THE MUSEUM.
"It beats anything I ever heard of. Do you suppose that Oscar Preston
really killed a grizzly bear and saved his guide's life?"
"Of course he did. Sam Hynes received a letter last February that
contained a full account of it."
"Why didn't he tell the fellows then?"
"Because Oscar asked him to keep it secret. He didn't want his mother to
know anything about it, for fear it would frighten her, and Sam told no
one but Mr. Chamberlain."
"Who would have thought that Oscar had so much in him? We fellows have
associated with him for years, and none of us ever imagined that he had
pluck enough to face the most terrible animal on this continent, and
nerve enough to kill him with a single bullet! It's just wonderful!"
That was the opinion of all the Eaton boys, who often talked in this
way among themselves after Oscar returned from his memorable trip to the
foot-hills, and all the thrilling incidents connected with his life
there had become known. And they became known very speedily.
Oscar's safe return abrogated the command he had laid upon his friend
Sam Hynes to say nothing about the contents of his letters, and the
successful young hunter had scarcely entered his mother's door before
Sam proceeded to "unload"--in other words, to get rid of numerous
secrets to which he could hold fast no longer, and to publish abroad a
full history of everything Oscar had done during his absence.
He was able to make his statements accurate in every particular, for
Oscar had kept nothing from him.
"You can't always tell about these things," Sam would frequently remark.
"You don't know what there is in a fellow until he has been tested. It
isn't the bully of the town, the loud-mouthed braggart, or the ruffian
who is always ready to fight somebody smaller than himself who stands
up to the rack when it comes to such business as Oscar Preston had on
hand that January afternoon. I always knew that boy had uncommon nerve.
He has made a reputation already that will last longer than he will."
Our friend Oscar had indeed made a name for himself. He was the lion of
the village, and, strange to say, nobody was jealous of him.
That miserable spirit of detraction which so often comes to the surface
on occasions like this never exhibited itself but once, and then it was
promptly knocked out of time by Sam Hynes, who "laid out" one of the
"river boys" for saying that _he_ didn't believe that Oscar Preston had
brought any bear back with him, but if he had it had been killed by a
silver bullet.
The young hunter heard words of commendation and encouragement on all
sides, but we doubt if any of them sent such a thrill to his heart as
the simple, "Thank you, Oscar; I shall keep it always to remember you
by," which he heard from the lips of Sam Hynes' pretty sister when he
presented her with the antelope-skin he had brought home on purpose for
her.
There was another thing that astonished everybody, and that was the fact
that Oscar had found his brother Tom, the defaulting bookkeeper, hidden
away in those Western wilds, and that he had returned some of the money
out of which he had swindled Smith & Anderson.
Tom, as we know, had hired out to herd sheep for Ike Barker. He did his
duty as well as he knew how, and every few weeks a letter arrived from
his employer, containing the welcome intelligence that he was faithfully
living up to every promise he had made his brother.
Oscar was very glad to find himself in Eaton once more. After the toil
and excitement of his winter in the hills he thoroughly enjoyed the
quiet comforts of his home.
Everything in and about the village looked just as it did when he left
it. All his old friends were there to greet him, including Bugle, who
was so overjoyed to see his master once more that he could not be
induced to leave him for a moment. He kept close at his heels during the
day, and slept beside his bed at night. Oscar took two weeks to rest in,
and that gave him and Sam Hynes two Saturdays to spend together.
The first they passed in the woods, in company with Bugle; and although
they took their guns with them, they brought back the same loads that
were in them when they started out.
They did not go into the woods to shoot. They wanted to be alone, so
that they could talk over old times and tell each other everything that
had happened during their long separation.
The next Saturday they spent on the river; and as it was too late in the
season for ducks, they took their fishing-rods with them.
The perch and rock bass were biting finely, and Oscar caught a
good-sized string; while Sam, who wanted to talk and did not care much
for fishing anyway, reclined at his ease on one of the thwarts and
watched his friend as he drew in the shining beauties.
On Monday of the third week Oscar bade his mother and Sam good-by and
set out for Yarmouth.
He had already been there to report his arrival to the committee, and it
was by the permission of the secretary that he took his two weeks'
vacation.
