XIV
The Quarrel
"Say, Yan, I saw a Blood-Robin this morning."
"That's a new one," said Yan, in a tone of doubt.
"Well, it's the purtiest bird in the country."
"What? A Humming-bird?"
"Na-aw-w-w. They ain't purty, only small."
"Well, that shows what you know," retorted Yan, "'for these exquisitewinged gems are at once the most diminutive and brilliantly colouredof the whole feathered race.'" This phrase Yan had read some where andhis overapt memory had seized on it.
"Pshaw!" said Sam. "Sounds like a book, but I'll bet I seen hundredsof Hummin'-birds round the Trumpet-vine and Bee-balm in the garden,an' they weren't a millionth part as purty as this. Why, it's just asred as blood, shines like fire and has black wings. The old Witch saysthe Indians call it a War-bird 'cause when it flew along the trailthere was sure going to be war, which is like enough, fur they wuz atit all the hull time."
"Oh, I know," said Yan. "A Scarlet Tanager. Where did you see it?"
"Why, it came from the trees, then alighted on the highest pole of theteepee."
"Hope there isn't going to be any war there, Sam. I wish I had one tostuff."
"Tried to get him for you, sonny, spite of the Rules. Could 'a' doneit, too, with a gun. Had a shy at him with an arrow an' I hain't beenbird or arrow since. 'Twas my best arrow, too--old Sure-Death."
"Will ye give me the arrow if I kin find it?" said Guy.
"Now you bet I won't. What good'd that be to me?"
"Will you give me your chewin' gum?"
"No."
"Will you lend it to me?"
"Yep."
"Well, there's your old arrow," said Guy, pulling it from between thelogs where it had fallen. "I seen it go there an' reckoned I'd lay lowan' watch the progress of events, as Yan says," and Guy whinnied.
Early in the morning the Indians in war-paint went off on a prowl.They carried their bows and arrows, of course, and were fully alert,studying the trail at intervals and listening for "signs of theenemy."
Their moccasined feet gave forth no sound, and their keen eyes took inevery leaf that stirred as their sinewy forms glided among the hugetrunks of the primeval vegetation--at least, Yan's note-book said theydid. They certainly went with very little noise, but they disturbed asmall Hawk that flew from a Balsam-fir--a "Fire tree" they now calledit, since they had discovered the wonderful properties of the wood.
Three arrows were shot after it and no harm done. Yan then looked intothe tree and exclaimed:
"A nest."
"Looks to me like a fuzz-ball," said Guy.
"Guess not," replied Yan. "Didn't we scare the Hawk off?"
He was a good climber, quite the best of the three, and dropping hishead-dress, coat, leggings and weapon, she shinned up the Balsamtrunk, utterly regardless of the gum which hung in crystalline dropsor easily burst bark-bladders on every part.
He was no sooner out of sight in the lower branches than Satan enteredinto Guy's small heart and prompted him thus:
"Le's play a joke on him an' clear out."
Sam's sense of humour beguiled him. They stuffed Yan's coat andpants with leaves and rubbish, put them properly together with thehead-dress, then stuck one of his own arrows through the breast of thecoat into the ground and ran away.
Meanwhile Yan reached the top of the tree and found that the nest wasonly one of the fuzz-balls so common on Fir trees. He called out tohis comrades but got no reply, so came down. At first the ridiculousdummy seemed funny, then he found that his coat had been injured andthe arrow broken. He called for his companions, but got no answer;again and again, without reply. He went to where they all had intendedgoing, but if they were there they hid from him, and feeling himselfscurvily deserted he went back to camp in no very pleasant humour.They were not there. He sat by the fire awhile, then, yielding to hishabit of industry, he took off his coat and began to work at the dam.
He became engrossed in his work and did not notice the return of therunaways till he heard a voice saying "What's this?"
On turning he saw Sam poring over his private note-book and thenbeginning to read aloud:
"Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird Thou art----"
But Yan snatched it out of his hands.
"I'll bet the rest was something about 'Singbird,'" said Sam.
