CHAPTER X
THE BEAR HUNT
"Is Don round, Mrs. Cameron?"
"Mercy me, Hughie! Did ye sleep in the woods? Come away in. Ye're asight for sore eyes. Come away in. And how's ye're mother and all?"
"All right, thank you. Is Don in?"
"Don? He's somewhere about the barn. But come away, man, there's a bitbannock here, and some honey."
"I'm in a hurry, Mrs. Cameron, and I can't very well wait," said Hughie,trying to preserve an evenness of tone and not allow his excitement toappear.
"Well, well! What's the matter, whatever?" When Hughie refused a "bitbannock" and honey, something must be seriously wrong.
"Nothing at all, but I'm just wanting Don for a--for something."
"Well, well, just go to the old barn and cry at him."
Hughie found Don in the old barn, busy "rigging up" his plow, for theharvest was in and the fall plowing was soon to begin.
"Man, Don!" cried Hughie, in a subdued voice, "it's the greatest thingyou ever heard!"
"What is it now, Hughie? You look fairly lifted. Have you seen a ghost?"
"A ghost? No, something better than that, I can tell you."
Hughie drew near and lowered his voice, while Don worked onindifferently.
"It's a bear, Don."
Don dropped his plow. His indifference vanished. The Camerons were greathunters, and many a bear had they, with their famous black dogs, broughthome in their day, but not for the past year or two; and never had Donbagged anything bigger than a fox or a coon.
"Where did you see him?"
"I didn't see him." Don looked disgusted. "But he was in our house lastnight."
"Look here now, stop that!" said Don, gripping Hughie by the jacket andshaking him.
But Hughie's summer in the harvest-field had built up his muscles, andso he shook himself free from Don's grasp, and said, "Look out there!I'm telling you the truth. Last night father was out late and the supperthings were left on the table--some honey and stuff--and after fatherhad been asleep for a while he was wakened by some one tramping aboutthe house. He got up, came out of his room, and called out, 'Jessie,where are the matches?' And just then there was an awful crash, andsomething hairy brushed past his leg in the dark and got out of thedoor. We all came down, and there was the table upset, the dishes all onthe floor, and four great, big, deep scratches in the table."
"Pshaw! It must have been Fido."
"Fido was in the barn, and just mad to get out; and besides, the tracksare there yet behind the house. It was a bear, sure enough, and I'mgoing after him."
"You?"
"Yes, and I want you to come with the dogs."
"Oh, pshaw! Dear knows where he'll be now," said Don, considering.
"Like enough in the Big Swamp or in McLeod's beech bush. They're awfulfond of beechnuts. But the dogs can track him, can't they?"
"By jingo! I'd like to get him," said Don, kindling under Hughie'sexcitement. "Wait a bit now. Don't say a word. If Murdie hears he'llwant to come, sure, and we don't want him. You wait here till I get thegun and the dogs."
"Have you got any bullets or slugs?"
"Yes, lots. Why? Have you a gun?"
"Yes, you just bet! I've got our gun. What did you think I was going todo? Put salt on his tail? I've got it down the lane."
"All right, you wait there for me."
"Don't be long," said Hughie, slipping away.
It was half an hour before Don appeared with the gun and the dogs.
"What in the world kept you? I thought you were never coming," saidHughie, impatiently.
"I tell you it's no easy thing to get away with mother on hand, but it'sall right. Here's your bullets and slugs. I've brought some bannocks andcheese. We don't know when we'll get home. We'll pick up the track inyour brule. Does any one know you're going?"
"No, only Fusie. He wanted to come, but I wouldn't have it. Fusie getsso excited." Hughie's calmness was not phenomenal. He could hardly standstill for two consecutive seconds.
"Well, let's go," and Don set off on a trot, with one of the black dogsin leash and the other following, and after him came Hughie runninglightly.
In twenty minutes they were at the manse clearing.
"Now," said Don, pulling up, "where did you say you saw his track?"
"Just back of the house there, and round the barn, and then straight forthe brule."
The boys stood looking across the fallen timber toward the barn.
"There's Fido barking," said Hughie. "I bet he's on the scent now."
"Yes," answered Don, "and there's your father, too."
"Gimmini crickets! so it is," said Hughie, slowly. "I don't think it'sworth while going up there to get that track. Can't we get it just aswell in the woods here?" There were always things to do about the house,and besides, the minister knew nothing of Hughie's familiarity with thegun, and hence would soon have put a stop to any such rash venture asbear-hunting.
