menu_book Chapter 16

chapter sixteen of ebon holden this librivox recording is in the public domain recording by roger m'leene ebon holden a tale of the north country by irving batchelor chapter sixteen i remember how hopefully we started that morning with elizabeth brower and hope waving their handkerchiefs on the porch and david near them whittling they had told us what to do and what not to do over and over again i sat with gerald on blankets that were spread over a thick mat of hay the morning air was sweet with the odour of new hay and the music of the bobolink uncle eb and tip taylor sang merrily as we rode over the hills when we entered the shade of the big forest uncle eb got out his rifle and loaded it he sat a long time whispering and looking eagerly for game to right and left he was still a boy one could see evidences of age only in his white hair and beard and wrinkled brow

he retained the little tufts in front of his ears and lately had grown a silver crescent of thin and silky hair that circled his throat under a bare chin young as i was i had no keener relish for a holiday than he at noon we halted beside a brook and unhitched our horses then we caught some fish built a fire and cooked them and brewed our tea at sunset we halted at tule pond looking along its reedy margin under purple tamaracks for deer there was a great silence here in the deep of the woods and tip taylor's axe while he peeled the bark for our camp seemed to fill the wilderness with echoes it was after dark when the shanty was covered and we lay on its fragrant mow of balsam and hemlock the great logs that we had rolled in front of our shanty were set afire and shortly supper was cooking gerald had stood the journey well uncle eb and he stayed in while tip and i got our jack ready and went off in quest of a dugout he said bill ellsworth had one hid in a thicket on the south side of tule

we found it after an hour's tramp near by it needed a little repairing but we soon made it water worthy and then took our seats he in the stern with the paddle and i in the bow with the gun slowly and silently we clove away through the star-sown shadows it was like the hushed and mystic movement of a dream we seemed to be above the deep of heaven the stars below us the shadow of the forest in the still water looked like the wall of some mighty castle with towers and battlements and myriads of windows lighted for a feat once the groan of a nighthawk fell out of the upper air with a sound like that of a stone striking in water i thought little of the deer tip was after his only aim in life was the one he got with a gun barrel i had forgotten all but the beauty of the scene suddenly tip roused me by laying his hand to the gunwale and gently shaking the dugout in the dark distance ahead of us i could hear the faint tinkle of dripping water

then i knew a deer was feeding not far away and that the water was falling from his muzzle when i opened my jack we were close upon him his eyes gleamed i shot high above the deer that went splashing ashore before i had pulled my trigger after the roar of the gun had got away in the distant timber tip mentioned a place abhorred of all men turned and paddled for the landing could ha killed him with a club said he snickering guess he must ha looked pretty tall didn't he why i asked cause yuh aimed into the sky said he mebbe yuh thought he was a bird my hand trembled a little said i mind me of bill barber he said in a half whisper as he worked his paddle chuckling with amusement how's that i asked nothin safe but the things he shoots at said he terrible bad shot kills a cow every time he goes huntin uncle eb was stirring the fire when we came whispering into camp and gerald lay asleep under the blankets willie couldn't hit the broad side of a barn said tip he don't take to it natch'ral killin an book-learnin don't often go together said uncle eb

i turned in by the side of gerald and uncle eb went off with tip for another trip in the dugout the night was chilly but the fire flooded our shanty with its warm glow what with the light and the boughs under us and the strangeness of the black forest we got little sleep i heard the gun roar late in the night and when i woke again uncle eb and tip taylor were standing over the fire in the chilly gray of the morning a dead deer hung on the limb of a tree near by they began dressing it while gerald and i went to the spring for water peeled potatoes and got the pots boiling after a hearty breakfast we packed up and were soon on the road again reaching blueberry lake before noon there we hired a boat of the lonely keeper of the reservoir found an abandoned camp with an excellent bark shanty and made ourselves at home that evening in camp was one to be remembered aunt thomas the guide who tended the reservoir came over and sat beside our fire until bedtime he had spent years in the wilderness going out for nothing less important than an annual spree at circus time

