rolf in the woods-第32部分

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Once　or　twice　he　threw　into　the　air　a　tuft　of　dry　grass　to　make

sure　that　the　wind　was　right；　and　by　slow　degrees　he　reached　the

edge　of　a　little　opening。



Across　this　he　peered　long；　without　entering　it。　　Then　he　made　a

sweep　with　his　hand　and　pointed；　to　let　Quonab　know　the　buck　had

gone　across　and　he　himself　must　go　around。　　But　he　lingered　still

and　with　his　eyes　swept　the　near　woods。　　Then；　dim　gray　among　the

gray　twigs；　he　saw　a　slight　movement；　so　slight　it　might　have

been　made　by　the　tail　of　a　tomtit。　　But　it　fixed　his　attention；

and　out　of　this　gray　haze　he　slowly　made　out　the　outline　of　a

deer's　head；　antlers；　and　neck。　　A　hundred　yards　away；　but　〃take

a　chance　when　it　comes〃　is　hunter　wisdom。　　Rolf　glanced　at　the

sight；　took　steady　aim；　fired；　and　down　went　the　buck　behind　a

log。　　Skookum　whined　and　leaped　high　in　his　eagerness　to　see。

Rolf　restrained　his　impatience　to　rush　forward；　at　once　reloaded；

then　all　three　went　quickly　to　the　place。　　Before　they　were

within　fifty　yards；　the　deer　leaped　up　and　bounded　off。　　At

seventy…five　yards；　it　stood　for　a　moment　to　gaze。　　Rolf　fired

again；　again　the　buck　fell　down；　but　jumped　to　its　feet　and

bounded　away。



They　went　to　the　two　places；　but　found　no　blood。　Utterly　puzzled；

they　gave　it　up　for　the　day；　as　already　the　shades　of　night　were

on　the　woods；　and　in　spite　of　Skookum's　voluble　offer　to　solve

and　settle　everything；　they　returned　to　the　cabin。



〃What　do　you　make　of　it；　Quonab？'



