Part 14
It was food Long Jackson wanted--food and sleep. And on the following day he was himself again. At dinner, beside the long plank table built down the middle of the Camp, he and Brannigan devoured boiled beans and salt pork and stewed dried apples, gulped down tins of black tea, and jointly narrated their experience to the interested choppers and teamsters, while Mary, shut up in the stables, munched hay comfortably and wondered what had become of her partners. They were big-boned, big-hearted children, these men of the New Brunswick lumber camps, quick in quarrel, quick in sentiment, but cool and close-lipped in the face of emergency. The "boss" of the camp, however, was of a different type--a driving, hard-eyed Westerner, accustomed to the control of lumber gangs of mixed races, and his heart was as rough as his tongue. In a lull in the talk he said suddenly to the visitors--
"We're about sick o' salt pork in this camp, mates, an' the fresh beef ain't been sent out from the Settlement yit. Coin's been too heavy. That fat young moose critter o' yourn'll come in mighty handy jest now. What d'ye want fer her as she stands?"
Long Jackson set down his tin of tea with a bump and looked at the speaker curiously. But Brannigan thought it was a joke, and laughed.
"Cow-moose comes high in New Brunswick, Mr. Clancy," said he pleasantly, "as ye must a' been here long enough to know."
"Oh, that's all right," answered the boss; "but there ain't a game-warden within a hundred miles o' this camp, an' I'd risk it if there was. What'll ye take?"
Brannigan saw that the proposal was a serious one, and his face stiffened.
"Where Mary's concerned," said he, speaking with slow precision, "I guess me an' my pardner here's all the game-wardens that's required. It's close season all year round fer Mary, an' she ain't fer sale at any price."
There was a moment's silence, broken only by a shuffle of tin plates on the table. Then Long Jackson said--
"An' that's a fact, Mr. Clancy."
The boss made a noise of impatience between his teeth. He was not used to being opposed, but he could not instantly forget that these visitors were his guests.
"Well," said he, "there ain't no property right in a moose, anyhow!"
"_We_ think ther' be," replied Brannigan, "an' we know that there little moose-cow's our'n an' _not_ fer sale at no price, what-_so-ever_!"
The boss was beginning to get angry at this incomprehensible attitude of his guests.
"Ther' ain't _no_ property rights, I tell ye, in any wild critter o' these here woods. This critter's in my stables, an' I could jest _take_ her, seein' as my hands needs her, without no talk o' payin' fer the privilege. But you two boys has been burnt out an' in hard luck, so I'll give ye the price o' good beef for the critter. Ye kin take it or leave it. But I'm going to kinder requisition the critter."
As he spoke he rose from his seat, as if to go and carry out his purpose on the instant. There had been already growls of protest from the men of the camp, who understood, as he could not, the sentiment of their guests; but he gave no heed to it. His seat was furthest from the door. But before he had taken two strides, Long Jackson was at the door, and had snatched up a heavy steel-shod "peevy." Having not yet quite recovered, he was still a bit excitable for a woodsman.
"Damn you, Jim Clancy, none o' yer butcherin'!" he shouted. Clancy sprang forward with an oath, but right in his path rose Brannigan, quiet and cold.
"Ye better hold on, Mr. Clancy," said he, "an' think it over. It's that little moose-critter what's jest seen us through, an' I guess we'll see her through, too, Jackson an' me!"
His tone and manner were civility itself, but his big lean fist was clenched till the knuckles went white.
Clancy paused. He was entirely fearless, whether it were in a fight or a log-jam. But he was no fool, and his vocation forced him to think quickly. He realized suddenly that in the temper of his visitors was a resolution which would balk at nothing. It would do him no good to have killing in the camp, even if he were not himself the victim. All this he saw at one thought, in the fraction of a flash. He saw also that his men would be against him. He choked back his wrath and cast about for words to save his face. And here one of his choppers came tactfully to his aid.
"We ain't wantin' fresh meat so bad as all that, Mr. Clancy," he suggested, with a grin. "Guess we'd rather wait for the beef."
"Aye, aye!" chimed in several voices pacifically.
Clancy pulled himself together and spoke lightly. "I s'pose ye're right, lads, an' it was yer own feed I was thinking of. If ye're satisfied, I must be. An' I was wrong, o' course, to treat our visitors so rough, an' try force _any_ kind o' a bargain on them. I ax their pardon."
Taking the pardon for granted, he went back to his seat.
Brannigan, who had never lost grip of himself for a moment, sat down again with a good-natured grin. A murmur of satisfaction went round the table, and knives once more clattered on tin plates.
Long Jackson, by the door, hesitated and glared piercingly at the boss, who refrained from noticing.
At length he set down his weapon and came back to the table. In a minute or two his appetite returned, and he could resume his meal.
Out in the barn, in the smell of hay and horses, Mary lay tranquilly waving her ears, staring at her unfamiliar company, and chewing her comfortable cud, untroubled with any intuitions of the fate which had twice within the last few hours so narrowly passed her by.
