WORK AND PLAY
Henry and Ross were gone to the mainland, and Paul, Shif'less Sol, and Jim
Hart were left on the island. Shif'less Sol stood at the edge of the
hollow, hands on hips, admiring the hut.
"Paul," he said, "I think that thar house is jest about the finest I ever
built."
"You built!" exclaimed Jim Hart indignantly. "Mighty little you had to do
with it, Sol Hyde, but eat in it an' sleep in it, which two things you are
willin' enough to do any time! It's me an' Paul who have reared that gran'
structure."
"It appeals to my instincts as an eddicated man," went on Sol, calmly
disregarding Jim. "We've got up the house without sp'ilin' the
surroundin's. It jest blends with rock an' bush, an' we've helped natur'
without tryin' to improve it."
"I believe you've got the truth of it, Sol," said Paul. "I'm getting fond
of this place. How long do you think we'll stay here, Sol?"
Shif'less Sol cocked up his weather eye, and a look of surpassing wisdom
came over his face.
"When the ground hog come out o' his hole in the fall an' saw his shadder,
he went right back ag'in," he replied, "an' that means a hard winter.
Besides, we're pretty far north, an' all the hunters say they have lot o'
snow hereabouts. We're goin' to have cold an' snow right along. That's the
opinion o' me, Solomon Hyde. Jim Hart may say somethin' else, but he ain't
worth listenin' to."
"I said this mornin' that it wuz goin' to be a hard winter," growled Jim
Hart. "You heard me sayin' so, an' that's the reason you're sayin' so
now."
"Oh, Jim, Jim! Whatever will become o' you?" exclaimed Shif'less Sol
sadly. "An' I've always tried to teach you that the truth wuz the right
thing."
Paul laughed.
"Sol," he asked, "did you ever see a game of chess?"
"Chess? What's that? Is it a mark you shoot at?"
"No; you play it on a board with little figures made of wood, if you
haven't got anything else. My father has a set of chessmen, and he plays
often with Mr. Pennypacker, our school teacher. He's played with me, too,
and I can show you how to make the things and to play."
A look of interest came into Sol's eyes.
"We've got lots o' time," he said. "S'pose you do it, Paul. I know I kin
learn. I ain't so sure o' Jim Hart thar."
Jim was also interested, so much so that he forgot to reply to Shif'less
Sol.
"How'll you do it?" he asked.
Paul's reply was to begin at once. He cut a big square piece of white
fanned deerskin, and upon this he marked the little squares with
coal-black. Then the three of them went to work with their sharp hunting
knives, carving out the wooden figures. The results were crude, but they
had enough shape for identification, and then Paul began to teach the game
itself.
Sol and Jim were really men of strong intellect, and they had plenty of
patience. Paul was surprised at their progress. They were soon thinking
for themselves, and when Paul himself did not want to play, the two would
fight it out over the deerskin.
"It's a slow game, but good," said Shif'less Sol. "It 'pears to me that a
man to be at the head o' 'em all in this would hev to do nothin' else all
his life."
"That is so," said Paul.
"Jim, thar ain't no earthly chance for you," said Shif'less Sol.
"I guess I've got you this time, anyhow," said Jim, with a deep chuckle of
satisfaction. "Jest look at that thar board, Sol Hyde. Ef you ain't druv
into a corner so you can't move this way nor that, then you can hev the
huntin' shirt right off my back."
Shif'less Sol examined the deerskin square attentively.
"Blamed ef it ain't so," he said in a tone of deep disgust. "It wuz an
accident, nuthin' but an accident, or else I've been talkin' too much."
"That's what you're always doin', Sol Hyde--talkin' too much."
"Then we'll jest try it over ag'in, an' I'll show you what it is to play
ag'inst a real smart man."
They were deep in a fresh game a few moments later, and Paul went outside.
He was glad to see them so interested, because he knew that otherwise the
curse of dullness might fall upon them.