The boys waited, listening to Fido, who was running back and forwardbetween the brule and the house barking furiously. The minister seemedinterested in Fido's manoeuvres, and followed him a little way.
"Man!" said Hughie, in a whisper, "perhaps he'll go and look for the gunhimself. And Fido will find us, sure. I say, let's go."
"Let's wait a minute," said Don, "to see what direction Fido takes, andthen we'll put our dogs on."
In a few minutes Hughie breathed more freely, for his father seemed tolose his interest in Fido, and returned slowly to the house.
"Now," said Hughie, "let's get down into the brule as near Fido as wecan get."
Cautiously the boys made their way through the fallen timber, keeping asmuch as possible under cover of the underbrush. But though they huntedabout for some time, the dogs evidently got no scent, for they remainedquite uninterested in the proceedings.
"We'll have to get up closer to where Fido is," said Don, "and thesooner we get there the better."
"I suppose so," said Hughie. "I suppose I had better go. Fido willstop barking for me." So, while Don lay hid with the dogs in the brule,Hughie stole nearer and nearer to Fido, who was still chasing downtoward the brule and back to the house, as if urging some one to comeforth and investigate the strange scent he had discovered. GraduallyHughie worked his way closer to Fido until within calling distance.
Just as he was about to whistle for the dog, the back door opened andforth came the minister again. By this time Fido had passed into thebrule a little way, and could not be seen from the house. It was ananxious moment for Hughie. He made a sudden desperate resolve. He mustsecure Fido now, or else give up the chance of getting on the trail ofthe bear. So he left his place of hiding, and bending low, ran swiftlyforward until Fido caught sight of him, and hearing his voice, came tohim, barking loudly and making every demonstration of excitement andjoy. He seized the dog by the collar and dragged him down, and afterholding him quiet for a moment, hauled him back to Don.
"We'll have to take him with us," he said. "I'll put this string on hiscollar, and he'll go all right." And to this Don agreed, though veryunwillingly, for he had no confidence in Fido's hunting ability.
"I tell you he's a great fighter," said Hughie, "if we should ever getnear that bear."
"Oh, pshaw!" said Don, "he may fight dogs well enough, but when it comesto a bear, it's a different thing. Every dog is scared of a bear thefirst time he sees him."
"Well, I bet you Fido won't run from anything," said Hughie,confidently.
To their great relief they saw the minister set off in the oppositedirection across the fields.
"Thank goodness! He's off to the McRae's," said Hughie.
"Now, then," said Don, "we'll go back to the track there, and put thedogs on. You go on with Fido." And Hughie set off with Fido pullingeagerly upon the string.
When they reached the spot where Fido had been seized by Hughie,suddenly the black dog who had been following Don at some distance,stopped short and began to growl. In a moment his mate t
hrew up his noseand began sniffing about, the hair rising stiff upon his back.
"He's catching it," said Don, in an excited tone. "Here, you hold him. Imust get the other one, or he'll be off." He was not a minute too soon,for the other dog, who had been ranging about, suddenly found the trail,and with a fierce, short bark, was about to dash off when Don threwhimself upon him. In a few moments both dogs were on the leash, and setoff upon the scent at a great pace. The trail was evidently plain enoughto the dogs, for they followed hard, leading the boys deeper and deeperinto the bush.
"He's making for the Big Swamp," said Don, and on they went, with eyesand ears on the alert, expecting every moment to hear the snort of abear, or to meet him on the further side of every bunch of underbrush.
For an hour they went on at a steady trot, over and under fallen logs,splashing through water holes, crashing over dead brushwood, and tearingthrough the interlacing boughs of the thick underbrush of spruce andbalsam. The black dogs never hesitated. They knew well what was theirbusiness there, and that they kept strictly in mind. Fido, on the otherhand, who loved to roam the woods in an aimless hunt for any and everywild thing that might cross his nose, but who never had seriously huntedanything in particular, trotted good-naturedly behind Hughie with rathera bored expression on his face.
The trail, which had led them steadily north, all at once turned westand away from the swamp.
"Say," said Don, "he's making for Alan Gorrach's cabin."
"Man!" said Hughie, "that would be fine, to get him there. It's good andopen, too."
"Too open by a long way," grunted Don. "We'd never get him there."
Sure enough, the dogs led up from the swamp and along the path to Alan'scabin. The door stood open, and in answer to Don's "Horo!" Alan cameout.
"What now?" he said, glowering at Don.
