Читать книгу Four-Footed Americans and Their Kin - Mabel Osgood Wright - Страница 18

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ERHAPS you expect that the children immediately began to tease the Doctor about their indoor camp; but more than a week passed, after their visit to Nez, before they had time even to think about their uncle's promise. The next Saturday they went chestnutting, and so it was the first part of November when a cold, cloudy day drove the children indoors and made them knock on the door of the wonder room in quest of their uncle, much as they had done six months before, when they were disputing as to whether or not a bird was an animal.

"We've been trying to get into the old kitchen, but the door is locked, and there are great tight shutters at all the windows," said Dodo, before she had fairly crossed the threshold.

"Which means, I suppose," said the Doctor, "that you are ready to make camp and wish me to help you. I had been wondering how long it would be before you asked me to keep my promise. Go and find Olive, while I get the key."

This old summer kitchen was joined on one side to the main house by a covered passageway, and was quite like a separate building. When the Doctor unlocked the door, the light was so dim that all the children could see was the outline of an enormous chimney, that seemed to be quite in the centre of the room. In a moment, however, Rod came in and threw open the shutters.

"Why, father," said Olive, "I never saw such a chimney anywhere before. How did it come here? Was it put up first and then the room built around it?"

Indeed, the chimney was almost as large as a small room; the open fireplace on one side would allow half a dozen people to sit around the fire, while on the opposite part there was a little iron door.

"What is this?" asked Dodo, promptly opening it.

"That was the brick oven where the pies and bread used to be baked in the olden time."

"But it has a stone floor and is so far from the fire I should think it would have taken most forever for the heat to have gone through; and it's very big."

"The heat didn't come from the fireplace," said Olive. "People used to fill the oven with wood, a great many hours before they wanted to bake, and then when the stones were very hot they would sweep out all the cinders and ashes and pop in the bread and things. The oven was made large so that they might save trouble by baking a quantity of food at once."

"Why, then, in those old times living was something like camping out, wasn't it, Uncle Roy?" said Nat.

"Very much, but it made the people quick-witted, hardy, and self-reliant, ready for any emergency that might happen, just as the wild out-door life does."

"Oh, look at the floor!" exclaimed Dodo; "it's made of bricks set in a wiggly pattern, with sand in the cracks; and the beams show overhead, and there's no plaster on the walls."

"I think we could make a really wild-looking place of this, if we only had some skins, and antlers, and guns, and such things," said Olive, walking about the room quite as much excited as her little cousins.

Rod had taken all the rubbish away and made the room clean, but the Doctor wished the young people to have the pleasure of fitting it up themselves.

"Come up in the attic and out in the lumber room in the barn, and I think we shall find what we need; meanwhile Rod will start a fire."

In half an hour or so the procession returned, every one carrying something, while Mr. Blake and the Doctor brought in an old-fashioned settle—a sort of table with a top that tips back and a box underneath, making a very comfortable seat. This they placed in the middle of the room facing the fire, and then went back for two long benches, such as were once used in country schools.

"May we have one chair with a back for mother to use when she comes?" asked Dodo, who had been told that in a real camp there was little or no furniture.

"Aren't there to be any bunks?" pleaded Nat. "Rap and I thought we should like to try sleeping out here some time."

"Not so fast," said the Doctor. "Here, Olive, I will drive some nails in the chimney cracks and you can hang up the pots and pans and tin cups, for you will use the same kit that we took to the woods. Now for the skins," and the Doctor began to unroll several bundles that smelt of camphor, which had filled the biggest cedar chest in the attic.

"Beast skins!" said Nat, "all kinds, shaggy, and bushy, and hairy. Oh, do tell us what they belong to, uncle?"

"Not now; we will hang them up around our camp, and you shall learn about each in turn, for though some are but fragments, every one has a story."

"Do those horns that papa is bringing belong with the skins?" asked Dodo, as Mr. Blake brought in a pair of smooth, curved horns, like those of some enormous bull, and also a pair of branching antlers that ended in little twig-like points.

"The smooth horns belong with this shaggy skin," said the Doctor. "I will fasten them up over the fireplace. Have you ever seen a beast with such a coat and horns?"

"They might belong to a big wild cow," said Nat.

"I know," said Dodo. "Oh, Nat, Why didn't you guess the Wild West Show and the Buffaloes?"

"Here are a lot of little skins, like Squirrels' without much tail, and one like a big, striped pussy cat. Oh, how can we wait to hear about them all! I shall keep wondering and guessing. It's worse than the puzzles in St. Nicholas. What a glorious fire, too,—as big as the one Nez made in the wood; and there is a hook that swings out to hold the kettle, so when we want to cook, we only have to fix two logs to hold the pots the same as Nez did. But there are not enough ashes to bury potatoes."

"We can save the ashes," said Olive, "until we have a great heap of them."

