SWIFTFOOT IN NEW YORK
At last the time approached when Mr. Sturgis and Jack were to leave
the ranch and take their departure for the distant east. The weather
had long been growing cooler, and was now cold. The leaves of the
aspens had turned yellow, and one by one had loosed their holds upon
the trees, and twirled slowly toward the ground. The bull elk had
ceased whistling. The deer had taken on their winter coats. The lake
was frozen, and the migrating ducks and geese had gone. Snow storms
were more frequent, and often the ground was white for days at a
time, until some interval of mild weather melted the snow again.
One day, some weeks after the Powells' last visit, Charley had driven
over in the waggon and brought Jack a wolf puppy, now large and well
grown. It was a great grey animal, heavily coated, sleek, smooth, and
in good condition, with a long, pointed head, which looked a little
like that of a collie dog. Though perfectly tame with Charley, the
wolf was shy of strangers, and at first, when approached by Jack or
any of the men at the ranch, seemed timid, and shrank for protection
behind young Powell. Charley had foreseen this, and had arranged to
spend two or three days at the ranch, in order that the wolf might
learn to know his master.
"If I leave him here strange to you, you see," he said, "he'll either
leave you when I go away, and come back to the ranch, or else he'll
run away and become wild, and I don't want to turn no wolves loose
on this range. I tried what Hugh told me to with the pups, and now
they're all tame as the dogs."
While Charley stayed, Jack devoted his whole time to making friends
with the wolf, and everybody at the ranch was as kind to it as
possible. After a day or two Hugh and Jack succeeded in overcoming
the wolf's suspicions, and had no difficulty in calling it to them
and in putting their hands on it. It did not like to be held, and,
at first, if firmly grasped, would struggle and snap, in its effort
to escape, but the biting seemed to be more a threat than an effort
to really bite, and it soon learned that no harm was intended to
it. After the wolf had come to be no longer afraid of Jack, Charley
neglected it, paying it no attention, while Jack fed it, petted
it, and played with it. He was surprised to find how much like a
young dog it was, how readily it responded to his advances, and how
precisely it resembled a dog in the way it showed pleasure, fear, or
suspicion. Hugh made for the wolf a collar of raw-hide, to which, at
first, it objected, trying hard to rub it off against the ground,
and to push it from its neck with its paws, but after a little it
became accustomed to this. Two or three times Jack and Charley
ventured to ride out over the prairie with the wolf following them.
Their rides, though short, were often fast, yet the wolf never seemed
to have any trouble in keeping up with the horses, and sometimes when
they were galloping quite fast it would trot along by the side of one
of them without seeming at all hurried. From this, Jack called him
Swiftfoot.
When it came time for Charley to go, he and Jack parted with not
a little sadness on both sides. They had grown fond of each other
during the summer, and both regretted Jack's coming absence. Charley
looked back a good many times before the waggon disappeared over the
hill, and Jack, who stood at the ranch door, holding Swiftfoot by his
collar, did not turn away until his friend had quite disappeared from
view. The wolf, too, seemed uneasy at the parting, and puzzled as
well. He looked at the waggon, and then at Jack, and wagged his tail,
and once or twice struggled to get away, as if he wished to follow
Charley, but he soon forgot his doubts, and later in the day took
great delight in a game of ball with Jack out on the flat.
A few days later, Mr. Sturgis and Jack left the ranch for the
railroad. Again Hugh drove them in, and with the same team of horses
that had taken them out six months before. Swiftfoot was placed in
a wooden cage, immediately behind the seat of the waggon, where he
would be close to Jack, who petted and talked to him until he had
become a little used to his strange surroundings and to the motion of
the waggon.
When the railroad station was reached, quite a crowd gathered on the
platform to inspect Swiftfoot, but before long the train pulled in,
and the crate holding the wolf was put in the baggage car. The train
had scarcely started before Jack, who was anxious about his pet,
proposed to his uncle that they should go forward and see how the
wolf was getting along, and they did so. The baggage master seemed
very glad to see them. He said to Mr. Sturgis, as soon as he entered
the car: "See here, partner, I don't like that crate you put aboard
here. 'Pears to me it's mighty flimsy, and if that animal in there
takes a notion to break out, he might eat me up. I'm afraid of him."
"Oh," said Mr. Sturgis, "he can't get out, and if he could, he
wouldn't hurt you. Look over there," and he pointed to Jack, who was
sitting on the crate, talking to Swiftfoot, who had his nose through
the bars, licking Jack's hand, and was beating a rapid tattoo on the
sides of the crate with his wagging tail.
"Oh, Uncle Will!" called Jack, "can't I let him out? He's awful
frightened in here, and I think if he had a chance to run up and down
the car a few times, and to make friends with the baggage master, he
wouldn't mind it so much."
