XII
A Crisis
At school he was a model boy except in one respect--he had strange,uncertain outbreaks of disrespect for his teachers. One day he amusedhimself by covering the blackboard with ridiculous caricatures of theprincipal, whose favourite he undoubtedly was. They were rather cleverand proportionately galling. The principal set about an elaborate planto discover who had done them. He assembled the whole school and begancross-examining one wretched dunce, thinking him the culprit. The laddenied it in a confused and guilty way; the principal was convinced ofhis guilt, and reached for his rawhide, while the condemned set up ahowl. To the surprise of the assembly, Yan now spoke up, and in a toneof weary impatience said:
"Oh, let him alone. I did it."
His manner and the circumstances were such that every one laughed. Theprincipal was nettled to fury. He forgot his manhood; he seized Yanby the collar. He was considered a timid boy; his face was white; hislips set. The principal beat him with the rawhide till the schoolcried "Shame," but he got no cry from Yan.
That night, on undressing for bed, his brother Rad saw the long blackwales from head to foot, and an explanation was necessary. He wasincapable of lying; his parents learned of his wickedness, and new andharsh punishments were added. Next day was Saturday. He cut his usualdouble or Saturday's share of wood for the house, and, bruised andsmarting, set out for the one happy spot he knew. The shadow liftedfrom his spirit as he drew near. He was already forming a plan foradding a fireplace and chimney to his house. He followed the secretpath he had made with aim to magnify its secrets. He crossed the openglade, was, nearly at the shanty, when he heard voices--loud, coarsevoices--_coming from his shanty_. He crawled up close. The doorwas open. There in his dear cabin were three tramps playing cards anddrinking out of a bottle. On the ground beside them were his shellnecklaces broken up to furnish poker chips. In a smouldering fireoutside were the remains of his bow and arrows.
Poor Yan! His determination to be like an Indian under torturehad sustained him in the teacher's cruel beating and in his homepunishments, but this was too much. He fled to a far and quiet cornerand there flung himself down and sobbed in grief and rage--he wouldhave killed them if he could. After an hour or two he came tremblingback to see the tramps finish their game and their liquor; then theydefiled the shanty and left it in ruins.
The brightest thing in his life was gone--a King discrowned,dethroned. Feeling now every wale on his back and legs, he sullenlywent home.
This was late in the summer. Autumn followed last, with shorteningdays and chilly winds. Yan had no chance to see his glen, even had hegreatly wished it. He became more studious; books were his pleasurenow. He worked harder than ever, winning honour at school, butattracting no notice at the home, where piety reigned.
The teachers and some of the boys remarked that Yan was getting verythin and pale. Never very robust, he now looked like an invalid; butat home no note was taken of the change. His mother's thoughts wereall concentrated on his scapegrace younger brother. For two years shehad rarely spoken to Yan peaceably. There was a hungry place inhis heart as he left the house unnoticed each morning and saw hisgraceless brother kissed and darlinged. At school their positionswere reversed. Yan was the principal's pride. He had drawn no morecaricatures, and the teacher flattered himself that that beating waswhat had saved the pale-faced head boy.
He grew thinner and heart-hungrier till near Christmas, when thebreakdown came.
* * * * *
"He is far gone in consumption," said the physician. "He cannot liveover a month or two"
"There in his dear cabin were three tramps"]
"He _must_ live," sobbed the conscience-stricken mother. "He mustlive--O God, he must live."
All that suddenly awakened mother's love could do was done. Theskilful physician did his best, but it was the mother that saved him.She watched over him night and day; she studied his wishes and comfortin every way. She prayed by his bedside, and often asked God toforgive her for her long neglect. It was Yan's first taste ofmother-love. Why she had ignored him so long was unknown. She wassimply erratic, but now she awoke to his brilliant gifts, his steady,earnest life, already purposeful.
Two Little Savages Page 14