182 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 80, 18S6. 



A&drcsss all tommwnimtkms to tlw Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



SAM LOVEL'S CAMPS.-VII. 



THE bright and cloudless raorning had a sharp chill in 

 its breath, and the Slang was trozen from shore to 

 shore, its Avaters smooth with ice of the regulation thick- 

 ness of the first and last cold mornings of a year, namely, 

 "as thick as window glass." Even in the wide expanse of 

 Little Otter there was no open water but in streaks along 

 the channel, marked by shimmering wavelets in their 

 lines of blue and gold when the fii'st rays of the sim. shot 

 across the landscape. All the hills and" mountain ranges 

 were hoary as they had been in midwinter, for snow liad 

 fallen on them while rain had fallen on the lowlands of 

 the Champlain Valley. There could be no visiting of the 

 traps before noon, for though the stout dugou1>— a shape- 

 lier craft, be it said, than Uncle Lisha had prophesied 

 could be turned out by its builder's hand — might make 

 its way imharmed through the ice, it would cost hard 

 work, and the frail birch would be cut in shreds in mak- 

 ing a passage through it. And so, when breakfast was 

 cooked and eaten, and the slight task of washing the 

 few dishes performed, there seemed not much but loafing 

 to fill the forenoon with. 



"We can't eat half o' them 'ere fish afore they spile," 

 Sam remarked, after a long look at the hanging row of 

 di-essed pickerel; "I wish 't some o' the folks up to Dan- 

 vis had t' other half. Say, Peltier, don't ye wanter take a 

 walk an' see the country?" 



"Honh! By gol, I d know 'baout it," with a blank stare 

 toward the fai--off hills of Ms birthplace, "I do' know 's I 

 raly wanter hoof it clearn ov' to Danvis t'day!" 



"Danvis! Shaw! nobody wants ye tu. I was a-tMnkin' 

 mebby, 't 'ould be a pious idee to take three fom- pickril 

 up t' ol' Mister Bartlett, 'at gin us leave to camp here. 

 A drefiie clever ol' gentleman he is, a forty-leventh 

 cousin of Joels', an' a Quaker too, but t'other kind, Hick- 

 site. He lives up there in that tew-story white haouse. 

 'Taint more 'n a mild, an' we c'n set ye crest in Ant^vine's 

 canew, er you c'n go 'raound 'f you'd di-auther. 'T aint 

 fur t' the head o' the Slang, er to" where yo\i c'n cross on 

 some lawgs. 'F you'd jes' livs not go an' "take him a mess 

 o' them fish I'd be 'bleeged to ye. 'N' Antwine, we're 

 e'en a most aotiten terbarker an' crackers. S'posin' you 

 set Peltier acrost, 'n go 'long up the store an' git the staffs 

 o' life? 'N' sav, Peltier, the's an' al-kilhn' slick gal up to 

 Mr. Bai-tlett's!" 



Pelatiah's blushes shone thi'ough the sunburn of his 

 honest face. "Oh, you git aout, Sam will!" with a bashful 

 gTiifaw, "I don't cai'e nothin' 'baout no gals!" Then, with 

 quick forgetfulness of his denial of such weakness, as he 

 looked down upon his worn and outgrown raiment, turn- 

 ing his arms tins way and that to inspect then covering, 

 "By gol! I do' wanter go a-lookin' 's I du, where the's any 

 —any young folks!" 



"Wal, All don' care for me," Antoine said, getting 

 promptly to his feet, "Ah guess Ah'U lookin' well 'nough 

 's Ah do, an' Ah'U geat ma close all pref-fume for go see 

 de gal. Ah'U carry dat feesh, an' Peltiet go store for de 

 jpro-vizhiu. Ah ant see homan so long ago Ah'U freegit 

 what kan close he wore. Oome, hoorah boy!" He cut a 

 forked twig from a water maple, and stringing four of 

 the nicest fish upon it led the way to the landing, whither 

 Pelatiah presently followed after hatchelling'his towy 

 locks with the sparsely toothed and only comb the camp 

 afforded, and vainly attempting to pull his trousers down 

 into neighborliness with his boots. They launched the 

 dugout, and boarding it, plowed and broke then- slow way 

 to the further shore, the ice crashing and tinkUng and 

 jinghng along then course, and hissing in long fissures on 

 either side. When they had landed, Sam noted that after 

 keeping together through the first field, Antoine diverged 

 to the right in the direction of the store at the corners, 

 and Pelatiah to the left toward the big white house that 

 shone among its gray locusts and against its dusky back- 

 ground of orchard. With his pleased half laugh and 

 muttered "jes 's I 'xpected," came a faint sigh as he 

 turned his eyes toward the white dome of Tater HiU, in 

 whose morning shadow dwelt his buxom sweetheart. 

