From the day that Karr went to live with the game-keeper he abandoned
entirely his forbidden chase in the forest. This was due not only to his
having been thoroughly frightened, but also to the fact that he did not
wish to make the game-keeper angry at him. Ever since his new master
saved his life the dog loved him above everything else. He thought only
of following him and watching over him. If he left the house, Karr would
run ahead to make sure that the way was clear, and if he sat at home,
Karr would lie before the door and keep a close watch on every one who
came and went.
When all was quiet at the lodge, when no footsteps were heard on the
road, and the game-keeper was working in his garden, Karr would amuse
himself playing with the baby elk.
At first the dog had no desire to leave his master even for a moment.
Since he accompanied him everywhere, he went with him to the cow shed.
When he gave the elk calf its milk, the dog would sit outside the stall
and gaze at it. The game-keeper called the calf Grayskin because he
thought it did not merit a prettier name, and Karr agreed with him on
that point.
Every time the dog looked at it he thought that he had never seen
anything so ugly and misshapen as the baby elk, with its long, shambly
legs, which hung down from the body like loose stilts. The head was
large, old, and wrinkled, and it always drooped to one side. The skin
lay in tucks and folds, as if the animal had put on a coat that had not
been made for him. Always doleful and discontented, curiously enough he
jumped up every time Karr appeared as if glad to see him.
The elk calf became less hopeful from day to day, did not grow any, and
at last he could not even rise when he saw Karr. Then the dog jumped up
into the crib to greet him, and thereupon a light kindled in the eyes of
the poor creature--as if a cherished longing were fulfilled.
After that Karr visited the elk calf every day, and spent many hours
with him, licking his coat, playing and racing with him, till he taught
him a little of everything a forest animal should know.
It was remarkable that, from the time Karr began to visit the elk calf
in his stall, the latter seemed more contented, and began to grow. After
he was fairly started, he grew so rapidly that in a couple of weeks the
stall could no longer hold him, and he had to be moved into a grove.
When he had been in the grove two months his legs were so long that he
could step over the fence whenever he wished. Then the lord of the manor
gave the game-keeper permission to put up a higher fence and to allow
him more space. Here the elk lived for several years, and grew up into a
strong and handsome animal. Karr kept him company as often as he could;
but now it was no longer through pity, for a great friendship had sprung
up between the two. The elk was always inclined to be melancholy,
listless, and, indifferent, but Karr knew how to make him playful and
happy.
Grayskin had lived for five summers on the game-keeper's place, when his
owner received a letter from a zoölogical garden abroad asking if the
elk might be purchased.
The master was pleased with the proposal, the game-keeper was
distressed, but had not the power to say no; so it was decided that the
elk should be sold. Karr soon discovered what was in the air and ran
over to the elk to have a chat with him. The dog was very much
distressed at the thought of losing his friend, but the elk took the
matter calmly, and seemed neither glad nor sorry.
"Do you think of letting them send you away without offering
resistance?" asked Karr.
"What good would it do to resist?" asked Grayskin. "I should prefer to
remain where I am, naturally, but if I've been sold, I shall have to go,
of course."
Karr looked at Grayskin and measured him with his eyes. It was apparent
that the elk was not yet full grown. He did not have the broad antlers,
high hump, and long mane of the mature elk; but he certainly had
strength enough to fight for his freedom.
"One can see that he has been in captivity all his life," thought Karr,
but said nothing.
Karr left and did not return to the grove till long past midnight. By
that time he knew Grayskin would be awake and eating his breakfast.
"Of course you are doing right, Grayskin, in letting them take you
away," remarked Karr, who appeared now to be calm and satisfied. "You
will be a prisoner in a large park and will have no responsibilities. It
seems a pity that you must leave here without having seen the forest.
You know your ancestors have a saying that 'the elk are one with the
forest.' But you haven't even been in a forest!"
Grayskin glanced up from the clover which he stood munching.
"Indeed, I should love to see the forest, but how am I to get over the
fence?" he said with his usual apathy.
"Oh, that is difficult for one who has such short legs!" said Karr.
The elk glanced slyly at the dog, who jumped the fence many times a
day--little as he was.
He walked over to the fence, and with one spring he was on the other
side, without knowing how it happened.
Then Karr and Grayskin went into the forest. It was a beautiful
moonlight night in late summer; but in among the trees it was dark, and
the elk walked along slowly.
"Perhaps we had better turn back," said Karr. "You, who have never
before tramped the wild forest, might easily break your legs." Grayskin
moved more rapidly and with more courage.
Karr conducted the elk to a part of the forest where the pines grew so
thickly that no wind could penetrate them.
"It is here that your kind are in the habit of seeking shelter from cold
and storm," said Karr. "Here they stand under the open skies all winter.
But you will fare much better where you are going, for you will stand in
a shed, with a roof over your head, like an ox."
