Part 17

He regarded it as a very easy matter. He had vast numbers of horsemen and footmen, all splendidly armed and well trained in warfare; his opponents were a few peasants, who clung to their native hills, and loved freedom, and were ready to die for it. The Austrians looked upon the affair as a mere hunting excursion. They provided themselves with cartloads of ropes to lead back prisoners and the herds of cattle they expected to seize.

When the men of the forest heard that their enemies were marching upon them, they gathered to defend their rights as freemen. They mustered thirteen hundred fighting men, armed with the rudest of weapons, many having nothing in their hands save heavy clubs, spiked with iron. But before night fell those spiked clubs had been dipped in the best blood of Austria.

Twenty-four thousand of the Duke's finest troops, led by his brother Leopold, advanced against these shepherds and herdsmen, and the two armies met on the slopes of Morgarten. At this point a narrow pass ascends the hill-side; upon one side of the pass lies the mountain, upon the other the deep waters of the lake. At the head of the pass stood the small band of Swiss, calmly surveying the splendid host of steel-clad knights and men-at-arms which rode against them. The Austrians pushed up the slope confident of victory.

But as the latter rode up the pass an avalanche was loosed upon them--not an avalanche of snow, but one prepared by the Swiss themselves. Great stones, rocks, and trunks of trees had been poised on the edge of the heights above the pass. When the Austrians were seen below, these were thrust over the brink of the descent, and came rolling, leaping, thundering down the mountainside, and crashing in among the horsemen. Many were struck down, and the horses became so terrified that the whole body of the assailants was thrown into utter confusion.

Here was the opportunity of the Swiss, and they did not let it slip. Down the pass they swept upon the bewildered foe, and assailed them furiously with their swords, their halberds (a heavy shaft of wood fitted with axe and spear-point), and with their great iron-spiked clubs.

The Austrians tried to turn back and escape, but in vain. They were caught in the narrow pass as in a net. Many sprang from their horses and tried to get away on foot; but they slipped on the rocks, and the nimble mountaineers, whose nailed shoes gave them good foothold on their native slopes, and who were used to climbing over perilous heights, caught and destroyed them easily.

It was hardly a battle: it was a mere slaughter. Great numbers of the Austrians were slain on the spot; many were driven into the lake and drowned; the rest fled. Among the latter was Duke Leopold, who himself narrowly escaped with his life. One who saw him on his flight from this fatal field said that he looked "like death, and quite distracted". Well might he look distracted. He had left behind him a battleground drenched with the best blood of Austria; while of the brave Swiss only fourteen men had fallen.

The latter could scarce believe at first that they had won so mighty a victory; but when they saw the Austrians flying for their lives, and knew that the day was indeed their own, they fell on their knees upon this forever famous field of Morgarten, and thanked God for deliverance from the power of Austria; and to this day a service of thanksgiving is held every year on the anniversary of that great fight. Year by year, on the 15th of November, Swiss men and women visit that sacred spot where the liberty of their land was won in one of the decisive battles of the world, for after Morgarten the Forest Cantons never lost their freedom again.

--_From "A Peep at Switzerland", by John Finnemore._

FINDING OPPOSITES

This is another drill that asks you to make a careful choice of words. _Do not_ write your name at the top of the paper this time, but beginning on the first line, write the figures 1 to 12 in the margin.

Below are ten sets of words. In each set, the first word is followed by four other words. Among these four words there is one that is exactly opposite in meaning to the first word in the group. Look at the first group. SUMMER is the first word. Of the four words that follow it which one is the opposite in meaning to SUMMER? WINTER, of course. Write this pair of opposites after figure 1 on your paper as follows:

1. SUMMER WINTER

After figure 2 write the second pair of opposites:

2. TIGHT LOOSE

Complete the drill by selecting the opposites from each remaining group, and writing them after the proper figure on your paper. When finished, sign your name in the lower right-hand corner of your paper and wait quietly for the others.