Printed in the United States of America.
* * * * *
The following pages contain advertisements of Macmillan books by the same author
BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
The Backwoodsmen
Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, $1.50 net
"'The Backwoodsmen' shows that the writer knows the backwoods as the sailor knows the sea. Indeed, his various studies of wild life in general, whether cast in the world of short sketch or story or full-length narrative, have always secured an interested public.... Mr. Roberts possesses a keen artistic sense which is especially marked when he is rounding some story to its end. There is never a word too much, and he invariably stops when the stop should be made.... Few writers exhibit such entire sympathy with the nature of beasts and birds as he."--_Boston Herald._
"When placed by the side of the popular novel, the strength of these stories causes them to stand out like a huge primitive giant by the side of a simpering society miss, and while the grace and beauty of the girl may please the eye for a moment, it is to the rugged strength of the primitive man your eyes will turn to glory in his power and simplicity. In simple, forceful style Mr. Roberts takes the reader with him out into the cold, dark woods, through blizzards, stalking game, encountering all the dangers of the backwoodsmen's life, and enjoying the close contact with Nature in all her moods. His descriptions are so vivid that you can almost feel the tang of the frosty air, the biting sting of the snowy sleet beating on your face, you can hear the crunch of the snow beneath your feet, and when, after heartlessly exposing you to the elements, he lets you wander into camp with the characters of the story, you stretch out and bask in the warmth and cheer of the fire."--_Western Review._
Kings in Exile (The Macmillan Fiction Library)
Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo, 50c. net
"More wonderful animal tales such as only Mr. Roberts can relate. With accurate knowledge of the exiled beasts and a vivid imagination, the author writes stories that are even more than usually interesting. The antagonistic feelings that exist beneath the shaggy coats, and the methods of stealthy warfare of wild beasts, are all minutely described and the enemies illustrated."--_Book News Monthly._
"It is surprising how much of the wilderness his wistful eye discovers in a Central Park buffalo yard. For this gift of vision the book will be read, a vision with its reminder of the scent of dark forests of fir, the awful and majestic loneliness of sky-towering peaks, the roar of the breakers and salty smell of the sea, the whispering silences of the forests. We rise from its pages with the breath of the open spaces in our lungs."--_Boston Transcript._
PUBLISHED BY
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
Neighbors Unknown
Decorated cloth, Illustrated, 12mo, $1.50 net
"Mr. Roberts has a wonderful knowledge of wild animals, and we are thrilled by his vivid scenes."--_Boston Times._
"The stories are thrilling and hold one interested throughout."--_Indianapolis News._
"Mr. Roberts knows his animals intimately and writes about them with understanding and reality."--_The Continent._
"Whether viewed as stories, as natural history, or as literature, young and old should lose no time in making the acquaintance of 'Neighbors Unknown.'"--_N. Y. Times._
"Few stories about animals have as strong a power to interest and entertain or carry as deep a conviction of their truth and reasonableness as those by Charles G. D. Roberts, which comprise the volume 'Neighbors Unknown.'"--_Chicago Tribune._
"What observation, what power of description is displayed in Charles G. D. Roberts's latest volume of stories!"--_Bellman._
"The drawings of Paul Bransom add much to the interest of the volume and are full of action and meaning."--_Boston Globe._
PUBLISHED BY
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64-66 Fifth Avenue New York
BY CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
AUTHOR OF "KINGS IN EXILE," "THE BACKWOODSMEN," ETC.
Children of The Wild
_With illustrations, cloth, 12mo, $1.35_
As might be inferred from the title of Charles G. D. Roberts' new book, "Children of the Wild," the reader is brought very close to nature. Mr. Roberts has written many stories about the wild, all of which have the atmosphere which few writers are able to breathe into their books--the atmosphere of outdoor life told with the sure touch of a recognized authority. Here he writes for boys particularly, still of the creatures of the forests and streams, but with a boy as the central human figure. Babe and his Uncle Andy and Bill, the guide, are camping in the wilderness. What they see and hear there suggest stories about young animals, the "children of the wild." These tales are recounted by Uncle Andy. In them Mr. Roberts shows that he knows his fellowmen fully as well as he knows the lore of the woods and the haunts and habits of the animals of the forest. Into his stories creep snatches of humor, glimpses of tragedy, and the poignant touch of pathos, all of which make his work natural. The present work should prove a most acceptable remembrance to every boy who cares, and what boy does not, for a hearty book of outdoor life.
The Feet of the Furtive
_Decorated cloth, 12mo, $1.35_
Illustrated by Paul Bransom
It is to be doubted whether there is a more popular animal writer to-day than Charles G. D. Roberts, whose stories of forests and streams are read with pleasure by young and old alike. In his present book are tales of the bear, the bat, the seal, the moose, rabbit and other animals written in his usual vivid style.
"A great book for boys of all ages, and one that could have been written only by Charles G. D. Roberts."--_Boston Times._
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York