rolf in the woods-第33章

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true。　　They　could　have　killed　many　deer　in　early　winter；　when　the

venison　was　in　fine　condition；　but　they　had　no　place　to　store　it。

Now　they　must　get　it　as　they　could；　and　of　course　it　was　thinner

and　poorer　every　week。



They　were　on　a　high　hill　some　days　later。　　There　was　a　clear　view

and　they　noticed　several　ravens　circling　and　swooping。



〃Maybe　dead　deer；　maybe　deer　yard；〃　said　the　Indian。



It　was　over　a　thick；　sheltered；　and　extensive　cedar　swamp　near

the　woods　where　last　year　they　had　seen　so　many　deer；　and　they

were　not　surprised　to　find　deer　tracks　in　numbers；　as　soon　as

they　got　into　its　dense　thicket。



A　deer　yard　is　commonly　supposed　to　be　a　place　in　which　the　deer

have　a　daily　〃bee〃　at　road　work　all　winter　long　and　deliberately

keep　the　snow　hammered　down　so　they　can　run　on　a　hard　surface

everywhere　within　its　limits。　　The　fact　is；　the　deer　gather　in　a

place　where　there　is　plenty　of　food　and　good　shelter。　　The　snow

does　not　drift　here；　so　the　deer；　by　continually　moving　about；

soon　make　a　network　of　tracks　in　all　directions；　extending　them

as　they　must　to　seek　more　food。　　They　may；　of　course；　leave　the

yard　at　any　time；　but　at　once　they　encounter　the　dreaded　obstacle

of　deep；　soft　snow　in　which　they　are　helpless。



Once　they　reached　the　well…worn　trails；　the　hunters　took　off

their　snowshoes　and　went　gently　on　these　deer　paths。　They　saw　one

or　two　disappearing　forms；　which　taught　them　the　thick　cover　was

hiding　many　more。　　They　made　for　the　sound　of　the　ravens；　and

found　that　the　feast　of　the　sable　birds　was　not　a　deer　but　the

bodies　of　three；　quite　recently　killed。



Quonab　made　a　hasty　study　of　the　signs　and　said；　〃Panther。〃



Yes；　a　panther；　cougar；　or　mountain　lion　also　had　found　the　deer

yard；　and　here　he　was　living；　like　a　rat　in　a　grocer　shop　with

nothing　to　do　but　help　himself　whenever　he　felt　like　feasting。



Pleasant　for　the　panther；　but　hard　on　the　deer；　for　the　killer　is

wasteful　and　will　often　kill　for　the　joy　of　murder。



Not　a　quarter　of　the　carcasses　lying　here　did　he　eat；　he　was

feeding　at　least　a　score　of　ravens；　and　maybe　foxes；　martens；　and

lynxes　as　well。



Before　killing　a　deer；　Quonab　thought　it　well　to　take　a　quiet

prowl　around　in　hopes　of　seeing　the　panther。　　Skookum　was　turned

loose　and　encouraged　to　display　his　talents。



Proud　as　a　general　with　an　ample　and　obedient　following；　he

dashed　ahead；　carrying　fresh　dismay　among　the　deer；　if　one　might

judge　from　the　noise。　　Then　he　found　some　new　smell　of

excitement；　and　voiced　the　new　thrill　in　a　new　sound；　one　not

unmixed　with　fear。　　At　length　his　barking　was　far　away　to　the

west　in　a　rocky　part　of　the　woods。　　Whatever　the　prey；　it　was

treed；　for　the　voice　kept　one　place。



The　hunters　followed　quickly　and　found　the　dog　yapping　　furiously

under　a　thick　cedar。　　The　first　thought　was　of　porcupine；　but　a

nearer　view　showed　the　game　to　be　a　huge　panther　on　the　ground；

not　greatly　excited；　　disdaining　to　climb；　and　taking　little

notice　of　the　dog；　　except　to　curl　his　nose　and　utter　a　hissing

kind　of　snarl　when　the　latter　came　too　near。



But　the　arrival　of　the　hunters　gave　a　new　colour　to　the　picture。

The　panther　raised　his　head；　then　sprang　up　a　large　tree　and

ensconced　himself　on　a　fork；　while　the　valorous　　Skookum　reared

against　the　trunk；　threatening　loudly　to　come　up　and　tear　him　to

pieces。



This　was　a　rare　find　and　a　noble　chance　to　conserve　their　stock

of　deer；　so　the　hunters　went　around　the　tree　seeking　for　a　fair

shot。　　But　every　point　of　view　had　some　serious　obstacle。　　It

seemed　as　though　the　branches　had　been　told　off　to　guard　the

panther's　vitals；　for　a　big　one　always　stood　in　the　bullet's　way。



After　vainly　going　around；　Quonab　said　to　Rolf：　〃Hit　him　with

something；　so　he'll　move。〃



Rolf　always　was　a　good　shot　with　stones；　but　he　found　none　to

throw。　　Near　where　they　stood；　however；　was　an　unfreezing　spring；

