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

The Fullest Details,  To Glory In Every Item As Though It All Were

Due To Himself. Rolf's Wonderful Journey Was Dilated On,  And In

The Reports To Albany He Was Honourably Mentioned For

Exceptionally Meritorious Service As A Bearer Of Despatches.

For Three Days Flying Kittering Was Hero Of The Post; Then Other

Runners Came With Other News And Life Went On.

Hitherto The Scouts Had Worn No Uniform,  But The Execution Of One

Of Their Number,  Who Was Captured By The British And Treated As A

Spy,  Resulted In Orders That All Be Formally Enlisted And Put In

Uniform.

Not A Few Withdrew From The Service; Some,  Like Quonab,

Reluctantly Consented,  But Rolf Was Developing The Fighting

Spirit,  And Was Proud To Wear The Colours.

The Drill Was Tedious Enough,  But It Was Of Short Duration For

Him. Despatches Were To Go To Albany. The General,  Partly To

Honour Rolf,  Selected Him.

"Are You Ready For Another Run,  Kittering?"

"Yes,  Sir."

"Then Prepare To Start As Soon As Possible For Fort George And

Albany. Do You Want A Mate?"

"I Should Like A Paddler As Far As Fort George."

"Well,  Pick Your Man."

"Quonab."

And When They Set Out,  For The First Time Rolf Was In The Stern,

The Post Of Guidance And Command. So Once More The Two Were

Travelling Again With Skookum In The Bow. It Was Afternoon When

They Started And The Four-Mile Passage Of The Creek Was Slow,  But

Down The Long,  Glorious Vista Of The Noble George They Went At

Full Canoe-Flight,  Five Miles An Hour,  And Twenty-Five Miles Of

The Great Fair-Way Were Reeled And Past When They Lighted Their

Nightly Fire.

At Dawn-Cry Of The Hawk They Sped Away,  And In Spite Of A Rising

Wind They Made Six Miles In Two Hours.

As They Approached The Familiar Landing Of Van Trumper's Farm,

Skookum Began To Show A Most Zestful Interest That Recalled The

Blackened Pages Of His Past. "Quonab,  Better Use That," And Rolf

Handed A Line With Which Skookum Was Secured And Thus Led To Make

A New Record,  For This Was The First Time In His Life That He

Landed At Van Trumper's Without Sacrificing A Chicken In Honour

Of The Joyful Occasion.

They Entered The House As The Family Were Sitting Down To

Breakfast.

"Mein Hemel! Mein Hemel! It Is Rolf And Quonab; And Vere Is Dot

Tam Dog? Marta,  Vere Is De Chickens? Vy,  Rolf,  You Bin Now A

Giant,  Yah. Mein Gott,  It Is I Am Glad! I Did Tink Der Cannibals

You Had Eat; Is It Dem Canadian Or Cannibal? I Tink It All One

The Same,  Yah!"

Marta Was Actually Crying,  The Little Ones Were Climbing Over

Rolf's Knee,  And Annette,  Tall And Sixteen Now,  Stood Shyly By,

Awaiting A Chance To Shake Hands.  Home Is The Abiding Place Of

Those We Love; It May Be A Castle Or A Cave,  A Shanty Or A

Chateau,  A Moving Van,  A Tepee,  Or A Canal Boat,  A Fortress Or

The Shady Side Of A Bush,  But It Is Home,  If There Indeed We Meet

The Faces That Are Ever In The Heart,  And Find The Hands Whose

Touch Conveys The Friendly Glow. Was There Any Other Spot On

Earth Where He Could Sit By The Fire And Feel That "Hereabout Are

Mine Own,  The People I Love?" Rolf Knew It Now -- Van Trumper's

Was His Home.

Talks Of The War,  Of Disasters By Land,  And Of Glorious Victories

On The Sea,  Where England,  Long The Unquestioned Mistress Of The

Waves,  Had Been Humbled Again And Again By The Dauntless Seamen

Of Her Western Blood; Talks Of Big Doings By The Nation,  And,  Yet

More Interesting,  Small Doings By The Travellers,  And The

Breakfast Passed All Too Soon. The Young Scout Rose,  For He Was

On-Duty,  But The Long Rollers On The Lake Forbade The Going

Forth. Van's Was A Pleasant Place To Wait,  But He Chafed At The

Delay; His Pride Would Have Him Make A Record On Every Journey.