he eyed us over each in turn as if he thought us all very rare and interesting many bears here uncle eb inquired more plenty in human bein's he answered puffing lazily at his pipe with a dead calm in his voice and manner that i have never seen equaled except in a tropic sea see em often i asked he emptied his pipe striking it on his palm until the bowl rang without answering then he blew into the stem with great violence three or four in a summer maybe he said at length ever git sassy uncle eb asked he whipped a coal out of the ashes then and lifted it in his fingers to the bowl of his pipe never real sassy he said between vigorous puffs one stole a ham off my piazza last summer al fyfield brought it in for me one day smelt good too i kep savin it as thinkin i'd enjoy it all the more when i did have it

one day i went off cuttin timber an stayed till most night comin home i got to thinkin o that ham an made up my mind i'd have some fer supper the more i thought of it the faster i hurried an when i got home i was hungrier an i'd been fer a year when i see the old bear's tracks an the empty peg where the ham had hung i went to work an got mad then i started after that bear tracked him over yonder up cat mountain here ab paused he had a way of stopping always at the most interesting point to puff at his pipe it looked as if he were getting up steam for another sentence and these delays had the effect of continued in our next kill him uncle eb asked licked him he said humph we remarked incredulously licked him he repeated chuckling went into his cave with a sledge stake and wailed him wailed him till he run for his life whether it was true or not i have never been sure even to this day but ab's manner was at once modest and convincing

should ha thought he'd ha rassled with ye uncle eb remarked didn't give him time said ob as he took out his knife and began slowly to sharpen a stick don't ever want to rassle with no bear he added but hams is too scarce here in the woods to have em took away afore ye know the taste of em i ain't never been hard on bears don't seldom ever set no traps an i ain't shot a bear fer more'n ten year but they've got to be decent if any bear steals my vittles he's goin to get cuffed hard ab's tongue had limbered up at last his pipe was going well and he seemed to have struck an easy grade there was a tone of injury and aggrievement in his talk of the bear's ingratitude he snailed over his whittling as we laughed heartily at the droll effect of it all d'ye ever hear o the wild man that roams round these woods he asked never did said uncle eb i've seen em more times n ye could shake a stick at said ob crossing his legs comfortably and spitting into the fire

kind o think he's the same man folks tell of down in paradise valley there at goes around in the clear in after bedtime the night man i exclaimed guess that's what they call him said ob curious man sometimes i've had a good squint at him off in the woods he's wilder'n a deer an i've seen him jump over logs half as high as this shanty jest as easy as y'd hop a twig tried to foller him once or twice but t ain't no use he's quicker'n a wildcat what kind of a lookin man is he tip taylor asked great big broad-shouldered feller said ab six feet tall if he's an inch he'd a kind of a deer-skin jacket on when i seen him an breeches an moccasins made of some kind of hide i recollect one day i was over on the ridge two mile or more from the stillwater goin south i seen him gettin a drink at the spring there an the burnt timber an if i ain't mistaken there was a real live panther playin round him if it wasn't a panther twas pesky nigh it i can tell ye the critter see me fast an drew up his back then the man got up quicker'n a flash

soon as he see me jiminy didn't they move never see no human critter run as he did a big tree had fell across a lot of bush right in his path i'll be gall dumbed if it wasn't higher in my head but he cleared it jest as easy as a grasshopper'd go over a straw i'd like to know where he comes from gall dumbed if i wouldn't he's the consarned in this queerest animal in these woods ab emphasized this lucid view of the night man by an animated movement of his fist that held the big hunting knife with which he whittled then he emptied his pipe and began cutting more tobacco some say he's a ghost said tip taylor splitting his sentence with a yawn as he lay on a buffalo robe in the shanty shucks and shoe-strings said ab he looks too natural don't believe no ghost ever wore whiskers and long hair like his'n that don't hold a reason this remark was followed by dead silence tip seemed to lack both courage and information with which to prolong the argument gerald had long been asleep and we were all worn out with uphill traveling and the lack of rest

