IN THE WOODS.
It was soon evident that the air of Brookdale agreed with Oscar. He
was fast gaining his strength, and the increased fulness and color of
his countenance betokened returning health. No part of this
improvement was to be attributed to the bottle of cough drops his
mother packed away in the bottom of his valise, and charged him to take
every morning and night; for the drops were not very palatable, and he
had not opened the bottle since he left home. In fact, he had by this
time quite forgotten both the medicine and his mother's injunction.
So rapid was the improvement in Oscar's health, that two or three days
after his trip to the Cross-Roads, Mr. Preston gave his consent to an
excursion he and Jerry had planned, which was to occupy a whole day.
"Old Staple's Hut," as it was called, was the place they proposed to
visit. It was about four miles distant, beyond the hills in the
north-east part of the town, represented in the upper corner of the map
of Brookdale. They were to carry their dinner, and Mrs. Preston
accordingly filled a small basket with eatables. While she was doing
this, Jerry took Oscar aside and said:
"There is one thing more we want, and that is father's gun. I know he
won't let me have it, but I guess he would lend it to you, if you
should ask him."
"Yes, we must have a gun," replied Oscar; "and I should just as lief
ask him for it as not."
Oscar hunted up his uncle, and made known his request. Mr. Preston
hesitated a moment, and then inquired:
"Does your father allow you to use a gun at home?"
"He never says anything about it, either way," replied Oscar.
"Well, I guess you had better not take the gun," said Mr. Preston. "I
'm afraid you might get hurt,--that's all I care about. I don't allow
Jerry to use firearms, and I should n't like to put anything of the
kind into your hands without your father's consent."
"But I 'll be very careful if you 'll let me have it," added Oscar. "I
've fired a gun several times, and know how to handle it."
"No, I think you had better not carry the gun with you," replied his
uncle. "If you used it, Jerry would think he must, and I know he is
too careless to be trusted with it. He 'd shoot you, just as like as
not, if he did n't kill himself."
Mr. Preston's tone was so decided, that Oscar saw it would be useless
to say anything more about the gun, and so he and Jerry were obliged to
abandon the idea of taking it with them. Taking their basket of
provisions, they accordingly set out on their long tramp. Leaving the
road, and turning into a footpath through the fields, they passed close
by the upper edge of the pond. In this part of their walk there was a
good deal of swamp land, and a number of brooks to cross. Sometimes
they had to pick their way along upon stones which had been placed at
regular intervals in wet places, or upon old logs that served for
bridges; and at times it required no little skill in balancing to avoid
getting a wet foot. After they had got beyond the pond, however, the
land gradually ascended, and was mostly occupied as pastures for
cattle. But they still occasionally came to a brook, flowing down from
the hills towards the pond. Most of them were so narrow, they could
easily jump over them; but in one instance they were obliged to take
off their shoes and stockings and wade across.
"Now you see why this place is called Brookdale," said Jerry, after
they had passed four or five of these little streams.
"Is that the reason, because there are so many brooks? I never thought
of that before," said Oscar.
"Yes, that's it," replied Jerry. "In the spring these brooks make
quite a show; but they get low in the summer, and generally dry up in
August, unless it's a very wet season."
"I 'm going to cut me a cane," said Oscar, taking out his knife; "I see
a real straight and handsome one in there," and he pointed to a thicket
they were approaching.
"That's nothing but birch--that won't make a good cane," replied Jerry;
"stop a minute, and I 'll find you something better."
After looking about a little, Jerry found some beeches, which he said
would make good canes. They accordingly cut two of the straightest and
handsomest.
"I mean to try an experiment with mine," said Oscar, "and see if I
can't crook the top of it. Do you know how they do it, Jerry?"
"No, I always thought they grew in that shape," replied Jerry.
"A man told me they boiled the end of the stick and then bent it," said
Oscar. "He said that was the way all the hooked canes were made. I
don't know whether he knew or not, but I mean to try it some day, and
see how it works."
"I don't believe in that," said Jerry. "It is n't very likely you can
bend such a stick as that without breaking it; just see how stiff it
is."
"I don't care, I'll try it, just to satisfy myself," replied Oscar.
Oscar was right in regard to bending wood. The hooked-top
walking-sticks are made in the way he described,--by boiling the end,
and then bending it into an arch. In boiling wood, several substances
which enter into its composition are dissolved, and others are
softened, so that it is rendered flexible.
