rolf in the woods-第4章

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There　was　no　mistaking　the　bloated　face　and　white

moustache　of　Rolf's　uncle。



〃So；　you　young　scut！　that　is　how　you　waste　your　time。

I'll　larn　ye　a　lesson。〃



The　dog　was　tied；　the　Indian　looked　harmless；　and　the

boy　was　cowed；　so　the　uncle's　courage　mounted　high。　　He

had　been　teaming　in　the　nearby　woods；　and　the　blacksnake

whip　was　in　his　hands。　　In　a　minute　its　thong　was

lapped；　like　a　tongue　of　flame；　around　Rolf's　legs。　　The

boy　gave　a　shriek　and　ran；　but　the　man　followed　and

furiously　plied　the　whip。　　The　Indian；　supposing　it　was　Rolf's

father；　marvelled　at　his　method　of　showing　affection；　but

said　nothing；　for　the　Fifth　Commandment　is　a　large　one

in　the　wigwam。　　Rolf　dodged　some　of　the　cruel　blows；　but

was　driven　into　a　corner　of　the　rock。　　One　end　of　the　lash

crossed　his　face　like　a　red…hot　wire。



〃Now　I've　got　you！〃　growled　the　bully。



Rolf　was　desperate。　　He　seized　two　heavy　stones　and

hurled　the　first　with　deadly　intent　at　his　uncle's　head。

Mick　dodged　in　time；　but　the　second；　thrown　lower；　hit

him　on　the　thigh。　　Mick　gave　a　roar　of　pain。　　Rolf

hastily　seized　more　stones　and　shrieked　out；　〃You　come　on

one　step　and　I'll　kill　you！〃



Then　that　purple　visage　turned　a　sort　of　ashen　hue。

Its　owner　mouthed　in　speechless　rage。　　He　〃knew　it　was

the　Indian　had　put　Rolf　up　to　it。　　He'd　see　to　it　later；〃　and

muttering；　blasting；　frothing；　the　hoary…headed　sinner

went　limping　off　to　his　loaded　wagon。





*〃Skookum〃　or　〃Skookum　Chuck；〃　in　Chinook　means　〃Troubled　waters。〃







Chapter　5。　　Good…bye　to　Uncle　Mike



For　counsel　comes　with　the　night；　and　action　comes　with　the　day；

But　the　gray　half　light；　neither　dark　nor　bright；　is　a　time　to

hide　away。





Rolf　had　learned　one　thing　at　least　　his　uncle　was　a　coward。

But　he　also　knew　that　he　himself　was　in　the　wrong；　for　he　was

neglecting　his　work　and　he　decided　to　go　back　at　once　and　face

the　worst。　　He　made　little　reply　to　the　storm　of　scolding　that

met　him。　He　would　have　been　disappointed　if　it　had　not　come。　　He

was　used　to　it；　it　made　him　feel　at　home　once　more。　　He　worked

hard　and　silently。



Mick　did　not　return　till　late。　　He　had　been　drawing　wood　for

Horton　that　day；　which　was　the　reason　he　happened　in　Quonab's

neighbourhood；　but　his　road　lay　by　the　tavern；　and　when　he

arrived　home　he　was　too　helpless　to　do　more　than　mutter。



The　next　day　there　was　an　air　of　suspended　thunder。　Rolf

overheard　his　uncle　cursing　〃that　ungrateful　young　scut　…　not

worth　his　salt。〃　　But　nothing　further　was　said　or　done。　　His　aunt

did　not　strike　at　him　once　for　two　days。　　The　third　night　Micky

disappeared。　　On　the　next　he　returned　with　another　man；　they　had

a　crate　of　fowls；　and　Rolf　was　told　to　keep　away　from　〃that　there

little　barn。〃



So　he　did　all　morning；　but　he　peeped　in　from　the　hayloft　when　a

chance　came；　and　saw　a　beautiful　horse。　　Next　day　the　〃little

barn〃　was　open　and　empty　as　before。



That　night　this　worthy　couple　had　a　jollification　with　some

callers；　who　were　strangers　to　Rolf。　　As　he　lay　awake；　listening

to　the　carouse；　he　overheard　many　disjointed　allusions　that　he

did　not　understand；　and　some　that　he　could　guess　at：　〃Night　work

pays　better　than　day　work　any　time；〃　etc。　　Then　he　heard　his　own

name　and　a　voice；　〃Let's　go　up　and　settle　it　with　him　now。〃

Whatever　their　plan；　it　was　clear　that　the　drunken　crowd；

inspired　by　the　old　ruffian；　were　intent　on　doing　him　bodily

harm。　　He　heard　them　stumbling　and　reeling　up　the　steep　stairs。

He　heard；　〃Here；　gimme　that　whip；〃　and　knew　he　was　in　peril；

maybe　of　his　life；　for　they　were　whiskey…mad。　　He　rose　quickly；

locked　the　door；　rolled　up　an　old　rag　carpet；　and　put　it　in　his

bed。　　Then　he　gathered　his　clothes　on　his　arm；　opened　the　window；

and　lowered　himself　till　his　head　only　was　above　the　sill；　and

his　foot　found　a　resting　place。　　Thus　he　awaited。　　The　raucous

breathing　of　the　revellers　was　loud　on　the　stairs；　then　the　door

