had broken through the ice on the river at home, and as the black water
was dragging his fingers one by one from the slippery edges, there came
over his face that same look. I used to wake up for many a night after
in a sweat of horror, seeing the white face with its parting lips and
its piteous, dumb appeal, and the black water slowly sucking it down.
Nelson's face brought it all back; but during the prayer the face
changed and seemed to settle into resolve of some sort, stern, almost
gloomy, as of a man with his last chance before him.
After the prayer Mr. Craig invited the men to a Christmas dinner next
day in Black Rock. "And because you are an independent lot, we'll charge
you half a dollar for dinner and the evening show." Then leaving a
bundle of magazines and illustrated papers on the table--a godsend to
the men--he said good-by and went out.
I was to go with the minister, so I jumped into the sleigh first and
waited while he said good-by to Graeme, who had been hard hit by the
whole service and seemed to want to say something. I heard Mr. Craig say
cheerfully and confidently: "It's a true bill: try Him."
Sandy, who had been steadying Dandy while that interesting broncho was
attempting with great success to balance himself on his hind legs, came
to say good-by.
"Come and see me first thing, Sandy."
"Aye! I know; I'll see ye, Mr. Craig," said Sandy earnestly as Dandy
dashed off at a full gallop across the clearing and over the bridge,
steadying down when he reached the hill.
"Steady, you idiot!"
This was to Dandy, who had taken a sudden side spring into the deep
snow, almost upsetting us. A man stepped out from the shadow. It was old
man Nelson. He came straight to the sleigh and, ignoring my presence
completely, said:
"Mr. Craig, are you dead sure of this? Will it work?"
"Do you mean," said Craig, taking him up promptly, "can Jesus Christ
save you from your sins and make a man of you?"
The old man nodded, keeping his hungry eyes on the other's face.
"Well, here's His message to you: 'The Son of Man is come to seek and to
save that which was lost.'"
"To me? To me?" said the old man eagerly.
"Listen; this, too, is His word: 'Him that cometh unto Me I will in no
wise cast out.' That's for you, for here you are, coming."
"You don't know me, Mr. Craig. I left my baby fifteen years ago
because----"
"Stop!" said the minister. "Don't tell me, at least not to-night;
perhaps never. Tell Him who knows it all now and who never betrays a
secret. Have it out with Him. Don't be afraid to trust Him."
Nelson looked at him, with his face quivering, and said in a husky
voice:
"If this is no good, it's hell for me."
"If it is no good," replied Craig almost sternly, "it's hell for all of
us."
The old man straightened himself up, looked up at the stars, then back
at Mr. Craig, then at me, and drawing a deep breath said:
"I'll try Him." As he was turning away the minister touched him on the
arm and said quietly:
"Keep an eye on Sandy to-morrow."
Nelson nodded and we went on; but before we took the next turn I looked
back and saw what brought a lump into my throat. It was old man Nelson
on his knees in the snow, with his hands spread upward to the stars,
and I wondered if there was any One above the stars and nearer than the
stars who could see. And then the trees hid him from my sight.
FOOTNOTE:
[11] From _Black Rock_. Reprinted by special permission of publisher,
The Fleming H. Revell Company.
[Illustration]
XII.--The Story That the Keg Told Me
_By Adirondack (W. H. H.) Murray_
_The author is "Adirondack Murray" because he,
more than any other man, rediscovered for the past
and present generation the wonderful Adirondack
Woods. We are grateful to Mr. Archibald Rutledge
for having shortened the story, and to Mr.
Murray's publishers, De Wolfe and Fiske Company,
for permission to print it in the abbreviated
form._--THE EDITOR.
IT was near the close of a sultry day in midsummer, which I had spent in
exploring a part of the shore line of the lake where I was camping, and
wearied with the trip I had made, I was returning toward the camp.
The lake was a very secluded sheet of water hidden away between the
mountains, not marked on the map, whose very existence was unsuspected
by me until I had a few days before accidentally stumbled upon it.
Indeed, in all the world there is hardly another sheet of water so
likely to escape the eye, not only of the tourist and the sportsman, but
also of the hunter and the trapper. Day by day as I paddled over the
lake or explored its shores the conviction grew upon me that the place
had never before been visited by any human being. The more I examined
and explored, the more this belief grew upon me. The thought was ever
with me. But on this afternoon as I was paddling leisurely along, my
paddle struck some curious object in the water. I reached down and
lifted it into the boat. It was a Keg!
