rolf in the woods-第23章

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as　though　they　knew　perfectly　well　that　this　young　human　was

harmless；　entirely　without　the　power　of　the　far…killing　mystery。



How　intensely　Rolf　wished　for　a　gun。　　How　vividly　came　back　the

scene　in　the　trader's　store；　　when　last　month　he　had　been

offered　a　beautiful　rifle　for　twenty…five　dollars；　to　be　paid　for

in　fur　next　spring；　and　savagely　he　blamed　himself　for　not

realizing　what　a　chance　it　was。　　Then　and　there　he　made　resolve

to　be　the　owner　of　a　gun　as　soon　as　another　chance　came；　and　to

make　that　chance　come　right　soon。



One　little　victory　he　had　in　that　time。　　The　creature　that　had

torn　open　the　venison　bag　was　still　around　the　camp；　that　was

plain　by　the　further　damage　on　the　bag　hung　in　the　storehouse；

the　walls　of　which　were　not　chinked。　Mindful　of　Quonab's　remark；

he　set　two　marten　traps；　one　on　the　roof；　near　the　hole　that　had

been　used　as　entry；　the　other　on　a　log　along　which　the　creature

must　climb　to　reach　the　meat。　　The　method　of　setting　is　simple；　a

hollow　is　made；　large　enough　to　receive　the　trap　as　it　lies　open；

on　the　pan　of　the　trap　some　grass　is　laid　smoothly；　on　each　side

of　the　trap　a　piece　of　prickly　brush　is　placed；　so　that　in

leaping　over　these　the　creature　will　land　on　the　lurking　snare。

The　chain　was　made　fast　to　a　small　log。



Although　so　seldom　seen　there　is　no　doubt　that　the　marten　comes

out　chiefly　by　day。　　That　night　the　trap　remained　unsprung；　next

morning　as　Rolf　went　at　silent　dawn　to　bring　water　from　the　lake；

he　noticed　a　long；　dark　line　that　proved　to　be　ducks。　　As　he　sat

gazing　he　heard　a　sound　in　the　tree　beyond　the　cabin。　　It　was

like　the　scratching　of　a　squirrel　climbing　about。　　Then　he　saw

the　creature；　a　large；　dark　squirrel；　it　seemed。　　It　darted　up

this　tree　and　down　that；　over　logs　and　under　brush；　with　the

lightning　speed　of　a　lightning　squirrel；　and　from　time　to　time　it

stopped　still　as　a　bump　while　it　gazed　at　some　far　and　suspicious

object。　　Up　one　trunk　it　went　like　a　brown　flash；　and　a　moment

later；　out；　　cackling　from　its　top；　flew　two　partridges。　　Down　to

the　ground；　sinuous；　graceful；　incessantly　active　flashed　the

marten。　　Along　a　log　it　raced　in　undulating　leaps；　in　the　middle

it　stopped　as　though　frozen；　to　gaze　intently　into　a　bed　of

sedge；　with　three　billowy　bounds　its　sleek　form　reached　the

sedge；　flashed　in　and　out　again　with　a　mouse　in　its　snarling

jaws；　a　side　leap　now；　and　another　squeaker　was　squeakless；　and

another。　　The　three　were　slain；　then　thrown　aside；　as　the　brown

terror　scanned　a　flight　of　ducks　passing　over。　　Into　a　thicket　of

willow　it　disap…　peared　and　out　again　like　an　eel　going　through

the　mud；　then　up　a　tall　stub　where　woodpecker　holes　were　to　be

seen。　Into　the　largest　it　went　so　quickly　Rolf　could　scarcely　see

how　it　entered；　and　out　in　a　few　seconds　bearing　a　flying

squirrel　whose　skull　it　had　crushed。　　Dropping　the　squirrel　　it

leaped　after　it；　and　pounced　again　on　the　quivering　form　with　a

fearsome　growl；　then　shook　it　savagely；　tore　it　apart；　cast　it

aside。　　Over　the　ground　it　now　undulated；　its　shining　yellow

breast　like　a　target　of　gold。　　Again　it　stopped。　　Now　in　pose

like　a　pointer；　exquisitely　graceful；　but　oh；　so　wicked！　　Then

the　snaky　neck　swung　the　cobra　head　in　the　breeze　and　the　brown

one　sniffed　and　sniffed；　advanced　a　few　steps；　tried　the　wind　and

the　ground。　Still　farther　and　the　concentrated　interest　showed　in

its　outstretched　neck　and　quivering　tail。　　Bounding　into　a

thicket　it　went；　when　out　of　the　other　side　there　leaped　a

snowshoe　rabbit；　away　and　away　for　dear　life。　Jump；　jump；　jump；

twelve　feet　at　every　stride；　and　faster　than　the　eye　could

follow；　with　the　marten　close　behind。　　What　a　race　it　was；　and

how　they　twinkled　through　the　brush！　The　rabbit　is；　indeed；

faster；　but　courage　counts　for　much；　and　his　was　low；　but　luck

and　his　good　stars　urged　him　round　to　the　deer　trail　crossing　of

