Rolf In The Woods by Ernest Thompson Seton (most popular ebook readers .txt) 📖
- Author: Ernest Thompson Seton
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Buck, Already Spent, Reared, Wheeled, And Fell. Before He Could
Recover Skookum Pounced Upon Him By The Nose And Hung On Like A
Vice. The Buck Could Swing His Great Neck A Little, And Drag The
Dog, But He Could Not Shake Him Off. Rolf Saw The Chance, Rose
To His Tottering Legs, Seized His Hatchet, Stunned The Fierce
Brute With A Blow. Then Finding On The Snow His Missing Knife He
Gave The Hunter Stroke That Spilled The Red Life-Blood And Sank
On The Ground To Know No More Till Quonab Stood Beside Him.
Chapter 33 (A Song Of Praise)
Rolf Was Lying By A Fire When He Came To, Quonab Bending Over Him
With A Look Of Grave Concern. When He Opened His Eyes, The Indian
Smiled; Such A Soft, Sweet Smile, With Long, Ivory Rows In Its
Background.
Then He Brought Hot Tea, And Rolf Revived So He Could Sit Up And
Tell The Story Of The Morning.
"He Is An Evil Manito," And He Looked Toward The Dead Buck; "We
Must Not Eat Him. You Surely Made Medicine To Bring Skookum."
"Yes, I Made Medicine With My Mouth," Was The Answer, "I Called,
I Yelled, When He Came At Me."
"It Is A Long Way From Here To The Cabin," Was Quonab's Reply.
"I Could Not Hear You; Skookum Could Not Hear You; But Cos Cob,
My Father, Told Me That When You Send Out A Cry For Help, You
Send Medicine, Too, That Goes Farther Than The Cry. May Be So; I
Do Not Know: My Father Was Very Wise."
"Did You See Skookum Come, Quonab? "
"No; He Was With Me Hours After You Left, But He Was Restless And
Whimpered. Then He Left Me And It Was A Long Time Before I Heard
Him Bark. It Was The 'Something- Wrong' Bark. I Went. He
Brought Me Here."
"He Must Have Followed My Track All 'Round The Line."
After An Hour They Set Out For The Cabin. The Ravens "Ha-Ha-Ed"
And "Ho-Ho-Ed" As They Went. Quonab Took The Fateful Horn That
Rolf Had Chopped Off, And Hung It On A Sapling With A Piece Of
Tobacco And A Red Yam Streamer ', To Appease The Evil Spirit
That Surely Was Near. There It Hung For Years After, Until The
Sapling Grew To A Tree That Swallowed The Horn, All But The Tip,
Which Rotted Away.
Skookum Took A Final Sniff At His Fallen Enemy, Gave The Body The
Customary Expression Of A Dog's Contempt, Then Led The Procession
Homeward.
Not That Day, Not The Next, But On The First Day Of Calm, Red,
Sunset Sky, Went Quonab To His Hill Of Worship; And When The
Little Fire That He Lit Sent Up Its Thread Of Smoke, Like A
Plumb-Line From The Red Cloud Over Bim, He Burnt A Pinch Of
Tobacco, And, With Face And Arms Upraised In The Red Light, He
Sang A New Song:
"The Evil One Set A Trap For My Son, But The Manito Saved Him; In
The Form Of A Skookum He Saved Him."
Chapter 34 (The Birch-Bark Vessels)
Rolf Was Sore And Stiff For A Week Afterward; So Was Skookum.
There Were Times When Quonab Was Cold, Moody, And Silent For
Days. Then Some Milder Wind Would Blow In The Region Of His
Heart And The Bleak Ice Surface Melted Into Running Rills Of
Memory Or Kindly Emanation.
