rolf in the woods-第49章

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credit　is　due　to　Skookum；　for　at　the　critical　moment　he　had

sprung　on　the　ruffian's　bare　and　abundant　leg　with　such　toothsome

effect　that　the　owner　fell　promptly　backward　and　the　knife　thrust

missed。　　It　was　quickly　over　and　Quonab　replaced　his　knife；

contemptuous　of　the　whole　crowd　before；　during　and　after　the

incident。　　Not　at　the　time；　but　days　later；　he　said　of　his　foe：

〃He　was　a　talker；　he　was　full　of　fear。〃



With　the　backwoods　only　thirty　miles　away；　and　the　unbroken

wilderness　one　hundred；　it　was　hard　to　believe　how　little　Henry

van　Cortlandt　knew　of　the　woods　and　its　life。　　He　belonged　to　the

ultra…fashionable　set；　and　it　was　rather　their　pose　to　affect

ignorance　of　the　savage　world　and　its　ways。　But　he　had　plenty　of

common…sense　to　fan　back　on；　and　the　inspiring　example　of

Washington；　equally　at　home　in　the　nation's　Parliament；　the　army

intrenchment；　the　glittering　ball　room；　or　the　hunting　lodge　of

the　Indian；　was　a　constant　reminder　that　the　perfect　man　is　a

harmonious　development　of　mind；　morals；　and　physique。



His　training　had　been　somewhat　warped　by　the　ultraclassic　fashion

of　the　times；　so　he　persisted　in　seeing　in　Quonab　a　sort　of

discoloured；　barbaric　clansman　of　Alaric　or　a　camp　follower　of

Xenophon's　host；　rather　than　an　actual　living；　interesting；

native　American；　exemplifying　in　the　highest　degree　the　sinewy；

alert　woodman；　and　the　saturated　mystic　and　pantheist　of　an　age

bygone　and　out　of　date；　combined　with　a　middle…measure

intelligence。　　And　Rolf；　tall；　blue…eyed　with　brown；　curling

hair；　was　made　to　pose　as　the　youthful　Achilles；　rather　than　as　a

type　of　America's　best　young　manhood；　cleaner；　saner；　and　of　far

higher　ideals　and　traditions　than　ever　were　ascribed　to　Achilles

by　his　most　blinded　worshippers。　　It　recalled　the　case　of

Wordsworth　and　Southey　living　side　by　side　in　England；　Southey；

the　famous；　must　needs　seek　in　ancient　India　for　material　to

write　his　twelve…volume　romance　that　no　one　ever　looks　at；

Wordsworth；　the　unknown；　wrote　of　the　things　of　his　own　time；

about　his　own　door？　and　produced　immortal　verse。



What　should　we　think　of　Homer；　had　he　sung　his　impressions　of　the

ancient　Egyptians？　or　of　Thackeray；　had　he　novelized　the　life　of

the　Babylonians？　It　is　an　ancient　blindness；　with　an　ancient　wall

to　bruise　one's　head。　It　is　only　those　who　seek　ointment　of　the

consecrated　clay　that　gives　back　sight；　who　see　the　shining　way

at　their　feet；　who　beat　their　face　against　no　wall；　who　safely

climb　the　heights。　Henry　van　Cortlandt　was　a　man　of　rare　parts；

of　every　advantage；　but　still　he　had　been　taught　steadfastly　to

live　in　the　past。　His　eyes　were　yet　to　be　opened。　The　living

present　was　not　his　　but　yet　to　be。



The　young　lawyer　had　been　assembling　his　outfit　at　Vandam's

warehouse；　for；　in　spite　of　scoffing　friends；　he　knew　that　Rolf

was　coming　back　to　him。



When　Rolf　saw　the　pile　of　stuff　that　was　gathered　for　that

outfit；　he　stared　at　it　aghast；　then　looked　at　Vandam；　and

together　they　roared。　There　was　everything　for　light　housekeeping

and　heavy　doctoring；　even　chairs；　a　wash　stand；　a　mirror；　a

mortar；　and　a　pestle。　　Six　canoes　could　scarcely　have　carried　the

lot。



〃'Tain't　so　much　the　young　man　as　his　mother；〃　explained　Big

Pete；　〃at　first　I　tried　to　make　'em　understand；　but　it　was　no

use；　so　I　says；　'All　right；　go　ahead；　as　long　as　there's　room　in

the　warehouse。'　I　reckon　I'll　set　on　the　fence　and　have　some　fun

seein'　Rolf　ontangle　the　affair。〃



〃Phew；　pheeeww　　ph…e…e…e…e…w；〃　was　all　Rolf　could　say　in

answer。　　But　at　last；　〃Wall；　there's　always　a　way。　I　sized　him　up

as　pretty　level　headed。　　We'll　see。〃



There　was　a　way　and　it　was　easy；　for；　in　a　secret　session；　Rolf；

Pete；　and　Van　Cortlandt　together　sorted　out　the　things　needed。　A

small　tent；　blankets；　extra　clothes；　guns；　ammunition；　delicate

food　for　three　months；　a　few　medicines　and　toilet　articles　　a