The boys trudged slowly on their way, now aided by their canes, which,
in a long walk, are of no slight service to the pedestrian. As they
sauntered along, chatting, singing, and whistling, as merrily as the
birds around them, Oscar remembered the cigars he bought at the store,
and soon the pure atmosphere of the fields was polluted with the vile
odor of bad tobacco. Oscar had been in the habit of smoking
occasionally for some time; but though he considered it a manly
accomplishment, he was very careful not to let his parents know that he
was addicted to it. He prevailed upon his cousin to take a cigar; but
Jerry was not very partial to tobacco, and a few whiffs satisfied him
for that occasion.
They had now reached the foot of the long, steep hills, over which they
must climb. These hills were thickly wooded most of the way, forming
beautiful groves, cool, dark, fragrant with resinous odors, and softly
carpeted with moss and decayed leaves. Oscar and Jerry concluded to
rest a few minutes before scaling the hills. Selecting a favorable
spot, they stretched themselves at full length upon the ground, and
looked up towards the distant tree-tops. It was a pine forest, and the
trees were as straight as an arrow, and so tall that their tops almost
seemed among the clouds. The moaning of the wind among the topmost
branches sounded like the distant roar of the sea. Birds were skipping
merrily among the "tasselled boughs," and curiously eying the young
strangers who had invaded their solitude.
"O, how I wish I had that gun now!" said Oscar, as a fine plump robin
lit on one of the lower branches of a tree right over his head.
In repay for this generous wish, Signor Robin executed one of his
choicest songs in his handsomest style, and, without waiting for an
encore from his audience, darted off and was quickly out of sight. But
it is probable the audience thought more of the "good shot" he
presented, than of the sweet strains he poured forth for their
entertainment.
"There's better game than that in these woods," said Jerry, after the
robin had taken his departure.
"Is there anything besides birds?" inquired Oscar.
"Yes," replied Jerry, "there are rabbits, and woodchucks, and weasels,
and skunks, and squirrels; and some folks say there are wild-cats here,
but I don't know about that. Jim Oakley, a fellow who lives about a
mile from our house, comes over here gunning very often; and he says he
saw a real savage-looking creature here, a few weeks ago, that he took
to be a wild-cat. He fired at it, but it got clear of him. He says it
looked a good deal like a cat, only it was larger, and had a little
short tail. I wish he 'd killed it. I should like to know what it
was. I never saw a wild-cat; did you?"
"No," replied Oscar.
"But that was n't equal to something a man came across in the woods the
other side of these hills, two or three years ago," continued Jerry.
"What do you suppose it was?"
"I don't know; was it a moose?" inquired Oscar.
"No," replied Jerry; "moose come down into this neighborhood, once in
awhile, but that was n't what I was going to tell you about. There is
a road through these woods, a little beyond the hills. It is n't
travelled much, except by the loggers in the fall and spring. A man
was riding along this road, one afternoon in summer, when he suddenly
came across a monstrous black bear. As soon as the bear saw him, he
squat down on his haunches, right in the middle of the road, and began
to show his teeth. The man didn't dare to drive by him, and his horse
was so frightened that it was as much as he could do to hold him in.
He had a loaded revolver with him, but he knew there was n't much hope
of killing the bear with that. So he turned his horse about, and
concluded to go back to the nearest house, and get a gun and somebody
to help him kill the bear. The bear sat still, watching him, as much
as to say, 'If you'll let me alone, I 'll let you alone;' but just as
the man was starting up, he thought he would try his pistol, and so he
blazed away at the bear. Two or three of the shot hit the bear in the
shoulder. They did n't hurt him much, only enough to rouse his dander;
but he sprang up as quick as lightning, and started after the team.
The man whipped up his horse, and the bear 'pulled foot' after him, and
did n't give up the race till he had run about a quarter of a mile.
The man said if he had been afoot, the bear would have beat him at
running, but he could n't keep up with the horse.
"Well, the man went back three or four miles, and got another man to go
with him in search of the bear. They armed themselves with guns and
hunting-knives; but when they drove back to where the man met the bear,
they could n't find anything of him. They traced his tracks into the
woods, but after awhile they lost them, and as it was getting late,
they gave up the hunt; and nobody hereabouts has seen that bear from
that day to this."
"Perhaps he's about here now--who knows?" said Oscar.
"No, I guess he went right back to the place he came from," replied
Jerry. "Somebody would have seen him, if he 'd stayed around here."
"Where do you suppose he came from?" inquired Oscar.
"From way back in the woods, fifty miles from here," replied Jerry.
"There had been great fires in the woods that summer, and I suppose he
got burned out, or frightened, and that was the reason he came down
this way."