Yan's face was burning with shame and anger. He had a poetic streak,and was morbidly sensitive about any one seeing its product. TheKingbird episode of their long evening walk was but one of manysimilar. He had learned to delight in these daring attacks of theintrepid little bird on the Hawks and Crows, and so magnified theminto high heroics until he must try to record them in rhyme. It wasvery serious to him, and to have his sentiments afford sport tothe others was more than he could bear. Of course Guy came out andgrinned, taking his cue from Sam. Then he remarked in colourlesstones, as though announcing an item of general news, "They say therewas a fearless-crested Injun shot in the woods to-day."
The morning's desertion left Yan in no mood for chaffing. He rightlyattributed the discourtesy to Guy. Turning savagely toward him hesaid, meaningly:
"Now, no more of your sass, you dirty little sneak."
"I ain't talkin' to you," Guy snickered, and followed Sam into theteepee. There were low voices within for a time. Yan went over towardthe dam and began to plug mud into some possible holes. Presentlythere was more snickering in the teepee, then Guy came out alone,struck a theatrical attitude and began to recite to a tree above Yan'shead:
"Kingbird, fearless crested Kingbird, Thou art but a blooming sing bird--"
But the mud was very handy and Yan hurled a mass that spattered Guythoroughly and sent him giggling into the teepee.
"Them's the bow-kays," Sam was heard to say. "Go out an' git somemore; dead sure you deserve 'em. Let _me_ know when the calls for'author' begin?" Then there was more giggling. Yan was fast losing allcontrol of himself. He seized a big stick and strode into the teepee,but Sam lifted the cover of the far side and slipped out. Guy tried todo the same, but Yan caught him.
"Here, I ain't doin' nothin'."
The answer was a sounding whack which made him wriggle.
"You let me alone, you big coward. I ain't doin' nothin' to you. Youbetter let me alone. Sam! S-A-M! S-A-A-A-M!!!" as the stick came downagain and again.
"Don't bother me," shouted Sam outside. "I'm writin' poethry--terriblepartic'lar job, poethry. He only means it in kindness, anyhow."
Guy was screaming now and weeping copiously.
"You'll get some more if you give me any more of your lip," said Yan,and stepped out to meet Sam with the note-book again, apparentlyscribbling away. As soon as he saw Yan he stood up, cleared his throatand began:
"Kingbird, fearless crested--"
But he did not finish it. Yan struck him a savage blow on the mouth.Sam sprang back a few steps. Yan seized a large stone.
"Don't you throw that at me," said Sam seriously. Yan sent it with hisdeadliest force and aim. Sam dodged it and then in self-defense ran atYan and they grappled and fought, while Guy, eager for revenge, rushedto help Sam, and got in a few trifling blows.
Sam was heavier and stronger than Yan, but Yan had gained wonderfullysince coming to Sanger. He was thin, but wiry, and at school he hadlearned the familiar hip-throw that is as old as Cain and Abel. It wasall he did know of wrestling, but now it stood him in good stead. Hewas strong with rage, too--and almost as soon as they grappled hefound his chance. Sam's heels flew up and he went sprawling in thedust. One straight blow on the nose sent Guy off howling, and seeingSam once more on his feet, Yan rushed at him again like a wild beast.A moment later the big boy went tumbling over the bank into the pond.
"_You_ see if I don't get you sent about your business fromhere," spluttered Sam, now thoroughly angry. "I'll tell Da you henderthe wurruk." His eyes were full of water and Guy's were full of starsand of tears. Neither saw the fourth party near; but Yan did. There,not twe
nty yards away, stood William Raften, spectator of the wholeaffair--an expression not of anger but of infinite sorrow anddisappointment on his face--not because they had quarrelled--no--heknew boy nature well enough not to give that a thought--but that_his_ son, older and stronger than the other and backed byanother boy, should be licked in fair fight by a thin, half-invalid.
It was as bitter a pill as he had ever had to swallow. He turned insilence and disappeared, and never afterward alluded to the matter.
"There stood Raften, spectator of the whole affair."]
Two Little Savages Page 30