uncle eb went out to look after the horses that were tethered near us ab rose looked up through the tree-tops ventured a guess about the weather and strode off into the darkness we were five days in camp hunting fishing fighting flies and picking blueberries gerald's cough had not improved at all it was if anything a bit worse than it had been and the worry of that had clouded our holiday we were not in high spirits when finally we decided to break camp the next afternoon the morning of our fourth day at blueberry uncle eb and i crossed the lake at daylight to fish awhile in soda brook and gather orchids then abundant and beautiful in that part of the woods we headed for camp at noon and were well away from shore when a wild yell rang in the dead timber that choked the wide inlet behind us i was rowing and stopped the oars while we both looked back at the naked trees belly deep in the water but for the dry limbs here and there they would have looked like masts of sunken ships in a moment another wild whoop came rushing over the water

thinking it might be somebody in trouble we worked about and pulled for the mouth of the inlet suddenly i saw a boat coming in the dead timber there were three men in it two of whom were paddling they yelled like madmen as they caught sight of us and one of them waved a bottle in the air they're indians said uncle eb drunk as lords guess we'd better get out of the way i put about and with a hearty pull made for the other side of the lake three miles away the indians came after us their yells echoing in the far forest suddenly one of them lifted his rifle as if taking aim at us and bang it went the ball ricocheting across our bows crazy drunk said uncle eb and they're in for trouble pull with all your might i did that same putting my arms so stiffly to their task i feared the oars would break in a moment another ball came splintering the gunwales right between us but fortunately well above the water line

being half a mile from shore i saw we were in great peril uncle eb reached for his rifle his hand trembling sink em i shouted and do it quick or they'll sink us my old companion took careful aim and his ball hit them right on the starboard bow below the water line a splash told where it had landed they stopped yelling the man in the bow clapped his hat against the side of the boat guess we've gin him a little business to tend to said uncle eb as he made haste to load his rifle the indian at the bow was lifting his rifle again he seemed to reel as he took aim he was very slow about it i kept pulling as i watched him i saw that their boat was slowly sinking i had a strange fear that he would hit me in the stomach i dodged when i saw the flash of his rifle his ball struck the water ten feet away from us and threw a spray into my face uncle eb had lifted his rifle to shoot again suddenly the indian who had shot at us went overboard in a second they were all in the water their boat bottom up

now take your time said uncle eb coolly a frown upon his face they'll drown said i don't care if they do consarn em he answered there's some o them st regis devils an when they git whisky in em they'd jest as soon kill ye as look at ye they ain't no better'n rats we kept on our way and by and by a wind came up that gave us both some comfort for we knew it would soon blow them ashore ab thomas had come to our camp and sat with tip and gerald when we got there we told of our adventure and then ab gave us a bad turn and a proper appreciation of our luck by telling us that they were a gang of cutthroats the worst in the wilderness they'd a robbed you sure he said it's the same gang that killed a man on cat mountain last summer and i'll bet a dollar on it tip had everything ready for our journey home each day gerald had grown paler and thinner

as we wrapped him in a shawl and tenderly helped him into the wagon i read his doom in his face we saw so much of that kind of thing in our stern climate we knew what it meant our fun was over we sat in silence speeding down the long hills in the fading light of the afternoon those few solemn hours in which i heard only the wagon's rumble and the sweet calls of the whippoorwill waves of music on a sea of silence started me in a way of thought which has led me high and low these many years and still invites me the day was near its end when we got to the first big clearing from the top of a high hill we could see above the far forest the red rim of the setting sun big with winding from the skein of day that was now flying off the tree-tops in the west we stopped to feed the horses and to take a bite of jerked venison wrapped ourselves warmer for it was now dank and chilly and went on again the road went mostly down hill going out of the woods and we could make good time

it was near midnight when we drove in at our gate there was a light in the sitting-room and uncle eb and i went in with gerald at once elizabeth brower knelt at the feet of her son unbuttoned his coat and took off his muffler then she put her arms about his neck while neither spoke nor uttered any sound both mother and son felt and understood and were silent the ancient law of god that rends asunder and makes havoc of our plans bore heavy on them in that moment i have no doubt but neither murmured uncle eb began to pump vigorously at the cistern while david fussed with the fire we were all quaking inwardly but neither betrayed a sign of it it is a way the puritan has of suffering his emotions are like the deep undercurrents of the sea chapter sixteen recording by roger