The　Indian　shook　his　head；　then：　〃Maybe　touched　his　head　and

stunned　him；　first　shot；　second；　wah！　　I　not　know。〃



〃I　know　this；〃　said　Rolf。　　〃I　touched　him　and　I　mean　to　get　him

in　the　morning。〃



True　to　this　resolve；　he　was　there　again　at　dawn；　but　examined

the　place　in　vain　for　a　sign　of　blood。　　The　red　rarely　shows　up

much　on　leaves；　grass；　or　dust；　but　there　are　two　kinds　of　places

that　the　hunter　can　rely　on　as　　telltales　　stones　and　logs。

Rolf　followed　the　deer　track；　now　very　dim；　till　at　a　bare　place

he　found　a　speck　of　blood　on　a　pebble。　　Here　the　trail　joined

onto　a　deer　path；　with　so　many　tracks　that　it　was　hard　to　say

which　was　the　right　one。　　But　Rolf　passed　quickly　along　to　a　log

that　crossed　the　runway；　and　on　that　log　he　found　a　drop　of

dried…up　blood　that　told　him　what　he　wished　to　know。



Now　he　had　a　straight　run　of　a　quarter　of　a　mile；　and　from　time

to　time　he　saw　a　peculiar　scratching　mark　that　puzzled　him。　　Once

he　found　a　speck　of　blood　at　one　of　these　scratches　but　no　other

evidence　that　the　buck　was　touched。



A　wounded　deer　is　pretty　sure　to　work　down　hill；　and　Quonab；

leaving　Skookum　with　Rolf；　climbed　a　lookout　that　might　show

whither　the　deer　was　heading。



After　another　half　mile；　the　deer　path　forked；　there　were　buck

trails　on　both；　and　Rolf　could　not　pick　out　the　one　he　wanted。

He　went　a　few　yards　along　each；　studying　the　many　marks；　but　was

unable　to　tell　which　was　that　of　the　wounded　buck。



Now　Skookum　took　a　share　in　it。　　He　had　always　been　forbidden　to

run　deer　and　knew　it　was　a　contraband　amusement；　　but　he　put　his

nose　to　that　branch　of　the　trail　that　ran　down　hill；　followed　it

for　a　few　yards；　then　looked　at　Rolf；　as　much　as　to　say：　〃You

poor　nose…blind　creature；　don't　you　know　a　fresh　deer　track　when

you　smell　it？　Here　it　is；　this　is　where　he　went。〃



Rolf　stared；　then　said；　〃I　believe　he　means　it〃；　and　followed　the

lower　trail。　　Very　soon　he　came　to　another　scrape；　and；　just

beyond　it；　found　the　new；　velvet…covered　antler　of　a　buck；　raw

and　bloody；　and　splintered　at　the　base。



From　this　on；　the　task　was　easier；　as　there　were　no　other　tracks；

and　this　was　pointing　steadily　down　hill。



Soon　Quonab　came　striding　along。　　He　had　not　seen　the　buck；　but　a

couple　of　jays　and　a　raven　were　gathered　in　a　thicket　far　down　by

the　stream。　　The　hunters　quit　the　trail　and　made　for　that　place。

As　they　drew　near；　they　found　the　track　again；　and　again　saw

those　curious　scrapes。



Every　hunter　knows　that　the　bluejay　dashing　about　a　thicket　means

that　hidden　there　is　game　of　some　kind；　probably　deer。　　Very；

very　slowly　and　silently　they　entered　that　copse。　　But　nothing

appeared　until　there　was　a　rush　in　the　thickest　part　and　up

leaped　the　buck。　　This　was　too　much　for　Skookum。　　He　shot　forward

like　a　wolf；　fastened　on　one　hind　leg；　and　the　buck　went　crashing

head　over　heels。　　Before　it　could　rise；　another　shot　ended　its

troubles。　　And　now　a　careful　study　shed　the　light　desired。　Rolf's

first　shot　had　hit　the　antler　near　the　base；　breaking　it；　except

for　the　skin　on　one　side；　and　had　stunned　the　buck。　　The　second

shot　had　broken　a　hind　leg。　　The　scratching　places　he　had　made

were　efforts　to　regain　the　use　of　this　limb；　and　at　one　of　them

the　deer　had　fallen　and　parted　the　rag　of　skin　by　which　the

antler　hung。



It　was　Rolf's　first　important　trailing　on　the　ground；　it　showed

how　possible　it　was；　and　how　quickly　he　was　learning　the　hardest

of　all　the　feats　of　woodcraft。







Chapter　49。　Rolf　Gets　Lost



Every　one　who　lives　in　the　big　woods　gets　lost　at　some　time。　Yes；

even　Daniel　Boone　did　sometimes　go　astray。　And　whether　it　is　to

end　as　a　joke　or　a　horrible　tragedy　depends　entirely　on　the　way

in　which　the　person　takes　it。　This　is；　indeed；　the　grand　test　of

a　hunter　and　scout；　the　trial　of　his　knowledge；　his　muscle；　and；

above　everything；　his　courage；　and；　like　all　supreme　trials；　it

comes　without　warning。



The　wonderful　flocks　of　wild　pigeons　had　arrived。　For　a　few　days

in　May　they　were　there　in　millions；　swarming　over　the　ground　in

long…reaching　hordes；　walking　along；　pecking　and　feeding；　the

rearmost　flying　on　ahead；　ever　to　the　front。　The　food　they　sought