Amazed, I sat looking at this proof that my lake was not so unknown as I
had supposed it to be. Where had it come from? How did it get here? Who
brought it, and for what purpose? These and similar questions I put to
myself as I paddled onward toward my camp.
After having built my camp fire I seated myself with my back against a
pine; it was then that my gaze again fell on the Keg, which I had
brought up from the boat and had set on the ground across the fire from
me. I sat wondering where it had come from, and what had become of him
who must once have handled it. . . . It may be that I was awake; it may
be that I was asleep; but as I was thus looking steadily and curiously
at the Keg, it seemed to change its appearance. It was no longer a Keg:
it was a man! A queer little man he was, with strange little legs, and
the funniest little body, and the tiniest little face! Then, standing
bold upright, and looking at me with eyes that glistened like black
beads, the miraculous Keg-Man opened his mouth and began to talk!
"I desire to tell you my story," it said; "the story of the man who
brought me here; why he did it, and what became of him; how he lived and
died.
"The earliest remembrance I have of myself is of the cooper's shop where
I was made. Although I look worn now, I can recall the time when all my
staves were smooth and clean, so that the oak-grain showed clearly from
the top to the bottom of me, and my steel hoops were strong and bright.
The cooper made me on his honor and took a deal of honest pride in
putting me together, as every workman should in doing his work. I
remember that when I was finished and the cooper had sanded me off and
oiled me, he set me up on a bench and said to his apprentice boy:
'There, that Keg will last till the Judgment Day, and well on toward
night at that.' I wondered at that.
"One day a few weeks later a man came into the shop and said, 'Have you
a good strong keg for sale?'
"He put the question in such a half-spiteful, half-suspicious way that I
eyed him curiously. And a very peculiar man I saw. He was not more than
forty years old, of good height and strongly built. He was a gentleman,
evidently, although his face was darkly tanned and his clothes were old
and threadbare. His mouth was small. His lips were thin, and had a look
of being drawn tightly over his teeth. His chin was long, his jaws large
and strong. His hair was thin and brown. But the remarkable feature of
his face was his eyes. They were blue-gray in color, small, and deeply
set under his arching eye-brows. How hard and steel-like they were, and
restless as a rat's! And what an intense look of suspicion there was in
them; a half-scared, defiant look, as if their owner felt every one to
be his enemy. Ah, what eyes they were! I came to know them well
afterward, and to know what the wild, strange light in them meant; but
of that by and by.
"'Have you a good strong keg for sale?' he shouted to my master, who
turned round and looked squarely at the questioner.
"'Yes, I have, Mr. Roberts. Do you want one?'
"'Yes!' returned the other; 'but I want a strong one--_strong_, do you
hear?'
"'Here's a keg,' said my master, tapping me with his mallet, 'that I
made with my own hands from the very best stuff. It will last as long as
steel and white oak staves will last.'
"The price was paid with a muttered protest and Roberts hoisted me under
his arm and bore me from the shop.
"As we hurried along, I noticed that my new master spoke to no one, and
that people looked at him coldly or wonderingly. At last we came to a
common-looking house set back from the road, with a very high fence
built around it and a heavy padlock on the front gate. There were great
strong wooden shutters at every window. My master entered the house and
set me down on the floor, then went to the door and locked it, drawing
two large iron bars across it. He went to every window to see if it was
fastened.
Carrying a candle in one hand and a great bludgeon in the other, he
examined every room, every closet, the attic, and the cellar. After this
he came back to me, set me on a table, started one of my hoops, and took
out one of my heads. From a cupboard he got a large sheepskin, and with
a pair of shears fitted me with a lining of it. I must say that he did
it with cleverness, and he seemed well pleased with his work.
"When he had done all this, he brought his bludgeon and laid it on the
table beside me; also he laid there a large knife. Then he went to the
chimney and brought the ash-pail, which was full of ashes; from the
cupboard he brought an earthen jar; from under the bed he fetched a bag;
from the cellar he returned with a sack, all damp and moldy. When he had
all these side by side near the table, he sat down. Then out of the
ash-pail he took a small pot, and having carefully blown the ashes off,
he turned it bottom-upward on the table. And what do you think was in
it?