"You won't be wanting any dogs to-day, Alan?" said Don, politely.
Alan glanced at him suspiciously, but said not a word.
"These are very good dogs, indeed, Alan."
"Go on your ways, now," said Alan.
"These black ones are not in very good condition, but Fido there is agood, fat dog."
Alan's wrath began to rise.
"Will you be going on, now, about your business?"
"Better take them, Alan, there's a hard winter coming on."
"Mac an' Diabhoil!" cried Alan, in a shrill voice, suddenly burstinginto fury. "I will be having your heart's blood," he cried, rushing intohis cabin.
"Come on, Hughie," cried Don, and away they rushed, following the blackdogs upon the trail of the bear.
Deeper and deeper into the swamp the dogs led the way, the goingbecoming more difficult and the underbrush thicker at every step. Afteran hour or two of hard work, the dogs began to falter, and ran hitherand thither, now on one scent and then on another, till tired out anddisgusted, Don held them in, and threw himself down upon the soft mossthat lay deep over everything.
"We're on his old tracks here," said Don, savagely, "and you can't pickout the new from the old."
"His hole must be somewhere not too far away," said Hughie.
"Yes, perhaps it is, but then again it may be across the ridge. At anyrate, we'll have some grub."
As they ate the bannocks and cheese, they pictured to themselves whatthey should do if they ever should come up with the bear.
"One thing we've got to be careful of," said Don, "and that is, not tolose our heads."
"That's so," assented Hughie, feeling quite cool and self-possessed atthe time.
"Because if you lose your head you're done for," continued Don."Remember Ken McGregor?"
"No," said Hughie.
"Didn't you ever hear that? Why, he ran into a bear, and made a drive athim with his axe, but the bear, with one paw knocked the axe clear outof his hand, and with one sweep of the other tore his insides right out.They're mighty cute, too," went on Don. "They'll pretend to be almostdead just to coax you near enough, and then they'll spin round on theirhind legs like a rooster. If they ever do catch you, the only thingto do is to lie still and make believe you're dead, and then, unlessthey're very hungry, they won't hurt you much."
After half an hour's rest, the hunting instinct awoke again within them,and the boys determined to make another attempt. After circling aboutthe swamp for some time, the boys came upon a beaten track which ledstraight through the heart of the swamp.
"I say," said Don, "this is going to strike the ridge somewhere justabout there," pointing northeast, "and if we don't see anything betweenhere and the ridge, we'll strike home that way. It'll be better walkingthan this cursed swamp, anyway. Are you tired?"
Hughie refused to acknowledge any weariness.
"Well, then, I am," said Don.
The trail was clear enough, and they were able to follow at a goodpace, so that in a few minutes, as they had expected, they struck thenortheast end of the swamp. Here again they called a halt, and tyingup the dogs, lay down upon the dry, brown leaves, lazily eating thebeechnuts and discussing their prospects of meeting the bear, and theirplans for dealing with him.
"Well, let's go on," at length said Don. "There's just a chance of ourmeeting him on this ridge. He's got a den somewhere down in the swamp,and he may be coming home this way. Besides, it'll take us all our time,now, to get home before dark. I guess there's no use keeping the dogsany longer. We'll just let them go." So saying, Don let the black dogsgo free, but after a little skirmishing through the open beech woods,the dogs appeared to lose all interest in the expedition, and kept closeto Don's heels.
Fido, on the other hand, followed, ranging the woods on either side,cheerfully interested in scaring up rabbits, ground-hogs, and squirrels.He had never known the rapture of bringing down big game, and so wascontent with whatever came his way.
At length the hunters reached the main trail where their pathsseparated; but a little of the swamp still remained, and on the otherside was the open clearing.
"This is your best way," said Don, pointing out the path to Hughie. "Wehad bad luck to-day, but we'll try again. We may meet him still, youknow, so don't fire at any squirrel or anything. If I hear a shot I'llcome to you, and you do the same by me."
"I say," said Hughie, "where does this track of mine come out? Is itbelow the Deepole there, or is it on the other side of the clearing?"
"Why, don't you know?" said Don. "This runs right up to the back of theFisher's berry patch, and through the sugar-bush to your own clearing.I'll go with you if you like."
"Oh, pshaw!" said Hughie, "I'll find it all right. Come on, Fido." ButFido had disappeared. "Good night, Don."
"Good night," said Don. "Mind you don't fire unless it's at a bear. I'lldo the same."
