at all +according to precedent. + +The piercing notes aroused the man, who was sleeping heavily. In one +instant he was out of his bunk and grabbing up his blanket and his pack. +In the next he had plunged out through the flaming doorway, and thrown +down his armful at a safe distance, cursing acidly at such a disturbance +to the most comfortable rest he had enjoyed for a week. + +From within the doomed cabin came once more the crow of the cock, +shrilling dauntlessly above the crackle and venomous hiss of the flames. + +"Gee whizz!" muttered the woodsman, or, rather, that may be taken as the +polite equivalent of his untrammelled backwoods expletive. "That there +red rooster's game. Ye can't leave a pardner like that to roast!" + +With one arm shielding his face, he dashed in again, grabbed the cock by +the legs, and darted forth once more into the sweet, chill air, none the +worse except for frizzled eyelashes and an unceremonious trimming of +hair and beard. The cock, highly insulted, was flapping and pecking +savagely, but the man soon reduced him to impotence, if not submission, +holding him under one elbow while he tied his armed heels together, and +then swaddling him securely in his coat. + +"There," said he, "I guess we'll travel together from this out, pardner. +Ye've sure saved my life; an' to think I had the notion, for a minnit, +o' makin' a meal offen ye! I'll give ye a good home, anyways, an' I +guess ye'll lick the socks offen every other rooster in the whole blame +Settlement!" + + + + +The Ledge on Bald Face + + +That one stark naked side of the mountain which gave it its name of Old +Bald Face fronted full south. Scorched by sun and scourged by storm +throughout the centuries, it was bleached to an ashen pallor that +gleamed startlingly across the leagues of sombre, green-purple +wilderness outspread below. From the base of the tremendous bald steep +stretched off the interminable leagues of cedar swamp, only to be +traversed in dry weather or in frost. All the region behind the mountain +face was an impenetrable jumble of gorges, pinnacles, and chasms, with +black woods clinging in crevice and ravine and struggling up desperately +towards the light. + +In the time of spring and autumn floods, when the cedar swamps were +impenetrable to all save mink, otter, and musk-rat, the only way from +the western plateau to the group of lakes that formed the source of the +Ottanoonsis, on the east, was by a high, nerve-testing trail across the +wind-swept brow of Old Bald Face. The trail followed a curious ledge, +sometimes wide enough to have accommodated an ox-wagon, at other times +so narrow and so perilous that even the sure-eyed caribou went warily in +traversing it. + +The only inhabitants of Bald Face were the eagles, three pairs of them, +who had their nests, widely separated from each other in haughty +isolation, on jutting shoulders and pinnacles accessible to no one +without wings. Though the ledge-path at its highest point was far above +the nests, and commanded a clear view of one of them, the eagles had +learned to know that those who traversed the pass were not troubling +themselves about eagles' nests. They had also observed another thing--of +interest to them only because their keen eyes and suspicious brains were +wont to note and consider everything that came within their purview--and +that was that the scanty traffic by the pass had its more or less +regular times and seasons. In seasons of drought or hard frost it +vanished altogether. In seasons of flood it increased the longer the +floods lasted. And whenever there was any passing at all, the movement +was from east to west in the morning, from west to east in the +afternoon. + +This fact may have been due to some sort of dimly recognised convention +among the wild kindreds, arrived at in some subtle way to avoid +unnecessary--and necessarily deadly--misunderstanding and struggle. For +the creatures of the wild seldom fight for fighting's sake. They fight +for food, or, in the mating season, they fight in order that the best +and strongest may carry off the prizes. + +But mere purposeless risk and slaughter they instinctively strive to +avoid. The airy ledge across Bald Face, therefore, was not a place where +the boldest of the wild kindred--the bear or the bull-moose, to say +nothing of lesser champions--would wilfully invite the doubtful combat. +If, therefore, it had been somehow arrived at that there should be no +disastrous meetings, no face-to-face struggles for the right of way, at +a spot where dreadful death was inevitable for one or both of the +combatants, that would have been in no way inconsistent with the +accepted laws and customs of the wilderness. On the other hand, it is +possible that this alternate easterly and westerly drift of the wild +creatures--a scanty affair enough at best of times--across the front of +Bald Face was determined in the first place, on clear days, by their +desire not to have the sun in their eyes in making the difficult +passage, and afterwards hardened into custom. It was certainly better to +have the sun behind one in treading the knife-edge pass above the +eagles. + +Joe Peddler found it troublesome enough, that strong, searching glare +from the unclouded sun of early morning full in his eyes, as he worked +over toward the Ottanoonsis lakes. He had never attempted the crossing +of Old Bald Face before, and he had always regarded with some scorn the +stories told by Indians of the perils of that passage. But already, +though he had accomplished but a small