Rolf In The Woods by Ernest Thompson Seton (phonics story books .txt) 📕

When Things Is Looking Black As Black Can Be,  It's A Sure Sign Of

Luck Coming Your Way." So Said Si Sylvanne,  And So It Proved To

Van Cortlandt The Moon Of The Falling Leaves Was Waning,  October

Was Nearly Over,  The Day Of His Return To Albany Was Near,  As He

Was To Go Out In Time For The Hunters To Return In Open Water. He

Was Wonderfully Improved In Strength And Looks. His Face Was

Brown And Ruddy. He Had Abandoned All Drugs,  And Had Gained Fully

Twenty Pounds In Weight. He Had Learned To Make A Fire,  Paddle A

Canoe,  And Go Through The Woods In Semi-Silence. His Scholarly

Talk Had Given Him Large Place In Rolf's Esteem,  And His Sweet

Singing Had Furnished A Tiny Little Shelf For A Modicum Of

Quonab's Respect. But His Attempts To Get A Deer Were Failures.

"You Come Back Next Year With Proper,  Farsight Glasses And You'll

All Right," Said Rolf; And That Seemed The One Ray Of Hope.

The Three Days' Storm Had Thrown So Many Trees That The Hunters

Decided It Would Be Worth While Making A Fast Trip Down To

Eagle's Nest,  To Cut Such Timber As Might Have Fallen Across The

Stream,  And So Make An Easy Way For When They Should Have Less Time.

The Surmise Was Quite Right. Much New-Fallen Timber Was Now

Across The Channel. They Chopped Over Twenty-Five Trunks Before

They Reached Eagle's Nest At Noon,  And,  Leaving The River In

Better Shape Than Ever It Was,  They Turned,  For The Swift,

Straight,  Silent Run Of Ten Miles Home.

As They Rounded The Last Point,  A Huge Black Form In The Water

Loomed To View. Skookum's Bristles Rose. Quonab Whispered,  "

Moose! Shoot Quick!"  Van Was The Only One With A Gun. The Great

Black Beast Stood For A Moment,  Gazing At Them With Wide-Open

Eyes,  Ears,  And Nostrils,  Then Shook His Broad Horns,  Wheeled,

And Dashed For The Shore. Van Fired And The Bull Went Down With A

Mighty Splash Among The Lilies. Rolf And Skookum Let Off A

Succession Of Most Unhunterlike Yells Of Triumph. But The Giant

Sprang Up Again And Reached The Shore,  Only To Fall To Van

Cortlandt's Second Barrel. Yet The Stop Was Momentary; He Rose

And Dashed Into The Cover. Quonab Turned The Canoe At Once And

Made For The Land.

A Great Sob Came From The Bushes,  Then Others At Intervals.

Quonab Showed His Teeth And Pointed. Rolf Seized His Rifle,

Skookum Sprang From The Boat,  And A Little Later Was Heard

Letting Off His War-Cry In The Bushes Not Far Away.

The Men Rushed Forward,  Guns In Hand,  But Quonab Called,  "Look

Out! Maybe He Waiting."

"If He Is,  He'll Likely Get One Of Us." Said Rolf,  With A Light

Laugh,  For He Had Some Hearsay Knowledge Of Moose.

Covered Each By A Tree,  They Waited Till Van Had Reloaded His

Double-Barrelled,  Then Cautiously Approached. The Great Frothing

Sobs Had Resounded From Time To Time.

Skookum's Voice Also Was Heard In The Thicket,  And When They

Neared And Glimpsed The Place,  It Was To See The Monster On The

Ground,  Lying At Full Length,  Dinging Up His Head At Times When

He Uttered That Horrid Sound Of Pain.

The Indian Sent A Bullet Through The Moose's Brain; Then All Was

Still,  The Tragedy Was Over.

But Now Their Attention Was Turned To Van Cortlandt. He Reeled,

Staggered,  His Knees Trembled,  His Face Turned White,  And,  To

Save Himself From Falling,  He Sank Onto A Log. Here He Covered

His Face With His Hands,  His Feet Beat The Ground,  And His

Shoulders Heaved Up And Down.

The Others Said Nothing. They Knew By The Signs And The Sounds

That It Was Only Through A Mighty Effort That Young Van

Cortlandt,  Grown Man As He Was,  Could Keep Himself From

Hysterical Sobs And Tears.