Just Before The Buck Adventure, There Had Been An Unpleasant
Time Of Chill And Aloofness. It Arose Over Little. Since The
Frost Had Come, Sealing The Waters Outside, Quonab Would Wash His
Hands In The Vessel That Was Also The Bread Pan. Rolf Had New
England Ideas Of Propriety In Cooking Matters, And Finally He
Forgot The Respect Due To Age And Experience. That Was One
Reason Why He Went Out Alone That Day. Now, With Time To Think
Things Over, The Obvious Safeguard Would Be To Have A Wash Bowl;
But Where To Get It? In Those Days, Tins Were Scarce And Ex-
Pensive. It Was The Custom To Look In The Woods For Nearly All
The Necessaries Of Life; And, Guided By Ancient Custom And
Experience, They Seldom Looked In Vain. Rolf Had Seen, And
Indeed Made, Watering Troughs, Pig Troughs, Sap Troughs, Hen
Troughs, Etc., All His Life, And He Now Set To Work With The Axe
And A Block Of Basswood To Hew Out A Trough For A Wash Bowl.
With Adequate Tools He Might Have Made A Good One; But, Working
With An Axe And A Stiff Arm, The Result Was A Very Heavy, Crude
Affair. It Would Indeed Hold Water, But It Was Almost Impossible
To Dip It Into The Water Hole, So That A Dipper Was Needed.
When Quonab Saw The Plan And The Result, He Said: "In My Father's
Lodge We Had Only Birch Bark. See; I Shall Make A Bowl." He Took
From The Storehouse A Big Roll Of Birch Bark, Gathered In Warm
Weather (It Can Scarcely Be Done In Cold), For Use In Repairing
The Canoe. Selecting A Good Part He Cut Out A Square, Two Feet
Each Way, And Put It In The Big Pot Which Was Full Of Boiling
Water. At The Same Time He Soaked With It A Bundle Of Wattap, Or
Long Fibrous Roots Of The White Spruce, Also Gathered Before The
Frost Came, With A View To Canoe Repairs In The Spring.
While These Were Softening In The Hot Water, He Cut A Couple Of
Long Splints Of Birch, As Nearly As Possible Half An Inch Wide
And An Eighth Of An Inch Thick, And Put Them To Steep With The
Bark. Next He Made Two Or Three Straddle Pins Or Clamps, Like
Clothes Pegs, By Splitting The Ends Of Some Sticks Which Had A
Knot At One End.
Now He Took Out The Spruce Roots, Soft And Pliant, And Selecting
A Lot That Were About An Eighth Of An Inch In Diameter, Scraped
Off The Bark And Roughness, Until He Had A Bundle Of Perhaps Ten
Feet Of Soft, Even, White Cords.
The Bark Was Laid Flat And Cut As Below.
The Rounding Of A And B Is Necessary, For The Holes Of The Sewing
Would Tear The Piece Off If All Were On The Same Line Of Grain.
Each Corner Was Now Folded And Doubled On Itself (C), Then Held
So With A Straddle Pin (D). The Rim Was Trimmed So As To Be Flat
Where It Crossed The Fibre Of The Bark, And Arched Where It Ran
Along. The Pliant Rods Of Birch Were Bent Around This, And Using
The Large Awl To Make Holes, Quonab Sewed The Rim Rods To The
Bark With An Over-Lapping Stitch That Made A Smooth Finish To The
Edge, And The Birch-Bark Wash Pan Was Complete. (E.) Much Heavier
Bark Can Be Used If The Plan F G Be Followed, But It Is Hard To
Make It Water-Tight.
So Now They Had A Wash Pan And A Cause Of Friction Was Removed.
Rolf Found It Amusing As Well As Useful To Make Other Bark
Vessels Of Varying Sizes For Dippers And Dunnage. It Was Work
That He Could Do Now While He Was Resting And Recovering And He
Became Expert. After Watching A Fairly Successful Attempt At A
Box To Hold Fish-Hooks And Tackle, Quonab Said: "In My Father's
Lodge These Would Bear Quill Work In Colours."
"That's So," Said Rolf, Remembering The Birch-Bark Goods Often
Sold By The Indians. "I Wish We Had A Porcupine Now."
"Maybe Skookum Could Find One," Said The Indian, With A Smile.
"Will You Let Me Kill The Next Kahk We Find?"
"Yes, If You Use The Quills And Burn Its Whiskers."
