CHAPTER III
IN WHICH ARE DETAILS OF A GREAT FOX HUNT
When the winter came there were a great many quail about our barn.Smiling Bill Smith, who worked for us,--Old Bill Smiley some folkscalled him, on account of the broad grin he always wore,--said to me:--
"Them whales, Ben, pretty near bother the life out of me. They creep inthrough the cracks and crannies and eat the grain. If I go over by thegrain chest, the first thing I know, there's a whir, and a cloud of themdarts up in front of my face. Sometimes it makes my heart come right upin my mouth. I wish there wasn't a whale round the place."
"Quails, Bill. What makes you call them whales?"
"Whales I heard them called when I was a boy, and whales they are tome."
[Sidenote: CATCHING QUAIL]
"Perhaps you think it was one of these whales that swallowed Jonah?"
"I never did think so, Benny. But if he did, it was a miracle, sureenough."
Davy helped me make a figure-4 trap to catch them. One Saturday morningI met Edmund down at John Buckman's store, trading some butter and eggsfor tea and sugar.
"Come up to the house, Edmund. I've got a figure-4 trap; and we'll catchsome quail."
We set the trap, and put some grain under the box. Several quail flewdown, hopped about, and soon discovered the grain. While they werepecking away at it, they sprang the trap. The box fell over them, and wecaught three.
"Now, Edmund, you find some grass-seed in the barn, and sprinkle it in aline from the door. And I'll go and get the gun, and we'll take a rakingshot at them."
I went after the gun, and gave it to him. We hid in the barn, and beforelong some more quail flew down and began to eat the seed. When they werewell in line he fired, and killed four and wounded several. The woundedones hopped about, cried out, and took on piteously, and acted like somany little children in distress.
I did not like this at all, and Edmund seemed very much troubled.
"Come on, Edmund. We've got to kill those that are sure to die. The restwe will put in a box with some hay, and perhaps they will get well."
We wrung the necks of three, and put the others in a box and covered itover.
Then we looked at each other, and Edmund opened his basket, and letthose we had caught fly away.
"No more quail shooting for me, Ben. They're too human. By George, Iknow just how a murderer feels."
One snowy winter day, Davy came to our barn, where I was foddering thecattle, and said:--
"Ben, this storm will be over to-morrow, and will make fine snowshoeing.Amos Locke is going with me fox-hunting, and we want you to come too."
[Sidenote: INVITATION TO A FOX HUNT]
"I don't know that I can go. Let's talk it over with my brother John."
When John heard us he said: "I guess I can fix things so that you canget off. Pitch in, work hard, and do some of the stints that father setyou for to-morrow, and I will look after your chores."
By the time mother came to the door and blew the horn for supper, we haddone a great deal of work.
After supper I lit a big pine knot and placed it in the side of thefireplace, so that the smoke from it would go up the chimney. It threw apleasant light out into the room. Father was at work on an ox-bow. Johnhad a rake into which he was setting some new teeth, and I sat on astool with a wooden shovel between my legs, shelling corn; rasping theears on the iron edge of the shovel, so that the kernels fell into a bigbasket in front of me.
My little brother David was sitting on a bench in the side of the greatfireplace, reading that terrible poem by the Rev. Michael Wigglesworth,called the "Day of Doom," which tells all about the day ofjudgment,--how the sinners are doomed to burn eternally in brimstone;and the saints are represented as seated comfortably in their armchairsin heaven, looking down into the sulphurous pit.
I used to wonder how Mr. Wigglesworth got so thorough a knowledge ofthese two places and of judgment day, and doubts crept into my mind asto the accuracy of his description. When I thought of Bishop Hancockseated in one of those armchairs, I knew that his soul, at least, wouldbe full of pity and sorrow for the poor sufferers below, and I felt thatthe saints ought to be a good deal like him.
I did not envy David his book. It seemed to me that every now and then Icould see his hair rise up and his eyes bulge out with terror.
Mother stood by the woollen wheel, spinning, and my little sister Ruhamasat near her, knitting.
The fire lit up the room and made the pewter dishes on the dressershine.
Above us, hanging from the rafters, were bunches of herbs, crooked-necksquashes, and poles on which were strung circular slices of pumpkinwhich were drying, to be made into sauce in the future.
[Sidenote: THE "DAY OF DOOM"]
David shut up his book, went to mother, and said: "Oh, mother, mother!I'm scared to death. Do you suppose I've got to go to hell?"