Not Then,  But The Next Day It Was That Quonab Said: "It Comes To

Some After They Kill,  To Some Before,  As It Came To You,  Rolf; To

Me It Came The Day I Killed My First Chipmunk,  That Time When I

Stole My Father's Medicine."

They Had Ample Work For Several Hours Now,  To Skin The Game And

Save The Meat. It Was Fortunate They Were So Near Home. A

Marvellous Change There Was In The Atmosphere Of The Camp. Twice

Quonab Spoke To Van Cortlandt,  As The Latter Laboured With Them

To Save And Store The Meat Of His Moose. He Was Rubbed,  Doped,

Soiled,  And Anointed With Its Flesh,  Hair,  And Blood,  And That

Night,  As They Sat By Their Camp Fire,  Skookum Arose,  Stretched,

Yawned,  Walked Around Deliberately,  Put His Nose In The Lawyer's

Hand. Gave It A Lick,  Then Lay Down By His Feet. Van Cortlandt

Glanced At Rolf,  A Merry Twinkle Was In The Eyes Of Both. "It's

All Right. You Can Pat Skookum Now,  Without Risk Of Being

Crippled. He's Sized You Up. You Are One Of Us At Last;" And

Quonab Looked On With Two Long Ivory Rows A-Gleaming In His

Smile.

Was Ever There A Brighter Blazing Sunrise After Such A Night Of

Gloom? Not Only A Deer,  But The Biggest Of All Deer,  And Van

Himself The Only One Of The Party That Had Ever Killed A Moose.

The Skin Was Removed And Afterward Made Into A Hunting Coat For

The Victor. The Head And Horns Were Carefully Preserved To Be

Carried Back To Albany,  Where They Were Mounted And Still Hang In

The Hall Of A Later Generation Of The Name. The Final Days At The

Camp Were Days Of Happy Feeling; They Passed Too Soon,  And The

Long-Legged Lawyer,  Bronzed And Healthy Looking,  Took His Place

In Their Canoe For The Flying Trip To Albany. With An Empty Canoe

And Three Paddles (Two And One Half,  Van Said),  They Flew Down

The Open Stretch Of Jesup's River In Something Over Two Hours And

Camped That Night Fully Thirty-Five Miles From Their Cabin. The

Next Day They Nearly Reached The Schroon And In A Week They

Rounded The Great Bend,  And Albany Hove In View.

How Van's Heart Did Beat! How He Did Exult To Come In Triumph

Home,  Reestablished In Health And Strengthened In Every Way.

They Were Sighted And Recognized. Messengers Were Seen Running;

A Heavy Gun Was Fired,  The Flag Run Up On The Capitol,  Bells Set

A-Ringing,  Many People Came Running,  And More Flags Ran Up On Vessels.

A Great Crowd Gathered By The Dock.

"There's Father,  And Mother Too!" Shouted Van,  Waving His Hat.

"Hurrah," And The Crowd Took It Up,  While The Bells Went Jingle,

Jangle,  And Skookum In The Bow Sent Back His Best In Answer.

The Canoe Was Dragged Ashore. Van Seized His Mother In His Arms,

As She Cried: "My Boy,  My Boy,  My Darling Boy! How Well You Look.

Oh,  Why Didn't You Write? But,  Thank God,  You Are Back Again,  And

Looking So Healthy And Strong. I Know You Took Your Squills And

Opodeldoc. Thank God For That! Oh,  I'm So Happy! My Boy,  My Boy!

There's Nothing Like Squills And God's Blessing."

Rolf And Quonab Were Made To Feel That They Had A Part In It All.

The Governor Shook Them Warmly By The Hand,  And Then A Friendly

Voice Was Heard: "Wall,  Boy,  Here Ye Air Agin; Growed A Little,

Settin' Up And Sassin' Back,  Same As Ever." Rolf Turned To See

The Gigantic,  Angular Form And Kindly Face Of Grizzly Old Si

Sylvanne And Was Still More Surprised To Hear Him Addressed

"Senator."

"Yes," Said The Senator,  "One O' Them Freak Elections That

Sometimes Hits Right; Great Luck For Albany,  Wa'nt It?"