was　tried；　there　was　some　muttering；　then　the　door　was　burst　open

and　in　rushed　two；　or　perhaps　three；　figures。　　Rolf　could　barely

see　in　the　gloom；　but　he　knew　that　his　uncle　was　one　of　them。

The　attack　they　made　with　whip　and　stick　on　that　roll　of　rags　in

the　bed　would　have　broken　his　bones　and　left　him　shapeless；　had

he　been　in　its　place。　The　men　were　laughing　and　took　it　all　as　a

joke；　but　Rolf　had　seen　enough；　he　slipped　to　the　ground　and

hurried　away；　realizing　perfectly　well　now　that　this　was

〃good…bye。〃



Which　way？　　How　naturally　his　steps　turned　northward　toward

Redding；　the　only　other　place　he　knew。　　But　he　had　not　gone　a

mile　before　he　stopped。　　The　yapping　of　a　coon　dog　came　to　him

from　the　near　woods　that　lay　to　the　westward　along　Asamuk。　　He

tramped　toward　it。　To　find　the　dog　is　one　thing；　to　find　the

owner　another；　but　they　drew　near　at　last。　　Rolf　gave　the　three

yelps　and　Quonab　responded。



〃I　am　done　with　that　crowd；〃　said　the　boy。　　〃They　tried　to　kill

me　tonight。　　Have　you　got　room　for　me　in　your　wigwam　for　a　couple

of　days？〃



〃Ugh；　come；〃　said　the　Indian。



That　night；　for　the　first　time；　Rolf　slept　in　the　outdoor　air　of

a　wigwam。　　He　slept　late；　and　knew　nothing　of　the　world　about　him

till　Quonab　called　him　to　breakfast。







Chapter　6。　　Skookum　Accepts　Rolf　at　Last



Rolf　expected　that　Micky　would　soon　hear　of　his　hiding　place　and

come　within　a　few　days；　backed　by　a　constable；　to　claim　his

runaway　ward。　　But　a　week　went　by　and　Quonab；　passing　through

Myanos；　learned；　first；　that　Rolf　had　been　seen　tramping

northward　on　the　road　to　Dumpling　Pond；　and　was　now　supposed　to

be　back　in　Redding；　second；　that　Micky　Kittering　was　lodged　in

jail　under　charge　of　horse…stealing　and　would　certainly　get　a

long　sentence；　third；　that　his　wife　had　gone　back　to　her　own

folks　at　Norwalk；　and　the　house　was　held　by　strangers。



All　other　doors　were　closed　now；　and　each　day　that　drifted　by

made　it　the　more　clear　that　Rolf　and　Quonab　were　to　continue

together。　　What　boy　would　not　exult　at　the　thought　of　it？　　Here

was　freedom　from　a　brutal　tyranny　that　was　crushing　out　his　young

life；　here　was　a　dream　of　the　wild　world　coming　true；　with

gratification　of　all　the　hunter　instincts　that　he　had　held　in　his

heart　for　years；　and　nurtured　in　that　single；　ragged　volume　of

〃Robinson　Crusoe。〃　The　plunge　was　not　a　plunge；　except　it　be　one

when　an　eagle；　pinion…bound；　is　freed　and　springs　from　a　cliff　of

the　mountain　to　ride　the　mountain　wind。



The　memory　of　that　fateful　cooning　day　was　deep　and　lasting。

Never　afterward　did　smell　of　coon　fail　to　bring　it　back；　in　spite

of　the　many　evil　incidents　it　was　a　smell　of　joy。



〃Where　are　you　going；　Quonab？〃　he　asked　one　morning；　as　he　saw

the　Indian　rise　at　dawn　and　go　forth　with　his　song　drum；　after

warming　it　at　the　fire。　　He　pointed　up　to　the　rock；　and　for　the

first　time　Rolf　heard　the　chant　for　the　sunrise。　　Later　he　heard

the　Indian's　song　for　〃Good　Hunting；〃　and　another　for　〃When　His

Heart　Was　Bad。〃　They　were　prayers　or　praise；　all　addressed　to　the

Great　Spirit；　or　the　Great　Father；　and　it　gave　Rolf　an　entirely

new　idea　of　the　red　man；　and　a　startling　light　on　himself。　Here

was　the　Indian；　whom　no　one　considered　anything　but　a　hopeless

pagan；　praying　to　God　for　guidance　at　each　step　in　life；　while　he

himself；　supposed　to　be　a　Christian；　had　not　prayed　regularly　for

months　　was　in　danger　of　forgetting　how。



Yet　there　was　one　religious　observance　that　Rolf　never　forgot　

that　was　to　keep　the　Sabbath；　and　on　that　day　each　week　he　did

occasionally　say　a　little　prayer　his　mother　had　taught　him。　　He

avoided　being　seen　at　such　times　and　did　not　speak　of　kindred

doings。　　Whereas　Quonab　neither　hid　nor　advertised　his　religious

practices；　and　it　was　only　after　many　Sundays　had　gone　that

Quonab　remarked：



〃Does　your　God　come　only　one　day　of　the　week？　　Does　He　sneak　in

after　dark？　　Why　is　He　ashamed　that　you　only　whisper　to　Him？

Min