WITH PASSING YEARS
Bobby's adventure on the cliff was, after all, but typical of the
adventures that he was regularly getting into, and drawing Jimmy into,
but somehow coming out of unscathed, during these years of his career.
Though he was nearly four years Jimmy's junior, he was invariably the
instigator of their escapades.
Jimmy was inclined to cautiousness, while Bobby had a reckless turn, or
rather failed to see danger. Bobby was naturally a leader, and in spite
of his youth Jimmy instinctively recognized him as such. He could always
overcome Jimmy's scruples and cautions, and with ease and celerity lead
Jimmy from one scrape into another.
But Bobby invariably kept a cool head. He had a steady brain and nerve
and the faculty of quick thought and prompt decision, with a practical
turn of mind. If he got Jimmy and himself into a scrape, he usually got
them out of it again not much the worse for their experience.
Jimmy was imaginative and emotional, and when they were in peril he
could see only the peril, and picture the possible dire results. Bobby,
on the other hand, concentrated his attention upon some practical method
by which they might extricate themselves, losing sight, seemingly, of
what the result might be should they fail to do so.
Bobby had doubtless inherited from his unknown ancestors the peculiar
mental qualities that made him a leader. From Abel he had absorbed the
Eskimo's apparent contempt of danger. Abel, like all Eskimos, was a
fatalist. If he was caught in a perilous position he believed that if
the worst came it would be because it was to be. If he escaped unharmed,
so it was to be. Therefore why be excited? Bobby had as completely
accepted this creed as though he, too, were an Eskimo, for his life and
training with Abel was the life and training of an Eskimo boy.
And so the years passed, and Bobby grew into a tall, square-shouldered,
alert, handsome, self-reliant youth. He was in nearly every respect,
save the color of his skin and the shade of his hair, an Eskimo. He
spoke the language like an Eskimo born, his tastes and his life were
Eskimo, his ambition to be a great hunter--the greatest ambition of his
life--was the ambition of an Eskimo, and he bore the hardships, which to
him were no hardships at all, like an Eskimo. He was much more an
Eskimo, indeed, than the native half-breeds of the coast farther south.
In one respect, however, Bobby was highly civilized. He was a great
reader and an exceptional student. Skipper Ed had seen to this with
singleness of purpose.
To him and Jimmy study was recreation. Mathematical problems were
interesting to them, just as the solution of puzzles interests the boy
in civilization. Just as the boy in civilization will work for hours
upon the solution of a mechanical puzzle, they worked upon problems in
arithmetic and geometry, and with the same gusto. They studied
grammatical construction much as they studied the tracks and the habits
of wild animals. They read the books in Skipper Ed's library with the
feelings and sensations of explorers. In the first reading they were
going through an unknown forest, and with each successive reading they
were retracing their steps and exploring the trail in minute detail and
becoming thoroughly acquainted with the surrounding country.
This may seem very improbable and unnatural to the boy whose studies are
enforced and, because they are compulsory, appeal to him as tedious
duties which he must perform. But nevertheless it was very natural.
Human nature is obstinate and contrary. Tom Sawyer's friends derived
much pleasure from whitewashing the fence, and even paid for the
privilege. Had their parents set them to whitewashing fences they would
have found it irksome work, and anything but play.
Bobby, indeed, had developed two distinct personalities. In his
every-day living he was decidedly an Eskimo; but of long winter
evenings, reading or studying Skipper Ed's books, at home in Abel's
cabin, or in one of the easy chairs in Skipper Ed's cabin, when Skipper
Ed explained to him and Jimmy the things they read, Bobby was as far
removed from his Eskimo personality as could be.
Abel and Mrs. Abel never wavered in their belief that God had sent Bobby
to them from the Far Beyond, through the place where mists and storms
were born. They believed he had been sent to them direct from heaven.
But Bobby was very human, indeed. No one other than Abel and Mrs. Abel
would ever have ascribed to him angelic origin, and as he developed it
must have caused a long stretch of even their imagination to continue
the fiction. There was nothing ethereal about Bobby. His big, husky
frame, his abounding and never-failing appetite, and his high spirits,
were very substantial indeed.
And as Bobby grew, and more and more took part in the bigger things of
life, his adventures grew from the smaller adventures of the boy to the
greater ones of the man.
In this wild land no one knows when he will be called upon to meet
adventure. The sea winds breathe it, it stalks boldly over the bleak
wastes of the barrens, and in the dark and mysterious fastnesses of the
forest it crouches, always ready for its chance to spring forward and
meet you unawares. Adventure, ay, and grave danger too, are wont to show
themselves unexpectedly. And so, one winter's evening, they came to
Skipper Ed and Bobby and Jimmy.