Rolf In The Woods, Ernest Thompson Seton [warren buffett book recommendations TXT] 📗

Tree,  Was Vainly Protesting Against The

Intrusion And Volunteered To Make A Public Example Of The

Invader.  The Campers Did Not Finally Get Rid Of The Spiny One

Till All Their Kitchen Stuff Was Hung Beyond His Reach.

 

Once They Heard The Sharp,  Short Bark Of A Fox,  And Twice Or

Thrice The Soft,  Sweet,  Moaning Call Of The Gray Wolf Out To

Hunt.  Wild Fowl Abounded,  And Their Diet Was Varied By The Ducks

That One Or Other Of The Hunters Secured At Nearly Every Camp.

 

On The Second Day They Saw Three Deer,  And On The Third Morning

Quonab Loaded His Gun With Buckshot,  To Be Ready,  Then Sallied

Forth At Dawn.  Rolf Was Following,  But The Indian Shook His

Head,  Then Said: "Don't Make Fire For Half An Hour."

 

In Twenty Minutes Rolf Heard The Gun,  Then Later The Indian

Returned With A Haunch Of Venison,  And When They Left That Camp

They Stopped A Mile Up The River To Add The Rest Of The Venison

To Their Cargo.  Seven Other Deer Were Seen,  But No More Killed;

Yet Rolf Was Burning To Try His Hand As A Hunter.  Many Other

Opportunities He Had,  And Improved Some Of Them.  On One Wood

Portage He,  Or Rather Skookum,  Put Up A Number Of Ruffed Grouse.

These Perched In The Trees Above Their Heads And The Travellers

Stopped.  While The Dog Held Their Attention Rolf With Blunt

Arrows Knocked Over Five That Proved Most Acceptable As Food.

But His Thoughts Were Now On Deer,  And His Ambition Was To Go Out

Alone And Return With A Load Of Venison.

 

Another And More Thrilling Experience Followed Quickly. Rounding

A Bend In The Early Dawn They Sighted A Black Bear And Two Cubs

Rambling Along The Gravelly Bank And Stopping Now And Then To Eat

Something That Turned Out To Be Crayfish.

 

Quonab Had Not Seen A Bear Since Childhood,  When He And His

Father Hunted Along The Hardwood Ridges Back Of Myanos,  And Now

He Was Excited.  He Stopped Paddling,  Warned Rolf To Do The Same,

And Let The Canoe Drift Backward Until Out Of Sight; Then Made

For The Land. Quickly Tying Up The Canoe He Took His Gun And Rolf

His Hunting Arrows,  And,  Holding Skookum In A Leash,  They Dashed

Into The Woods.  Then,  Keeping Out Of Sight,  They Ran As Fast And

As Silently As Possible In The Direction Of The Bears.  Of

Course,  The Wind Was Toward The Hunters,  Or They Never Could Have

Got So Near.  Now They Were Opposite The Family Group And Needed

Only A Chance For A Fair Shot.  Sneaking Forward With The Utmost

Caution,  They Were Surely Within Twenty-Five Yards,  But Still The

Bushes Screened The Crab-Eaters.  As The Hunters Sneaked,  The Old

Bear Stopped And Sniffed Suspiciously; The Wind Changed,  She Got

An Unmistakable Whiff; Then Gave A Loud Warning "Koff! Koff!

Koff! Koff!" And Ran As Fast As She Could.  The Hunters Knowing

They Were Discovered Rushed Out,  Yelling As Loudly As Possible,

In Hopes Of Making The Bears Tree.  The Old Bear Ran Like A Horse

With Skookum Yapping Bravely In Her Rear.  The Young Ones,  Left

Behind,  Lost Sight Of Her,  And,  Utterly Bewildered By The Noise,

Made For A Tree Conveniently Near And Scrambled Up Into The

Branches.  "Now," Rolf Thought,  Judging By Certain Tales He Had

Heard,  "That Old Bear Will Come Back And There Will Be A Fight."

 

"Is She Coming Back?" He Asked Nervously.

 

The Indian Laughed.  "No,  She Is Running Yet.  Black Bear Always

A Coward; They Never Fight When They Can Run Away."

