Quonab puzzled long over the amazing fact that young Van Cortlandt had
evident high standing “in his own tribe.” “He must be a wise counsellor,
for I know he cannot fight and is a fool at hunting,” was the ultimate
decision.
They had a final interview with the governor and his son before they
left. Rolf received for himself and his partner the promised one hundred
and fifty dollars, and the hearty thanks of all in the governor's home.
Next, each was presented with a handsome hunting knife, not unlike
the one young Van had carried, but smaller. Quonab received his with
“Ho--” then, after a pause, “He pull out, maybe, when I need him.”--“Ho!
good!” he exclaimed, as the keen blade appeared.
“Now, Rolf,” said the lawyer, “I want to come back next year and bring
three companions, and we will pay you at the same rate per month for
each. What do you say?”
“Glad to have you again,” said Rolf: “we'll come for you on August
fifteenth; but remember you should bring your guitar and your
spectacles.”
“One word,” said the governor, “do you know the canoe route through
Champlain to Canada?”
“Quonab does.”
“Could you undertake to render scout service in that region?”
The Indian nodded.
“In case of war, we may need you both, so keep your ears open.”
And once more the canoe made for the north, with Quonab in the stern and
Skookum in the bow.
In less than a week they were home, and none too soon; for already the
trees were bare, and they had to break the ice on the river before they
ended their trip.
Rolf had gathered many ideas the last two-months. He did not propose to
continue all his life as a trapper. He wanted to see New York. He wanted
to plan for the future. He needed money for his plans. He and Quonab had
been running a hundred miles of traps, but some men run more than that
single handed. They must get out two new lines at once, before the frost
came. One of these they laid up the Hudson, above Eagle's Nest; the
other northerly on Blue Mountain, toward Racquet River. Doing this was
hard work, and when they came again to their cabin the robins had gone
from the bleak and leafless woods; the grouse were making long night
flights; the hollows had tracks of racing deer; there was a sense of
omen, a length of gloom, for the Mad Moon was afloat in the shimmering
sky; its wan light ghasted all the hills.
Next day the lake was covered with thin, glare ice; on the glassy
surface near the shore were two ducks floundering. The men went as near
as they could, and Quonab said, “No, not duck, but Shingebis, divers.
They cannot rise except from water. In the night the new ice looks like
water; they come down and cannot rise. I have often seen it.” Two days
after, a harder frost came on. The ice was safe for a dog; the divers or
grebes were still on its surface. So they sent Skookum. He soon returned
with two beautiful grebes, whose shining, white breast feathers are as
much prized as some furs.
Quonab grunted as he held them up. “Ugh, it is often so in this Mad
Moon. My father said it is because of Kaluskap's dancing.”
“I don't remember that one.”
“Yes, long ago. Kaluskap felt lazy. He wanted to eat, but did not wish
to hunt, so he called the bluejay and said: 'Tell all the woods that
to-morrow night Kaluskap gives a new dance and teaches a new song,'
and he told the hoot owl to do the same, so one kept it up all
day--'Kaluskap teaches a new dance to-morrow night,' and the other kept
it up all night: 'Kaluskap teaches a new song at next council.'
“Thus it came about that all the woods and waters sent their folk to the
dance.
“Then Kaluskap took his song-drum and said: 'When I drum and sing you
must dance in a circle the same way as the sun, close your eyes tightly,
and each one shout his war whoop, as I cry “new songs”!'
“So all began, with Kaluskap drumming in the middle, singing:
“'New songs from the south, brothers, Close your eyes tightly, brothers,
Dance and learn a new song.
“As they danced around, he picked out the fattest, and, reaching out
one hand, seized them and twisted their necks, shouting out, 'More
war-cries, more poise! that's it; now you are learning!'
“At length Shingebis the diver began to have his doubts and he
cautiously opened one eye, saw the trick, and shouted: 'Fly, brothers,
fly! Kaluskap is killing us!'
“Then all was confusion. Every one tried to escape, and Kaluskap, in
revenge, tried to kill the Shingebis. But the diver ran for the water
and, just as he reached the edge, Kaluskap gave him a kick behind that
sent him half a mile, but it knocked off all his tail feathers and
twisted his shape so that ever since his legs have stuck out where his
tail was, and he cannot rise from the land or the ice. I know it is so,
for my father, Cos Cob, told me it was true, and we ourselves have seen
it. It is ever so. To go against Kaluskap brings much evil to brood
over.”
A few nights later, as they sat by their fire in the cabin, a curious
squeaking was heard behind the logs. They had often heard it before, but
never so much as now. Skookum turned his head on one side, set his ears
at forward cock. Presently, from a hole 'twixt logs and chimney, there
appeared a small, white breasted mouse.
Its nose and ears shivered a little; its black eyes danced in the
firelight. It climbed up to a higher log, scratched its ribs, then
rising on its hind legs, uttered one or two squeaks like those they had
heard so often, but soon they became louder and continuous:
“Peg, peo, peo, peo, peo, peo, peo, oo. Tree, tree, tree, tree,
trrrrrrr, Turr, turr, turr, tur, tur, Wee, wee, wee, we”--
The little creature was sitting up high on its hind legs, its belly
muscles were working, its mouth was gaping as it poured out its music.
For fully half a minute this went on, when Skookum made a dash; but the
mouse was quick and it flashed into the safety of its cranny.
Rolf gazed at Quonab inquiringly.
“That is Mish-a-boh-quas, the singing mouse. He always comes to tell of
war. In a little while there will be fighting.”