The air was raw and chill, and, although the snow and ice were gone, the
lake and the hills beyond looked singularly cold. But Paul was neither
uncomfortable nor unhappy. He was clothed warmly, and he had food in
abundance and variety. Trusty comrades, too, surrounded him. Life at
present seemed very pleasant.
He strolled up the island toward the trees that contained the Indian
bodies, and after a while returned toward the home in the hollow. A warm,
mellow light gleamed from its rude window, and Paul's heart throbbed with
something of the feeling that one has only toward "home."
He opened the door and entered, just in time to hear Shif'less Sol's cry
of triumph:
"Thar, Jim Hart, ef that don't settle you, I'd like to know what will!
Now, who's doin' too much talkin'?"
"I can't see jest how it happened," said Jim Hart ruefully.
"No, an' you never will. Them things are too deep fur you. It's only
eddicated men, like me an' Paul, that kin see to the bottom o' 'em."
"You're even, as it's game and game," said Paul, "so let's rest now. Henry
and Tom ought to be coming pretty soon."
"An' they'll be ez hungry ez a hull pack uv wolves," said Jim Hart, "so I
guess I'd better be cookin'. Here, Sol, give me them strips uv deer meat
an' buffalo."
"I shorely will," said Shif'less Sol. "Thar is one thing, ef it is only
one, that you kin do well, Jim Hart, an' it's cook."
The two, in the most friendly fashion, went about preparing the supper.
They had many kinds of game to choose from, and once Ross had brought a
bag of ground corn, perhaps taken by stealth from an Indian village, and
now and then Jim made from it a kind of bread. He was to bake some
to-night, in honor of the returning two, and soon the place was filled
with pleasant odors.
Twilight was deepening, the supper was almost ready, and Paul went forth
to see if Henry and Tom were yet in sight. Presently he saw them
coming--two black figures against the setting sun, with the body of a deer
that they had killed and dressed. He hastened to meet them and give them a
helping hand, and together they approached the house.
First they swung the body of the deer from a bough, and then they opened
the door. Deep silence reigned within. No friendly voice greeted them. The
heads of Jim Hart and Shif'less Sol almost touched over a square of
deerskin, at which both were looking intently. With the supper ready, and
nothing else to do, they had got out the chessmen, and were playing the
rubber. So absorbed were they that they neither heard nor saw.
"Now what under the sun is this?" exclaimed Tom Ross.
"It's a game I taught 'em while you and Henry were gone," explained Paul.
"It's called chess."
Shif'less Sol and Jim sprang up, but Sol quickly recovered his presence of
mind.
"I jest about had him cornered, an' your comin' saved him," he said.
"Cornered!" said Jim Hart. "He ain't even seed the day when he kin beat
me!"
The chessmen were put aside for the time, and five hungry beings ate as
only borderers could eat. Then Tom Ross demanded a look at the game. After
the look he asked for instruction.
"I saw a set uv them fellers once when I wuz at Fort Pitt," he said, "but
I never thought the time would come when I'd play with 'em. Push up the
fire thar a little, will you, Jim, so I kin see better."
Paul and Henry looked at each other and smiled. Soon Tom himself, the
senior of the party, was absorbed in the new game, and it was a happy
thought of Paul's to introduce it, even with the rude figures which were
the best that they could make.
Paul brought up again the next morning the subject of their weather
prospects, and Tom and Henry agreed with the others in predicting a great
deal of snow and cold.
"All signs show it," said Henry. "The rabbits are burrowing deeper than
usual under the bushes, and I notice that the birds have built their nests
uncommonly thick. I don't understand how they know what's coming, but they
do."
"Instinct," said Paul.
"We know that a hound kin follow by smell the track of a man who has
passed hours before," said Shif'less Sol, "when no man in the world kin
smell anything at all o' that track. So it ain't any more strange that
birds an' beasts kin feel in their bones what's comin' when we can't."
"Ef you'll imitate them squirrels an' rabbits an' birds an' things," said
Jim Hart, "an' lay up lots uv things good to eat fur the winter, it'll
give me pleasure to cook it ez it's needed."