"Gold coins! Some red and some yellow, but all gold!
"He emptied each of the other receptacles, and out there flowed heaps of
gold coins almost without number! How they gleamed and glistened! How
they clinked and jingled! And how the deep and narrow eyes of my master
glittered, but how the lips drew apart in a wild smile!
"It was a fearful sight to see him playing with the gold and to hear him
laugh over his treasure. It was dreadful to think that a human soul
could love money so. And he did love it--madly, with all the strength of
his nature.
"He would take up a coin and look at it as a father might look upon the
face of a favorite child. Ah, me, 'twas dreadful! He would take up a
piece and say to it, 'Thou art better to me than a wife'; and to
another, 'Thou art dearer than father or mother!' Ah, such blasphemy as
I heard that night! How the sweet and blessed things of human life were
derided, and the things that are divine and holy sneered at!
"At length he fell to counting his gold; and for a long, long time he
counted, until his hands shook, and his eyes gleamed as if he were mad.
When he had counted all, he jumped from his seat, shouting like a
maniac, 'Sixteen thousand, six hundred and sixty-six dollars!' Again and
again he shouted this in wild triumph.
"After a while he sobered down, and inside of me he began to pack away
his treasures--carefully, caressingly, as a mother might lay her
children to sleep. When I was full to the brim with shining gold, he put
my head on, fitted the upper hoop on snugly, and then put me in the bed.
The great knife he slipped under the pillow. Then, blowing out the
light, he lay down beside me with one arm thrown about me. So the
miser, clasping me to his heart, fell asleep.
"Day after day, night after night, this selfsame performance was
repeated. My master did little work; indeed, he did not seem eager to
increase his store, but merely to hold it safely. But about this he was
so anxious that he was in a fever of excitement all the time. For days
he would not leave the house. Never was he free from the fear of losing
his money. And this suspicion had poisoned his whole life, had made him
hate his kind and lose all belief in the love and the goodness of God,
that he had once professed.
"One day in summer he left the front door open. I was drowsing, when
suddenly I heard him give a frightened yell. In the doorway stood a man
and a woman. The man was the village pastor, and the woman, I soon
learned, was my master's wife. For a moment my master stood looking
angrily at them. Then he said abruptly, 'Why did you come here?'
"'John,' said the woman, 'your child Mary is dying; and I thought that
you, her father, would want to see her before she passed away.' Her
voice choked, and her breast heaved with sobs.
"'Dying, is she?' said my master brutally. 'I don't believe it. You are
simply after my gold. You might as well get away from here,' he added
with a threatening look.
"'John,' returned the woman, great tears coming to her eyes, 'I never in
my life lied to you. Mary is dying, and I could not let her go without
giving you a chance to see her. Last night in her delirium she begged
for you. She wants you, John; she wants to say good-by to you!'
"But my master remained unmoved. The sinister look in the eyes, the
doggedness of the face did not change. He stared at them; then he
shouted in frenzy: 'You lie! You want my money! Everybody wants it!
Everybody loves it! There isn't an honest man in the world! All are
thieves! All are lovers of gold! I know by your looks that you love it,'
he went on; 'and you can't fool me by your tears and your preaching. You
get out of this house!' he suddenly shrieked, 'or I will kill you,--both
of you!' He swore a terrible oath and stepped back to seize the heavy
bludgeon on the table. The woman cried out in fear and turned away
weeping. But the parson stood his ground.
"'John Roberts,' he said, 'thou art a doomed man. The lust of gold that
destroys so many is in thee strong and mighty, and only God can save
thee, nor He against thy will. Repent, or thou shalt perish in a lonely
place, on a dark night, with none to help thee or hear thy cries; and
all thy gold shall perish with thee.' So saying, he turned and slowly
left the house.
"For a moment my master stood glaring at the retreating forms of those
who had come to him as friends, but whom he had treated as enemies; then
he rushed for the door and locked it. After that he lifted me tenderly
upon the table, laughed softly, patted me with his hands, and stroked me
caressingly. 'My gold,' he kept repeating, 'my precious, precious gold!'
And as night came on, he poured out the gold and counted the glittering
pieces. Again and again he counted his treasure until deep midnight had
settled over all.