But Wait He Must. Skookum Tied Safely To His Purgatorial Post

Whined Indignantly -- And With Head Cocked On One Side,  Picked

Out The Very Hen He Would Like To Utilize -- As Soon As Released

From His Temporary Embarrassment. Quonab Went Out On A Rock To

Bum Some Tobacco And Pray For Calm,  And Rolf,  Ever Active,

Followed Van To Look Over The Stock And Buildings,  And Hear Of

Minor Troubles. The Chimney Was Unaccountably Given To Smoking

This Year. Rolf Took An Axe And With Two Blows Cut Down A

Vigorous Growth Shrubbery That Stood Above The Chimney On The

West,  And The Smoking Ceased. Buck Ox Had A Lame Foot And Would

Allow No One Even To Examine It. But A Skilful Ox- Handler Easily

Hobbles An Ox,  Throws Him Near Some Small Tree,  And Then,  By

Binding The Lame Foot To The Tree,  Can Have A Free Hand. It

Proved A Simple Matter,  A Deep-Sunk,  Rusty Nail. And When The

Nail Was Drawn And The Place Washed Clean With Hot Brine,  Kind

Nature Was Left In Confidence To Do The Rest. They Drifted Back

To The House Now. Tomas Met Them Shouting Out A Mixture Of Dutch

And English And Holding By The Cover Annette's Book Of The "Good

Girl." But Its Rightful Owner Rescued The Precious Volume And Put

It On The Shelf.

"Have You Read It Through,  Annette?"

"Yes," Was The Reply,  For She Had Learned To Read Before They

Left Schuylerville.

"How Do You Like It?"

"Didn't Like It A Bit; I Like 'Robinson Crusoe'," Was The Candid

Reply.

The Noon Hour Came,  Still The White Rollers Were Pounding The

Shore.

"If It Does Not Calm By One O'clock I'll Go On Afoot."

So Off He Went With The Packet,  Leaving Quonab To Follow And

Await His Return At Fort George. In Schuyler Settlement He Spent

The Night And At Noon Next Day Was In Albany.

How It Stirred His Soul To See The Busy Interest,  The Marching Of

Men,  The Sailing Of Vessels,  And Above All To Hear Of More

Victories On The High Seas. What Mattered A Few Frontier Defeats

In The North,  When The Arrogant Foe That Had Spurned And Insulted

Them Before The World Had Now Been Humbled Again And Again.

Young Van Cortlandt Was Away,  But The Governor's Reception Of Him

Reflected The Electric Atmosphere -- The Country's Pride In Her Sons.

Rolf Had A Matter Of His Own To Settle. At The Bookseller's He

Asked For And Actually Secured A Copy Of The Great Book --

"Robinson Crusoe." It Was With A Thrilling Feeling Of Triumph

That He Wrote Annette's Name In It And Stowed It In His Bag.

He Left Albany Next Day In The Gray Dawn. Thanks To His Uniform,

He Got A Twenty-Five Mile Lift With A Traveller Who Drove A Fast

Team,  And The Blue Water Was Glinting Back The Stars When He

Joined Quonab At Fort George,  Some Sixty Miles Away.

In The Calm Betwixt Star-Peep And Sun-Up They Were Afloat. It Was

A Great Temptation To Stop At Hendrik's For A Spell,  But

Breakfast Was Over,  The Water Was Calm,  And Duty Called Him. He

Hallooed,  Then They Drew Near Enough To Hand The Book Ashore.

Skookum Growled,  Probably At The Hens,  And The Family Waved Their

Aprons As He Sped On. Thirty Miles Of Lake And Four Miles Of

Ticonderoga Creek They Passed And The Packet Was Delivered In

Four Days And Three Hours Since Leaving.

The General Smiled And His Short But Amply Sufficient Praise Was

Merely,  "You're A Good 'Un."

"Thar Is Two Things," Said Si Sylvanne To The Senate,  "That Every

National Crisis Is Bound To Show Up: First,  A Lot O' Dum Fools In

Command; Second A Lot O Great Commanders In The Ranks. An'

Fortunately Before The Crisis Is Over The Hull Thing Is Sure Set

Right,  And The Men Is Where They Oughter Be."