"Hold on! hold on, young fellow!" said the baggage-master, "I don't
want to make friends with him. You keep him behind them bars, and
we'll be just as good friends as I want to be."
"Oh, I wish you'd let me take him out, just so that he can smell
around. I'll put a rope on him, and won't let him get away. Come up
here and pat him, and see how friendly he is. He was awful scared,
though, when I first came in. He was all crouched up in one corner of
the box, and his eyes were shining fearfully. He looked savage."
"Why," said the baggage master, who seemed to be recovering his
nerves, "he does seem gentle, don't he?"
"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis, "he's perfectly tame. We've had him around
the ranch there for a long time, but I presume he's frightened at all
the noise and the motion. I really think if you would let the boy
take him out and show him the inside of the car, and would try to
make friends with him yourself, you'd get to like him. I'll make it
worth your while if you do."
The man went up to the cage, and, after a little persuasion by Jack,
patted the head of the wolf, which seemed grateful for attention and
sympathy from anyone. Then he consented that the crate should be
opened and the wolf led about the car by Jack, but while this was
being done, he took his seat on top of a tall pile of trunks which
reached nearly to the roof. Before long, however, he came down from
there and was petting the wolf, seeming almost as much interested
in him as his owner, and when at length Jack put Swiftfoot again in
his crate, the wolf, although howling after him, no longer seemed
terrified, as at first.
Jack made frequent visits to the baggage car, and at each change of
baggage masters, the operation of introducing the new one to the
wolf was repeated. So the journey was made between the West and New
York, but before they reached that city Mr. Sturgis told Jack that
Swiftfoot was by long odds the most expensive piece of baggage that
he had ever carried with him on the road.
* * * * *
In the big depot in New York, where the train come hurrying in,
and from which they hurry out, where there are always crowds of
people going, and other crowds coming, and others, still, waiting
for the arrival of friends, Mr. and Mrs. Danvers stood watching the
passengers that were walking out from the nine-forty express.
"They ought to have come before this, John," said Mrs. Danvers. "Do
you think they could have missed the train?"
"Wait a little;" said her husband; "there come some more people."
Far down the platform they could see a tall man hurrying along, and
by his side a well grown boy, leading an enormous grey dog.
"That looks like Will, but it can't be he, for that isn't Johnny with
him," said Mrs. Danvers.
"No," said her husband, "that isn't our boy."
They continued to watch the distant people as they approached, but
Mrs. Danvers did not see her boy. Suddenly, she was half crushed by
a vigorous embrace, and turning, saw beside her, her son, but a very
different son from him who had left her in the spring. Then, he had
been a little fellow; now, he seemed to her a young man. Then, he was
white, slender and listless; now, he was brown, broad-shouldered and
boisterous. By his side stood a great grey dog, with lowered head and
tail, looking up with suspicious eyes at the hurrying crowds about
him.
"Why, Johnny, Johnny," said his mother, "can this be you? It isn't;
I am sure it isn't. Will Sturgis, what have you done? I want my boy
again. You have brought me a big bear."
Jack's father was hardly less astonished and delighted, but he showed
less excitement.
"Yes," said Mr. Sturgis to his sister, "I have brought you back a
very different boy from the one I took away. I think after you have
had a chance to see him, and to talk with him, you will find that he
is a better boy all around. In fact, I think I can say that when Jack
left here six months ago he stopped being a boy and began to be a
man."
"What is that enormous creature you have there, Johnny?"
"Why, mother, that's Swiftfoot, my tame wolf. He's as gentle as can
be, and I expect you'll find him a real good house dog."
"Come along," said Mr. Danvers; "let us walk home. The night is
fine, and I hardly thought it worth while to have the carriage here.
Bring your checks along and we'll send up for the baggage right away."
Jack and his mother found the walk home a very short one. Mrs.
Danvers took her son's arm and leaned on it, while Jack carried his
rifle and led Swiftfoot with the other hand. He was happy to see
his mother again, and proud to be leading his wolf through New York
streets. He thought what fun it would be to show Swiftfoot to his old
schoolmates here, none of whom had ever seen a wolf, and of how much
he would have to tell them of the western life, about which they knew
nothing.
When they reached the house, Aunt Hannah was lying in wait to bid
her boy welcome. She had nursed him from his tiniest babyhood, and
he was not surprised to have her throw her arms around him and kiss
him, while tears of gladness ran down her cheeks. After a moment
of congratulation from her, he dragged Swiftfoot forward, and
said, "Here Hannah, is a new friend that I want you to like. It's
Swiftfoot, my tame wolf."
"A wolf!" shrieked Hannah. "Oh, lordy!" And she flew through the
dining-room and slammed the pantry door behind her.
Transcriber's note:
Minor spelling inconsistencies, mainly hyphenated words, have been
made consistent.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
A list of illustrations has been added so as to aid the reader.