"I should like to meet such a customer," said Oscar; "only I should
want to have a good double-barrelled gun with me. I read in a
newspaper, the other day, about a boy up in New Hampshire, who met a
bear and two cubs, all alone in the woods. He had a gun with him, and
killed the old one, and one of the cubs, but the other cub got off.
That was doing pretty well, wasn't it?"
"'Twas so," said Jerry; "but I guess you would n't have done quite so
well as that."
"I bet I should have tried, at any rate," said Oscar, who really was
not deficient in courage, though he had hardly practiced hunting enough
to justify him in believing that he could master so savage an animal as
a bear.
Having rested themselves, the boys resumed their journey, and after ten
minutes' hard work, reached the top of the range of hills. The highest
summit was a bare ledge of rock, and they concluded to climb to the top
of it, for the sake of the view to be obtained. It was called
"Prospect Rock," and was very appropriately named. As the boys stood
upon it, the country for miles around was spread out at their
feet,--houses, and cultivated fields, and forests, and roads, and
narrow streams. A distant mountain was visible in the west, which
Jerry said was about twenty miles off, though it seemed much nearer.
After enjoying the scene a few minutes, they began to descend the hill
on the other side. They kept their eyes open, for game, but they saw
only a few squirrels, and one rabbit, which bounded off, and was out of
sight in a moment. Jerry pointed out to Oscar a woodchuck's hole, near
the foot of the hill.
"I should like to see a woodchuck," said Oscar; "what do they look
like?"
"They 're about as big as a rabbit, and are of a brownish color,"
replied Jerry.
"Do you suppose there's one in that hole?" inquired Oscar; "let's see
if we can't scare him out."
"I don't know whether there is or not," replied Jerry; "but if there
was, we could n't dig him out without shovels. They burrow real deep.
If we had brought a dog with us, how he would dig into that hole!"
"I wish I had my Tiger here," said Oscar; "it's too bad father would
n't let me bring him with me."
Oscar thrust his cane into the hole, but did not reach the end of it;
and if the occupant of the tenement was within, he did not think it
worth while to show himself. The boys accordingly renewed their
journey. After they had reached the foot of the hill, they had to
cross a swamp. With its wet and miry bottom, and its dense growth of
vines, bushes, and small trees, this was no easy matter; but they
succeeded in getting through with no damage save wet feet, a few slight
scratches, and a good many mosquito bites. This latter trouble was the
most serious of all. The mosquitoes were large and ferocious. They
bit right through jacket, vest, and all, and Oscar declared that their
sharp stings even penetrated his boots.
After the boys emerged from the swamp, they came to the road in which
the man met a bear. They followed this road a short distance, till it
brought them to the shore of a large and beautiful pond. Leaving the
highway, they now walked along by the edge of the water, and soon came
to the old hut they were in pursuit of. It was but a few rods from the
pond, and was directly under the brow of a steep and rocky hill. It
had a very old and decayed appearance. The roof had fallen in, the
door had disappeared, and the single window was without sash or glass.
It contained but one apartment, and that was very small, and so choked
up with rubbish that the boys did not try to enter.
"Well, that must have been a great place for a man to live in," said
Oscar, after he had inspected the premises. "How long has the old
fellow been dead?"
"I don't know," said Jerry; "it must be fifteen years, for he died
before I was born."
"I wonder what he lived here for; does anybody know?" inquired Oscar.
"No, he was a hermit, and that's all anybody knows about him. They say
he used to have a garden, and raised everything he wanted to eat. In
the summer time he used to work a good deal for two or three farmers
that lived over at Cedar Hill, at the further end of the pond. He had
a little skiff, and rowed back and forth in that. He never used to
spend any money, and people say he must have had all of a thousand
dollars, that he had earned, when he died; but nobody knew what became
of it. They suppose he buried it about here somewhere, or hid it in
some rock."
"A thousand dollars!" said Oscar; "I 'm going to hunt for that; what
will you bet I won't find it?"
"Pooh!" replied Jerry, "people have searched all round here, and dug
holes, and pulled up the floor of the hut, more than a hundred times;
and I guess there's no danger of your finding the money now."
"I 'm going to try, at any rate," said Oscar, and he get up from the
stone upon which he was seated.
"Stop, don't go now," said Jerry; "let's make a fire and get dinner
first--I 'm just about half starved."