How True This Was The Nation Was Just Beginning To Learn. The

Fools In Command Were Already Demonstrated,  And The Summer Of

1813 Was Replete With Additional Evidence. May,  June,  And July

Passed With Many Journeyings For Rolf And Many Times With Sad

News. The Disasters At Stony Creek,  Beaver Dam,  And Niagara Were

Severe Blows To The Army On The Western Frontier. In June On Lake

Champlain The Brave But Reckless Lieutenant Sidney Smith Had Run

His Two Sloops Into A Trap. Thus The Growler And The Eagle Were

Lost To The Americans,  And Strengthened By That Much The British

Navy On The Lake.

Encouraged By These Successes,  The British North Of Lake

Champlain Made Raid After Raid Into American Territory,

Destroying What They Could Not Carry Off.

Rolf And Quonab Were Sent To Scout In That Country And If

Possible Give Timely Notice Of Raiders In Force.

The Americans Were Averse To Employing Indians In Warfare; The

British Entertained No Such Scruples And Had Many Red-Skinned

Allies. Quonab's Case,  However,  Was Unusual,  Since He Was

Guaranteed By His White Partner,  And Now He Did Good Service,  For

He Knew A Little French And Could Prowl Among The Settlers

Without Anyone Suspecting Him Of Being An American Scout.

Thus He Went Alone And Travelled Far. He Knew The Country Nearly

To Montreal And Late In July Was Lurking About Odletown,  When He

Overheard Scattered Words Of A Conversation That Made Hin Eager

For More. "Colonel Murray - - Twelve Hundred Men -- Four Hundred

Men --"

Meanwhile Rolf Was Hiding In The Woods About La Colle Mill.

Company After Company Of Soldiers He Saw Enter,  Until At Least

Five Hundred Were There. When Night Came Down,  He Decided To Risk

A Scarer Approach. He Left The Woods And Walked Cautiously Across

The Open Lands About.

The Hay Had Been Cut And Most Of It Drawn In,  But There Was In

The Middle Of The Field A Hay-Cock. Rolf Was Near This When He

Heard Sounds Of Soldiers From The Mill. Soon Large Numbers Came

Out,  Carrying Their Blankets. Evidently There Was Not Room For

Them In The Mill,  And They Were To Camp On The Field.

The Scout Began To Retreat When Sounds Behind Showed That Another

Body Of Soldiers Was Approaching From That Direction And He Was

Caught Between The Two. There Was Only One Place To Hide And That

Was Beneath The Haycock. He Lifted Its Edge And Crawled Under,

But It Was Full Of Thistles And Brambles; Indeed,  That Was Why It

Was Left,  And He Had The Benefit Of All The Spines About Him.

His Heart Beat Fast As He Heard The Clank Of Arms And The

Trampling; They Came Nearer,  Then The Voices Became More

Distinct. He Heard Unmistakable Evidence Too That Both Bodies

Were Camping For The Night,  And That He Was Nearly Surrounded.

Not Knowing What Move Was Best He Kept Quiet. The Men Were

Talking Aloud,  Then They Began Preparing Their Beds And He Heard

Some One Say,  "There's A Hay-Cock; Bring Some Of That."

A Soldier Approached To Get An Armful Of The Hay,  But Sputtered

Out A Chapter Of Malediction As His Bare Hands Touched The Masses

Of Thistle And Briers. His Companions Laughed At His Mishap. He

Went To The Fire And Vowed He'd Stick A Brand In It And Back He

Came With A Burning Stick.

Rolf Was All Ready To Make A Dash For His Life As Soon As The

Cover Should Take Fire,  And He Peered Up Into The Soldier's Face

As The Latter Blew On The Brand; But The Flame Had Died,  The

Thistles Were Not Dry,  And The Fire Was A Failure; So,  Growling

Again,  The Soldier Threw Down The Smoking Stick And Went Away. As

Soon As He Was Safely Afar,  Rolf Gathered A Handful Of Soil And

Covered The Red Embers.

It Was A Critical Moment And His Waiting Alone Had Saved Him.

Two Soldiers Came With Their Blankets And Spread Them Near. For A

Time They Smoked And Talked. One Of Them Was Short Of Tobacco;

The Other Said,  "Never Mind,  We'll Get Plenty In Plattsburg," And

They Guffawed.

Then He Heard,  "As Soon As The Colonel" And Other Broken Phrases.

It Was A Most Difficult Place For Rolf; He Was Tormented With

Thistles In His Face And