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Two Little Savages

Page 50

by Ernest Thompson Seton


  XIX

  The Trial of Grit

  The boys had made war bonnets after the "really truly" Indian stylelearned from Caleb. White Turkey tail-feathers and white Goosewing-feathers dyed black at the tips made good Eagle feathers. Somewisps of red-dyed horsehair from an old harness tassel; strips of redflannel from an old shirt, and some scraps of sheepskin supplied theremaining raw material. Caleb took an increasing interest, and helpedthem not only to make the bonnet, but also to decide on what thingsshould count _coup_ and what _grand coup_. Sam had a numberof feathers for shooting, diving, "massacreeing the Whites," and hisgrand tufted feathers for felling the pine and shooting the Cat-Owl.

  Among other things, Yan had counted coup for trailing. The Deer hunthad been made still more real by having the "Deer-boy" wear a pair ofsandals made from old boots; on the sole of each they put two linesof hobnails in V shape, pointing forward. These made hooflike markswherever the Deer went. One of the difficulties with the corn was thatit gave no clue to the direction or doubling of the trail, but thesandals met the trouble, and with a very little corn to help they hadan ideal trail. All became very expert, and could follow fast a veryslight track, but Yan continued the best, for what he lacked ineyesight he more than made up in patience and observation. He alreadyhad a _grand coup_ for finding and shooting the Deer in the heart,that time, at first shot before the others came up even, and had wonsix other _grand coups_--one for swimming 200 yards in five minutes,one for walking four measured miles in one hour, one for running 100yards in twelve seconds, one for knowing 100 wild plants, one forknowing 100 birds, and the one for shooting the Horned Owl.

  Guy had several good _coups_, chiefly for eyesight. He could see"the papoose on the squaws back," and in the Deer hunt he had severaltimes won _coups_ that came near being called _grand coup_,but so far fate was against him, and even old Caleb, who was partialto him, could not fairly vote him a _grand coup_.

  "What is it that the Injuns most likes in a man: I mean, what wouldthey druther have, Caleb?" asked Sappy one day, confidently expectingto have his keen eyesight praised.

  "Bravery," was the reply. "They don't care what a man is if he'sbrave. That's their greatest thing--that is, if the feller has thestuff to back it up. An' it ain't confined to Injuns; I tell you thereain't anything that anybody goes on so much. Some men pretends tothink one thing the best of all, an' some another, but come right downto it, what every man, woman an' child in the country loves an'worships is pluck, clear grit, well backed up."

  "_Well, I tell you_," said Guy, boiling up with enthusiasm atthis glorification of grit, "_I_ ain't scared o' nothin'."

  "Wall, how'd you like to fight Yan there?"

  "Oh, that ain't fair. He's older an' bigger'n I am."

  "Say, Sappy, I'll give you one. Suppose you go to the orchard alonean' get a pail of cherries. All the men'll be away at nine o'clock."

  "Yes, and have old Cap chaw me up."

  "Thought you weren't scared of anything, an' a poor little Dog smallerthan a yearling Heifer scares you."

  "Well, I don't like cherries, anyhow."

  "Here, now, Guy, I'll give you a real test. You see that stone?" andCaleb held up a small round stone with a hole in it. "Now, you knowwhere old Garney is buried?"

  Garney was a dissolute soldier who blew his head off, accidentally,his friends claimed, and he was buried on what was supposed to be hisown land just north of Raften's, but it afterward proved to be part ofthe highway where a sidepath joined in, and in spite of its diggersthe grave was at the _crossing of two roads_. Thus by the hand offate Bill Garney was stamped as a suicide.

  The legend was that every time a wagon went over his head he mustgroan, but unwilling to waste those outcries during the rumbling ofthe wheels, he waited till midnight and rolled them out all together.Anyone hearing should make a sympathetic reply or they would surelysuffer some dreadful fate. This was the legend that Caleb called upto memory and made very impressive by being properly impressedhimself.

  "Now," said he, "I am going to hide this stone just behind the rockthat marks the head of Garney's grave, an' I'll send you to git itsome night. Air ye game?"

  "Y-e-s, I'll go," said the Third War Chief without visible enthusiasm.