and　the　soggy　snow　on　it　was　easily　packed　into　a　hard；　heavy

snowball。　　Rolf　threw　it　straight；　swift；　and　by　good　luck　it　hit

the　panther　square　on　the　nose　and　startled　him　so　that　he　sprang

right　out　of　the　tree　and　flopped　into　the　snow。



Skookum　was　on　him　at　once；　but　got　a　slap　on　the　ear　that

changed　his　music；　and　the　panther　bounded　away　out　of　sight　with

the　valiant　Skookum　ten　feet　behind；　whooping　and　yelling　like

mad。



It　was　annoyance　rather　than　fear　that　made　that　　panther　take　to

a　low　tree　while　Skookum　boxed　the　compass；　and　made　a　beaten　dog

path　all　around　him。　　The　hunters　approached　very　carefully　now；

making　little　sound　and　keeping　out　of　sight。　　The　panther　was

wholly　engrossed　with　observing　the　astonishing　impudence　of　that

dog；　when　Quonab　came　quietly　up；　leaned　his　rifle　against　a　tree

and　fired。　　The　smoke　cleared　to　show　the　panther　on　his　back；

his　legs　convulsively　waving　in　the　air；　and　Skookum　tugging

valiantly　at　his　tail。



〃My　panther；〃　he　seemed　to　say；　〃whatever　would　you　do　without　me？〃



A　panther　in　a　deer　yard　is　much　like　a　wolf　shut　up　in　a

sheepfold。　　He　would　probably　have　killed　all　the　deer　that

winter；　though　there　were　ten　times　as　many　as　he　needed　for

food；　and　getting　rid　of　him　was　a　piece　of　good　luck　for　hunters

and　deer；　while　his　superb　hide　made　a　noble　trophy　that　in　years

to　come　had　unexpected　places　of　honour。







Chapter　43。　Sunday　in　the　Woods



Rolf　still　kept　to　the　tradition　of　Sunday；　and　Quonab　had　in　a

manner　accepted　it。　　It　was　a　curious　fact　that　the　red　man　had

far　more　toleration　for　the　white　man's　religious　ideas　than　the

white　man　had　for　the　red's。




Quonab's　songs　to　the　sun　and　the　spirit；　or　his　burning　of　a

tobacco　pinch；　or　an　animal's　whiskers　were　to　Rolf　but　harmless

nonsense。　　Had　he　given　them　other　names；　calling　them　hymns　and

incense；　he　would　have　been　much　nearer　respecting　them。　　He　had

forgotten　his　mother's　teaching：　〃If　any　man　do　anything

sincerely；　believing　that　thereby　he　is　worshipping　God；　he　is

worshipping　God。〃　He　disliked　seeing　Quonab　use　an　axe　or　a　gun

on　Sunday；　and　the　Indian；　realizing　that　such　action　made　〃evil

medicine〃　　for　Rolf；　practically　abstained。　　But　Rolf　had　not　yet

learned　to　respect　the　red　yarns　the　Indian　hung　from　a　deer's

skull；　though　he　did　come　to　understand　that　he　must　let　them

alone　or　produce　bad　feeling　in　camp。



Sunday　had　become　a　day　of　rest　and　Quonab　made　it　also　a　day　of

song　and　remembrance。



They　were　sitting　one　Sunday　night　by　the　fire　in　the　cabin；

enjoying　the　blaze；　while　a　storm　rattled　on　the　window　and　door。

A　white…footed　mouse；　one　of　a　family　that　lived　in　the　shanty；

was　trying　how　close　he　could　come　to　Skookum's　nose　without

being　caught；　while　Rolf　looked　on。　　Quonab　was　lying　back　on　a

pile　of　deer　skins；　with　his　pipe　in　his　mouth；　his　head　on　the

bunk；　and　his　hands　clasped　back　of　his　neck。



There　was　an　atmosphere　of　content　and　brotherly　feeling；　the

evening　was　young；　when　Rolf　broke　silence：



〃Were　you　ever　married；　Quonab？〃



〃Ugh；〃　was　the　Indian's　affirmative。



〃Where？〃



〃Myanos。〃



Rolf　did　not　venture　more　questions；　but　left　the　　influence　of

the　hour　to　work。　　It　was　a　moment　of　delicate　poise；　and　Rolf

knew　a　touch　would　open　the　door　or　double　bar　it。　　He　wondered

how　he　might　give　that　touch　as　he　wished　it。　　Skookum　still

slept。　　Both　men　watched　the　mouse；　as；　with　quick　movements　it

crept　about。　Presently　it　approached　a　long　birch　stick　that

stood　up　against　the　wall。　　High　hanging　was　the　song…drum。　　Rolf

wished　Quonab　would　take　it　and　let　it　open　his　heart；　but　he

dared　not　offer　it；　that　might　have　the　exact　wrong　effect。　　Now

the　mouse　was　behind　the　birch　stick。　　Then　Rolf　noticed　that　the

stick　if　it　were　to　fall　would　strike　a　drying　line；　one　end　of

which　was　on　the　song…drum　peg。　So　he　made　a　dash　at　the　mouse

and　displaced　the　stick；　the　jerk　it　gave　the　line　sen