 There was some comforting ijromise in the ranks of dry- 

 ing muskrat skins that brought a contented expression to 

 his face after he had cast a slow calculating glance ui)on 

 them. Then he gathered some tm-pentine from half a 

 dozen boxed pines, and melting it with grease in a bullet 

 ladle set about salving his canoe, which had got a grievous 

 wound from a hemlock snag. He had the camp all to 

 HmseK, for Drive had gone off hunting on his own ac- 

 count, and his earnest baying could be heard away up- 

 stream, mixed with the querulous whistle of the wood- 

 chuck he was besieging. But Sam was never weighted 

 with any feeling of loneliness in the companionship of the 

 woods. If , when among the patriarchal trees and then- tribes 

 of tenants and dependents, any sense of isolation made 

 itself apparent, it was what he caUed "a good lonesome," 

 and he enjoyed it to-day. Out of the woods came only 

 its own voice and the voices of the wood folk: the sigh of 

 the pines and hemlocks; the thud of the partridges' drum 

 beat, beginning with measured strokes and ending in an 

 ecstatic roll; the soft cluck and whistle of the jay's love- 

 song intermitting with his more discordant cries; the 

 woodpecker's note of mating time, as if he was sharpen- 

 ing his biU with a steel for the battles love might cause; 

 and from far away, like the jingle of many discordant 

 bells made almost melodious by distance, came the clamor 

 of a convention of crows gathered to denounce some 

 detested hawk or owl or fox. Near by a cliipmonk 

 clucked incessantly over his recent discovery of a new 

 world wherein were sunlight and fresh air; and Sam's 

 neighbor, the red squirrel, was in high spmts with such 

 sunshine after storm, and flung at him a shower of 

 derisive jeers and snickers from the trunk of the great 

 hemlock where he clung with spasmodic jerks of feet and 

 tail. 



"You sassy little cuss!" said Sam, "what sorter names 

 be them you're a caUin' on me? I'm a dum'd good min' 

 ter stop your chittereein' with a pill aoaten the Ore Bed! 

 You'll be a suckin' aigs an' killin' young birds wus 'n a 

 weasel in less 'n a month, you little pirut! But you're 

 hevin' lots o' tan livin', 'n' I d' know 's they're niy aigs an' 

 birds, so jaw away an' be dum'd." And Sam lit liis pipe 

 with a coal and continued the application of the plaster 

 to the canoe bottom. 



Now and then the ice feU along shore with sudden 

 jingling crashes to the level of the falling water, and as 

 the forenoon wore away and the shadows shortened it 

 melted apace where the sunshine fell fidl upon it, and 

 open water began to ripple and shimmer in the breeze 

 and there was a prospect of making the roimd of the traps 

 in the afternoon if Antoine returned in time. The rent in 

 the canoe was mended, and Sam lay taking a lazy smoke 

 beside the ashes, casting an occasional glance across the 

 Slang for his companions, when a slight wake attracted 

 his attention and he saw a small, dark object swimming- 

 past, "Naow, Mister Mnshrat," he said, as he crawled 

 into the shanty and brought forth the Ore Bed, "don't ye 

 know 't aint healthy for none o' your fam'iy 'round here?" 

 but as he crept to the shore with his rifle cocked and at a 

 ready, he saw that the lithe, snake-like movements of 

 the swimmer were not those of the muskrat. ' 'Ah, Mister 

 Mink, beg pardon an' make my maimers," he said, speak- 

 ing with the spiteful crack of "the rifle. The silent wake 

 ended with the spat of tlie ball, but before the first wave- 

 let set the ice to tinkUng along the shore, the mink slid to 

 the sm-f ace feebly making the last struggles for his ten- 

 aciously held life. "That trouble in yer head is too much 

 for ye," Sam said, as, after launcliing the birch, he picked 

 up the yet writhing animal and gave it a finishing whack 

 on the gunwale of the canoe, "you tough little cuss. 

 What a hard-Ufed critter an auter must be; julluk you, 

 only cut to a bigger partem. By the great horn spoon! I 

 wish 't I could git a crack at one on 'em jest onct! 'N' 

 the' haint one left in the hull o' these tew cricks they give 

 the' names to, I s'pose. Ho, hum! Haow many year 

 afore the' won't be notliin' left, I wonder? Not till 

 arter I'm a-sleepin' tmder a blankit o' sods, I hope." 