  "If he's so keen for it now, there'll be no holding him back whennight comes," remarked the Woodpecker.

  "Remember, now," said Caleb, as he left them to return to his ownmiserable shanty, "this is the chance to show what you're made of.I'll tie a cord to the stone to make sure that you get it."

  "We're just going to eat. Won't you stay and jine with us," calledSam, but Caleb strode off without taking notice of the invitation.

  In the middle of the night the boys were aroused by a man's voiceoutside and the scratching of a stick on the canvas.

  "Boys! Guy--Yan! Oh, Guy!"

  "Hello! Who is it?"

  "Caleb Clark! Say, Guy, it's about half-past eleven now. You have justabout time to go to Garney's grave by midnight an' get that stone,and if you can't find the exact spot _you listen for the groaning_--_that'll guide you_."

  This cheerful information was given in a hoarse whisper that somehowconveyed the idea that the old man was as scared as he could be.

  "I--I--I--" stammered Guy, "I can't see the way."

  "This is the chance of your life, boy. You get that stone and you'llget a _grand coup_ feather, top honours fur grit. I'll wait heretill you come back."

  "I--I--can't find the blamed old thing on such a dark night.I--I--ain't goin'."

  "Errr--you're scared," whispered Caleb.

  "I ain't scared, on'y what's the use of goin' when I couldn't find theplace? I'll go when it's moonlight."

  "Err--anybody here brave enough to go after that stone?"

  "I'll go," said the other two at the same time, though with a certainair of "But I hope I don't have to, all the same."

  "You kin have the honour, Yan," said the Woodpecker, with evidentrelief.

  "Of course, I'd like the chance--but--but--I don't want to push aheadof you--you're the oldest; that wouldn't be square," was the reply.

  "Guess we'd better draw straws for it."

  So Sam sought a long straw while Yan stirred up the coals to a blaze.The long straw was broken in two unequal pieces and hidden in Sam'shand. Then after shuffling he held it toward Yan, showing only thetwo tips, and said, "Longest straw takes the job." Yan knew from oldexperience that a common trick was to let the shortest straw stick outfarthest, so he took the other, drew it slowly out and out--it seemedendless. Sam opened his hand and showed that the short straw remained,then added with evident relief: "You got it. You are the luckiestfeller I ever did see. Everything comes your way."

  If there had been any loophole Yan would have taken it, but it wasnow clearly his duty to go for that stone. It was pride rather thancourage that carried him through. He dressed quietly and nervously;his hands trembled a little as he laced his shoes. Caleb waitedoutside when he heard that it was Yan who was going. He braced him upby telling him: "You're the stuff. I jest love to see grit. I'llgo with you to the edge of the woods--'twouldn't be fair to gofarther--and wait there till you come back. It's easy to find. Go fourpanels of fence past the little Elm, then right across on the otherside of the road is the big stone. Well, on the side next the northfence you'll find the ring pebble. The coord is lying kind o' crossthe big white stone, so you'll find it easy; and here, take thischalk; if your grit gives out, you mark on the fence how far you didget, but don't you worry about that groaning--it's nothing but ayarn--don't be scairt."

  "I am afraid I am scared, but still I'll go."

  "That's right," said the Trapper with emphasis. "Bravery ain't so muchnot being scairt as going ahead when you are scairt, showing that youkin boss your fears."

  So they talked till they struck out of the gloom of the trees to thecomparative light of the open field.

  "It's just fifteen minutes to midnight," said Caleb, looking at hiswatch with the light of a match, "You'll make it ea
sy. I'll waithere."

  Then Yan went on alone.