portion of his journey, and was +still far from the worst of the pass, he had been forced to the +conclusion that report had not exaggerated the difficulties of his +venture. However, he was steady of head and sure of foot, and the higher +he went in that exquisitely clear, crisp air, the more pleased he felt +with himself. His great lungs drank deep of the tonic wind which surged +against him rhythmically, and seemed to him to come unbroken from the +outermost edges of the world. His eyes widened and filled themselves, +even as his lungs, with the ample panorama that unfolded before them. He +imagined--for the woodsman, dwelling so much alone, is apt to indulge +some strange imaginings--that he could feel his very spirit enlarging, +as if to take full measure of these splendid breadths of sunlit, +wind-washed space. + +Presently, with a pleasant thrill, he observed that just ahead of him +the ledge went round an abrupt shoulder of the rock-face at a point +where there was a practically sheer drop of many hundreds of feet into +what appeared a feather-soft carpet of tree-tops. He looked shrewdly to +the security of his footing as he approached, and also to the +roughnesses of the rock above the ledge, in case a sudden violent gust +should chance to assail him just at the turn. He felt that at such a +spot it would be so easy--indeed, quite natural--to be whisked off by +the sportive wind, whirled out into space, and dropped into that green +carpet so far below. + +In his flexible oil-tanned "larrigans" of thick cowhide, Peddler moved +noiselessly as a wild-cat, even over the bare stone of the ledge. He was +like a grey shadow drifting slowly across the bleached face of the +precipice. As he drew near the bend of the trail, of which not more than +eight or ten paces were now visible to him, he felt every nerve grow +tense with exhilarating expectation. Yet, even so, what happened was the +utterly unexpected. + +Around the bend before him, stepping daintily on her fine hooves, came a +young doe. She completely blocked the trail just on that dizzy edge. + +Peddler stopped short, tried to squeeze himself to the rock like a +limpet, and clutched with fingers of iron at a tiny projection. + +The doe, for one second, seemed petrified with amazement. It was +contrary to all tradition that she should be confronted on that trail. +Then, her amazement instantly dissolving into sheer madness of panic, +she wheeled about violently to flee. But there was no room for even her +lithe body to make the turn. The inexorable rock-face bounced her off, +and with an agonised bleat, legs sprawling and great eyes starting from +their sockets, she went sailing down into the abyss. + +With a heart thumping in sympathy, Peddler leaned outward and followed +that dreadful flight, till she reached that treacherously soft-looking +carpet of tree-tops and was engulfed by it. A muffled crash came up to +Peddler's ears. + +"Poor leetle beggar!" he muttered. "I wish't I hadn't scared her so. +But I'd a sight rather it was her than me!" + +Peddler's exhilaration was now considerably damped. He crept cautiously +to the dizzy turn of the ledge and peered around. The thought upon which +his brain dwelt with unpleasant insistence was that if it had been a +surly old bull-moose or a bear which had confronted him so unexpectedly, +instead of that nervous little doe, he might now be lying beneath that +deceitful green carpet in a state of dilapidation which he did not care +to contemplate. + +Beyond the turn the trail was clear to his view for perhaps a couple of +hundred yards. It climbed steeply through a deep re-entrant, a mighty +perpendicular corrugation of the rock-face, and then disappeared again +around another jutting bastion. He hurried on rather feverishly, not +liking that second interruption to his view, and regretting, for the +first time, that he had no weapon with him but his long hunting-knife. +He had left his rifle behind him as a useless burden to his climbing. +No game was now in season, no skins in condition to be worth the +shooting, and he had food enough for the journey in his light pack. He +had not contemplated the possibility of any beast, even bear or +bull-moose, daring to face him, because he knew that, except in +mating-time, the boldest of them would give a man wide berth. But, as he +now reflected, here on this narrow ledge even a buck or a lynx would +become dangerous, finding itself suddenly at bay. + +The steepness of the rise in the trail at this point almost drove +Peddler to helping himself with his hands. As he neared the next turn, +he was surprised to note, far out to his right, a soaring eagle, perhaps +a hundred feet below him. He was surprised, too, by the fact that the +eagle was paying no attention to him whatever, in spite of his invasion +of the great bird's aerial domain. Instinctively he inferred that the +eagle's nest must be in some quite inaccessible spot at safe distance +from the ledge. He paused to observe from above, and thus fairly near at +hand, the slow flapping of those wide wings, as they employed the wind +to serve the majesty of their flight. While he was studying this, +another deduction from the bird's indifference to his presence flashed +upon his mind. There must be a fairly abundant traffic of the wild +creatures across this pass, or the eagle would not be so indifferent to +his presence. At this thought he lost his interest in problems of +flight, and hurried forward again, anxious to see what might be beyond +the next turn of the trail. + +His curiosity was