 As he sighed and cast the vague yet scrutinizing 

 glance of a hunter over water and banks, and it wa"s 

 caught by something, larger .than mink or muskrat, 

 swimming toward him, nothing was further from his 

 thoughts tlian the old adage, 'The devil is nighest when 

 you're speakin' on liim.' "Wliat's that 'ere ol' fool of a 

 haoun' dawg comin' hum by water for? An' it col' 'nough 

 to — Drive, you cussed ol' f o"br' beginning under his breath 

 to formulate a rebuke; then as it became apparent that the 

 swimmer was not Drive nor any other dog, quite holding 

 his breath and reaching cautiously forward for the gun , 

 which he was too experienced a woodsman to let long ac- 

 company him uncharged. His nerves vibrated with a 

 slight ti-emor when the stock touched his cheek, but at 

 the right moment the long btu-rel hmig firm in liis grip 

 and the Ore Bed snapped out its sharp little voice. "'F 

 that haint an auter the' haint none!' said Sam, looking 

 anxiously over the vacant water as he arose and began 

 to reload the rifle. ' 'An' I'U be dum'd 'f I haint missed 

 him! Hev I forgot habw to shoot just the minute in my 

 hull life 'at I'd orter shot the clustest?" But now, a rod 

 or more from where the beast had disappeared it broke 

 to the surface again in a wild, writhing, flurrying struggle 

 like ai great fish in its death throes, and 'Sam having 

 hastily but steadily finished the loading of his gun, fired 

 with instantaneous aim at the dark center of the widen- 

 ing circles of waves, then laying hold of his paddle, with 

 a few strokes sent Ms craft thither, and dealt the strug- 

 gling otter a downright blow with the paddle's edge that 

 took aU the fight and nearly aU the life out of htm. 

 When he lifted his prize inboard, the last otter ever killed 

 in these waters, Sam was as full of happiness as Pelatiah 

 had been over the capture of Ms big pickerel, but he 

 raised no shout of triumph, he only heaved a great sigh 

 of intense satisfaction and said, "There, gol dum ye!" 



Not long after Sam had gone ashore Antoine appeared 

 on the eastern bank. The unsteadiness of Ms gait and 

 the loudness of Ms voice showed that he had more than 

 tasted the storekeeper's "old Medford," and Sam Avatched 

 his embarkation with some anxiety, for though a soaking 

 wa's not likely to injm-e Mm, crackers and tobacco would 

 be the worse for it. But he got himself and his provis- 

 sions safely afloat, and then a few boats' lengths from 

 shore, remembered Pelatiah, for whom he began to caU: 

 "Hey! Peltiet! where you was be? Come! Hey! Hoorah, 

 boy! Mos' suppy ready. Bed tam for go sleep! Wal, 

 you'll ant goin' come, va zu diab', go to dev'! On'stan' 

 bose of it, hein?" Then resuming Ms devious way, he 

 lifted up his voice, sonorous and tuneful in .spite of its 

 drunken huskiness, in English song after this wise: 



" 'HaoAV dear of ma lieart was de screen of ma cMlshood, 

 Wlien f on' reggylecshin' bring him tip of ma viow, 

 De orchy, de middle hees deep tangly wil'wool, 

 An' Mtcli bee-love spot of ma infant, he's new'— 

 "What was nex' of it Ah freegit for rembler— oh, Ah 

 know: 



'HokeyboP bucMe, ba-ern bung buckle, 



Hor cover moss buckle, be'll bang up de well!' " 



Having got the better of this to his complete satisfac- 

 tion he fell to miu'dering the words of another cold water 

 song high in the popular favor of those days: 



" 'Ob den rrre-sagn dem rrro-sy wahn, 

 Hitch smahlin son of a daugh-taa, 

 For he ant so good for de useful blood 

 As a col' of spahklln' wa— taa!' " 



"Wlioop! Hoorah for hoorah! Where was you goin' for 

 go, can-noe? Ant you'll know it way for shanty? Probly 

 you'll get start for Danvit, ant it? Gat sail on woggni, do 

 dat!" He had become aware at last that the canoe, after 

 making some uncertam progress toward the desired port, 

 was now headed for the eastern shore of the Slang. 

 "Here, Antwine, come here!" Sam shouted, becoming 

 anxious agam concerning the fate of the crackers and 

 tobacco, then to himself: "Hear that dxun'd Canuck, 

 drunker 'n a bumble bee, an' a singin' temp'ance songs! 