In a few minutes Hughie found himself alone in the thick underbrush ofthe swamp. The shadows were lying heavy, and the sunlight that stillcaught the tops of the tall trees was quite lost in the gloom of the lowunderbrush. Deep moss under foot, with fallen trees and thick-growingbalsam and cedars, made the walking difficult, and every step Hughiewished himself out in the clearing. He began to feel, too, theoppression of the falling darkness. He tried whistling to keep up hiscourage, but the sound seemed to fill the whole woods about him, and hesoon gave it up.
After a few minutes he stood still and called for Fido, but the dog hadgone on some hunt of his own, and with a sense of deeper loneliness,he set himself again to his struggle with the moss and brush and fallentrees. At length he reached firmer ground, and began with more cheerfulheart to climb up to the open.
Suddenly he heard a rustle, and saw the brush in front of him move.
"Oh, there you are, you brute," he cried, "come in here. Come in, Fido.Here, sir!"
He pushed the bushes aside, and his heart jumped and filled his mouth.A huge, black shape stood right across his path not ten paces away. Amoment they gazed at each other, and then, with a low growl, the bearbegan to sway awkwardly toward him. Hughie threw up his gun and fired.The bear paused, snapping viciously and tearing at his
wounded shoulder,and then rushed on Hughie without waiting to rise on his hind legs.
Like a flash Hughie dodged behind the brush, and then fled like the windtoward the open. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the bear shamblingafter him at a great pace, and gaining at every jump, and his heartfroze with terror. The balsams and spruces were all too low for safety.A little way before him he saw a small birch. If he could only make thathe might escape. Summoning all his strength he rushed for the tree,the bear closing fast upon him. Could he spring up out of reach of thebear's awful claws?
Two yards from the tree he heard an angry snap and snarl at his heels.With a cry, he dropped his gun, and springing for the lowest bough, drewup his legs quickly after him with the horrible feeling of havingthem ripped asunder. To his amazement he found that the bear was notscrambling up the tree after him, but was still some paces off, withFido skirmishing at long range. It was Fido's timely nip that hadbrought him to a sudden halt, and allowed Hughie to make his climb insafety.
"Good dog, Fido. Sic him! Sic him, old fellow!" cried out Hughie, butFido was new to this kind of warfare, and at every jump of the ragingbrute he fled into the brush with his tail between his legs, returning,however, to the attack as the bear retired.
After driving Fido off, the bear rushed at the tree, and in a fury begantearing up its roots. Then, as if realizing the futility of this, heflung himself upon its trunk and began shaking it with great violencefrom side to side.
Hughie soon saw that the tree would not long stand such an attack. Heslipped down to the lowest bough so that his weight might be taken fromthe swaying top, and encouraging Fido, awaited results.
He found himself singularly cool. Having escaped immediate danger, thehunter's instinct awoke within him, and he longed to get that bear.If he only had his gun, he would soon settle him, but the bear,unfortunately, had possession of that. He began hurriedly to cut off asstout a branch as he could to make himself a club. He was not a momenttoo soon, for the bear, realizing that he could neither tear up the treeby the roots nor shake his enemy out of it, decided, apparently, to goup for him.
He first set himself to get rid of Fido, which he partially succeededin doing by chasing him a long distance off. Then, with a great rush, heflew at the tree, and with amazing rapidity began to climb.
Hughie, surprised by this swift attack, hastened to climb to the higherbranches, but in a moment he saw that this would be fatal. Rememberingthat the bear is like the dog in his sensitive parts, he descended tomeet his advancing foe, and reaching down, hit him a sharp blow onthe snout. With a roar of rage and surprise the bear let go hishold, slipped to the ground, and began to tear up the earth, sneezingviolently.
"Oh, if I only had that gun," groaned Hughie, "I'd get him. And if hegets away after Fido again, I believe I'll try it."
The bear now set himself to plan some new form of attack. He had beenwounded, but only enough to enrage him, and his fury served to fix morefirmly in his head the single purpose of getting into his grip thisenemy of his in the tree, whom he appeared to have so nearly at hismercy.
Whatever his new plan might be, a necessary preliminary was getting ridof Fido, and this he proceeded to do. Round about the trees he pursuedhim, getting farther and farther away from the birch, till Hughie,watching his chance, slipped down the tree and ran for his gun. But nosooner had he stooped for it than the bear saw the move, and with anangry roar rushed for him.