 

The Little Ones Up The Tree Were,  Of Course,  At The Mercy Of The

Hunters,  And In This Case It Was Not A Broken Straw They Depended

On,  But An Ample Salvation.  "We Don't Need The Meat And Can't

Carry It With Us; Let's Leave Them," Said Rolf,  But Added,  "Will

They Find Their Mother?"

 

"Yes,  Bime-By; They Come Down And Squall All Over Woods.  She

Will Hang Round Half A Mile Away And By Night All Will Be

Together."

 

Their First Bear Hunt Was Over.  Not A Shot Fired,  Not A Bear

Wounded,  Not A Mile Travelled,  And Not An Hour Lost.  And Yet It

Seemed Much More Full Of Interesting Thrills Than Did Any One Of

The Many Stirring Bear Hunts That Rolf And Quonab Shared Together

In The Days That Were To Come.

 

 

Chapter 19 (The Footprint On The Shore)

Jesup's River Was A Tranquil Stream That Came From A Region Of

Swamps,  And Would Have Been Easy Canoeing But For The Fallen

Trees.  Some Of These Had Been Cut Years Ago,  Showing That The

Old Trapper Had Used This Route.  Once They Were Unpleasantly

Surprised By Seeing A Fresh Chopping On The Bank,  But Their

Mourning Was Changed Into Joy When They Found It Was Beaver-Work.

 

Ten Miles They Made That Day.  In The Evening They Camped On The

Shore Of Jesup's Lake,  Proud And Happy In The Belief That They

Were The Rightful Owners Of It All. That Night They Heard Again

And Again The Howling Of Wolves,  But It Seemed On The Far Side Of

The Lake.  In The Morning They Went Out On Foot To Explore,  And

At Once Had The Joy Of Seeing Five Deer,  While Tracks Showed On

Every Side.  It Was Evidently A Paradise For Deer,  And There Were

In Less Degree The Tracks Of Other Animals -- Mink In Fair

Abundance,  One Or Two Otters,  A Mountain Lion,  And A Cow Moose

With Her Calf.  It Was Thrilling To See Such A Feast Of

Possibilities.  The Hunters Were Led On And On,  Revelling In The

Prospect Of Many Joys Before Them,  When All At Once They Came On

Something That Turned Their Joy To Grief -- The Track Of A Man;

The Fresh Imprint Of A Cowhide Boot.  It Was Maddening.  At First

Blush,  It Meant Some Other Trapper Ahead Of Them With A Prior

Claim To The Valley; A Claim That The Unwritten Law Would Allow.

They Followed It A Mile.  It Went Striding Along The Shore At A

Great Pace,  Sometimes Running,  And Keeping Down The West Shore.

Then They Found A Place Where He Had Sat Down And Broken A Lot Of

Clam Shells,  And Again Had Hastened On.  But There Was No Mark Of

Gunstock Or Other Weapon Where He Sat; And Why Was He Wearing

Boots? The Hunters Rarely Did.

 

For Two Miles The Indian Followed With Rolf,  And Sometimes Found

That The Hated Stranger Had Been Running Hard.  Then They Turned

Back,  Terribly Disappointed.  At First It Seemed A Crushing Blow.

They Had Three Courses Open To Them - To Seek A Location Farther

North,  To Assume That One Side Of The Lake Was Theirs,  Or To Find

Out Exactly Who And What The Stranger Was.  They Decided On The

Last. The Canoe Was Launched And Loaded,  And They Set Out To Look

For What They Hoped They Would Not Find,  A Trapper's Shanty On

The Lake.

 

After Skirting The Shore For Four Or Five Miles And Disturbing

One Or Two Deer,  As Well As Hosts Of Ducks,  The Voyagers Landed

And There Still They Found That Fateful Bootmark Steadily

Tramping Southward.  By Noon They Had Reached The South End Of

The West Inlet That Leads To Another Lake,  And Again An

Examination Of The Shore Showed The Footmarks,  Here Leaving The

Lake And Going Southerly. Now The Travellers Retired To The Main

Lake And By Noon Had Reached The South End.  At No Point Had They

Seen Any Sign Of A Cabin,  Though Both Sides Of The Lake Were In

Plain View All Day.  The Travelling Stranger Was A Mystery,  But

He Did Not Live Here And There Was No Good Reason Why They Should

Not Settle.