"No, David. You're a good little boy. Just learn your catechism, go tomeeting, and be a good boy, and I guess you'll come out all right."
I remembered well how I felt as I read that book, and the hours ofanguish that it caused me. David got some apples, placed them on thehearth in front of the fire; and, in watching them roast and sputter, hesoon forgot his fears.
John began to talk to father about old times, and soon got him startedtelling stories about hunting.
"Yes, I used to go after wild turkeys with Will Munroe, the blacksmith,when I was a boy. One day we met Ben Wellington, and he said he had justcome down the Back Road, and had seen a bear in a huckleberry patch,and if we'd go with him, we could kill him. He borrowed a gun of TomFessenden, and we drew our charges, and loaded with a bullet and somebuckshot. When we got to the place, we crept along carefully, and sawthe bear stripping off the huckleberries and eating them. He was so busyhe didn't notice us, and we got quite close to him. Will and I fired,and he rose and turned to us, and Ben fired. We ran off a little, loadedagain, and went back, and found the bear was dead.
"In the winter we used to go fox-hunting. What fun we had! I vum, I'dlike to go now."
This gave John a good opening, and he said: "Young David Fiske and AmosLocke are going after foxes to-morrow, and they want Ben to go withthem. Benny worked hard to-day, and did most of the jobs that you laidout for him to do to-morrow; and I told him that if you would let himgo, I would do his chores."
"Well," said father, "one can't be young but once in one's life. Icertainly did have great fun hunting when I was a boy; and if you'll doBenny's chores, I think we can manage to let him go. But it was a prettysly trick of yours, John, to lead the talk around to hunting, and get meworked up over it, before you said anything about to-morrow."
[Sidenote: LUXURIOUS LIVING]
"I thought it would be a good idea to make you remember how much youliked it yourself."
The clock struck nine, and we got up and put our things away. Fatherread a chapter from the Bible. Then I raked up a great mass of redcoals, and covered them carefully with ashes to keep them alive till themorning.
John and I went up to the attic, where we slept; and as I undressed andlay down in my straw bed, I could hear the wind hum and whistle as itcaught on the roof, and cold draughts swept through the attic.
I pulled the blankets and comforter closely about me, and was soonasleep, dreaming of foxes.
When I awoke, I jumped out of bed and stepped into some snow that hadsifted in through the cracks and formed a little drift over my leatherbreeches, which were frozen hard as a board. I shook the snow off them,and, grabbing up my clothes, ran downstairs, pulled the ashes off thecoals, and fanned them till they were bright, and built a good fire inthe fireplace. I warmed my leather breeches over the fire till they weresoftened so that I could get into them.
It was a little after five o'clock. The snowstorm was over, and the moonwas shining bright.
Mother came in and said, "Well, Benny, you've built me a nice fire, andI hope you'll have a good time."
She hung a pot with some hasty pudding in
it over the fire, warmed itup, and fried some pork in the skillet. I brought up a jug of cider fromthe cellar, and as I was eating breakfast, father came in and took downthe gun from over the fireplace. "I think I'll put a new flint in thegun, Ben. You don't want to miss fire when you get a chance to shoot ata fox. Be careful of the gun. You know it belonged to your Uncle John,and he had it with him when he was killed in the Indian fight up toYork, the same time that Ben Muzzy was captivated and carried off. Inever take it down without thinking of John. He was dreadful fond ofhunting, just as you be, Benny. You put me in mind of him."
[Sidenote: BEN STARTS FOR THE FOX HUNT]
I pulled some long stockings that belonged to my brother John over myown shoes and stockings, put on my woollen frock, and buckled my beltround my waist. Father handed me the gun, and said, "Give my respects toDr. Fiske, Benny, and good luck to ye."
When I got outdoors, I slipped my toes under the thongs of the rackets,and shuffled along over the fields till I got to the road. The moon wasbright, and everything was distinct and clear.
I skimmed along over the snow, and William Munroe, the blacksmith, cameout of his house near the foot of the common, just as I was passing.
"Hello, Benny, you're up early to-day. Where are you bound for?"
"Fox-hunting with Davy Fiske."
"Well, he's a good one at it, and it will be a fine day."
The meeting-house was covered with a casing of snow. As I passed by thecommon I could see lights in Sam Jones's house and in old John Muzzy's.I kept on up the road by Jonas Parker's, and when I came in sight of Dr.Fiske's place, Davy was outside, waiting for me.
"Hello, Ben! Where have you been? I've been waiting for you these twohours."