so　eagerly　now　was　chiefly　the　seeds　of　the　slippery　elm；　tiny

nuts　showered　down　on　wings　like　broad…brimmed　hats。　And　when　the

flock　arose　at　some　alarm；　the　sound　was　like　that　of　the　sea

beach　in　a　storm。



There　seemed　to　be　most　pigeons　in　the　low　country　southeast　of

the　lake；　of　course；　because；　being　low；　it　had　most　elms。　So

Rolf　took　his　bow　and　arrows；　crossed　in　the　canoe；　and

confidently　set　about　gathering　in　a　dozen　or　two　for　broilers。



It　is　amazing　how　well　the　game　seems　to　gauge　the　range　of

your　weapon　and　keep　the　exact　safe　distance。　It　is　marvellous

how　many　times　you　may　shoot　an　arrow　into　a　flock　of　pigeons　and

never　kill　one。　Rolf　went　on　and　on；　always　in　sight　of　the　long；

straggling　flocks　on　the　ground　or　in　the　air；　but　rarely　within

range　of　them。　Again　and　again　he　fired　a　random　shot　into　the

distant　mass；　without　success　for　two　hours。　Finally　a　pigeon　was

touched　and　dropped；　but　it　rose　as　he　ran　forward；　and　flew　ten

yards；　to　drop　once　more。　Again　he　rushed　at　it；　but　it　fluttered

out　of　reach　and　so　led　him　on　and　on　for　about　half　an　hour's

breathless　race；　until　at　last　he　stopped；　took　deliberate　aim；

and　killed　it　with　an　arrow。



Now　a　peculiar　wailing　and　squealing　from　the　woods　far　ahead

attracted　him。　He　stalked　and　crawled　for　many　minutes　before　he

found　out；　as　he　should　have　known；　that　it　was　caused　by　a

mischievous　bluejay。



At　length　he　came　to　a　spring　in　a　low　hollow；　and　leaving　his

bow　and　arrows　on　a　dry　log；　he　went　down　to　get　a　drink



As　he　arose；　he　found　himself　face　to　face　with　a　doe　and　a　fat；

little　yearling　buck；　only　twenty　yards　away。　They　stared　at　him；

quite　unalarmed；　and；　determining　to　add　the　yearling　to　his　bag；

Rolf　went　back　quietly　to　his　bow　and　arrows。



~The　deer　were　just　out　of　range　now；　but　inclined　to　take　a

curious　interest　in　the　hunter。　Once　when　he　stood　still　for　a

long　time；　they　walked　forward　two　or　three　steps；　but　whenever

he　advanced；　they　trotted　farther　away。



To　kill　a　deer　with　an　arrow　is　quite　a　feat　of　woodcraft；　and

Rolf　was　keen　to　show　his　prowess；　so　he　kept　on　with　varying

devices；　and　was　continually　within　sight　of　the　success　that　did

not　actually　arrive。



Then　the　deer　grew　wilder　and　loped　away；　as　he　entered　another

valley　that　was　alive　with　pigeons。



He　was　feeling　hungry　now；　so　he　plucked　the　pigeon　he　had

secured；　made　a　fire　with　the　flint　and　steel　he　always　carried；

then　roasted　the　bird　carefully　on　a　stick。　and　having　eaten　it；

felt　ready　for　more　travel。



The　day　was　cloudy；　so　he　could　not　see　the　sun；　but　he　knew　it

was　late；　and　he　made　for　camp。



The　country　he　found　himself　in　was　entirely　strange　to　him；　and

the　sun's　whereabouts　doubtful；　but　he　knew　the　general　line　of

travel　and　strode　along　rapidly　toward　the　place　where　he　had

left　the　canoe。



After　two　hours'　tramping；　he　was　surprised　at　not　seeing　the

lake　through　the　trees；　and　he　added　to　his　pace。



Three　hours　passed　and　still　no　sign　of　the　water。



He　began　to　think　he　had　struck　too　far　to　the　north；　so

corrected　his　course　and　strode　along　with　occasional　spells　of

trotting。　But　another　hour　wore　away　arid　no　lake　appeared。



Then　Rolf　knew　he　was　off　his　bearings。　He　climbed　a　tree　and　got

a　partial　view　of　the　country。　To　the　right　was　a　small　hill。　He

made　for　that。　The　course　led　him　through　a　hollow。　In　this　he

recognized　two　huge　basswood　trees；　that　gave　him　a　reassuring

sense。　A　little　farther　he　came　on　a　spring；　strangely　like　the

one　he　had　left　some　hours　ago。　As　he　stooped　to　drink；　he　saw

deer　　tracks；　then　a　human　track。　He　studied　it。　Assuredly　it　was

his　own　track；　though　now　it　seemed　on　the　south　side　instead　of

the　north。　He　stared　at　the　dead　gray　sky；　hoping　for　sign　of

sun；　but　it　gave　no　hint。　He　tramped　off　hastily　toward　the　hill

that　promised　a　lookout。　He　went　faster　and　faster。　In　half　an

hour　the　woods　opened　a　little；　then　dipped。　He　hastened　down；

and　at　the　bottom　found　himself　standing　by　the　same　old　spring；

though　again　it　had　changed　its　north　bearing。



He　was　stunned　by　this　succession　of　blows。　He　knew　now　he　was