"Ho," Said Quonab,  Shaking The Senator's Hand,  While Skookum

Looked Puzzled And Depressed.

"Now,  Remember," Said The Governor,  Addressing The Indian,  The

Lad,  And The Senator,  "We Expect You To Dine Tonight At The

Mansion; Seven O'clock."

Then The Terror Of The Dragon Conventionality,  That Guards The

Gate And Hovers Over The Feast,  Loomed Up In Rolf's Imagination.

He Sought A Private Word With Van. "I'm Afraid I Have No Fit

Clothes; I Shan't Know How To Behave," He Said.

"Then I'll Show You. The First Thing Is To Be Perfectly Clean And

Get A Shave; Put On The Best Clothes You Have,  And Be Sure

They're Clean; Then You Come At Exactly Seven O'clock,  Knowing

That Every One Is Going To Be Kind To You And You're Bound To

Have A Good Time. As To Any Other 'Funny-Do' You Watch Me,  And

You'll Have No Trouble."

So When The Seven O'clock Assemblage Came,  And Guests Were

Ascending The Steps Of The Governor's Mansion,  There Also Mounted

A Tall,  Slim Youth,  An Easy-Pacing Indian,  And A Prick-Eared,

Yellow Dog. Young Van Cortlandt Was Near The Door,  On Watch To

Save Them Any Embarrassment. But What A Swell He Looked,

Cleanshaven,  Ruddy,  Tall,  And Handsome In The Uniform Of An

American Captain,  Surrounded By Friends And Immensely Popular.

How Different It All Was From That Lonely Cabin By The Lake.

A Butler Who Tried To Remove Skookum Was Saved From Mutilation By

The Intervention First Of Quonab And Next Of Van; And When They

Sat Down,  This Uncompromising Four- Legged Child Of The Forest

Ensconced Himself Under Quonab's Chair And Growled Whenever The

Silk Stockings Of The Footman Seemed To Approach Beyond The Line

Of True Respect.

Young Van Cortlandt Was Chief Talker At The Dinner,  But A Pompous

Military Man Was Prominent In The Company. Once Or Twice Rolf Was

Addressed By The Governor Or Lady Van Cortlandt,  And Had To Speak

To The Whole Table; His Cheeks Were Crimson,  But He Knew What He

Wanted To Say And Stopped When It Was Said,  So Suffered No Real

Embarrassment.

After What Seemed An Interminable Feast Of Countless Dishes And

Hours' Duration,  An Extraordinary Change Set In. Led By The

Hostess,  All Stood Up,  The Chairs Were Lifted Out Of Their Way,

And The Ladies Trooped Into Another Room; The Doors Were Closed,

And The Men Sat Down Again At The End Next The Governor.

Van Stayed By Rolf And Explained: "This Is Another Social Custom

That Began With A Different Meaning. One Hundred Years Ago,  Every

Man Got Drunk At Every Formal Dinner,  And Carried On In A Way

That The Ladies Did Not Care To See,  So To Save Their Own

Feelings And Give The Men A Free Rein,  The Ladies Withdrew.

Nowadays,  Men Are Not Supposed To Indulge In Any Such Orgy,  But

The Custom Continues,  Because It Gives The Men A Chance To Smoke,

And The Ladies A Chance To Discuss Matters That Do Not Interest

The Men. So Again You See It Is Backed By Common Sense."

This Proved The Best Part Of The Dinner To Rolf. There Was A

Peculiar Sense Of Over-Politeness,  Of Insincerity,  Almost,  While

The Ladies Were Present; The Most Of The Talking Had Been Done By

Young Van Cortlandt And Certain Young Ladies,  Assisted By Some

Very Gay Young Men And The General. Their Chatter Was Funny,  But

Nothing More. Now A Different Air Was On The Group; Different

Subjects Were Discussed,  And By Different Men,  In A Totally

Different Manner.

"We've Stood Just About All We Can Stand," Said The Governor,

Alluding To An Incident Newly Told,  Of A British Frigate Boarding

An American Merchant Vessel By Force And Carrying Off Half Her

Crew,  Under Presence That They Were British Seamen In Disguise.

"That's Been Going On For Three Years Now. It's Either Piracy Or

War,  And,  In Either Case,  It's Our Duty To Fight."

"Jersey's Dead