Oscar fell in with this suggestion, and they gathered together a lot of
brush and other dry wood, and soon had a good fire kindled against a
large stone, which happened to be hollowed out something like a
fireplace. Among the provisions they had brought with them were half a
dozen potatoes, which they buried in the embers after the fire had got
well under way. While these were baking, they employed themselves in
gathering wood and watching the fire. They also found some slices of
cheese in their basket, which they toasted by holding it before the
fire upon the point of a sharp stick. When their preparations for
dinner were about completed, Oscar inquired:
"Where shall we find some water to drink? Is there a spring about
here?"
"Water, why, there's plenty of it," replied Jerry pointing to the pond.
"What! you don't mean to drink pond water, do you?" said Oscar,
somewhat surprised.
"Yes I do," replied Jerry; "that's good water--old Staples drank it all
the time he lived here."
"Well, come to think of it, I suppose it is good," said Oscar; "for our
Cochituate water, in Boston, is nothing but pond water. It seems
queer, though, to dip it right out of the pond; but I suppose it is
just as good as though we drew it from an aqueduct."
There was a tin dipper in the basket, and Oscar took it, and went down
to the pond, to try the water. He found it clear, and agreeable to the
taste, though not very cold. Filling the dipper, he returned to the
fire, where Jerry now had the dinner in readiness. They found a large
flat stone, which answered for a table, and spreading their provisions
upon it, they threw themselves upon the grass, and began to eat. The
potatoes were nicely roasted, and, indeed, all the articles that helped
to form their rural repast, tasted uncommonly well. Even the pond
water, Oscar confessed, would have been equal to the Cochituate, if
they had only had a little ice to put in it.
[Illustration: The Dinner in the Woods.]
After dinner, Oscar commenced his search for the hidden treasures, and
Jerry, impelled by sympathy, joined in the hunt, though with no very
sanguine expectations of finding the hermit's gold. They examined the
hut, and poked over the rubbish, within and about it. They walked over
the ground, around the cabin, turning over stones, looking after holes
in the trunks of trees, and peering curiously into every crack and
crevice they could find. They then climbed up the rocks behind the
hut, and patiently continued their search, talking earnestly, the
meanwhile, about what they should do with the money, if they found it.
Oscar said if he found the money, he should buy the best horse he could
find. He should not go to school any more, but should spend his time
in riding, and going to places of amusement. If his father did not
like it, he should leave home, and board at a hotel. Jerry, on the
other hand, wanted to see the world. If _he_ found the money, he was
going to travel all over the country. After visiting the great
Atlantic cities, he should go to California, and stop a few months,
just long enough to dig a few thousand dollars out of the mines--and
then he should push on to China, and India, and Europe, and come home
in one of the Collins steamers. It was finally agreed, however, that
if either of them found the treasure, it should be equally divided
between them, and with this friendly understanding, they renewed their
search, with fresh zeal.
"It's real hot; what do you say about going into water?" inquired
Oscar, after they had ransacked the neighborhood pretty thoroughly, and
worked themselves into a perspiration.
"I 'll go in if you will," said Jerry. "Father did n't tell us not to
go in to-day--I was afraid he would; but he did n't say anything about
it."
"He need n't know it, if we do go in," suggested Oscar, who knew very
well that his uncle would not approve of his bathing so early in the
season, and so soon after his sickness.
"No, he won't know anything about it," added Jerry; "and I don't
believe it can do us any hurt, for it is as warm as it is in the middle
of summer. I 've been into water many a time, when it was colder than
it is now."
They did not debate the question long, but throwing off their clothes,
they soon plunged into the clear lake. The water did not feel quite so
warm to their bodies, as it tasted when they washed down their dinner
with it. Still, it was not very cold; and as the place was quite
convenient for bathing, having a hard, gravelly bottom, with a gradual
slope, they enjoyed their dip in the water as well as they _could_
enjoy a forbidden gratification.
After they had dressed themselves, they sat a little while with their
caps off, that the warm sun might dry their hair, and thus remove all
evidence of their stolen pleasure. This accomplished, they concluded,
from the position of the sun, that it was time to start for home; and
taking their basket and canes, they commenced their homeward march.
They met with no incident of any moment in returning, except that they
got off their course at one time; but Jerry, who was quite at home in
the woods, soon found where he was, and set himself right again. The
last two miles of their jaunt were the hardest of all, especially to
Oscar, who was more troubled with sore feet and stiff legs than Jerry.
They were both, however, as tired and hungry as need be, when they got
home.
No questions were asked about their going into water. This was
fortunate, for it probably saved them from the additional guilt of
falsehood. They experienced no punishment for their disobedience,
except the consciousness that they had committed a wrong act. To some
boys, that alone would have been no slight punishment; but I fear this
was not the case with Oscar and Jerry.