 What sets folks alius to singin' them when they 're full o' 

 rimi, an' ongodly sinners to shoutin' hymnes, I wonder? 

 Kinder ev'nin' tMngs up, I s'pose. An' there comes Pel- 

 tier! If that dum'd fool ondertakes to bring him over, 

 he'U draowud htm, sartm. Peltier! don't ye tech to come 

 acrost till I come arter ye! Come here, Antwine, wi' 

 them crackers an' terbarker— I'm most stai-vin'." 



"Bah gosh! M'sieu Lo vet, Ah'U been mek it un petite 

 voyage for ma healthy! Naow Ah'U goin' git Peltiet, 

 sah," and he began to shape his coiu-se to the best of Ms 

 ability toward the waiting passenger. 



"Oh, come along here, Antwine," Sam caUed, coaxingly, 

 "I've got suthin to show ye!" 



"Bah gosh, M'sieu Lovet, Ah'll captins dis boats 1'" An- 

 toine answered, stUl paddhng on his way with blundering 

 strokes, "Wen Ah'U get ready come dar, Ah'll comin': 



wen Ah'U get ready, Ah'U don't comin'! bah gosh feesh 

 hooks! On'stan'?" 



"Look a here, Antwine," said Sam, in a different tone, 

 and at the same time launching the birch and stepping 

 into it, "you come ashore right sti'aight off, er I'll come 

 aout there an' knock ye gaily west, an' tow ye ashore! 

 I've go' done a foolin'.""^ 



"Oh, Sam, you'll ant gittin' mad, was it! Youant wan' 

 leave you ^isity for roos^' all uaght on banks lak geeses, 

 don't it? Ah'll goin' git it, me." 



"You come here!" "Sam said sharply, as he pushed hiB 

 canoe afloat, and Antome turning the prow of the dug- 

 out homeward was soon along-side. "Oh, Sam," he 

 whined in maudlin tones as he tumbled ashore. "What 

 you was talk lak dat way for? You'U know Ah ant wan' 

 faght wid you, Sam. Dey ant fo' hond'ed t'ousan' man 

 could scairt me, but Ah ant wan' leek ma frien' sah! Bah 

 gosh, no!" and he made an attempt to embrace Sam. 



"All right," Sam said, putting him aside. "I must go 

 an' git Peltier. You look a' that 'ere annymil 'at I killed 

 wMlst you was gone, an' then lay daown an' take a 

 snooze, for I know you're timible tired with aU 'at you've 

 underwent." 



As Antoine balanced himself before the dead otter and 

 focused his vague stare upon it, he was at fii"st almost 

 overcome with wonder, "What you call dat, Sam? 

 Panters? Bears? No, he ant bears, he'll got some tails! 

 What he was be?" 



"Auter," Sam anwered. 



"Oh, yas, otty, yas, what we'll call it la loutre, yas, yas. 

 Ah keel more as fave bonded of it m Canada, some of it 

 more bigger as you was, but dis one so small Ah ant know 

 heem. Ah s'pose you'll feel pooty plump, Sam, prob'ly, 

 but he leetly f ellar, not much bigger as minks was. What 

 for you ant let heem growed, Sam, hein?" But Sam was 

 half way across the Slang, and when he returned with 

 Pelatiah, the Canadian was snoring his way into the ob- 

 livious interior of the land of Nod. 



"Youneedn't git nothin' for me t' eat," Pelatiah said, as 

 Sam began preparations for a late dinner, "for they made 

 me eat dinner with 'em. Oh, my gol! a heap bigger 'n 

 I c'ld see over, they piled ont' my plate! They hedn't had 

 a fish this year, 'n' they was turrible 'bleeged to you, 'n' 

 made me bring a hull ha' bushel o' apples, signofiders an' 

 gillflaowers, they be. I'm gom' to take the bag hum 

 some time. An' tliey thee'd an' thaou'd me jes' if I was 

 a member 'mong Friends 's they say. 'N' old Mister Bart- 

 lett he wanter know 'f I knowed any stiddy feller 't 

 wanter liii-e aout for six or eight niont's, an' fin'ly sez 

 he, 'does thee wanter?' S'pose aour folks 'ould let me, 

 SamwiU, bein' 't I haint come of age, an' haow much 'd I 

 orter ast him? Say," without waiting for an answer, 

 "that gal haint their darter, she's their Mi-ed gal, but by 

 gol! she's harnsome 'nough to be the President's darter, 

 She's neater 'n any school marm! Oh! 'f I wan't 'shamed 

 o' my darn'd ol' ragged duds, an' me a stickin' tew foot 

 aouten both ends on 'em. Shouldn't s'pose she' ha' spoke 

 tu me, but she ast me a huU lot o' questions 'baout 

 my folks, an' kep' a smilin' jes 's clever! S'pose she 

 wouldn't look at me agin, would she, SamwiU?" 