"Oh, pshaw, Davy. This is plenty early. You can't see the least bit ofdaylight yet, and one can't do much with foxes till the sun is well upand warms the scent."
The doctor came to the door and said:--
"Don't mind David, Benny. You're early enough. But he's crazy abouthunting, and wants to be at it all the time. It would be better for himif he spent less time at it."
"Father told me to give his respects to you, sir."
"All right, Benny. Now, boys, take things easy, or you'll be tired outbefore you see a fox."
[Sidenote: ZABDIEL]
As Davy and I skimmed along over the snow, the day began to break. Wehad only one dog with us, but he was a real good one. His name wasZabdiel.
"That's a good dog, Davy, but he's got the funniest name for a dog Iever heard. How did he get it?"
"Oh, I dunno! Father gave it to him. There was a doctor in Bostonstarted this inoculation business for the smallpox. Folks were aboutready to tear his house down; but he kept on inoculating, his patientsdidn't die, and finally people let up on him. Father thinks a heap ofthis inoculation and sets a store by this Dr. Zabdiel Boylston, andnamed his best horse and dog after him."
"But I should think we ought to have more than one dog with us, Davy."
"Well, ain't we going over to Dog Lane, to pick up little Amos Locke?Every one over there hunts and has a dog. When we get there, you'll findAmos walking up and down, and all the dogs of Dog Lane following him.You won't be looking for dogs when you get there. The question will be,how to get rid of them."
Just then Davy held up his hand. "Hush, Ben," and pointed to a spotwhere the snow had been shaken up. "Give me a racket." I did so. He heldit over the spot, and stuck his hand under it into the snow. Somethingdarted up against the racket, and at the same time I was covered withsnow from head to foot, and a partridge flew off. Davy laughed. "Whydidn't you catch him, Ben? I got one." He drew his hand out with apartridge in it. He twisted its neck, and we started on again.
"The partridges dive down into the snow, and sleep there, but I don'tsee why those two went to bed so late after the storm was over.Something must have disturbed them. If I hadn't the racket to clap overthe place, I should have lost him. I learned that trick from AmosLocke's father.
"But there is Amos, waiting for us, with all the dogs of Dog Lane abouthim. What did I tell you about dogs?"
"Isn't Amos rather young to go fox-hunting, Davy?"
[Sidenote: AMOS LOCKE]
"Sho! That's all you know about it. That little hatchet-faced fellow istougher than a boiled owl, and knows almost as much about foxes andbirds as I do, and that's saying a good deal. He's big, too, for hisage, and will be pretty strong, though I don't suppose he will be asstrong as you are. What do you do, Ben, to make you so strong? I couldwalk the legs off of you; but you've got a terrible grip, and throw mejust as easy as nothing at all. If you keep on, you'll be as good awrestler as Jonas Parker; and he's the best the whole country round. Howdo you get so strong?"
"Oh, I dunno! Father's strong, and mother's strong. Comes natural, Isuppose."
"Well, perhaps so. Father's a doctor, and my brothers are going to bedoctors; but I ain't. I'm going to be a hunter."
Amos shouted: "Hello, Dave and Ben! Where have you been? I'd aboutg-g-given you up." Amos stammered a little, except when he was stirredup, and then he stammered a good deal.
"Now, don't you get excited, sonny. We've got the whole day before us.Do you own all these dogs?"
"Oh, d-darn it, Davy, I can't help it. The whole pack of them keepfollowing me all the time, and if I've got a gun, they stick to me likeg-g-glue."
"Well! They're beauties. Regular full-blooded foxhounds, every one ofthem."
"Oh, get out, Dave. They may not be p-p-pretty, but they hunt almost asg-good as Zabdiel. Come here, Zab, old boy. I've been trying to get ridof them for the last two hours. But they seem to g-g-get out about asfast as I p-put them in."
"Well, come on over to Bear's Hill. That's the best place. Call yourbeauties in."
We kept on past Corner Hedge and Pine Grove till we came to ListeningHill. There the hounds struck a scent, lifted up their heads, bayed, andstarted off on the trail.
At first they went along the foot of Listening Hill, then up it, andover the top. We had to take our rackets off, for it was so rocky anduneven that we could not use them. The rocks stuck up through the snow.Holding our rackets under our left arms and our guns in our right hands,we followed over the crest of the hill, along the high land, and thendown the slope. Here we put on our rackets again. The dogs were farahead of us. We came to low land with a brook running through it, and inthe distance could see the dogs.