Once more Hughie sprang for his branch, but the gun caught in the boughsand he slipped to the ground, the bear within striking distance. With acry he sprang again, reached his bough and drew himself up, holding hisprecious gun safe, wondering how he had escaped. Again it was Fido thathad saved him, for as the bear had gathered himself to spring, Fido,seeing his chance, rushed boldly in, and flinging himself upon the hindleg of the enraged brute, held fast. It was the boy's salvation, butalas! it was Fido's destruction, for wheeling suddenly, the bear strucka swift downward blow with his powerful front paw, and tore the wholeside of the faithful brute wide open. With a howl, poor Fido draggedhimself away out of reach and lay down, moaning pitifully.
The bear, realizing that he had got rid of one foe, now proceeded morecautiously to deal with the other, and began warily climbing the tree,keeping his wicked little eyes fixed upon Hughie.
Meantime, Hughie was loading his gun with all speed. He emptied hispowder-horn into the muzzle, and with the bear coming slowly nearer,began to search for his bullets. Through one pocket after another histrembling fingers flew, while with the butt of his gun he menaced hisapproaching enemy.
"Where are those bullets?" he groaned. "Ah, here they are!" diving intohis trousers pocket. "Fool of a place to keep them, too!"
He took a handful of slugs and bullets, poured them into his gun, rammeddown a wadding of leaves upon all, retreating as he did so to the higherlimbs, the bear following him steadily. But just as he had his capsecurely fixed upon the nipple, the bear suddenly revealed his plan.Holding by his front paws, he threw his hind legs off from the trunk. Itwas his usual method of felling trees. The tree swayed and bent till thetop almost touched the ground. But Hughie, with his legs wreathed roundthe trunk, brought his gun to his shoulder, and with its muzzle almosttouching the breast of the hanging brute, pulled the trigger.
There was a terrific report, the bear dropped in a heap from the tree,and Hughie was hurled violently to the ground some distance away,partially stunned. He raised himself to see the bear struggle up to asitting position, and gnashing his teeth, and flinging blood and foamfrom his mouth, begin to drag himself toward him. He was conscious ofa languid indifference, and found himself wondering how long the bearwould take to cover the distance.
But while he was thus cogitating there was a sharp, quick bark, and agreat black form hurled itself at the bear's throat and bore the fiercebrute to the ground.
Drawing a long sigh, Hughie sank back to the ground, with the sound of afar-away shot in his ears, and darkness veiling his eyes.
He was awakened by Don's voice anxiously calling him.
"Are you hurt much, Hughie? Did he squeeze you?"
Hughie sat up, blinking stupidly.
"What?" he asked. "Who?"
"Why, the bear, of course."
"The bear? No. Man! It's too bad you weren't here, Don," he went on,rousing himself. "He can't be gone far."
"Not very," said Don, laughing loud. "Yonder he lies."
Hughie turned his head and gazed, wondering, at the great black massover which Don's black dogs were standing guard, and sniffing withsupreme satisfaction.
Then all came back to him.
"Where's Fido?" he asked, rising. "Yes, it was Fido saved me, for sure.He tackled the bear every time he rushed at me, and hung onto him justas I climbed the tree the second time."
As he spoke he walked over to the place where he had last seen thedog. A little farther on, behind a spruce-tree, they found poor Fido,horribly mangled and dead.
Hughie stooped down over him. "Poor old boy, poor old Fido," he said, ina low voice, stroking his head.
Don turned away and walked whistling toward the bear. As he sat besidethe black carcass his two dogs came to him. He threw his arms roundthem, saying, "Poor old Blackie! Poor Nigger!" and he understood howHughie was feeling behind the spruce-tree beside the faithful dog thathad given him his life.
As he sat there waiting for Hughie, he heard voices.
"Horo!" he shouted.
"Where are you? Is that you, Don?" It was his father's voice.
"Yes, here we are."
"Is Hughie there?" inquired another voice.
"Losh me! that's the minister," said Don. "Yes, all right," he criedaloud, as up came Long John Cameron and the minister, with Fusie and astranger bringing up the rear.
"Fine work, this. You're fine fellows, indeed," cried Long John,"frightening people in this way."
"Where is Hughie?" said the minister, sternly.
Hughie came from behind the brush, hurriedly wiping
his eyes. "Here,father," he said.
"And what are you doing here at this hour of the night, pray?" said theminister, angrily, turning toward him.
"I couldn't get home very well," replied Hughie.
"And why not, pray? Don't begin any excuses with me, sir." Nothingannoyed the minister as an attempt to excuse ill-doing.