gratified all too abruptly for his satisfaction. He +reached the turn, craned his head around it, and came face to face with +an immense black bear. + +The bear was not a dozen feet away. At sight of Peddler's gaunt dark +face and sharp blue eyes appearing thus abruptly and without visible +support around the rock, he shrank back upon his haunches with a +startled "woof." + +As for Peddler, he was equally startled, but he had too much discretion +and self-control to show it. Never moving a muscle, and keeping his body +out of sight so that his face seemed to be suspended in mid-air, he +held the great beast's eyes with a calm, unwinking gaze. + +The bear was plainly disconcerted. After a few seconds he glanced back +over his shoulder, and seemed to contemplate a strategic movement to the +rear. As the ledge at this point was sufficiently wide for him to turn +with due care, Peddler expected now to see him do so. But what Peddler +did not know was that dim but cogent "law of the ledge," which forbade +all those who travelled by it to turn and retrace their steps, or to +pass in the wrong direction at the wrong time. He did not know what the +bear knew namely--that if that perturbed beast _should_ turn, he was +sure to be met and opposed by other wayfarers, and thus to find himself +caught between two fires. + +Watching steadily, Peddler was unpleasantly surprised to see the +perturbation in the bear's eyes slowly change into a savage +resentment--resentment at being baulked in his inalienable right to an +unopposed passage over the ledge. To the bear's mind that grim, +confronting face was a violation of the law which he himself obeyed +loyally and without question. To be sure, it was the face of man, and +therefore to be dreaded. It was also mysterious, and therefore still +more to be dreaded. But the sense of bitter injustice, with the +realisation that he was at bay and taken at a disadvantage, filled him +with a frightened rage which swamped all other emotion. Then he came on. + +His advance was slow and cautious by reason of the difficulty of the +path and his dread lest that staring, motionless face should pounce upon +him just at the perilous turn and hurl him over the brink. But Peddler +knew that his bluff was called, and that his only chance was to avoid +the encounter. He might have fled by the way he had come, knowing that +he would have every advantage in speed on that narrow trail. But before +venturing up to the turn he had noted a number of little projections and +crevices in the perpendicular wall above him. Clutching at them with +fingers of steel and unerring toes, he swarmed upwards as nimbly as a +climbing cat. He was a dozen feet up before the bear came crawling and +peering around the turn. + +Elated at having so well extricated himself from so dubious a situation, +Peddler gazed down upon his opponent and laughed mockingly. The sound of +that confident laughter from straight above his head seemed to daunt the +bear and thoroughly damp his rage. He crouched low, and scurried past +growling. As he hurried along the trail at a rash pace, he kept casting +anxious glances over his shoulder, as if he feared the man were going to +chase him. Peddler lowered himself from his friendly perch and continued +his journey, cursing himself more than ever for having been such a fool +as not to bring his rifle. + +In the course of the next half-hour he gained the highest point of the +ledge, which here was so broken and precarious that he had little +attention to spare for the unparalleled sweep and splendour of the view. +He was conscious, however, all the time, of the whirling eagles, now far +below him, and his veins thrilled with intense exhilaration. His +apprehensions had all vanished under the stimulus of that tonic +atmosphere. He was on the constant watch, however, scanning not only the +trail ahead--which was now never visible for more than a hundred yards +or so at a time--and also the face of the rock above him, to see if it +could be scaled in an emergency. + +He had no expectation of an emergency, because he knew nothing of the +law of the ledge. Having already met a doe and a bear, he naturally +inferred that he would not be likely to meet any other of the elusive +kindreds of the wild, even in a whole week of forest faring. The shy and +wary beasts are not given to thrusting themselves upon man's dangerous +notice, and it was hard enough to find them, with all his woodcraft, +even when he was out to look for them. He was, therefore, so surprised +that he could hardly believe his eyes when, on rounding another +corrugation of the rock-face, he saw another bear coming to meet him. + +"Gee!" muttered Peddler to himself. "Who's been lettin' loose the +menagerie? Or hev I got the nightmare, mebbe?" + +The bear was about fifty yards distant--a smaller one than its +predecessor, and much younger also, as was obvious to Peddler's +initiated eye by the trim glossiness of its coat. It halted the instant +it caught sight of Peddler. But Peddler, for his part, kept right on, +without showing the least sign of hesitation or surprise. This bear, +surely, would give way before him. The beast hesitated, however. It was +manifestly afraid of the man. It backed a few paces, whimpering in a +worried fashion, then stopped, staring up the rock-wall above it, as if +seeking escape in that impossible direction. + +"If ye're so skeered o' me as ye look," demanded Peddler, in a crisp +voice, "why in h--ll don't ye turn an' vamoose, 'stead o' backin' an' +fillin' that way? Ye can't git