"Why Burn Its Whiskers?"
"My Father Said It Must Be So. The Smoke Goes Straight To The
All-Above; Then The Manito Knows We Have Killed, But We Have
Remembered To Kill Only For Use And To Thank Him."
It Was Some Days Before They Found A Porcupine, And When They
Did, It Was Not Necessary For Them To Kill It. But That Belongs
To Another Chapter.
They Saved Its Skin With All Its Spears And Hung It In The
Storehouse. The Quills With The White Bodies And Ready- Made
Needle At Each End Are Admirable For Embroidering, But They Are
White Only.
"How Can We Dye Them, Quonab?
"In The Summer Are Many Dyes; In Winter They Are Hard To Get. We
Can Get Some."
So Forth He Went To A Hemlock Tree, And Cut Till He Could Gather
The Inner Pink Bark, Which, Boiled With The Quills, Turned Them A
Dull Pink; Similarly, Alder Bark Furnished Rich Orange, And
Butternut Bark A Brown. Oak Chips, With A Few Bits Of Iron In
The Pot, Dyed Black.
"Must Wait Till Summer For Red And Green," Said The Indian. "Red
Comes Only From Berries; The Best Is The Blitum. We Call It
Squaw-Berry And Mis-Caw-Wa, Yellow Comes From The Yellow Root
(Hydrastis).
But Black, White, Orange, Pink, Brown, And A Dull Red Made By A
Double Dip Of Orange And Pink, Are A Good Range Of Colour. The
Method In Using The Quills Is Simple. An Awl To Make Holes In
The Bark For Each; The Rough Parts Behind Are Concealed Afterward
With A Lining Of Bark Stitched Over Them; And Before The Winter
Was Over, Rolf Had Made A Birch-Bark Box, Decorated Lid And All,
With Por- Cupine Quill Work, In Which He Kept The Sable Skin That
Was Meant To Buy Annette's New Dress, The Costume She Had Dreamed
Of, The Ideal And Splendid, Almost Unbelievable Vision Of Her
Young Life, Ninety-Five Cents' Worth Of Cotton Print.
There Was One Other Point Of Dangerous Friction. Whenever It
Fell To Quonab To Wash The Dishes, He Simply Set Them On The
Ground And Let Skookum Lick Them Off. This Economical
Arrangement Was Satisfactory To Quonab, Delightful To Skookum,
And Apparently Justified By The Finished Product, But Rolf
Objected. The Indian Said: "Don't He Eat The Same Food As We Do?
You Cannot Tell If You Do Not See."
Whenever He Could Do So, Rolf Washed The Doubtful Dishes Over
Again, Yet There Were Many Times When This Was Impossible, And
The Situation Became Very Irritating. But He Knew That The Man
Who Loses His Temper Has Lost The First Round Of The Fight, So,
Finding The General Idea Of Uncleanness Without Avail, He Sought
For Some Purely Indian Argument. As They Sat By The Evening Fire,
One Day, He Led Up To Talk Of His Mother -- Of Her Power As A
Medicine Woman, Of The Many Evil Medicines That Harmed Her. "It
Was Evil Medicine For Her If A Dog Licked Her Hand Or Touched
Her Food. A Dog Licked Her Hand And The Dream Dog Came To Her
Three Days Before She Died." After A Long Pause, He Added, "In
Some Ways I Am Like My Mother."
Two Days Later, Rolf Chanced To See His Friend Behind The Shanty
Give Skookum The Pan To Clean Off After They Had Been Frying Deer
Fat. The Indian Had No Idea That Rolf Was Near, Nor Did He Ever
Learn The Truth Of It.
That Night, After Midnight, The Lad Rose Quietly, Lighted The
Pine Splints That Served Them For A Torch, Rubbed Some Charcoal
Around Each Eye To Make Dark Rings That Should Supply A
Horror-Stricken Look. Then He Started In To Pound On Quonab's
Tom-Tom, Singing:
"Evil Spirit Leave Me;
Dog-Face Do Not Harm
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