Finds the Red Moccasins Whole-souled Friends in Need.
"Are we not beautiful things for the feet, Sprigg? Oh, but we are! You
can't deny it! On with us, then, and away to grandpap's house! Who said
we couldn't take Sprigg to grandpap's house? Who said we couldn't take
Sprigg to young Ben Logan's house? Who said we couldn't take Sprigg to
pretty little Bertha's house? If Will-o'-the-Wisp said so, he lied! He
lied, too, if he said our Sprigg was not a brave boy! He-he-he!"
The boy knew well enough, for he heard it distinctly enough this time,
that the voice did not come from his own heart, nor yet from the
moccasins, but from a point in the air, about as high up from the ground
as his own mouth, as if he who spoke were standing in the moccasins,
face to face with him, though not even so much as a shade of a shadow
could he see.
"An elf! An elf is in the moccasins!" cried the boy, and tearing his
feet from the ground, where he had stood as rooted, fled for his life,
the moccasins following right at his heels and mockingly keeping step
for step with him, till down in a swoon he sank at the foot of an old
oak tree. How long he lay thus he never knew, but when he recovered his
senses, there before him were the red moccasins, side by side, the toe
of the left one turned slightly outward, as if he who stood in them were
taking it quite at his ease. A self-assured air, well suiting the
self-assured voice, which, in tones quite new and strange, pronounced
these words, with an emphatic pause at the end of each brief sentence:
"You may run to the green earth's end, my boy! To the sea, where the
bright sun soon shall set! To the sea, where the pale moon soon shall
rise! But, step for step, come we at your heels, though borne you be on
the wings of the wind!"
The poor boy cowered down at the foot of the old oak, and burying his
face in his coonskin cap, remained for a long time mum and motionless.
With the red moccasins, which, in a pet of disappointment and wounded
self-love, he had flung from him, had departed the marvelous stoutness
of heart and strength of limb he had felt while his feet were in them.
And now, all weak and spiritless, was he left to shift for himself, with
such resources only as a bare-footed boy, alone in the midst of a vast
wilderness, might be supposed to have at his command. Sitting thus, he
began gradually taking in some idea of the sad condition to which he had
brought himself by his vanity and disobedience, though his remorse for
the wrong of the thing, and for the sorrow it must occasion the dear
ones at home, was by no means as lively and decided as his regret for
the unpleasant consequences thereof to his own particular self. There he
was--he knew not how far away from home, sweet home!--all alone in that
wild and solitary spot, and the darksome, dismal, terrible night soon to
come creeping, creeping over his houseless head. There he was, and no
dear mam--so loving, so cheerful--to give him his bowl of bread and
milk! No dear pap--so kind, so merry--to tell him wild stories of
Indians and Will-o'-the-Wisp and Nick of the Woods! Yes, and no good,
old Pow-wow, brave old Pow-wow, to come trotting up to him, in the dear
old wag-tail way, to thrust his shaggy head into his little master's
hand for a pat or a hug! It was too much for the poor, young runaway's
heart, and out came a passionate burst of tender home-sick feeling,
though he did it as well as he could, smothering it up in his coonskin
cap. But soon again, bethinking him how he had been mocked and fooled by
the imp in the moccasins, he summoned back the pride of his young heart
and the strength of his young will, and checked his tears, lest his
weakness of feeling, like his vanity, should be made the provocation of
derision. In this condition he sat for many moments, quite motionless,
saving when the sobs, which needs must follow his tears, came heaving up
from his breast and shook his crouching little figure. Yet he did but
sulk as one who, while glum with all the world besides, is far from
being at peace with his own heart. His tear-wet face he still kept
buried in his cap, not daring to remove it from his eyes, lest they
should encounter those of the thing who stood in the moccasins, whom he
felt to be watching him all this time from up there in the clear,
unshadowed air. At the end of less than half an hour he was roused from
his unquiet thoughts by the sound of a slow, heavy tramp, at no great
distance off, followed immediately by a slight stir in the leaves and
grass near-by, which caused him to start; and, before he was aware, he
had dropped the cap from over his eyes. The moccasins had turned quite
'round, with their toes another way, as if the ear of him who stood in
them had been caught by the same sound, and he would inform himself of
the cause. Sprigg looked in the direction thus indicated, when an object
met his gaze, which caused his eyes to grow big and round, then stand
fixed in their sockets.
What the boy and the thing in the moccasins saw there was a bison
bull--and a huge beast he was. That bull of the wilderness, and of as
wild and savage an aspect, too, as you would care to behold, even within
the secure enclosure of a menagerie. His hair was long and curled, and
of dun or tawny color. A hump he had on his shoulders, which gave his
neck a downward slope to the head, and his back a downward slope to the
tail--his tail, but a short brush of a thing, scarcely reaching to his
hocks. Horns, he had, too--black horns, long and strong, and tapering to
a sharper point than is the case with horned cattle, generally speaking.