"But when he awoke in the morning he was very nervous. All day long he
neither opened the door nor unbarred the shutters. All the while he kept
muttering to himself as if planning some crafty plot. I could not know
what all this might mean, but I caught enough of his talk to understand
that he was more than ever suspicious of losing his money, was fearing
all man-kind more and more, and was trying to devise some scheme whereby
he could find a place where no one could molest him or try to steal his
gold. 'They will get it yet,' he kept saying, 'unless I can go where no
one can find me.' Then he would curse his kind.
"At last, after hours of muttering and tramping back and forth in the
darkened house, he suddenly seemed to find his decision. I shall never
forget the terrible expression of evil triumph on his face as he paused
before me and shouted:
"'I'll go! Go where they can never find me! I want to be alone with my
money, where I can spread it out and see it shine! I will go where there
is not a man!'
"After my master had said that, he made no further remarks; but he
began with eager haste to pack a few things for his journey. He put me
in a sack in which I could neither see nor hear what was happening; and
that was all I knew for many a day. But all the while I felt myself
being _carried, carried, carried_! One day I realized that I had been
put in a boat; then we went on and on, day after day. Finally the boat
was stopped and I was carried ashore. Then for the first time in many a
long day I was taken from the bag. Again I saw the world about me. But
how different were my surroundings from those of my old home! Where was
I? I was on the very point of land off which you found me this evening.
"For the first few weeks of our stay on the shores of this lonely lake,
things continued almost as they had been at home. The gold was my
master's single thought. He seemed happy, almost joyous, in the thought
that he and I were at last out of the reach of men. Most of his time was
spent looking at his gold. Every morning and every evening he would take
me down to that point yonder where the sun shines clearly, and there
would pour the treasure out in a great pile. He always did this
exultingly. And his greatest pleasure was to play with the yellow coins,
to count them over and over, and to laugh to himself in a satisfied way.
"But after a time I could see that a change was coming over my master.
He grew grave and quiet. No, more, as he poured out his gold, did he
chuckle and laugh to himself. All his movements seemed listless. He
counted his money less frequently, and when he did so it was in a
half-hearted manner. One day I even saw him go away and leave the yellow
heap lying on the sands. At last one day he came, packed the gold in me,
and put in my head with the greatest care. Moreover, when he went back
to the camp, he left me there on the beach! I felt very strange and
lonely, and the night seemed long indeed.
"At last the daybreak came, and glad I was to see it. But it was not
until near sunset that my master came down to the point where I was. His
face was as I had never seen it before. It was the countenance of a man
who had suffered much, and who was still suffering. He came to me,
paused before me, and said: 'For thee, thou cursed gold, I have wasted
my life and ruined my soul!'
"For some time he stood thus looking at me; then he began to walk up and
down the strip of beach, wringing his hands and beating his breast. 'Oh,
if I could only do it!' he kept saying; 'if I could only do it! If I
could, there might be hope, even for me. Lord, help me to do it! Lord,
help me!'
"After many hours of this, which I knew to be mental torment for my poor
wretched master, when he was exhausted in body and in mind, he came back
along the sands toward me. To my astonishment he knelt down beside me,
he placed his hands together, he lifted his face skyward. My master
prayed!
"'Lord of the great world,' he said, 'come to my aid or I am lost. In
Thy great mercy, save me! Hear where no man may hear, hear Thou my cry;
Thou Lord of heavenly mercy, lend me thine aid!'
"He paused, and over his face I seemed to see the dawning of a deep
peace. He rose to his feet, lifted me, and bore me down to the boat.
Then he slowly paddled away toward the center of the lake, repeating his
prayer. At last he checked the boat; then, having looked toward the sky,
he said in a low, sweet voice, 'Lord, Thou hast given me grace and
strength.' At that he lifted me high above his head----"
There was a crash as if pieces of wood were falling together and my eyes
opened with a snap. My fire had smoldered down. The Keg, heated by the
fire, had tumbled inward, and lay there in a confused heap.
"What a queer dream," I said to myself. I was really beginning to
believe that these things had happened. I rose to my feet and stepped
down to the edge of the lonely water. I am not ashamed to say that my
blood was chilled at what I saw. As I looked across the lake, within
twenty feet of where I had found the Keg, there was a boat with a man
sitting motionless in it!