  It was a somber night, but he felt his way along the field fence tothe line fence and climbed that into the road that was visible as aless intense darkness on the black darkness of the grass. Yan walkedon up the middle cautiously. His heart beat violently and his handswere cold. It was a still night, and once or twice little mouseysounds in the fence corner made him start, but he pushed on. Suddenlyin the blackness to the right of the road he heard a loud "whisk,"then he caught sight of a white thing that chilled his blood. It wasthe shape of a man wrapped in white, but lacked a head, just as thestory had it. Yan stood frozen to the ground. Then his intellect cameto the rescue of his trembling body. "What nonsense! It must be awhite stone." But no, it moved. Yan had a big stick in his hand. Heshouted: "Sh, sh, sh!" Again the "corpse" moved. Yan groped on theroad for some stones and sent one straight at the "white thing." Heheard a "whooff" and a rush. The "white thing" sprang up and ran pasthim with a clatter that told him he had been scared by Granny deNeuville's white-faced cow. At first the reaction made him weak at theknees, but that gave way to a better feeling. If a harmless old Cowcould lie out there all night, why should he fear? He went on morequietly till he neared the rise in the road. He should soon see thelittle Elm. He kept to the left of the highway and peered into thegloom, going more slowly. He was not so near as he had supposed, andthe tension of the early part of the expedition was coming back morethan ever. He wondered if he had not passed the Elm--should he goback? But no, he could not bear the idea; that would mean retreat.Anyhow, he would put his chalk mark here to show how far he did get.He sneaked cautiously toward the fence to make it, then to his reliefmade out the Elm not twenty-five feet away. Once at the tree, hecounted off the four panels westward and knew that he was opposite thegrave of the suicide. It must now be nearly midnight. He thought heheard sounds not far away, and there across the road he saw a whitishthing--the headstone. He was greatly agitated as he crawled quietly aspossible toward it. Why quietly he did not know. He stumbled throughthe mud of the shallow ditch at each side, reached the white stone,and groped with clammy, cold hands over the surface for the string. IfCaleb had put it there it was gone now. So he took his chalk and wroteon the stone "Yan."

  Oh, what a scraping that chalk made! He searched about with hisfingers around the big boulder. Yes, there it was; the wind, no doubt,had blown it off. He pulled it toward him. The pebble was drawn acrossthe boulder with another and louder rasping that sounded fearfullyin the night. Then at once a gasp, a scuffle, a rush, a splash ofsomething in mud, or water--horrible sounds of a being choking,strangling or trying to speak. For a moment Yan sank down in terror.His lips refused to move. But the remembrance of the cow came to helphim. He got up and ran down the road as fast as he could go, a coldsweat on him. He ran so blindly he almost ran into a man who shouted"Ho, Yan; is that you?" It was Caleb coming to meet him. Yan couldnot speak. He was trembling so violently that he had to cling to theTrapper's arm.

  "What was it, boy? I heard it, but what was it?"

  "I--I--don't know," he gasped; "only it was at the g-g-grave."

  "Gosh! I heard it, all right," and Caleb showed no little uneasiness,but added, "We'll be back in camp in ten minutes."

  He took Yan's trembling hand and led him for a little while, but hewas all right when he came to the blazed trail. Caleb stepped ahead,groping in the darkness.

  Yan now found voice to say, "I got the stone all right, and I wrote myname on the grave, too."

  "Good boy! You're the stuff!" was the admiring response.

  They were very glad to see that there was a fire in the teepeewhen they drew near. At the edge of the clearing they gave a loud"_O-hoo_--_O-hoo_--O-hoo-oo," the Owl cry that they hadadopted because it is commonly used by the Indians as a night signal,and they got the same in reply from within.

  "All right," shouted Caleb; "he done it, an' he's bully good stuff andgets an uncommon _grand coup_."

  "Wish I had gone now," said Guy. "I could 'a' done it just as well asYan."

  "Well, go on now."

  "Oh, there ain't any stone to get now for proof."

  "You can write your name on the grave, as I did."

  "Ah, that wouldn't prove nothin'," and Guy dropped the subject.

  Yan did not mean to tell his adventure that night, but his excitementwas evident, and they soon got it out of him in full. They werea weird-looking crowd as they sat around the flickering fire,experiencing as he told it no small measure of the scare he had justbeen through.

  When he had finished Yan said, "Now, Guy, don't you want to go and tryit?"

  "Oh, quit," said Guy; "I never saw such a feller as you for yammeringaway on the same subjek."

  Caleb looked at his watch now, as though about to leave, when Yansaid:

  "Say, Mr. Clark, won't you sleep here? There's lots o' room in Guy'sbed."

  "Don't mind if I do, seem' it's late."

 

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