"So we can, and these benches go into the chimney on each side, so we can sit in there if it grows cold, or if we need to watch the cooking."

"Now some hooks and nails in that corner for your mop, dish-rags, and dish-pan, and you are ready for housekeeping," said the Doctor.

"All except the broom," said Olive. "Nez had fresh hemlock twigs tied to a stick; but the hemlocks are too scarce here to be used in that way."

"I will tell Rod to tie you a birch broom. That is what Grandma Hunter always used on this sanded brick floor. If there is anything else wanting, you can look for it yourselves."

Long before they had finished admiring their camp the dinner bell rang, and they hurried to tidy themselves, wondering how the morning had galloped away. Nat, who could hardly finish his pudding before going back to camp, came running in, his eyes ablaze with questions.

"Daddy! daddy! Rod has taken your gun rack from the back entry into camp, and there is a little rifle in it that I've never seen before; and when I asked him what it was for, he said, 'For you and Rap to hunt big game with.' I told him that there wasn't any big game near here, and he said: 'Yes, there's a Deer down between the birches in the long pasture. I saw it there just now.' Won't you please come and see, quick, before it gets away; though I don't think it would be nice to shoot it, for it's company, and there's only one, and we can't even pretend that we need it for food. Please hurry, or it may run away."

"I don't think it will go, and I am quite willing that you should shoot it," said the Doctor.

Olive looked at her father in surprise, but his face told nothing. Dodo suspected something, and ventured, "I think it must be a tame Deer you have brought to teach us with."

"No, it can't be," said Nat. "Uncle would never be so cruel as to shut up a tame Deer to be shot."

"Don't you think we had better go and see, instead of talking?" said Mr. Blake. "There goes Rod down the hill now. Who knows but what he will get the first shot."

"I see it!" cried Nat; "a real big Deer with curly horns, I mean antlers, and a skin about the color of a donkey's. See, Olive, it stands between the birches right against the side hill."

"Oh, it's moving," wailed Dodo.

"It has gone. Rod has frightened it," shouted Nat.

"Yes, it has disappeared, surely," said the Doctor. "We might go and see what Rod has to say for himself."

"It is behind the trees, I can see its legs," said Olive, as they reached the pasture. "It's backing in between the trees again. Why, father, it's a big target shaped like a Deer!"

So it was. The animal was first sawed out of wood, then fastened together with movable legs, after the fashion of a jumping Jack. Then it was padded a little and covered with stout sail-cloth, which was painted so that at a short distance it really looked like the animal itself. The cleverest thing about it was the way in which it hung by cords, from a pole fastened between the trees, in such a way that it could be pulled to and fro, so that the marksman could have the excitement of shooting at a moving object.

"Who made it?" asked Dodo, after they had recovered from their surprise. "It looks very like one of the animals in my Noah's Ark, only bigger."

"I did," said Mr. Blake; "and it is the common American Deer, though I suspected your uncle would ask if it was a Rhinoceros."

"Oh, no, daddy; it isn't as queer as that," said Nat, wondering why his uncle laughed so. "It will be bully—no, I mean jolly—to shoot at; and when we've plunked it all to pieces, perhaps you would make us a Bear or a Wild Cat, so that we can tell where to shoot each one. Please, could I have the little gun and try now?"

"Yes; Rod will bring it. There, isn't it a beauty? A Ballard repeater! See how the lock drops, and you put in the cartridges so. Stop! that will never do; you were pointing the barrel almost at Dodo. The first thing you must remember about a gun is never to point it at any one, even if you are sure it is not loaded; and the second thing is always to drop the lock and make sure it is empty before you put it away.

"Now watch me put in the cartridges. So, now close the lock and pull the trigger back half-way, put the butt against your right shoulder, so, bring that little pinhole sight, on your gun barrel, in a straight line between your eye and the Deer back of its shoulder. Now, hold fast and pull the trigger."

Bang! Dodo screamed and put her fingers in her ears. Nat looked eagerly, fully expecting to have blown the Deer to bits, but he had not touched it.

"You shut your eyes tight and fired almost straight up into the sky," laughed Olive, who was quite a clever shot herself.

"I don't like a gun," said Dodo. "Is there any kind of anything that I could shoot at an animal target, that wouldn't make such a noise?"

"A good bow and some arrows are what you need, missy," said her father; "and I'll make you a beautiful, fat pig for a target. Come up to the barn and I'll do it now."

In a few minutes Mr. Blake had filled a feed bag hard with cut hay, tied up one of the lower corners to make a curly tail, made ears of corn husks, a face of a huge beet, and legs of corn-cobs.

"Now, Dodo, I'll put this in a nice place against the stone fence, where it can't fall over if it gets tired of standing, and you may shoot to your heart's content. You can play that it is a Peccary,—the wild American cousin of Sausage and all other farm pigs."

"Are there any about here?"