up that there rock, 'less ye're a fly." + +The ledge at that point was a comparatively wide and easy path; and the +bear at length, as if decided by the easy confidence of Peddler's +tones, turned and retreated. But it went off with such reluctance, +whimpering anxiously the while, that Peddler was forced to the +conclusion there must be something coming up the trail which it was +dreading to meet. At this idea Peddler was delighted, and hurried on as +closely as possible at the retreating animal's heels. The bear, he +reflected, would serve him as an excellent advance guard, protecting him +perfectly from surprise, and perhaps, if necessary, clearing the way for +him. He chuckled to himself as he realised the situation, and the bear, +catching the incomprehensible sound, glanced nervously over its shoulder +and hastened its retreat as well as the difficulties of the path would +allow. + +The trail was now descending rapidly, though irregularly, towards the +eastern plateau. The descent was broken by here and there a stretch of +comparatively level going, here and there a sharp though brief rise, and +at one point the ledge was cut across by a crevice some four feet in +width. As a jump, of course, it was nothing to Peddler; but in spite of +himself he took it with some trepidation, for the chasm looked +infinitely deep, and the footing on the other side narrow and +precarious. The bear, however, had seemed to take it quite carelessly, +almost in its stride, and Peddler, not to be outdone, assumed a similar +indifference. + +It was not long, however, before the enigma of the bear's reluctance to +retrace its steps was solved. The bear, with Peddler some forty or fifty +paces behind, was approaching one of those short steep rises which broke +the general descent. From the other side of the rise came a series of +heavy breathings and windy grunts. + +"Moose, by gum!" exclaimed Peddler. "Now, I'd like to know if _all_ the +critters hev took it into their heads to cross Old Bald Face to-day!" + +The bear heard the gruntlings also, and halted unhappily, glancing back +at Peddler. + +"Git on with it!" ordered Peddler sharply. And the bear, dreading man +more than moose, got on. + +The next moment a long, dark, ominous head, with massive, overhanging +lip and small angry eyes, appeared over the rise. Behind this formidable +head laboured up the mighty humped shoulders and then the whole towering +form of a moose-bull. Close behind him followed two young cows and a +yearling calf. + +"Huh! I guess there's goin' to be some row!" muttered Peddler, and cast +his eyes up the rock-face, to look for a point of refuge in case his +champion should get the worst of it. + +At sight of the bear the two cows and the yearling halted, and stood +staring, with big ears thrust forward anxiously, at the foe that barred +their path. But the arrogant old bull kept straight on, though slowly, +and with the wariness of the practised duellist. At this season of the +year his forehead wore no antlers, indeed, but in his great knife-edged +fore-hooves he possessed terrible weapons which he could wield with +deadly dexterity. Marking the confidence of his advance, Peddler grew +solicitous for his own champion, and stood motionless, dreading to +distract the bear's attention. + +But the bear, though frankly afraid to face man, whom he did not +understand, had no such misgivings in regard to moose. He knew how to +fight moose, and he had made more than one good meal, in his day, on +moose calf. He was game for the encounter. Reassured to see that the man +was not coming any nearer, and possibly even sensing instinctively that +the man was on his side in this matter, he crouched close against the +rock and waited, with one huge paw upraised, like a boxer on guard, for +the advancing bull to attack. + +He had not long to wait. + +The bull drew near very slowly, and with his head held high as if +intending to ignore his opponent. Peddler, watching intently, felt some +surprise at this attitude, even though he knew that the deadliest weapon +of a moose was its fore-hooves. He was wondering, indeed, if the +majestic beast expected to press past the bear without a battle, and if +the bear, on his part, would consent to this highly reasonable +arrangement. Then like a flash, without the slightest warning, the bull +whipped up one great hoof to the height of his shoulder and struck at +his crouching adversary. + +The blow was lightning swift, and with such power behind it that, had it +reached its mark, it would have settled the whole matter then and there. +But the bear's parry was equally swift. His mighty forearm fended the +stroke so that it hissed down harmlessly past his head and clattered on +the stone floor of the trail. At the same instant, before the bull could +recover himself for another such pile-driving blow, the bear, who had +been gathered up like a coiled spring, elongated his body with all the +force of his gigantic hindquarters, thrusting himself irresistibly +between his adversary and the face of the rock, and heaving outwards. + +These were tactics for which the great bull had no precedent in all his +previous battles. He was thrown off his balance and shouldered clean +over the brink. By a terrific effort he turned, captured a footing upon +the edge with his fore-hooves, and struggled frantically to drag himself +up again upon the ledge. But the bear's paw struck him a crashing +buffet straight between the wildly staring eyes. He fell backwards, +turning clean over, and went bouncing, in tremendous sprawling