"I guess he would have been glad enough to have got home half an hourago, sir," broke in Don, laughing. "Look there." He pointed to the bearlying dead, with Nigger standing over him.
"The Lord save us!" said Long John Cameron, himself the greatest amongthe hunters of the county. "What do you say? And how did you get him?Jee-ru-piter! he's a grand one."
The old man, the minister, and Don walked about the bear in admiringprocession.
"Yon's a terrible gash," said Long John, pointing to a gaping wound inthe breast. "Was that your Snider, Don?"
"Not a bit of it, father. The bear's Hughie's. He killed him himself."
"Losh me! And you don't tell me! And how did you manage that, Hughie?"
"He chased me up that tree, and I guess would have got me only forFido."
The minister gasped.
"Got you? Was he as near as that?"
"He wasn't three feet away," said Hughie, and with that he proceeded togive, in his most graphic style, a description of his great fight withthe bear.
"When I heard the first shot," said Don, "I was away across the swamp.I tell you I tore back here, and when I came, what did I see but Hughieand Mr. Bear both sitting down and looking coolly at each other a fewyards apart. And then Nigger downed him and I put a bullet into hisheart." Don was greatly delighted, and extremely proud of Hughie'sachievement.
"And how did you know about it?" asked Don of his father.
"It was the minister here came after me."
"Yes," said the minister, "it was Fusie told me you had gone off on abear hunt, and so I went along to the Cameron's with Mr. Craven here, tosee if you had got home."
Meantime, Mr. Craven had been looking Hughie over.
"Mighty plucky thing," he said. "Great nerve," and he lapsed intosilence, while Fusie could not contain himself, but danced from one footto the other with excited exclamations.
The minister had come out intending, as he said, "to teach that boy alesson that he would remember," but as he listened to Hughie's story,his anger gave place to a great thankfulness.
"It was a great mercy, my boy," he said at length, when he was quitesure of his voice, "that you had Fido with you."
"Yes, indeed, father," said Hughie. "It was Fido saved me."
"It was the Lord's goodness," said the minister, solemnly.
"And a great mercy," said Long John, "that your lad kept his head andshowed such courage. You have reason to be proud of him."
The minister said nothing just then, but at home, when recounting theexploit to the mother, he could hardly contain his pride in his son.
"Never thought the boy would have a nerve like that, he's so excitable.I had rather he killed that bear than win a medal at the university."
The mother sat silent through all the story, her cheek growing more andmore pale, but not a word did she say until the tale was done, and thenshe said, "'Who delivereth thee from destruction.'"
"A little like David, mother, wasn't it?" said Hughie; but though therewas a smile on his face, his manner and tone were earnest enough.
"Yes," said his mother, "a good deal like David, for it was the same Godthat delivered you both."
"Rather hard to cut Fido out of his share of the glory," said Mr.Craven, "not to speak of a cool head and a steady nerve."
Mrs. Murray regarded him for a moment or two in silence, as ifmeditating an answer, but finally she only said, "We shall cut no oneout of the glory due to him."
At the supper-table the whole affair was discussed in all its bearings.In this discussion Hughie took little part, making light of his exploit,and giving most of the credit to Fido, and the mother wondered at theunusual reserve and gravity that had fallen upon her boy. Indeed, Hughiewas wondering at himself. He had a strange new feeling in his heart.He had done a man's deed, and for the first time in his life he felt itunnecessary to glory in his deeds. He had come to a new experience, thatgreat deeds need no voice to proclaim them. During the thrilling momentsof that terrible hour he had entered the borderland of manhood, and theawe of that new world was now upon his spirit.
It was chiefly this new experience of his that was sobering him, but ithelped him not a little to check his wonted boyish exuberance thatat the table opposite him sat a strange young man, across whose dark,magnetic face there flitted, now and then, a lazy, cynical smile.Hughie feared that lazy smile, and he felt that it would shrivel intoself-contempt any feeling of boastfulness.
The mother and Hughie said little to each other, waiting to be alone,and after Hughie had gone to his room his mother talked long with him,but when Mr. Craven, on his way to bed, heard the low, quiet tones ofthe mother's voice through the shut door, he knew it was not to Hughieshe was speaking, and the smile upon his face lost a little of itscynicism.
Next day there was no smile when he stood with Hughie under thebirch-tree, watching the lad hew flat one side, but gravely enough hetook the paper on which Hughie had written, "Fido, Sept. 13th, 18--,"saying as he did so, "I shall cut this for you. It is good to rememberbrave deeds."