pretty　good　load　for　one　canoe；　but　a　trifle　compared　with　the

mountain　of　stuff　piled　up　on　the　floor。



〃Now；　Mr。　van　Cortlandt；〃　said　Rolf；　〃will　you　explain　to　your

mother　that　we　are　going　on　with　this　so　as　to　travel　quickly；

and　will　send　back　for　the　rest　as　we　need　it？〃



A　quiet　chuckle　was　now　heard　from　Big　Pete。　〃Good！　I　wondered

how　he'd　settle　it。〃



The　governor　and　his　lady　saw　them　off；　therefore；　there　was　a

crowd。　The　mother　never　before　had　noted　what　a　frail　and

dangerous　thing　a　canoe　is。　She　cautioned　her　son　never　to

venture　out　alone；　and　to　be　sure　that　he　rubbed　his　chest　with

the　pectoral　balm　she　had　made　from　such　and　such　a　famous

receipt；　the　one　that　saved　the　life　but　not　the　limb　of　old

Governor　Stuyvesant；　and　come　right　home　if　you　catch　a　cold；　and

wait　at　the　first　camp　till　the　other　things　come；　and　（in　a

whisper）　keep　away　from　that　horrid　red　Indian　with　the　knife；

and　never　fail　to　let　every　one　know　who　you　are；　and　write

regularly；　and　don't　forget　to　take　your　calomel　Monday；

Wednesday；　and　Friday；　alternating　with　Peruvian　bark　Tuesday；

Thursday；　and　Saturday；　and　squills　on　Sunday；　except　every　other

week；　when　he　should　devote　Tuesdays；　Fridays；　and　Sundays　to

rhubarb　and　catnip　tea；　except　in　the　full　moon；　when　the　catnip

was　to　be　replaced　with　graveyard　bergamot　and　the　squills　with

opodeldoc　in　which　an　iron　nail　had　been　left　for　a　week。



So　Henry　was　embraced；　Rolf　was　hand…shaken；　Quonab　was　nodded

at；　Skookum　was　wisely　let　alone；　and　the　trim　canoe　swung　from

the　dock。　Amid　hearty　cheers；　farewells；　and　〃God　speed　ye's〃　it

breasted　the　flood　for　the　North。



And　on　the　dock；　with　kerchief　to　her　eyes；　stood　the　mother；

weeping　to　think　that　her　boy　was　going　far；　far　away　from　his

home　and　friends　in　dear；　cultured；　refined　Albany；　away；　away；

to　that　remote　and　barbarous　inaccessible　region　almost　to　the

shore　land　of　Lake　Champlain。







Chapter　58。　Back　to　Indian　Lake



Young　Van　Cortlandt；　six　feet　two　in　his　socks　and　thirty…　four

inches　around　the　chest；　was；　as　Rolf　long　afterward　said；　〃awful

good　raw　material；　but　awful　raw。〃　　Two　years　out　of　college；

half　of　which　had　been　spent　at　the　law；　had　done　little　but

launch　him　as　a　physical　weakling　and　a　social　star。　　But　his

mental　make…up　was　more　than　good；　it　was　of　large　promise。　　He

lacked　neither　courage　nor　sense；　and　the　course　he　now　followed

was　surely　the　best　for　man…making。



Rolf　never　realized　how　much　a　farmer…woodman…

canoeman…hunter…camper　had　to　know；　until　now　he　met　a　man　who

did　not　know　anything；　nor　dreamed　how　many　wrong　ways　there　were

of　doing　a　job；　till　he　saw　his　new　companion　try　it。



There　is　no　single　simple　thing　that　is　a　more　complete　measure

of　one's　woodcraft　than　the　lighting　of　a　fire。　There　are　a　dozen

good　ways　and　a　thousand　wrong　ones。　A　man　who　can　light　thirty

fires　on　thirty　successive　days　with　thirty　matches　or　thirty

sparks　from　flint　and　steel　is　a　graduated　woodman；　for　the　feat

presupposes　experience　of　many　years　and　the　skill　that　belongs

to　a　winner。



When　Quonab　and　Rolf　came　back　from　taking　each　a　load　over　the

first　little　portage；　they　found　Van　Cortlandt　getting　ready　for

a　fire　with　a　great；　solid　pile　of　small　logs；　most　of　them　wet

and　green。　He　knew　how　to　use　flint　and　steel；　because　that　was

the　established　household　way　of　the　times。　　Since　childhood　had

he　lighted　the　candle　at　home　by　this　primitive　means。　　When　his

pile　of　soggy　logs　was　ready；　he　struck　his　flint；　caught　a　spark

on　the　tinder　that　is　always　kept　on　hand；　blew　it　to　a　flame；

thrust　in　between　two　of　the　wet　logs；　waited　for　all　to　blaze

up；　and　wondered　why　the　tiny　blaze　went　out　at　once；　no　matter

how　often　he　tried。



When　the　others　came　back；　Van　Cortlandt　remarked：　〃It　doesn't

seem　to　burn。〃　The　Indian　turned　away　in　silent　contempt。　Rolf

had　hard　work　to　keep　the　forms　of　respect；　until　the　thought

came：　〃I　suppose　I　looked　just　as　big　a　fo