curves, +down into the abyss. + +Upon the defeat of their leader the two cows and the calf turned +instantly--which the ledge at this point was wide enough to permit--and +fled back down the trail at a pace which seemed to threaten their own +destruction. The bear followed more prudently, with no apparent thought +of trying to overtake them. And Peddler kept on behind him, taking care, +however, after this exhibition of his champion's powers, not to press +him too closely. + +The fleeing herd soon disappeared from view. It seemed to have +effectually cleared the trail before it, for the curious procession of +the bear and Peddler encountered no further obstacles. + +After about an hour the lower slopes of the mountain were reached. The +ledge widened and presently broke up, with trails leading off here and +there among the foothills. At the first of these that appeared to offer +concealment the bear turned aside and vanished into a dense grove of +spruce with a haste which seemed to Peddler highly amusing in a beast of +such capacity and courage. He was content, however, to be so easily quit +of his dangerous advance guard. + +"A durn good thing for me," he mused, "that that there b'ar never got up +the nerve to call my bluff, or I might 'a' been layin' now where that +unlucky old bull-moose is layin', with a lot o' flies crawlin' over me." + +And as he trudged along the now easy and ordinary trail, he registered +two discreet resolutions--first, that never again would he cross Old +Bald Face without his gun _and_ his axe; and second, that never again +would he cross Old Bald Face at all, unless he jolly well had to. + + + + +The Morning of the Silver Frost + + +All night the big buck rabbit--he was really a hare, but the +backwoodsman called him a rabbit--had been squatting on his form under +the dense branches of a young fir tree. The branches grew so low that +their tips touched the snow all round him, giving him almost perfect +shelter from the drift of the storm. The storm was one of icy rain, +which everywhere froze instantly as it fell. All night it had been busy +encasing the whole wilderness--every tree and bush and stump, and the +snow in every open meadow or patch of forest glade--in an armour of ice, +thick and hard and glassy clear. And the rabbit, crouching motionless, +save for an occasional forward thrust of his long, sensitive ears, had +slept in unwonted security, knowing that none of his night-prowling foes +would venture forth from their lairs on such a night. + +At dawn the rain stopped. The cold deepened to a still intensity. The +clouds lifted along the eastern horizon, and a thin, icy flood of +saffron and palest rose washed down across the glittering desolation. +The wilderness was ablaze on the instant with elusive tongues and points +of coloured light--jewelled flames, not of fire, but of frost. The world +had become a palace of crystal and opal, a dream-palace that would +vanish at a touch, a breath. And, indeed, had a wind arisen then to +breathe upon it roughly, the immeasurable crystal would have shattered +as swiftly as a dream, the too-rigid twigs and branches would have +snapped and clattered down in ruin. + +The rabbit came out from under his little ice-clad fir tree, and, for +all his caution, the brittle twigs broke about him as he emerged, and +tinkled round him sharply. The thin, light sound was so loud upon the +stillness that he gave a startled leap into the air, landing many feet +away from his refuge. He slipped and sprawled, recovered his foothold, +and stood quivering, his great, prominent eyes trying to look in every +direction at once, his ears questioning anxiously to and fro, his +nostrils twitching for any hint of danger. + +There was no sight, sound, or scent, however, to justify his alarm, and +in a few seconds, growing bolder, he remembered that he was hungry. +Close by he noticed the tips of a little birch sapling sticking up above +the snow. These birch-tips, in winter, were his favourite food. He +hopped toward them, going circumspectly over the slippery surface, and +sat up on his hindquarters to nibble at them. To his intense surprise +and disappointment, each twig and aromatic bud was sealed away, +inaccessible, though clearly visible, under a quarter inch of ice. Twig +after twig he investigated with his inquiring, sensitive cleft nostrils, +which met everywhere the same chill reception. Round and round the +tantalising branch he hopped, unable to make out the situation. At last, +thoroughly disgusted, he turned his back on the treacherous birch bush +and made for another, some fifty yards down the glade. + +As he reached it he stopped short, suddenly rigid, his head half turned +over his shoulder, every muscle gathered like a spring wound up to +extreme tension. His bulging eyes had caught a movement somewhere behind +him, beyond the clump of twigs which he had just left. Only for a second +did he remain thus rigid. Then the spring was loosed. With a frantic +bound he went over and through the top of the bush. The shattered and +scattered crystals rang sharply on the shining snow-crust. And he sped +away in panic terror among the silent trees. + +From behind the glassy twigs emerged another form, snow-white like the +fleeting rabbit, and fled in pursuit--not so swiftly, indeed, as the +rabbit--with an air of implacable purpose that made the quarry seem +already doomed. The pursuer was much smaller than his intended victim, +very low on the legs, long-bodied, slender, and sinuous, and he moved as +if all compacted of