 

Where?  The Country Seemed Equally Good At All Points,  But It Is

Usually Best To Camp On An Outlet.  Then When A Storm Comes Up,

The Big Waves Do Not Threaten Your Canoe,  Or Compel You To Stay

On Land.  It Is A Favourite Crossing For Animals Avoiding The

Lake,  And Other Trappers Coming In Are Sure To See Your Cabin

Before They Enter.

 

Which Side Of The Outlet?  Quonab Settled That -- The West.  He

Wanted To See The Sun Rise,  And,  Not Far Back From The Water,  Was

A Hill With A Jutting,  Rocky Pinnade. He Pointed To This And

Uttered The One Word,  "Idaho." Here,  Then,  On The West Side,

Where The Lake Enters The River,  They Began To Clear The Ground

For Their Home.

 

 

 

Chapter 20 (The Footprint On The ShoreThe Trappers' Cabin)

It's A Smart Fellow That Knows What He Can't Do. -Sayings Of Si Sylvanne.

 

I Suppose Every Trapper That Ever Lived,  On First Building A

Cabin,  Said,  "Oh,  Any Little Thing Will Do,  So Long As It Has A

Roof And Is Big Enough To Lie Down In."  And Every Trapper Has

Realized Before Spring That He Made A Sad Mistake In Not Having

It Big Enough To Live In And Store Goods In.  Quonab And Rolf

Were New At The Business,  And Made The Usual Mistake. They

Planned Their Cabin Far Too Small; 10 X 12 Ft.,  Instead Of 12 X

20 Ft. They Made It,  And 6-Ft. Walls,  Instead Of 8-Ft. Walls.

Both Were Expert Axemen.  Spruce Was Plentiful And The Cabin Rose

Quickly.  In One Day The Walls Were Up. An Important Thing Was

The Roof.  What Should It Be? Overlapping Basswood Troughs,  Split

Shingles,  Also Called Shakes,  Or Clay?  By Far The Easiest To

Make,  The Warmest In Winter And Coolest In Summer,  Is The Clay

Roof.  It Has Three Disadvantages: It Leaks In Long-Continued Wet

Weather; It Drops Down Dust And Dirt In Dry Weather; And Is So

Heavy That It Usually Ends By Crushing In The Log Rafters And

Beams,  Unless They Are Further Supported On Posts,  Which Are Much

In The Way.  But Its Advantages Were So Obvious That The Builders

Did Not Hesitate.  A Clay Roof It Was To Be.

 

When The Walls Were Five Feet High,  The Doorway And Window Were

Cut Through The Logs,  But Leaving In Each Case One Half Of The

Log At The Bottom Of The Needed Opening. The Top Log Was Now

Placed,  Then Rolled Over Bottom Up,  Wlile Half Of Its Thickness

Was Cut Away To Fit Over The Door: A Similar Cut Out Was Made

Over The Window.  Two Flat Pieces Of Spruce Were Prepared For

Door Jambs And Two Shorter Ones For Window Jambs.  Auger Holes

Were Put Through,  So As To Allow An Oak Pin To Be Driven Through

The Jamb Into Each Log,  And The Doorway And Window Opening Were Done.

 

In One Corner They Planned A Small Fireplace,  Built Of Clay And

Stone.  Not Stone From The Lake,  As Rolf Would Have Had It,  But

From The Hillside; And Why?  Quonab Said That The Lake Stone Was

Of The Water Spirits,  And Would Not Live Near Fire,  But Would

Burst Open; While The Hillside Stone Was Of The Sun And Fire

Spirit,  And In The Fire Would Add Its Heat.

 

The Facts Are That Lake Stone Explodes When Greatly Heated And

Hill Stone Does Not; And Since No One Has Been Able To Improve

Upon Quonab's Explanation,  It Must Stand For The Present.

 

The Plan Of The Fireplace Was Simple.  Rolf Had Been Present At

The Building Of Several,  And The Main Point Was