Grayskin made no comment, but stood quietly and drank in the strong,
piney air.
"Have you anything more to show me, or have I now seen the whole
forest?" he asked.
Then Karr went with him to a big marsh, and showed him clods and
quagmire.
"Over this marsh the elk take flight when they are in peril," said Karr.
"I don't know how they manage it, but, large and heavy as they are, they
can walk here without sinking. Of course you couldn't hold yourself up
on such dangerous ground, but then there is no occasion for you to do
so, for you will never be hounded by hunters."
Grayskin made no retort, but with a leap he was out on the marsh, and
happy when he felt how the clods rocked under him. He dashed across the
marsh, and came back again to Karr, without having stepped into a
mudhole.
"Have we seen the whole forest now?" he asked.
"No, not yet," said Karr.
He next conducted the elk to the skirt of the forest, where fine oaks,
lindens, and aspens grew.
"Here your kind eat leaves and bark, which they consider the choicest
of food; but you will probably get better fare abroad."
Grayskin was astonished when he saw the enormous leaf-trees spreading
like a great canopy above him. He ate both oak leaves and aspen bark.
"These taste deliciously bitter and good!" he remarked. "Better than
clover!"
"Then wasn't it well that you should taste them once?" said the dog.
Thereupon he took the elk down to a little forest lake. The water was as
smooth as a mirror, and reflected the shores, which were veiled in thin,
light mists. When Grayskin saw the lake he stood entranced.
"What is this, Karr?" he asked.
It was the first time that he had seen a lake.
"It's a large body of water--a lake," said Karr. "Your people swim
across it from shore to shore. One could hardly expect you to be
familiar with this; but at least you should go in and take a swim!"
Karr, himself, plunged into the water for a swim. Grayskin stayed back
on the shore for some little time, but finally followed. He grew
breathless with delight as the cool water stole soothingly around his
body. He wanted it over his back, too, so went farther out. Then he felt
that the water could hold him up, and began to swim. He swam all around
Karr, ducking and snorting, perfectly at home in the water.
When they were on shore again, the dog asked if they had not better go
home now.
"It's a long time until morning," observed Grayskin, "so we can tramp
around in the forest a little longer."
They went again into the pine wood. Presently they came to an open glade
illuminated by the moonlight, where grass and flowers shimmered beneath
the dew. Some large animals were grazing on this forest meadow--an elk
bull, several elk cows and a number of elk calves. When Grayskin caught
sight of them he stopped short. He hardly glanced at the cows or the
young ones, but stared at the old bull, which had broad antlers with
many taglets, a high hump, and a long-haired fur piece hanging down from
his throat.
"What kind of an animal is that?" asked Grayskin in wonderment.
"He is called Antler-Crown," said Karr, "and he is your kinsman. One of
these days you, too, will have broad antlers, like those, and just such
a mane; and if you were to remain in the forest, very likely you, also,
would have a herd to lead."
"If he is my kinsman, I must go closer and have a look at him," said
Grayskin. "I never dreamed that an animal could be so stately!"
Grayskin walked over to the elk, but almost immediately he came back to
Karr, who had remained at the edge of the clearing.
"You were not very well received, were you?" said Karr.
"I told him that this was the first time I had run across any of my
kinsmen, and asked if I might walk with them on their meadow. But they
drove me back, threatening me with their antlers."
"You did right to retreat," said Karr. "A young elk bull with only a
taglet crown must be careful about fighting with an old elk. Another
would have disgraced his name in the whole forest by retreating without
resistance, but such things needn't worry you who are going to move to a
foreign land."
Karr had barely finished speaking when Grayskin turned and walked down
to the meadow. The old elk came toward him, and instantly they began to
fight. Their antlers met and clashed, and Grayskin was driven backward
over the whole meadow. Apparently he did not know how to make use of his
strength; but when he came to the edge of the forest, he planted his
feet on the ground, pushed hard with his antlers, and began to force
Antler-Crown back.
Grayskin fought quietly, while Antler-Crown puffed and snorted. The old
elk, in his turn, was now being forced backward over the meadow.
Suddenly a loud crash was heard! A taglet in the old elk's antlers had
snapped. He tore himself loose, and dashed into the forest.
Karr was still standing at the forest border when Grayskin came along.
"Now that you have seen what there is in the forest," said Karr, "will
you come home with me?"
"Yes, it's about time," observed the elk.
Both were silent on the way home. Karr sighed several times, as if he
was disappointed about something; but Grayskin stepped along--his head
in the air--and seemed delighted over the adventure. He walked ahead
unhesitatingly until they came to the enclosure. There he paused. He
looked in at the narrow pen where he had lived up till now; saw the
beaten ground, the stale fodder, the little trough where he had drunk
water, and the dark shed in which he had slept.
"The elk are one with the forest!" he cried. Then he threw back his
head, so that his neck rested against his back, and rushed wildly into
the woods.