whipcord muscle. The grace of his long, deliberate +bounds was indescribable. His head was triangular in shape, the ears +small and close-set, the black-tipped muzzle sharply pointed, with the +thin, black lips upcurled to show the white fangs as if in a ferocious +but soundless snarl, and the eyes glowed red with blood-lust. Small as +it was, there was something terrible about the tiny beast, and its +pursuit seemed as inevitable as Fate. At each bound its steel-hard claws +scratched sharply on the crystal casing of the snow, and here and there +an icicle from a snapped twig went ringing silverly across the gleaming +surface. + +For perhaps fifty yards the weasel followed straight upon the rabbit's +track. Then he swerved to the right. He had lost sight of his quarry. +But he knew its habits in flight. He knew it would run in a circle, and +he took a chord of that circle, so as to head the fugitive off. He knew +he might have to repeat this manoeuvre several times, but he had no +doubts as to the result. In a second or two he also had disappeared +among the azure shadows and pink-and-saffron gleams of the ice-clad +forest. + +For several minutes the glade was empty, still as death, with the bitter +but delicate glories of the winter dawn flooding ever more radiantly +across it. On a sudden the rabbit appeared again, this time at the +opposite side of the glade. He was running irresolutely now, with little +aimless leaps to this side and to that, and his leaps were short and +lifeless, as if his nerve-power were getting paralysed. About the middle +of the glade he seemed to give up altogether, as if conquered by sheer +panic. He stopped, hesitated, wheeled round, and crouched flat upon the +naked snow, trembling violently, and staring, with eyes that started +from his head, at the point in the woods which he had just emerged from. + +A second later the grim pursuer appeared. He saw his victim awaiting +him, but he did not hurry his pace by a hair's-breadth. With the same +terrible deliberation he approached. Only his jaws opened, his long +fangs glistened bare; a blood-red globule of light glowed redder at the +back of his eyes. + +One more of those inexorable bounds, and he would have been at his +victim's throat. The rabbit screamed. + +At that instant, with a hissing sound, a dark shadow dropped out of the +air. It struck the rabbit. He was enveloped in a dreadful flapping of +wings. Iron talons, that clutched and bit like the jaws of a trap, +seized him by the back. He felt himself partly lifted from the snow. He +screamed again. But now he struggled convulsively, no longer submissive +to his doom, the hypnotic spell cast upon him by the weasel being broken +by the shock of the great hawk's unexpected attack. + +But the weasel was not of the stuff or temper to let his prey be +snatched thus from his jaws. Cruel and wanton assassin though he was, +ever rejoicing to kill for the lust of killing, long after his hunger +was satisfied, he had the courage of a wounded buffalo. A mere darting +sliver of white, he sprang straight into the blinding confusion of those +great wings. + +He secured a hold just under one wing, where the armour of feathers was +thinnest, and began to gnaw inwards with his keen fangs. With a +startled cry, the hawk freed her talons from the rabbit's back and +clutched frantically at her assailant. The rabbit, writhing out from +under the struggle, went leaping off into cover, bleeding copiously, but +carrying no fatal hurt. He had recovered his wits, and had no idle +curiosity as to how the battle between his enemies would turn out. + +The hawk, for all her great strength and the crushing superiority of her +weapons, had a serious disadvantage of position. The weasel, maintaining +his deadly grip and working inwards like a bull-dog, had hunched up his +lithe little body so that she could not reach it with her talons. She +tore furiously at his back with her rending beak, but the amazingly +tough, rubbery muscles resisted even that weapon to a certain degree. At +last, securing a grip with her beak upon her adversary's thigh, she +managed to pull the curled-up body out almost straight, and so secured a +grip upon it with one set of talons. + +That grip was crushing, irresistible, but it was too far back to be +immediately fatal. The weasel's lithe body lengthened out under the +agonising stress of it, but it could not pull his jaws from their grip. +They continued inexorably their task of gnawing inwards, ever inwards, +seeking a vital spot. + +The struggle went on in silence, as far as the voices of both combatants +were concerned. But the beating of the hawk's wings resounded on the +glassy-hard surface of the snow. As the struggle shifted ground, those +flapping wings came suddenly in contact with a bush, whose iced twigs +were brittle as glass and glittering like the prisms of a great crystal +candelabra. There was a shrill crash and a thin, ringing clatter as the +twigs shattered off and spun flying across the crust. + +The sound carried far through the still, iridescent spaces of the +wilderness. It reached the ears of a foraging fox, who was tip-toeing +with dainty care over the slippering crust. He turned hopefully to +investigate, trusting to get a needed breakfast out of some +fellow-marauder's difficulties. At the edge of the glade he paused, +peering through a bush of crystal fire to size up the situation before +committing himself to the venture. + +Desperately preoccupied though she was, the hawk's all-seeing eyes +detected the red outlines of the fox