"I've noticed something besides the forethought of the animals," added
Henry. "The moss on the north side of the trees seems to me to be thicker
than usual. I suppose that nature, too, is getting ready for a long, hard
winter."
"When nature and the animals concur," said Paul, "it is not left to man to
doubt; so we'd better be providing the things Jim promises to cook so
well."
They had learned the border habit of acting promptly, and Henry Ross and
Sol were to depart the very next morning for the mainland on a hunt for
deer, while Long Jim was to keep house. Paul otherwise would have been
anxious to go with the hunters, but he had an idea of his own, and when
Henry suggested that he accompany them, he replied that he expected to
make a contribution of a different kind.
All these plans were made in the evening, and then every member of the
five, wrapping himself in his buffalo robe, fell asleep. The fire in Jim
Hart's furnace had been permitted to die down to a bed of coals, and the
glow from them barely disclosed the five figures lying, dark and silent,
on the floor. They slept, clean in conscience and without fear.
Henry, Shif'less Sol, and Ross were off at dawn, and Paul, using a rude
wooden needle that he had shaped with his own pocketknife, and the tendon
of a deer as thread, made a large bag of buckskin. Then he threw it
triumphantly over his shoulder.
"Now what under the sun, Paul, are you goin' to do with that?" asked Jim
Hart.
"I'm going to add variety to our winter store. Just you wait, Jim Hart,
and see."
Bearing the bag, he left the house and took his way to the north end of
the island. He had not been above learning more than one thing from the
squirrels, and he had recalled a grove of great hickory trees growing
almost to the water's edge. Now the ground was thickly covered with the
nuts which had fallen when the severe frosts and the snow and ice came.
There were several varieties, including large ones two inches long, and
the fine little ones known to boys throughout the Mississippi Valley as
the scaly bark. Paul procured two stones, and, cracking several of them,
found them delicious to the taste. Already in his Kentucky home he had
become familiar with them all. The hogs of the settlers, running through
the forest and fattening upon these nuts and acorns, known collectively as
"mast," acquired a delicious flavor. Boys and grown people loved the nuts,
too.
The nuts lay about in great quantities, and the thick, barky coverings,
known to the boys as "hulls," almost fell off at a touch. Soon the ground
was littered with these hulls, while the big buckskin bag was filled with
the clean nuts. Then, lifting it to his shoulder, Paul marched off proudly
to the house.
"Now, why didn't I think uv that?" said Jim Hart, as Paul threw down the
bag before him and disclosed its contents. "An' all them hick'ry nuts jest
layin' thar on the ground an' waitin' fur me."
"It's because you had so much else to do, Jim," said Paul; "and as I'm
idle a good deal of the time, the thought occurred to me."
"You shorely do have the gift uv sayin' nice things, an' makin' a feller
feel good, Paul," said Jim admiringly.
Paul laughed. Jim's words pleased him.
"I told nothing but the truth," he said. "Now, Jim, I'm going back for
more, and I'd like to do this job all by myself. I think I can gather at
least six bagfuls, and we'll heap them here by the wall."
"An' mighty good seas'nin' they'll be to deer an' buffalo an' b'ar meat,"
said Jim Hart. "It wuz a good thought uv yours, Paul."
Paul worked the whole morning, and when he had gathered all the nuts in
the house he estimated the quantity at several bushels. Although he sought
to conceal his pride, he cast more than one triumphant look at the great
heap by the wall.
He and Jim went forth together in the afternoon with rude spades, made of
wood and hardened at the edges in the fire, to dig for Indian turnip.
"It ain't much of a veg'table," said Jim, "but we might find it useful to
give a new taste to our meat, or it might be uv some help doctorin', in
case any uv us fell sick."
They found two or three of the roots, and the remainder of the afternoon
they devoted to strengthening their house. They did this with huge slabs
of bark lying everywhere on the ground, fallen in former seasons. Some
they put on the roof, thatching in between with dry grass and leaves, and
others they fastened on the sides.
"It ain't purty," said Jim, "but it turns rain an' snow, an' that's what
we're after."