When that mysterious canoe appeared on the bosom of the lonely lake, I
thought that I was looking upon a vision of a spectral nature. In spite
of all my belief that I was alone on this remote beach, there sat the
man in the boat, only a few rods off shore. He was as a mirage, as
silent as the very lake itself. A few eerie moments passed; then the
boat began to move slowly toward me, gently propelled by a skillful
paddle. As it approached, the light of the full moon streaming upon it
made it easy for me to study its occupants. Near the bow I could discern
a hound crouching. In the stern sat the paddler, his rifle across his
knees.
"Hello, the camp there!" shouted the man in the boat.
"Hello!" I called, glad enough to find that my strange visitor was no
apparition.
The canoe came ashore, I greeted the boatman, and together we walked up
toward the camp, the hound following us in a leisurely fashion. There I
replenished the fire. Then for a moment the stranger and I stood and
looked at each other. He was over six feet in height, but so
symmetrically proportioned in his physical stature that, great as it
was, he was neither awkward nor ungainly. But for the fact that his eye
had lost its earlier brightness and that his hair was sprinkled with
threads of gray, it would have been impossible to believe that he had
reached three-score years and ten, for his form was still erect, his
step elastic, and his voice clear and strong. His features were regular
and strong, giving proof of the man's self-reliant and indomitable
character. Years, perhaps a lifetime of activity in the woods and on the
lakes, had bronzed the man. From beneath heavy eyebrows looked eyes
gray in color and baffling in depth. The man's whole appearance
attracted me singularly.
"Thank ye for your welcome, mister," he began. "I shouldn't have dropped
in on ye at this onseemly hour, but the line of your smoke caught my eye
as I was turning the point yonder. I didn't expect to find a human being
on these shores. I ax your pardon for comin' in on ye, but I have
memories of this spot that made me think strange things when I saw your
camp. I am John Norton, the trapper. And who might you be, young man?"
"I am Henry Herbert," I replied; "but just call me plain Henry."
"Well, Henry," began the old trapper, "I am going to call you that. When
men meet in the woods they don't put on any airs. I have been in these
woods sixty-two years, and they have been a home for me, for my father
and mother are gone, and I have never had wife nor child of my own. And
I have heard of you, Henry. Ye be no stranger to me. For ten years back
I have heard how you like to travel the woods and the waters by
yourself, larning things that Nature does not tell about in crowds. I
have heard, too, that you be a good shot, and that you know the ways of
outwitting the trout and the pickerel. Hearing about you this way, I
knew some day that I would come across your trail; but I never thought
to run agin you to-night, for I'd no idee that mortal man knowed this
lake, save me--save me and that other. . . ."
The old man paused, seated himself on the end of a log, and gazed into
the fire with a solemn look on his face.
I did not feel like breaking in on his meditations, whatever they might
be. I was silent out of deference to his memories.
"This lake," John Norton said at length, "this lake is a strange place.
I have been here for eleven years. No other place in all this wide
country makes me feel as this place does."
Again he fell into a reverie. I, meanwhile, busied myself with supper;
and as soon as this was prepared, the two of us enjoyed it as only
woodmen can.
"If you know me," I said, "we are no strangers to each other, for I know
you. Who draws the steadiest bead with a rifle; who is the best boatman
who ever feathered paddle, and who is as honest a man as ever drew
breath?--who, but John Norton, whom I have always been wanting to meet.
No man could be as welcome to my camp."
"Well, well," laughed the old man, "when you're at home you must be one
of them detective fellows. I see we aren't no strangers to each other.
And if while in these woods old John Norton can teach you any trick of
huntin' or of fishin' or of trappin', be sure he will do so for the
welcome you have give him."
So we sat on either side of the fire, silent for a few moments. Then the
old trapper said:
"I am thinking of the things that happened here long years agone.
Strange things have come to pass on this very point. It is eleven year
this very night that me and the hound slept here, and a solemn night it
was, too. . . . God of heaven, man, what is that?"
The old man's startled ejaculation brought me to my feet as if a panther
were upon me. Glancing at the spot he had indicated by look and gesture,
I beheld only the shattered portion of the Keg. Not knowing what to make
of the trapper's excited action, I said: "That? That is only a Keg I
picked up in the lake this evening."
John Norton rose in silence to his feet and went over to where the
staves lay. One of these he picked up and held contemplatively in his
hand.