through the bush. With a frantic +beating of her wings she lifted herself from the snow. The fox darted +upon her with a lightning rush and a shattering of icicles. He was just +too late. The great bird was already in the air, carrying her deadly +burden with her. The fox leapt straight upwards, hoping to pull her +down, but his clashing jaws just failed to reach her talons. Labouring +heavily in her flight, she made off, striving to gain a tree-top where +she might perch and once more give her attention to the gnawing torment +which clung beneath her wing. + +The fox, being wise, and seeing that the hawk was in extremest straits, +ran on beneath her as she flew, gazing upwards expectantly. + +The weasel, meanwhile, with that deadly concentration of purpose which +characterises his tribe, paid no heed to the fact that he was journeying +through the air. And he knew nothing of what was going on below. His +flaming eyes were buried in his foe's feathers, his jaws were steadily +working inwards toward her vitals. + +Just at the edge of the glade, immediately over the top of a branchy +young paper-birch which shot a million coloured points of light in the +sunrise, the end came. The fangs of the weasel met in the hawk's wildly +throbbing heart. With a choking burst of scarlet blood it stopped. + +Stone dead, the great marauder of the air crashed down through the slim +birch-top, with a great scattering of gleams and crystals. With +wide-sprawled wings she thudded down upon the snow-crust, almost under +the fox's complacent jaws. The weasel's venomous head, covered with +blood, emerged triumphant from the mass of feathers. + +As the victor writhed free, the fox, pouncing upon him with a careless +air, seized him by the neck, snapped it neatly, and tossed the long, +limp body aside upon the snow. He had no use for the rank, stringy meat +of the weasel when better fare was at hand. Then he drew the hawk close +to the trunk of the young birch, and lay down to make a leisurely +breakfast. + + +THE END + +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + + + +The following pages contain advertisements of books by the same author +or on kindred subjects. + + +Neighbors Unknown + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "HOOF AND CLAW," ETC. + +_Decorated cloth, illustrated, 12mo, $1.50_ + +"Mr. Roberts knows his animals intimately and writes about them with +understanding and reality."--_The Continent._ + +"Whether viewed as stories, as natural history, or as literature, young +and old should lose no time in making the acquaintance of 'Neighbors +Unknown.'"--_N. Y. Times._ + +"Few stories about animals have as strong a power to interest and +entertain or carry as deep a conviction of their truth and +reasonableness as those by Charles G. D. Roberts, which comprise the +volume 'Neighbors Unknown.'"--_Chicago Tribune._ + +"What observation, what power of description is displayed in Charles G. +D. Roberts's latest volume of stories!"--_Bellman._ + + +Hoof and Claw + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "NEIGHBORS UNKNOWN," ETC. + +With illustrations by PAUL BRANSOM + +_Ill., decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.35_ + +"Whoever loves the wilderness and its furred and feathered inhabitants +is always glad to know of a new book by Charles G. D. Roberts, whose +knowledge and sympathy with wild things is profound, but who never falls +into that danger of humanizing his characters."--_Springfield +Republican._ + +"A great deal of keen observation has evidently gone into the making of +these tales ... city dwellers owe to this sort of book a debt which they +probably will never sufficiently pay, and that is to read +them."--_Chicago Evening Post._ + + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +THE BACKWOODSMEN + +_Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50_ + +Juvenile Library $.50 + +"'The Backwoodsmen' shows that the writer knows the backwoods as the +sailor knows the sea. Indeed, his various studies of wild life in +general, whether cast in the world of short sketch or story or +full-length narrative, have always secured an interested public.... Mr. +Roberts possesses a keen artistic sense which is especially marked when +he is rounding some story to its end. There is never a word too much, +and he invariably stops when the stop should be made.... Few writers +exhibit such entire sympathy with the nature of beasts and birds as +he."--_Boston Herald._ + +"When placed by the side of the popular novel, the strength of these +stories causes them to stand out like a huge primitive giant by the side +of a simpering society miss, and while the grace and beauty of the girl +may please the eye for a moment, it is to the rugged strength of the +primitive man your eyes will turn to glory in his power and simplicity. +In simple, forceful style Mr. Roberts takes the reader with him out into +the cold, dark woods, through blizzards, stalking game, encountering all +the dangers of the backwoodsmen's life, and enjoying the close contact +with Nature in all her moods. His descriptions are so vivid that you can +almost feel the tang of the frosty air, the biting sting of the snowy +sleet beating on your face, you can hear the crunch of the snow beneath +your feet, and when, after heartlessly exposing you to the elements, he +lets you wander into camp with the characters of the story, you stretch +out and bask in the warmth and cheer of the fire."