[Sidenote: BEAVER HOLES]
"Hold on, boys," said Davy; "this won't do. That fox is too many forus." And putting his fingers to his mouth, he gave three shrillwhistles. "That will call Zab back. It won't do for us to go foolinground on that swamp. It's full of holes, six to eight feet deep, thatthey call beaver holes. I don't know why; perhaps the beaver made themwhen they were here. If you get into one of them, it's all up with you,and the snow covers everything up so smooth that we can't tell wherethey are. That fox don't live here anyway, and is making straight forhome, and he may live ten miles off.
"There's a nice spring of water in the side of Listening Hill. We'dbetter go over to it and have something to eat, and then we can startout again."
We went to the spring and had a good drink. Then we took out the foodthat our mothers had put up for us. We munched away, and before long Zabcame back.
"I wonder where those other fool dogs are," said Davy.
"Oh, they're all right. They'll come to Dog Lane to-night all b-beatout, and they'll let me alone for a week."
"I tell you what it is," said Davy. "We ought never to have gone on thattrail. We ought to have gone to Bear's Hill, just as we started to.There's always some foxes at Bear's Hill that live there, and don't wantto leave home. Let's go after them."
After we had eaten our fill we threw the rest of our food on the snow,and Zab gulped it down in no time and had a contented look, probablythinking of those other dogs with their empty bellies.
We started off for Bear's Hill, and Davy said: "This is a different kindof a place. Foxes that you find here belong here
."
[Sidenote: THE FOX HUNT]
We came on a fox track, and Zab started off on it, and we after him.First we went along one side of the hill, then over it, and we had totake off our rackets again. Then along the foot of the hill, and Davysaid: "He lives here. We'll get him. Pull off your frock, Ben." And hebegan to pull off his.
"Now, Amos, you go up that lane till you come to a gap in the hill. Astone wall crosses it, and almost always when you hunt round this hill,the fox comes down that gully to the stone wall. Get behind a bush nearthe wall; and you'll see the fox come down the hollow to it. And he willput his fore paws up on the wall, and wait a moment to hark for the dog.When he does that, you give it to him. Take our frocks, and if you feelcold, put one of them on. Wait there, and keep your eyes and ears open."
Amos went up the lane, and we followed Zab. At last he seemed to becoming somewhat toward us.
"Let's spread out a bit, Ben, and try to head the fox off."
He ran to the right, and I followed him, at some distance behind. Wecould hear that Zab was coming nearer, as we ran, and at last we heard abang.
"The little cuss has got him, I'll bet you. Come on, Ben."
We ran on and came to the gully; and at the lower end of it was Amos,with my frock on, which reached down to the ground. He was holding upthe fox, and Zab was jumping up and down.
"Good boy, Amos! Now tell us about it."
"Well, I did just as you t-t-told me, Davy. I went up the lane till Ic-came to the gully and saw the stone wall. I found a good b-bush abouttwenty-five yards from the wall, and got behind it and waited till Ibegan to feel c-cold. I pulled Ben's frock on, and left the neck of itopen so that I could get the stock of the gun in to my shoulder, andspread out your f-frock and knelt on it. Then I heard Zab, and knew thathe was c-coming toward me. I got ready and saw the fox creeping down theg-gully, and he did just as you said he would. When he got to the wallhe p-put his fore paws upon it, p-pricked up his ears, and moved themforward and back as he listened for Zab, and I f-fired. I aimed at hisb-b-breast and p-put two b-buckshot in his breast and one in his neck."
[Sidenote: DR. FISKE HAS A PATIENT]
"Yer done well, Amos. I couldn't a done better myself. He has a good furand is a mighty fine fox."
It was getting pretty well along in the afternoon, and we thought we hadhad enough of hunting. I picked up the fox and carried it for Amos tillwe reached Dog Lane, when he left us. We found the partridge where wehad tied it to a branch.
When we reached Dr. Fiske's, his sleigh was in front of the door. Thedoctor had put on a small riding wig with an eelskin cue, and wasgetting into his greatcoat.
"You're just in time, Benny; old Francis Whittemore, down at the EastVillage, has had a fit; and I've got to go and see what I can do forhim. The old man has too much blood, and it's gone to his head. We mustbleed him. Take the lancets, Jonathan, and the basin too, and a bottleof Daffy's Elixir. There's nothing like it to tone up the stomach. Nowwe are all ready. Tie your rackets on behind and sit in the bottom ofthe sleigh, Ben."
The doctor and his son Jonathan got in, and I sat in the straw till thedoctor pulled up and let me out not far from our house.