Rolf in the Woods

“You stay by me, and git me out. I’ll give ye my rifle” — then, after a short silence — “an’ I’ll throw in all the traps an’ the canoe.”

“I’ll stay by you,” said Rolf, “and in about two weeks we’ll take you down to Lyons Falls. I guess you can guide us.”

“Ye can have all them pelts,” and again the trapper presented the spoils he had stolen, “an’ you bet it’s your rifle when ye get me out.”

So it was arranged. But it was necessary for Quonab to go back to their own cabin. Now what should he do? Carry the new lot of fur there, or bring the old lot here to dispose of all at Lyons Falls?

Rolf had been thinking hard. He had seen the evil side of many men, including Hoag. To go among Hoag’s people with a lot of stuff that Hoag might claim was running risks, so he said:

“Quonab, you come back in not more than ten days. We’ll take a few furs to Lyons Falls so we can get supplies. Leave the rest of them in good shape, so we can go out later to Warren’s. We’ll get a square deal there, and we don’t know what at Lyon’s.”

So they picked out the lynx, the beaver, and a dozen martens to leave, and making the rest into a pack, Quonab shouldered them, and followed by Skookum, trudged up the mountain and was lost to view in the woods.

The ten days went by very slowly. Hoag was alternately querulous, weeping, complaining, unpleasantly fawning, or trying to insure good attention by presenting again and again the furs, the gun, and the canoe.

Rolf found it pleasant to get away from the cabin when the weather was fine. One day, taking Hoag’s gun, he travelled up the nearest stream for a mile, and came on a big beaver pond. Round this he scouted and soon discovered a drowned beaver, held in a trap which he recognized at once, for it had the (’’ ’ ’’’) mark on the frame. Then he found an empty trap with a beaver leg in it, and another, till six traps were found. Then he gathered up the six and the beaver, and returned to the cabin to be greeted with a string of complaints:

“Ye didn’t ought to leave me like this. I’m paying ye well enough. I don’t ax no favours,” etc.

“See what I got,” and Rolf showed the beaver. “An’ see what I found;” then he showed the traps. “Queer, ain’t it,” he went on, “we had six traps just like them, and I marked the face just like these, and they all disappeared, and there was a snowshoe trail pointing this way. You haven’t got any crooked neighbours about here, have you?”

The trapper looked sulky and puzzled, and grumbled, “I bet it was Bill Hawkins done it”; then relapsed into silence.

Chapter 47. Hoag’s Home-coming

When it comes to personal feelin’s better let yer friends do the talkin’ and jedgin’. A man can’t handle his own case any more than a delirious doctor kin give hisself the right physic. —

— Sayings of Si Sylvanne.

The coming of springtime in the woods is one of the gentlest, sweetest advents in the world. Sometimes there are heavy rains which fill all the little rivers with an overflood that quickly eats away the ice and snow, but usually the woodland streams open, slowly and gradually. Very rarely is there a spate, an upheaval, and a cataclysmal sweep that bursts the ice and ends its reign in an hour or two. That is the way of the large rivers, whose ice is free and floating. The snow in the forest melts slowly, and when the ice is attacked, it goes gradually, gently, without uproar. The spring comes in the woods with swelling of buds and a lengthening of drooping catkins, with honking of wild geese, and cawing of crows coming up from the lower countries to divide with their larger cousins, the ravens, the spoils of winter’s killing.

The small birds from the South appear with a few short notes of spring, and the pert chicadees that have braved it all winter, now lead the singing with their cheery “I told you so” notes, till robins and blackbirds join in, and with their more ambitious singing make all the lesser roundelays forgot.

Once the winter had taken a backward step — spring found it easy to turn retreat into panic and rout; and the ten days Quonab stayed away were days of revolutionary change. For in them semi-winter gave place to smiling spring, with all the snow-drifts gone, except perhaps in the shadiest hollows of the woods.