--_Western Review._ + + +KINGS IN EXILE + +The Macmillan Fiction Library, Ill., 12mo, $.50 + +_Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50_ + +"More wonderful animal tales such as only Mr. Roberts can relate. With +accurate knowledge of the exiled beasts and a vivid imagination, +the author writes stories that are even more than usually +interesting."--_Book News Monthly._ + +"It is surprising how much of the wilderness his wistful eye discovers +in a Central Park buffalo yard. For this gift of vision the book will be +read, a vision with its reminder of the scent of dark forests of fir, +the awful and majestic loneliness of sky-towering peaks, the roar of the +breakers and salty smell of the sea, the whispering silences of the +forests. We rise from its pages with the breath of the open spaces in +our lungs."--_Boston Transcript._ + + +BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS + +AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "THE BACKWOODSMEN," ETC. + +Children of The Wild + +_With illustrations, cloth, 12 mo_, $1.35 + +As might be inferred from the title of Charles G. D. Roberts' new book, +"Children of the Wild," the reader is brought very close to nature. Mr. +Roberts has written many stories about the wild, all of which have the +atmosphere which few writers are able to breathe into their books--the +atmosphere of outdoor life told with the sure touch of a recognized +authority. Here he writes for boys particularly, still of the creatures +of the forests and streams, but with a boy as the central human figure. +Babe and his Uncle Andy and Bill, the guide, are camping in the +wilderness. What they see and hear there suggest stories about young +animals, the "children of the wild." These tales are recounted by Uncle +Andy. In them Mr. Roberts shows that he knows his fellowmen fully as +well as he knows the lore of the woods and the haunts and habits of the +animals of the forest. Into his stories creep snatches of humor, +glimpses of tragedy, and the poignant touch of pathos, all of which make +his work natural. The present work should prove a most acceptable +remembrance to every boy who cares, and what boy does not, for a hearty +book of outdoor life. + + +The Feet of the Furtive + +_Decorated cloth, 12mo_, $1.35 + +Illustrated by PAUL BRANSOM + +It is to be doubted whether there is a more popular animal writer to-day +than Charles G. D. Roberts, whose stories of forests and streams are +read with pleasure by young and old alike. In his present book are tales +of the bear, the bat, the seal, the moose, rabbit and other animals +written in his usual vivid style. + +"A great book for boys of all ages, and one that could have been written +only by Charles G. D. Roberts."--_Boston Times._ + + +JACK LONDON'S NEW BOOK + +The Turtles of Tasman + +_$1.25_ + +Here are brought together some of Mr. London's best short stories, +stories of adventure, of character, of unusual experiences in unusual +places. Here will be found _The Turtles of Tasman_, a tale of two +brothers as different in nature as it is possible for human beings to +be, and raising the old question as to which got the most out of life, +the one with possessions or the one with rich memories; here also _The +Eternity of Forms_, a mystery story dealing with a crime and its +expiation; here again _Told in the Drooling Ward_, a masterly bit of +writing which gives a human insight into the life of the inmates of a +home for feebleminded people. Among the other stories are noted _The +Hobo and the Fairy_, _The Prodigal Father_, _The First Poet_, _Finis_ +and _The End of the Story_. + + +Gold Must Be Tried by Fire + +BY RICHARD AUMERLE MAHER + +AUTHOR OF "THE SHEPHERD OF THE NORTH." + +From the opening chapter when Daidie Grattan revolts at the "eternal +grind," defiantly destroys a valuable piece of machinery in the factory +where she is employed, and runs out into the open, this story is brimful +of action and character. In _The Shepherd of the North_ Mr. Maher +demonstrated his ability to create tense situations. Here his skill is +once again seen and in addition he makes the reader acquainted with a +number of interesting people, not the least of whom are Daidie herself +and her ardent lover. + + +The Key to Betsy's Heart + +BY SARAH NOBLE IVES + +_Cloth, 12mo, $1.25_ + +This is the story of Betsy and her dog. Betsy is a little country girl +who, after her mother's death, is taken into the family of her Aunt +Kate, a wise and charming person whose duty it is to bring Betsy up +properly, while Betsy in turn has to bring up Van, a fox terrier. It is +the dog, of course, that proves to be the key to the shy girl's +heart--an extraordinarily nice "pup" whose education is carried on +simultaneously with Betsy's, only along different lines. Both as a dog +story and as a girl story _The Key to Betsy's Heart_ is eminently +satisfying, and it is safe to conjecture that there will be many little +girls in real life and a few elders, too, who will be delighted with it. + + +Pilot + +BY H. PLUNKETT GREEN + +Pilot is a roguish and cunning dog who is an inveterate poacher and has +a distinct sense of humor. He always gets the best of the gamekeepers +and other enemies and laughs in their faces. About him Mr. Green has +woven a thoroughly enjoyable--and humorous--story. In addition to this +the book includes a number of other tales, one or two dealing with +fairies, with real charm and imagination, and others having to do with +boys and fishing. + + +THE MACMILLAN COMPANY +Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Secret Trails, by Charles G. D. 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