"Oh, no; fortunately for us, they live now in small herds down on the southeast plains of Texas and westward along the Mexican border, for they are ugly, savage, slab-sided little wild pigs, with a light collar around the neck like a rope mark, sly, keen eyes, and a pair of small tusks sharp enough to cut a man's leg in the thickest part, or rip the throat of any poor dog who is forced to hunt them. Once they were plentiful enough to be of value for their hides and bristles, and hunting them is still considered good sport by some people.

"The Peccary looks innocent enough as it walks along on the points of its hoofs, or wallows in the shady marshes of the river bottoms, its mouth gaping in a foolish fashion; but if it sees you—watch out. If your gun misses, you had better run, even if you have to take to a cactus patch, for, appropriately enough, prickles and Peccaries grow in the same places, and they are both painful things to encounter."

Dodo was delighted to think her target was a wild cousin of Sausage's, and flew into the house to tell her mother and promise her the first shot at the Peccary, as soon as she should have her bow and arrows. Then she flew out again to coax her father to make her a good tight bow, which he soon did out of a hickory sapling and some of his pet fish-line. Nat, who meanwhile disappeared, soon returned with Rap, and everything had to be shown and explained once more.

Rap handled the rifle very carefully, as one having had experience, and then took up the other small gun which Nat had overlooked.

"How is it different from the other?" asked Nat.

"It has two barrels instead of one," said Rap, "and the cartridges hold a lot of shot instead of bullets. It is for shooting little things."

"Why is a lot of shot better than a good bullet?" asked Nat.

"Shot spreads out, and is more likely to hit a small object than a bullet that only strikes in one place. If we ever go up to see Nez and hunt Rabbits, this is the gun we shall need," said the Doctor.

The Collared Peccary.

After they had practised awhile, Rap had succeeded in hitting the Deer twice, but it now began to rain in earnest, and they returned to the camp.

"Hush!" said Dodo, as they were coming through the corner door toward the fireplace. "See, we have company! Look at that Mouse sitting by the edge of the hearth; it's as friendly as anything, and it isn't a common mouse-trap Mouse, either. Look what big eyes it has, and a lovely brown back, and its feet are white, like clean stockings."

White-footed or Deer Mouse.

The Mouse sat up and began to clean its paws and wash its face daintily, while the children watched it and Olive tiptoed out to call her father.

"It is a White-footed or Deer Mouse," said the Doctor, "so called because it has a tawny back. Dodo is right, it is not a 'common mouse-trap Mouse,' though in some places it does often live in our houses. It also makes its nests under tree roots and sometimes in old birds' nests. I will set a trap for it, and then we can look at it closely."

"Yes, uncle, but please not a choke trap; it's too pretty. We could look at it ever so much better if we caught it in one of those little house-traps, with a wheel for it to run around in—that they sell at the store. I can shake enough money out of my bank to buy one, because I haven't shaken it for nearly two months."

"No need of that; there are some old traps up garret that Rod may clean for you, and a Squirrel cage too, I think. I am willing for you to have a few such winter pets here in camp, if you care for them properly. It is no harm to keep a Squirrel or a Coon as a well-fed captive in the hungry winter season, if you let them go again before they pine for freedom. Remember, this camp is to be the place for your treasures, summer and winter.

"There is plenty of room in those empty dresser shelves for all the sticks and stones and empty nests you find, that would only be in the way and make a litter in the house."

"Mousey has gone down between the bricks!" exclaimed Dodo. "Is the Deer Mouse a four-footed American, Uncle Roy?"

"Yes, a true native, but the common, brown House Mouse and Rat are the children of foreign parents, who sneaked over here like stowaways, in bales of merchandise, and have now spread from the seaports, like tramps, all over the land.

"By the way, young folks, what shall we call our camp? It should certainly have a name. You shall have first choice, Olive, as Dodo named the wonder room."

"We might call it after some animal that lives around here," suggested Nat, as Olive hesitated.

"Woodchuck or Fox or Skunk aren't nice names," said Dodo, "though we might call it after the Squirrels."

"What is the very wisest, cleverest fourfoot in our America?" asked Nat.

"The Beaver," said the Doctor; "he thinks, plans, and works, and his house is quite worthy of the skill of a two-handed engineer."

"Then Beaver would be a good name for the camp, only there are none hereabout."

"It would be if it was a go-to-school, working, woodcutter's camp," said Mr. Blake; "but it is too solemn a name for a jolly holiday affair like this."

"I have it," said Olive, the idea coming to her as Mr. Blake spoke; "call it Camp Saturday!"

A clapping of hands followed, that made the room echo and the little Deer Mouse shiver in his hole.

"Let's begin now! We've had our shooting—now let us cook supper and tell stories!" cried Dodo, eagerly.

"Not to-day," said the Doctor; "your mother has still some preparations to make; but instead of waiting for the first snow, as I once said, we will have a big game hunt a week from to-day at two o'clock, and at six we will have our first supper in Camp Saturday."