Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Silver Lake by R. M. Ballantyne (freda ebook reader .txt) 📖
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «Silver Lake by R. M. Ballantyne (freda ebook reader .txt) 📖». Author R. M. Ballantyne
They both got upon their knees at once, but, strive as he might, not a word would cross Roy’s lips for several minutes. Nelly raised her head and looked at him.
“God help us!” he ejaculated.
“For Jesus’ sake,” murmured Nelly.
They both said “Amen” to these words, and these were all their prayers.
Roy’s rebellion of heart was gone now, but his feelings were not yet calmed. He leaped up, and, raising his sister, kissed her almost violently.
“Now, lass, we have prayed, and I do believe that God will answer us; so I’ll take my gun and snow-shoes, an’ off to the woods to look for a deer. See that you have a roarin’ fire ready to roast him three hours hence.”
Nelly smiled through her tears and said she would, while Roy slipped his feet through the lines of his snow-shoes, threw his powder-horn and bullet-pouch over his shoulder, seized his gun, and sallied forth with a light step.
When he was gone, Nelly began actively to prepare for the fulfilment of her promise. She took up the axe which Roy had left behind him, and went into the forest behind the hut to cut firewood. She was very expert at this laborious work. Her blows were indeed light, for her little arms, although strong for their size, were not strong for such labour; but she knew exactly where to hit and how to hit. Every stroke fell on the right spot, with the axe at the right angle, so that a chip or two flew off every time. She panted a good deal, and grew uncommonly warm, but she liked the work; her face glowed and her eyes sparkled, and it was evident that she was not exhausted by it. In little more than an hour she had cut enough of dry wood to make a fire that would have roasted an entire sheep. Then she carried it to the hut, after which she sat down to rest a little.
While resting, she gathered carefully together all the scraps of food in the hut, and found that there was still enough for two good meals; so she ate a small piece of dried fish, and began to wish that Roy would return. Suddenly she was startled by a loud fluttering noise close to the hut, and went out to see what it could be.
It might be supposed that a little girl in such solitary and unprotected circumstances would have felt alarmed, and thought of wolves or bears; but Nelly was too well accustomed to the dangers and risks of the backwoods to be much troubled with mere fancies. She was well aware that wolves and bears, as a rule, shun the presence of human beings, and the noise which she had heard was not of a very alarming character.
The first sight that greeted her was a large bird of the grouse species, sitting on a tree not three yards from the hut. She almost felt that by springing forward she could seize it with her hands, and her first impulse was to throw the axe at it; but, checking herself, she went noiselessly back into the hut, and quickly reissued with the bow and a couple of arrows.
Fitting an arrow to the string, she whispered to herself, “Oh, how I do hope I won’t miss it!” and took a careful aim. Anxiety, however, made her hand unsteady, for, the next moment, the arrow was quivering in the stem of the tree at least three inches below the bird.
A look of deep disappointment was mingled with an expression of determination as she pursed her little mouth and fitted the second arrow to the string. This time she did not take so careful an aim, but let fly at once, and her shaft entered the bird’s throat and brought it to the ground. With a cry of delight she sprang upon her prize, and bore it in triumph into the hut, where she speedily plucked it. Then she split it open, and went down to the lake and washed it quite clean and spread it out flat. Her next proceeding was to cut a short stick, about two feet in length, which she pointed at both ends, making one point thinner than the other. This thin point she thrust through the bird, and stuck it up before the fire to roast, placing a small dish, made of birch bark, below it to catch the dripping.
“I hope he won’t come back till it’s ready,” she muttered, as the skin of the bird began to brown and frizzle, while a delicious odour began to fill the hut.
Just as the thought was uttered, a footstep was heard outside, the covering of the doorway was raised, a tall figure stooped to enter, and the next instant a gaunt and half-naked savage stood before her.
Nelly uttered a faint cry of terror, but she was so paralysed that she could make no effort to escape, even had escape been possible.
The appearance of the Indian was indeed calculated to strike terror to a stouter heart than that of poor Nelly; for besides being partially clad in torn garments, his eyes were sunken and bloodshot, and his whole person was more or less smeared with blood.
As the poor child gazed at this apparition in horror, the Indian said, “Ho!” by way of salutation, and stepping forward, took her hand gently and shook it after the manner of the white man. A gleam of intelligence and surprise at once removed the look of fear from Nelly’s face.
“Wapaw!” she exclaimed breathlessly.
“Ho!” replied the Indian, with a nod and a smile, as he laid aside his gun and snowshoes, and squatted himself down before the fire.
There was not much to be gathered from “ho!” but the nod and smile proved to Nelly that the intruder was indeed none other than her old friend Wapaw.