the　stream；　once　there　he　could　not　turn。　　There　was　only　one

course。　　He　sprang　into　the　open　river　and　swam　for　his　life。

And　the　marten　…　why　should　it　go　in？　　It　hated　the　water；　it　was

not　hungry；　it　was　out　for　sport；　and　water　sport　is　not　to　its

liking。　　It　braced　its　sinewy　legs　and　halted　at　the　very　brink；

while　bunny　crossed　to　the　safe　woods。



Back　now　came　Wahpestan；　the　brown　death；　over　the　logs　like　a

winged　snake；　skimming　the　ground　like　a　sinister　shadow；　and

heading　for　the　cabin　as　the　cabin's　owner　watched。　　Passing　the

body　of　the　squirrel　it　paused　to　rend　it　again；　then　diving　into

the　brush　came　out　so　far　away　and　so　soon　that　the　watcher

supposed　at　first　that　this　was　another　marten。　　Up　the　shanty

corner　it　flashed；　hardly　appearing　to　climb；　swung　that　yellow

throat　and　dark…brown　muzzle　for　a　second；　then　made　toward　the　entry。



Rolf　sat　with　staring　eyes　as　the　beautiful　demon；　elegantly

spurning　the　roof　sods；　went　at　easy；　measured　bounds　toward　the

open　chink　　toward　its　doom。　　One；　two；　three　　clearing　the

prickly　cedar　bush；　its　forefeet　fell　on　the　hidden　trap；　clutch；

a　savage　shriek；　a　flashing；　　a　struggle　baffling　the　eyes　to

follow；　and　the　master　of　the　squirrels　was　himself　under

mastery。



Rolf　rushed　forward　now。　　The　little　demon　in　the　trap　was

frothing　with　rage　and　hate；　it　ground　the　iron　with　its　teeth；

it　shrieked　at　the　human　foeman　coming。



The　scene　must　end；　the　quicker　the　better；　and　even　as　the

marten　itself　had　served　the　flying　squirrel　and　the　mice；　and　as

Quonab　served　the　mink；　so　Rolf　served　the　marten　and　the　woods

was　still。







Chapter　29。　Snowshoes



That's　for　Annette；〃　said　Rolf；　remembering　his　promise　as　he

hung　the　stretched　marten　skin　to　dry。



〃Yi！　　Yi！　　Yi！〃　came　three　yelps；　just　as　he　had　heard　them　the

day　he　first　met　Quonab；　and　crossing　the　narrow　lake　he　saw　his

partner's　canoe。



〃We　have　found　the　good　hunting；〃　he　said；　as　Rolf　steadied　the

canoe　at　the　landing　and　Skookum；　nearly　well　again；　wagged　his

entire　ulterior　person　to　welcome　the　wanderer　home。　　The　first

thing　to　catch　the　boy's　eye　was　a　great；　splendid　beaver　skin

stretched　on　a　willow　hoop。



〃Ho；　ho！〃　he　exclaimed。



〃Ugh；　found　another　pond。〃



〃Good；　good；〃　said　Rolf　as　he　stroked　the　flrst　beaver　skin　he

had　ever　seen　in　the　woods。



〃This　is　better；〃　said　Quonab；　and　held　up　the　two　barkstones；

castors；　or　smell…glands　that　are　found　in　every　beaver　and　which

for　some　hid　reason　have　an　irresistible　attraction　for　all　wild

animals。　　To　us　the　odour　is　slight；　but　they　have　the　power　of

intensifying；　perpetuating；　and　projecting　such　odorous

substances　as　may　be　mixed　with　them。　　No　trapper　considers　his

bait　to　be　perfect　without　a　little　of　the　mysterious　castor。　　So

that　that　most　　stenchable　thing　they　had　already　concocted　of

fish…oil；　　putrescence；　sewer…gas；　and　sunlight；　when　commingled

and　multiplied　with　the　dried…up　powder　of　a　castor；　was

intensified　into　a　rich；　rancid；　gas…exhaling　hell…broth　as

rapturously　bewitching　to　our　furry　brothers　as　it　is

poisonously　nauseating　to　ourselves　　seductive　afar　like　the

sweetest　music；　inexorable　as　fate；　insidious　as　laughing…gas；

soothing　and　numbing　as　absinthe　　this；　the　lure　and

caution…luller；　is　the　fellest　trick　in　all　the　trappers'　code。

As　deadly　as　inexplicable；　not　a　few　of　the　states　have　classed

it　with　black　magic　and　declared　its　use　a　crime。



But　no　such　sentiment　prevailed　in　the　high　hills　of　Quonab's

time；　and　their　preparations　for　a　successful　trapping　season

were　nearly　perfect。　　Thirty　deadfalls　made　by　Quonab；　with　the

sixty　made　on　the　first　trip　and　a　dozen　steel　traps；　were　surely

promise　of　a　good　haul。　　It　was　nearly　November　now；　the　fur　was

prime；　then　why　not　begin？　　Because　the　weather　was　too　fine。

You　must　have　frosty　weather　or　the　creatures　taken　in　the

deadfalls　are　spoiled　before　the　trapper　can　get　around。



Already　a　good；　big　pile　of　wood　was　cut；　both　sha