"I take another view," said Paul. "It does look well. It blends with the
wilderness, and so it has a beauty of its own."
The three hunters were not to return that night, and Paul and Jim kept
house. Jim slept lightly, and just before the dawn he rolled over in his
buffalo robe and pushed Paul's shoulder.
Paul awoke instantly, and sat up.
"What is it, Jim?" he asked anxiously. It was his natural thought that
some danger threatened, and it was so dark in the cabin that he could not
see Jim's face.
"Do you hear that hoo-hooing sound?" asked Jim Hart.
Paul listened and heard faintly a low, mellow note.
"What is it, Jim?" he asked.
"The call of the wild turkey."
"What, Indians again?"
"No, it's the real bird, talkin'. An old gobbler is tellin' his hens that
day is comin'. It's a plumb waste on his part, because they know it
theirselves, but he must jest let 'em know what a smart bird he is. An'
it's that pride uv his that will be his ruin. Git up, Paul; we must have
him an' one uv his hens to eat."
"Where do you think they are?" asked Paul.
"In the hick'ry grove. I guess they lighted thar fur the night, when
flyin' 'cross the lake."
The two hurried on their clothes, took their rifles, and stole out. A
faint tinge of light was just showing under the horizon in the east, but
the air was not yet gray. It was very cold at that early hour, and Paul
shivered, but he soon forgot it in the ardor of the chase.
"Slip along softer nor a cat, Paul," said Jim. "We don't want to give old
Mr. Gobbler any warnin' that his time hez come. Thar, hear him? The tarnal
fool! He's jest bound to show us where he is."
The mellow call arose again, very clear and distinct in the silent air,
and as they approached the edge of the hickory grove, Jim pointed upward.
"See him thar on the limb," he said, "the big feller with the feathers all
shinin' an' glistenin'? That's the gobbler, an' the littler ones with the
gray feathers are the hens. I'm goin' to take the gobbler. He may be old,
but he's so fat he's bound to be tender; an' s'pose, Paul, you take that
hen next to him. When I say 'Now,' fire."
The two raised their guns, took careful aim, and Jim said "Now." They
fired together, aiming at the necks or heads. The big gobbler fell like a
stone from the bough and lay still. The hen fell, too, but she fluttered
about on the ground. The rest flew away on whirring wings. Paul ran
forward and finished his bird with a stick, but Jim lifted the great
gobbler and looked at him with admiring eyes.
"Did you ever see a finer turkey?" he said. "He must weigh all uv forty
pounds, an' he's as fat as he can be with the good food uv the wilderness.
An' he's a beauty, too! Jest look at them glossy blue-black feathers. No
wonder so many hens wuz in love with him. I could be pop'lar with the
women folks, too, ef I wuz ez handsome ez Mr. Gobbler here."
They picked and cleaned the turkeys, and then hung the dressed bodies from
the boughs of a tree near the hut, where they would be frozen, and thus
keep.
The hunters returned that afternoon with two deer, and were delighted with
Jim and Paul's zeal and success.
"Ef things go on this swimmin' way," said Shif'less Sol, "we'd be able to
feed an army this winter, ef it wuz needed."
It was very cold that evening, and they built the fire higher than usual.
Great mellow rays of heat fell over all the five, and lighted up the whole
interior of the cabin with its rich store of skins and nuts and dressed
meats, and other spoil of the wilderness. The five, though no one of them
ever for a moment forgot their great mission of saving Kentucky, had a
feeling of content. Affairs were going well.
"Paul," said Shif'less Sol, "you've read books. Tell us about some o' them
old fellers that lived a long time ago. I like to hear about the big
ones."
"Well," said Paul, "there was Alexander. Did you ever hear of him, Sol?"
Shif'less Sol shook his head and sighed.
"I can't truly call myself an eddicated man," he replied, "though I have
the instincks o' one. But I ain't had the proper chance. No, Paul, me an'
Alexander is strangers."
"Then I'll make you acquainted," said Paul. He settled himself more
comfortably before the fire, and the others did likewise.