Her alarm being now removed, she perceived that the poor Indian was suffering both from fatigue and wounds—perhaps from hunger too; but this latter idea was discarded when she observed that several birds, similar to the one she had just killed, hung at the Indian’s belt. She rose up quickly, therefore, and, running down to the lake, soon returned with a can of clear water, with which she purposed bathing Wapaw’s wounds. Wapaw seized the can, however, and emptied the contents down his throat, so she was constrained to go for a second supply.
Having washed the wounds, which were chiefly on the head and appeared to her to be very severe, although, in reality, they were not so, she set the roasted bird before him and desired him to eat.
Of course she had put a great many questions to Wapaw while thus occupied. Her residence with the Indians had enabled her to speak and understand the Indian tongue a little, and, although she had some difficulty in understanding much of what Wapaw said in reply, she comprehended enough to let her know that a number of white men had been killed by the savages, and that Wapaw was fleeing for his life.
On first hearing this a deadly paleness overspread her face, for she imagined that the white people killed must be her own kindred; but Wapaw quickly relieved her mind on this point.
After this he devoted himself entirely to the roasted bird, and Nelly related to him, as well as she could, the particulars of her own and Roy’s escape from the Indians.
While they were thus occupied, a cry was heard to ring through the forest. The Indian laid his hand on his gun, raised his head, which he turned to one side in a listening attitude, and sat as still as a dark statue. The only motion that could be detected in the man was a slight action in his distended nostrils as he breathed gently.
This attitude was but momentary, however, for the cry was repeated (“Hi! Nelly, hi!”) in clear silvery tones, and Wapaw smiled as he recognised Roy’s voice, and quietly resumed his former occupation.
Nelly bounded up at once, and ran out to receive her brother, and tell him of the arrival of their old friend.
She slipped on her snow-shoes, and went off in the direction of the cry. On rounding the foot of a cliff she discovered Roy, standing as if he had been petrified, with his eyes glaring at the snow with a mingled look of surprise and alarm.
Nelly’s step roused him.
“Ho! Nell,” he cried, giving vent to a deep sigh of relief, “I’m thankful to see you—but look here. What snow-shoe made this track? I came on it just this moment, and it pulled me up slick, I can tell ye.”
Nelly at once removed Roy’s alarm, and increased his surprise by telling him of the new arrival, who, she said, was friendly, but she did not tell him that he was an old friend.
“But come, now, what have you got for dinner, Roy?” said Nelly, with an arch smile, “for oh! I’m so hungry.”
Roy’s countenance fell, and he looked like a convicted culprit.
“Nell, I haven’t got nothin’ at all.”
“What a pity! We must just go supperless to bed, I suppose.”
“Come, lass, I see by the twinkle in your eye that you’ve got grub somehow or other. Has the redskin brought some ’at with him?”
“Yes, he has brought a little; but the best fun is that I shot a bird myself, and had it all ready beautifully cooked for your supper, when Wap—”
“Well, what d’ye mean by Wap?” inquired Roy, as Nelly stopped short.
“Nothing. I only meant to say that the Indian arrived suddenly, and ate it all up.”
“The villain! Well, I’ll pay him off by eatin’ up some o’ his grub. Did he say what his name was, or where he came from?” inquired Roy.
“Never mind, you can ask him yourself,” said Nelly, as they drew near to the hut; “he seems to me to have been badly wounded by his enemies.”
They stooped and entered the hut as Nelly spoke. The Indian looked up at her brother, and, uttering his wonted “Ho!” held out his hand.
“Good luck to ye!” cried Roy, grasping it and shaking it with a feeling of hearty hospitality. “It’s good to see yer face, though it is a strange un; but—hallo!—I say—yer face ain’t so strange, after all!—what! Why, you’re not Wap— Wap— Wapaw!”
The Indian displayed all his teeth, which were very numerous and remarkably white, and nodded his head gently.
“Well now, that beats everything!” cried Roy, seizing the Indian’s hand again and shaking it violently; then, turning to Nelly, he said, “Come, Nell, stir yer stumps and pluck two o’ them birds. I’ll split ’em, an’ wash ’em, an’ roast ’em, an’ we’ll all eat ’em—Wapaw’ll be ready for more before it’s ready for him. Jump, now, and see if we don’t have a feast to-night, if we should starve to-morrow. But I say, Wapaw, don’t ye think the redskins may be after you yet?”
The first part of this speech was uttered in wild glee, but the last sentence was spoken more earnestly, as the thought occurred to him that Wapaw might have been closely pursued, for Nelly had told him of the Indian having been wounded by enemies and obliged to fly.
Wapaw shook his head, and made his young friend understand as well as he could that there was little chance of that, as he had travelled with the utmost speed in order to distance his pursuers, and induce them to give up the chase.
“Well, it may be as you say, friend,” observed Roy, as he sat down before the fire and pulled off his hunting mocassins and socks, which he replaced by lighter foot-gear more suited to the hut; “but I don’t much like the notion o’ givin’ them a chance to come up and cut all our throats at once. It’s not likely, however, that they’ll be here to-night, considerin’ the
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