It was like any one of a thousand visits he had made there. Annette met
him at the door.
"Why, of all things!" said she. "What have you here?"
"C'ris'mus p-present, Lady Ann," said he.
It should be said that with Silas a gift was a "Christmas present" every
day in the year--the cheerful spirit of that time being always with him.
He proudly put the cage in her hands.
"Much obliged to you, Sile," said she, laughing.
"S-Strong's ahead!" he stammered, cheerfully.
This indicated that in his fight with the powers of evil Strong felt as
if he had at least temporary advantage. When, perhaps, after a moment of
anger it seemed that the Evil One had got the upper hold on him, he was
wont to exclaim, "Satan's ahead!" But the historian is glad to say that
those occasions were, in the main, rare and painful.
"Strong will never give in," said Annette, with laughter.
Strong's affection was expressed only in signs and tokens. Of the former
there were his careful preparation for each visit, and many sighs and
blushes, and now and then a tender glance of the eye. Of tokens there
had been many--a tame fox, ten mink-skins, a fawn, a young thrush, a
pancake-turner carved out of wood, and other important trifles. For
twenty years he had been coming, but never a word of love had passed
between them.
Silas sat in a strong wooden chair. Under the sky he never thought of
his six feet and two inches of bone and muscle; now it seemed to fill
his consciousness and the little room in which he sat. To-day and
generally he leaned against the wall, a knee in his hands as if to keep
himself in proper restraint.
"Did you just come to bring me that squirrel?" Annette inquired.
"No," he answered.
"What then?"
"Squirrel come t' b-bring me."
"Silas Strong!" she exclaimed, playfully, amazed by his frankness.
He put his big hand over his face and enjoyed half a minute of silent
laughter.
"Silas Strong!" she repeated.
"Present,"'said he, as if answering the call of the roll, and sobering
as he uncovered his face.
In conversation Silas had a way of partly closing one eye while the
other opened wide beneath a lifted brow. The one word of the Emperor was
inadequate. He was, indeed, present, but he was extremely happy also, a
condition which should have been freely acknowledged. It must be said,
however, that his features made up in some degree for the idleness of
his tongue. He brushed them with a downward movement, of his hand, as
if to remove all traces of levity and prepare them for their part in
serious conversation.
"All w-well?" he inquired, soberly.
"Eat our allowance," said she, sitting near him. "How's Miss Strong?"
"S-supple!" he answered. Then he ran his fingers through his blond hair
and soberly exclaimed, "Weasels!"
This remark indicated that weasels had been killing the poultry and
applying stimulation to the tongue of Miss Strong. Silas had sent her
fowls away to market the day before.
"Too bad!" was the remark of Lady Ann.
"Fisht?" By this word Silas meant to inquire if she had been fishing.
"Yesterday. Over at the falls--caught ten," said she, getting busy with
her knitting. "B-big?"
"Three that long," she answered, measuring with her thread.
He gave a loud whistle of surprise, thought a moment, and exclaimed,
"M-mountaneyous!" He used this word when contemplating in imagination
news of a large and important character.
"How have you been?"
"Stout," he answered, drawing in his breath.
Annette rose and seemed to go in search of something. The kindly gray
eyes of Silas Strong followed her. A smile lighted up his face. It was
a very plain face, but there was yet something fine about it, something
which invited confidence and respect. The Lady Ann entered her own room,
and soon returned.
"Shut yer eyes," said she.
"What f-for?"
"Chris'mas present."
Silas obeyed, and she thrust three pairs of socks into his coat-pocket.
With a smile he drew them out. Then a partly smothered laugh burst
from his lips, and he held his hand before his face and shook with good
feeling.
"S-socks!" he exclaimed.
"There are two parts of a man which always ought to be kep' warm--his
heart an' his feet," said she.
Silas whacked his knee with his palm and laughed heartily, his wide eye
aglow with merriment. His expression quickly turned serious.
"B-bears plenty!" he exclaimed, as he felt of the socks and looked
them over. This remark indicated that a season of unusual happiness and
prosperity had arrived.
Worked in white yarn at the top of each leg were the words, "Remember
me."
"T-till d-death," he whispered.
"With me on your mind an' them on your feet you ought to be happy," said
Annette.
"An' w-warm," he answered, soberly.
Presently she read aloud to him from the _St. Lawrence Republican_.
"S-some day," said Silas, when at last he had risen to go.
"Some day," she repeated, with a smile.
The only sort of engagement between them lay in the two words "some
day." They served as an avowal of love and intention. Amplified, as it
were, by look and tone as well as by the pressure of the hand-clasp,
they were understood of both.
To-day as Annette returned the assurance she playfully patted his cheek,
a rare token of her approval.
Silas left her at the door and made his way down the dark road. He began
to give himself some highly pleasing assurances.
"S-some day--tall t-talkin'," he stammered, in a whisper, and then he
began to laugh silently.
"Patted my cheek!" he whispered. Then he laughed again.
At the store he had filled his pack with flour, ham, butter, and like
provisions for Lost River camp. At Annette's he had filled his heart
with renewed hope and happiness and was now prepared for the summer.
While he walked along he fell to speculating as to whether Annette could
live under the same roof with Cynthia. A hundred times he had considered
whether he could ask her, and as usual he concluded, "Ca-can't."
The hunter had an old memorandum-book which was a kind of storehouse
for thought, hope, and reflection. Therein he seemed always to regard
himself objectively and spoke of Strong as if he were quite another
person. Before going to bed that evening he made these entries:
_"June the 23. Strong is all mellered up.
"Snags."_
With him the word "meller" meant to soften, and sometimes, even, to
conquer with the club.
The word "snags" undoubtedly bore reference to the difficulties that
beset his way.
V
SILAS and his sister ate their breakfast by candle-light and were off
on the trail before sunrise, a small, yellow dog of the name of
Zeb following. Zeb was a bear-dog with a cross-eye and a serious
countenance. He was, in the main, a brave but a prudent animal. One day
he attacked a bear, which had been stunned by a bullet, and before he
could dodge the bear struck him knocking an eye out. Strong had put it
back, and since that day his dog had borne a cross-eye.
Zeb had a sense of dignity highly becoming in a creature of his
attainments. This morning, however, he scampered up and down the trail,
whining with great joy and leaping to lick the hand of his master.
"Sinth" walked spryly, a little curt in her manner, but passive and
resigned. Silas carried a heavy pack, a coon in a big cage, and led a
fox. When he came to soft places he set the cage down and tethered the
fox, and, taking Sinth in his arms, carried her as one would carry a
baby. Having gained better footing, he would let Sinth down upon a log
or a mossy rock to rest and return for his treasures. After two or three
hours of travel the complaining "Mis' Strong" would appear.
"Seems so ye take pleasure wearin' me out on these here trails," she
would say. "Why don't ye walk a little faster?"
"W-whoa!" he would answer, cheerfully. "Roughlocks!"
The roughlock, it should be explained, was a form of brake used by
log-haulers to check their bobs on a steep hill. In the conversation of
Silas it was a cautionary signal meaning hold up and proceed carefully.
"You don't care if you do kill me--gallopin' through the woods here jes'
like a houn' after a fox. I won't walk another step--not another step."
"Rur-roughlocks!" he commanded himself, as he tied the fox and set the
coon down.
"Won't ride either," she would declare, with emphasis.
"W-wings on, Mis' Strong?" Silas had been known to ask, in a tone of
great gentleness.