But the feature to which the monster chiefly owed his singular wildness
of appearance was his mane, which, in shaggy luxuriance, flowed from
neck, shoulders and breast, covering the legs to the knees, and veiling
the face almost to the very nose.
Now, had he seen all this in the yard at home, himself stationed on the
porch, with pap on one side, Black Bess in hand, ready to shoot; Pow-wow
on the other, ready to spring at the first intimation of hostile design
on the part of his bullship, our hero would have clapped his hands and
pronounced it a grander sight than any the old show bill could boast,
always excepting, of course, the Indian boy and Shetland pony. But
there, in that desolate spot, with not a living soul a-near, unless,
indeed, the thing in moccasins might have a soul, a bison bull were
hardly the object to awaken pleasant wonderment and lively admiration in
the mind of a lost boy, who, against a pair of long, sharp horns, could
oppose no weapon but a jack-knife, no shield but a coonskin cap.
When the boy first caught sight of him, the bull was already within easy
viewing distance, and was soon so near that, in his turn, he could not
fail to catch sight of the boy, where he still sat crouched at the foot
of the tree. This was plainly to be seen, by the way the monster stopped
short, turned square 'round, and lowered his huge, black front to stare
at the little stranger. Bright eyes, wild eyes, Sprigg now saw a bison's
eyes to be.
The fringe of mane, which veiled the face, obstructing his vision,
caused the animal, when he stared at you, to roll his eyeballs downward
till their colored circles were half hid by their lower lids, thus
leaving the upper whites exposed to view in the form of a new moon, with
the points downward. To be squinted at with the side whites of the eyes,
to a naughty boy like Sprigg is anything else but pleasant; but to be
stared at with the upper whites of the eyes, as the bison bull was now
staring at Sprigg, were enough to make you feel as if you had a
wide-awake nightmare in broad daylight.
Evidently his bullship was greatly surprised to find so small a boy, at
so late an hour, in that out-of-the-way place, without even so much as a
dog and gun to show for the business which had brought him thither.
Then, as if feeling that he had a right to investigate the matter, the
bison, with short, slow, soft steps, began shortening the distance
between himself and the object of his curiosity. Closer and closer he
came, still with his huge, black front lowered, and his crescent-like
eyes gleaming wildly out from the depths of his overshadowing mane, with
a look as if he were saying within himself: "And what wee thing is
this, up here in my bluegrass pasture?"
Sprigg could not draw his eyes from those of the beast; nor had he the
power to rise and flee from the spot, though it was well that he had not
the power to run, as in that event the bull might have been tempted to
give him chase, as things with horns are apt to do when we are trying
our best to get out of their way. Overtaking him, the bull would have
run his long, sharp horns directly under the young fugitive's arms, and,
giving him a toss high up in the air, let him drop down a-straddle of
his back, just behind the hump, for a pleasant evening ride. Understand
me, now--I am not positive in saying that this is precisely what the
bison would have done had our hero taken to his heels. Though the thing
may have happened once or twice since time began, I have never heard of
a runaway boy being chased by a bison bull; and, therefore, can only
guess how such a beast would deport himself under the circumstances. But
I am rather inclined to think he would hardly do anything more dreadful
than play the savage antic just suggested; because, a moment's
reflection would show him that to use his horns to a greater length,
were to frighten the young runaway out of his wits, and thereby
incapacitate him from being made to see and feel the error of his way.
Though, I must confess that, for my own part, I should not be willing to
trust the savage fellow a single horn's length until I had subjected him
to a certain old-fashioned test--I would first take care to see how far
I could fling the bull by the tail, and make the result the measure of
my confidence in his good intentions.
Step by step, still came the monster slowly on, and now was come so near
that the boy could feel his moist breath warming the air around him.
Another step, and their noses had been all but within touching distance
of each other. But just at that moment--just as the cry of pap! pap!
rang affrightedly out on the still evening air--the red moccasins,
which, up to this time, had remained perfectly quiet, seemed to be
seized all on a sudden with an animated interest in what was passing.
With a hop, step and jump, they were, in a twinkling, right at the
bull's nose and pouring upon it a shower of kicks, so rapid and stunning
that the beast, huge and powerful as he was, staggered backward several
paces, with a look of utter bewilderment. Nor did the pertinacious
little stunners let him off till they had forced him back to the very
brink of the steep; when, with a roar of fright and pain which shook the
lonely wilds, the monster wheeled about, and making a blind leap,
vanished over the precipice. This done, the red moccasins quietly
retraced their steps, and, with the same air of easy self-assurance,
adjusted themselves before the boy, who, not so fearful now as sullen,
buried his face once more in his coonskin cap; and never a word of
thanks to them, nor to any one else, that Sprigg was in the land of the
living.