He knew that he had brought back a goodly number of specimens (he had
secured a great many that we did not speak of in "The Camp in the
Foot-Hills," for the reason that there was no incident worthy of note
connected with their capture), but he was really surprised when he saw
the boxes that were piled in the museum.
It took Oscar a long time to put his specimens in shape. It was
particular work, and as he knew that it would stand as long as the
museum did, he was careful that it should be done well.
No one saw him at his labor except the students and the faculty; and the
young taxidermist sometimes wished that they would keep out of his
hearing, especially President Potter, who gave such entertaining
lectures on the nature and habits of the various animals comprising the
collection that Oscar was always obliged to stop and listen to him.
Still these interruptions were not without benefit to him.
He learned more about natural history during those brief lectures than
he had ever learned before in all his life. It was a joyous day for
Oscar when, after almost seven months of steady work, he put away his
tools and bent his steps toward his boarding-house, leaving the museum
in charge of some of the students, who were busy decorating it in
readiness for a "hoe-down," as they called it, that was to come off
there that night.
Everything was done to the entire satisfaction of the committee and of
Mr. Adrian, the gentleman through whose liberality the museum was
founded; and on this particular evening the doors were to be thrown open
to the public, and there was to be a supper and afterward a dance.
The students who were at the head of the matter had acquaintances and
friends in Eaton, and a good many invitations had been sent there.
When the five o'clock train came these invited guests came with
it--Oscar's mother and Mr. Hynes and his family being among the number.
Oscar met them at the depot, accompanied them to a hotel, and then he
and Sam--the latter having received a wink he readily
understood--managed to separate themselves from the party and to reach
the sidewalk without attracting attention.
"I want you to see it first," said Oscar as he took his friend by the
arm and hurried him away. "If I do say it myself, you will find some
good work there."
Sam was astonished at what he saw. There were four rooms in the museum,
the largest being devoted to Oscar's specimens. Against the walls were
placed huge cabinets, with glass doors. These were partly filled with
the smaller specimens, all of which were stuffed, mounted, and arranged
in the most artistic manner; but Sam scarcely bestowed a second glance
upon them, for his attention was at once fixed by what Oscar called his
"masterpieces," which were placed at intervals along the middle of the
room.
There were three of them, the first being the grizzly, which had so
nearly made an end of Big Thompson.
The position the animal assumed on that memorable afternoon, while he
was awaiting the guide's approach, was firmly fixed in Oscar's memory,
and he had succeeded in reproducing it exactly.
So life-like did the grizzly look as he stood there on his platform,
with his mane erect, his ears thrown forward, and his glaring eyes
fastened on a cabinet on the opposite side of the room, that Sam could
hardly bring himself to believe that it was safe to approach him.
The next specimen was the lordly elk that Big Thompson's
hunting-dog--the dog that was called Pink on account of the color of his
hair, which was black--had beguiled to his death.
He stood with his head raised, and looking defiantly about him, just as
he had looked when he followed Pink out of the bushes.
The third was a group representing a fight between a big-horn and two
gray wolves. One of the assailants was struggling on the ground, having
been knocked down by a well-directed blow, and the gallant buck was
making a dead set for the other, which stood with his ears laid back and
all his teeth visible, awaiting the attack.
But these "masterpieces" were not the only objects of interest that were
to be seen, as Sam found when he came to look about him.
A hungry-looking wolf grinned at him from a corner; a stately
black-tail, with lowered head and bristling mane, threatened him with
his antlers as he entered an alcove; and a bald eagle glared down at him
from his perch over one of the doors, warning him, as plainly as an
inanimate object could, to keep his hands off the flag it was grasping
in its talons.
When he paused in front of the cabinets the squirrels, that were
gathering their winter supply of nuts, the fox, that was watching a duck
he wanted to catch for his dinner, the birds, that were building their
nests, and the beavers, that were repairing their winter quarters--all
looked at him as if to ask what he meant by intruding his unwelcome
presence upon them.
In short, Sam was delighted with everything he saw, and more than once
declared that he believed some of the birds and animals were alive. He
could have paid his friend no higher compliment.