"Alexander lived a long, long time ago," said Paul. "He was a Greek--that
is, he was a Macedonian with Greek blood in him--I suppose it comes to the
same thing--and he led the Greeks and Macedonians over into Asia, and
whipped the Persians every time, though the Persians were always twenty to
one."
"Who writ the accounts o' them thar battles?" asked Shif'less Sol.
"Why, the Greeks, of course."
"I thought so. Why, Jim Hart here must be a Greek, then. To hear him tell
it, he's always whippin' twenty men at a time. But it ain't in natur' for
one man to whip twenty."
"I never said once in my life that I whipped twenty men at a time,"
protested Jim Hart.
"We'll let it pass," said Paul, "and Sol may be right about the Greeks
piling it up for themselves; but so they wrote it, and so we have to take
it. Well, Alexander, although he wasn't much more than a boy, kept on
whipping the Persians until at last their king, Darius, ran away with his
wives."
Shif'less Sol whistled.
"Do you mean to tell me, Paul," he said, "that any white man ever had more
than one wife! I thought only Injun chiefs had 'em?"
"Why, it was common a long time ago," replied Paul.
"What a waste!" said Shif'less Sol. "One man havin' a lot uv wives, an'
Jim Hart here ain't ever been able to get a single one."
"An' you ain't, either, Sol Hyde," said Jim Hart.
"Oh, me!" replied Shif'less Sol carelessly. "I'm too young to marry."
"Let him go on about Alexander, the fightin' feller," interrupted Tom
Ross.
"Alexander conquered all Asia," resumed Paul, "but it didn't agree with
him. The more he conquered the more he wanted to conquer."
"Jest like a little boy eatin' turkey," said Shif'less Sol. "Can't hold
enough to suit him. Stummick ain't ez big ez his appetite, an' he hez to
cry about it. I don't think your Alexander wuz such a big man, after all."
"He was not, from one point of view, Sol, but he was certainly a general.
After conquering all the world, he fell to drinking too much, and
quarreling with his best friends. One day he got raging drunk, which made
him hot all over, and he jumped into an icy river to cool off. That gave
him a fever, and he died right away. He was only thirty-two."
Shif'less Sol sniffed in disgust.
"Dead at thirty-two!" he said. "Now, I call him a plumb failure. With
fightin' goin' on all the time, an' fevers layin' aroun' fur you, I call
it somethin' jest to live, an' I mean to stay in these parts till I'm a
hundred. Why, that Alexander never had time, Paul, to think over what he'd
done. I wouldn't change places with him, I think I'm a heap sight better
off."
"I agrees with Sol ag'in," said Tom Ross, who had been in deep thought.
"In dang'rous times it's doin' a heap jest to live, an' a man who dies
off at thirty-two, all through his own foolishness, ain't much to brag
about."
Henry laughed.
"Paul," he said, "you'll have to bring out better examples of greatness to
satisfy Sol and Tom."
Paul laughed, too.
"I just tell things as they are," he said. "Maybe they are right."
Henry went to the door and looked out. The air was full of raw chill, and
he heard the leafless boughs rustling in the winter wind. All around him
was the dark wilderness, and, natural hunter and warrior though he was, he
was glad to have the shelter, the fire, and his comrades. He turned back
and closed the door tightly, in order to shut out any stray gust that
might be of an unusually penetrating quality.
"I'm thinking that we'd better start away hunting again very early in the
morning," he said. "The big snows are bound to come soon. That first
little one was only a taste of what we're going to get."
They were off again at daybreak, and this time Paul went with them. The
party turned to the southward, in order to avoid the chance of meeting
Shawnees or Miamis, and soon had the luck to run into a small buffalo
herd. They killed only what they could carry, and then returned with it
toward the island. Henry continually watched the skies as they traveled,
and he uttered an exclamation of relief when they landed. The heavens all
the while had been leaden and somber, and there was no wind stirring.
"See," he said, "the great snow comes!"
The sullen skies opened, and big white flakes dropped down as they hurried
with their fresh supplies to the cabin.