perhaps in the long run He brings the wrong to the right, and so makes
the evil in the world to praise him. Henry," said the Old Trapper,
looking keenly at me, "I have a mind to tell you the story of the man
who owned that Keg. A strange tale it be, but a true one, and the
teachings of it be solemn."
Eagerly I urged him to give me the story, a part of which, at least, I
felt that I already knew.
"It was eleven year agone, in this very month, that I came down the
inlet yonder into the lake. The moon was nigh her full, and everything
looked solemn and white just as it do now. Lord knows I little thought
to meet a man in these solitudes when I run agin what I am telling ye
of.
"I was paddling down this side of the lake when I heard the strangest
sounds I ever heard coming out of a bird or beast. Ye better believe,
Henry, that I sot and listened until I was nothing but ears. But nary a
thing could I make out of it. After awhile I said I would try to ambush
the creetur and find out what mouth had a language that old John Norton
couldn't understand. As I got nearer the shore, my boat just drifting in
the moonlight, I heerd a kind of crawling sound as if the brute was
a-trailing himself on the ground. The shake of a bush give me the line
on him, and I felt sure that in a minute I could let the lead drive
where it ought to go. I had my rifle to my face, when by the Lord of
marcy, Henry, I diskivered I had ambushed a man!
"And, Henry," he continued, "the words of the man was words of prayer.
Never in my life was I taken so unawares or was so unbalanced as when I
heard the voice of that man I had mistook for an animal break out in
prayer. For a minute the blood stopped in my heart and my hair moved in
my scalp; then I shook like a man with the chills. I had come that nigh
being a murderer, Henry!
"How that man prayed! He prayed for help as one calls to a comrade when
his boat has gone down under him in the rapids, and he knows he must
have help or die. This man's soul was struggling hard, I tell ye. The
words of his cry come out of his mouth like the words of one who is
surely lost unless somebody saves him. It's dreadful for a man to live
in such a way that he has to pray in that fashion; for we ought to live,
Henry, so that it is cheerful-like to meet the Lord, and pleasant to
hold converse with Him.
"I sot in my boat till his praying was done; then I hugged myself close
in under the bushes, for I heard him coming down toward the shore. And
he did come, and come close to me; and in his arms he carried something
very heavy. In a moment I heard him shove a boat out from the bushes;
then, getting in, he pushed off into the lake. He held for the center of
it; and when he had come nigh to the middle of it, he laid his paddle
down, and lifted something into the air. This he turned upside down, and
out streamed into the water something that glinted in the moonlight.
After that, he come paddling back for the shore. Myself--I kept shy of
the man that night, but the next morning I went to the stranger's camp.
"There was nothing in sight but an old ragged tent, sagging at every
seam. I called aloud so that mayhap the man would answer me. But no
answer came. I walked up to the tent and drew aside the rotten flap.
And, Henry, there lay the man senseless before me! I thought he was
dead, and I onkivered my head. But the hound here knowed better, for he
began to wag his tail. I went in, and found that the man was still
breathing. I lifted him in my arms, Henry, and bore him out of the foul
air of that tent, taking him down to the warm sunshine on the point.
"For a long while I thought he was going to die in my arms. He just lay
there lifeless-like, a-looking across the lake with eyes half-shut. But
the sun and air revived him; and after a long while he stirs and says:
"'Old man, who are you who are so kind to me?'
"I tells him I was John Norton, the trapper.
"'I am John Roberts,' he says, 'and I haven't a friend on the earth, nor
do I deserve one. Old man, you cannot understand, because you have lived
an innocent life, but I am a sinner--a wretched sinner. And my moments
here are numbered. I will tell you of my crimes; I will confess them,
for they lie heavy on my heart.
"'John Norton, I was a miser; I had a heart with a passion for gold. For
the evil love of money I turned my face away from my kind. My wife I
deserted. My only child I refused, with curses, to see, even when she
sent for me as she lay dying. John Norton, I gave all for gold. And the
more I loved it, the more I hated man. With my dreadful lust there grew
suspicion of every one. All ties of affection were severed. I lived
alone, hoarding my gold and gloating over it.
"'At last I fled from the habitations of men, bringing my gold, my god,
with me in a Keg. Here on this lonely shore I thought to be happy, far
from my own kind, far from any danger that my precious treasure be
stolen. But, John Norton--and a dying man is speaking--for all my
counting of the bright gold on the sands here, and my dancing about it
as a devil might, laughing and singing--I was unhappy. I knew that God
was watching me and was disapproving. I could not but think of my wife
and child. The thought of them began to make the gold hateful to me. Ah,
then, old man, I began to pray the Lord to deliver me! It was a bitter
struggle I fought, but at length He rescued me. He gave me strength,
John Norton, to overcome the Wicked One; He gave me strength to break
away from my sin; He gave me strength last night to pour every piece of
gold that had been for me both love and life, into the lake there. I
shall never see it more, and I am happy.'
"After that, he lay silent-like, looking up at the blue sky. Then his
eyes closed, and I thought him sleeping. But suddenly he started up, 'A
light, a light! I see a light!' Then, Henry, he sank back into my arms
and spoke no more. I hope my passing may be as peaceful as his, and my
face as calm as was his after his battle of life was over.
"The next day I buried him up yonder under them hemlocks--having no one
to help me, but doing it respectful-like, as all such should be done.
There he lies, Henry, the man who was the owner of that Keg--John
Roberts--the miser who repented before it was too late. Nor do I doubt,"
he added, in his kindly tone, "but he's been forgiven by those he
wronged."
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Words that have varied hyphenation: a-way, clean-cut, camp-fire,
east-bound, round-house.
Page 32, "Naggar" changed to "Nagger" (to find Nagger)
Page 200, "Skinney" changed to "Skinny" (Skinny soon returned)
Page 237, "Toodles" changed to "Toddles" (Toddles swung from)
Page 243, "pur" changed to "purr" (began to purr)
Page 270, "But" changed to "but" (but the face)
End of Project Gutenberg's The Boy Scouts Book of Campfire Stories, by Various