"Can't tell ye, Peltier; the's no tellin' notMn' 'baout 

 what women folks 'U du or won't du," Sam answered, 

 rising and brushing from his tawny beard the crumbs of 

 the crackers wherewith he had made Ms dinner, "Wal, 

 I must be off an' tend to what traps I can, for that poor 

 creetur won't be no use to-day, Peltier, don't ye never 

 drink no sperits 'thaout ye raly need 'em, 'n' that'll be 

 miglity seldom. When himtin' an" fisMn' an' trappin'a,n' 

 drinkiu' goes together, the himtm' an' fishin' an' trappin' 

 gits di-eme poorly 'tended tu, I tell ye. If he wakes up 

 ugly, you Mnder sannder oft" an' let him work it off alone 

 by hisseU', eiiess" — after a bttle consideration — "you'd 

 dnither swat Mm side of the head tew three times an' 

 make Mm behave hisself . If he thinks you're the least 

 mite af eared on him, he'U be meaner 'n tunket, arter the 

 way o' all his dum'd breed," 



Giving tMs advice, Sam departed, and during his ab- 

 sence Pelatiah comforted Mniself with apples and gum 

 and pleasant waking dreams. 



The sun had gone down behind the woods and twilight 

 was creejiing over the landscape, and the evening air was 

 vibrating with the ceaseless pm- of the toads and the shrill 

 chime of the Hyla's vesper beUs, before the light dip of 

 Sam's returning paddle was heard, foUowed presently by 

 the swish of the canoe bottom on the matted drift of 

 rushes. He had as little to show for Ms voyage as was to 

 be expected after such an unpropitious night tov trappmg 

 as the last had been, and he had not had time to visit and 

 reset nearly all the traps as he might have done with An- 

 toine's help, and so Sam was not in his pleasantest mood 

 when he stalked mto the fii-elight with his light burden 

 of muskrats, "Haint that dtmi'd peasouper come to his 

 senses yit?" he said, pausmg a moment to listen to An- 

 toine's 'snores, "wish 't he'd crawled int' the Slang an' 

 drao-wnded hisself; but he couldn't — ^he hamt one o' the 

 draowndin' kind, Wal, Peltier, le's ha' suthin' t' eat— 

 reckoned you'd ha' got some supper ready 'fore naow," 



"Wal," Pelatiah apologized, '"I did think on't some 'n' 

 I went so ftrr 's to cut some pork, but I was feared I'd spile 

 it a-fiym' on't; and went so fur as to wash some 'taters, 

 but I didn't know whether no to put 'em in hot water or 

 col', an' the same wi' the tea, an' I didn't know whether 

 no it took a han'ful for a drawm', er less, er more, an so 

 I didn't do nuthin sca'sely, an' Antwme he haint done 

 much only snort and grunt, I'm sorry, but I guess my 

 'cumUary edication has been sorter mislected', as Solon 

 Briggssays. Ctmiilaryl what in J'rus'lem does that mean, 

 s'pose?" 



"Oh, wal," Sam said cheerily, "nev' mind, we'll ha' 



suthin' to right," and he soon had pork, fish and potatoes 

 cooked and ready. "I b'lieve I'll call aour sleepm' pard- 

 ner; he's hungry 'f he only knowed it, Antwine !'■ Gettmg 

 no response but a grunt, he dragged the Canadian forth 

 by the legs and shook him to such wakefulness that he 

 sat upright and stared blankly at the smoMng slab. "Bah 

 gosh! where Ah'll was? Ah'U fought All was keel in de 

 Papineau war!" 



"You'd orter ben," said Sam, 



"Oh Sam, no! Dis was gra' deal bettah for me. 'F 

 Ah'U dead, Ah can' heat, but naow Ah show you, me!" 

 And he did, whUe they ate their supper without much 

 sauce of conversation. 



"Naow then, Antwine," Sam said, as they prepared to 

 turn in for the night, "I Avanter teU ye one thing, if ye git 

 drunk agin whUst we're here, I'U give ye the almightiest 

 hidin' 't ever you hed in the best blue beech gad I c'n find 

 — an' I know where the' 's some neat ones!" 