1. SUMMER (snow, winter, skating, January). 2. TIGHT (small, larger, loose, bind). 3. LONG (straight, heavy, short, reach). 4. LEFT (before, right, corner, wrong). 5. STORM (calm, rain, sun, wind). 6. ROUND (box, cake, seat, square). 7. BEAUTIFUL (picture, flower, girl, ugly). 8. COLD (winter, ice, warm, weather). 9. HELP (mother, book, lift, hinder). 10. ROUGH (place, smooth, cotton, paper). 11. SWEET (candy, sour, smile, lemon). 12. POLITE (courtesy, manners, rude, clumsy).

WHAT MEKOLKA KNOWS

Here is a story of Mekolka, a little boy whose home is in the far northern part of Russia. Mekolka is a Samoyad; that is, a dweller on the northern coast of Russia or Siberia. The Tundra is a wide, almost level plain without any trees.

As you read, make a list of the things Mekolka can do with his hands.

What do you think a _disha_ must be? What is a _toor_?

Mekolka does not know how to read print, but he can read in the book of "all out-doors". What is the lesson he knows best?

Mekolka's clothes have queer Russian names. See if you can tell, from the way each is described, what is a _militza_, what is a _soveek_, and what are _pimmies_?

How does Mekolka keep track of the months and days?

If you were a little Samoyad boy, it is more than likely that you would not go to school, unless you were one of a family that went off in a procession of sleighs at the beginning of every winter to some small town on the Petchora, or even farther on to Mezen or Archangel on the White Sea. Then there would be some small school for you to go to while the days were dark, till the approach of spring brought with it a new packing up and long sleigh drive back to the haunts of seal and walrus. But it is just as likely that there would be no school and no lessons. Mekolka, for instance, though he has picked up a little learning--a very little--from the Russian traders, and from friends who have traveled over the Tundra, knows very few of the things you know.

But he can use his fingers with great skill, and if he cannot write much, he can make a beautiful pattern with one knife on the horn handle of another one. In fact, he is quite skilful in carving the reindeer horns. He is always on the lookout for a good piece of horn, and whenever he finds the shed antlers of a reindeer--for the deer cast off their antlers and grow new ones every spring--he picks them up and puts them to "season". There are regular piles of these antlers about. It is the custom for everyone to put the ones he finds on to one of these heaps, and to take the horn he wants to work from the more seasoned pieces at the bottom of the heap. Mekolka always chooses his piece with great care, cuts it down to the right shape, and as often as not decorates it with a metal pattern. For this he has to cut his design in a regular groove all over the horn. Having got his grooves deep and wide enough he puts some white-looking metal on the fire in a piece of wood scooped out like a cup. The metal soon melts, and Mekolka pours it into the groove and prevents it from running off by holding a piece of paper tight round the horn. The metal cools, and the edges are cut away. Then he polishes it with sand, after which he possesses a beautiful knife-handle.

Sometimes Mekolka goes in for ornaments without regard to use, and makes himself a ring. This time he makes the groove in a round piece of wood, which he has pared down to the right size, and runs in the same metal as before, with the piece of paper held tight, to support the metal on the under side. Then he cuts away the wood, and brings out knife and sand for the finishing; at the end he puts it on his finger with a look of proud content. Some of the patterns he makes on the knife-handles are really very beautiful, so that the Russian traders are glad to take them away in return for snuff and tobacco.

Mekolka can make a sleigh and mend it when required, throw the _disha_ when he wants to catch a reindeer, and bring it round its horn at the first throw. He can harness a team of five correctly, and drive them like the wind. At the gullies he is splendid; he puts the deer to a gallop when he sees the ravine ahead; then over they go, sleigh and all, Mekolka sitting there, proud and unmoved. Sometimes the ravine cannot be treated this way. Then Mekolka brings the team up to the edge and holds his _toor_--the long driving pole--across them to make them stand evenly. Then he dexterously removes the pole and shouts to the deer; at once they leap together across the cleft and climb up the steep snow wall on the other side by the grip of their outspread hoofs. They are not long at the top with the sleigh before Mekolka has slithered down and scrambled up the walls of the ravine, where they are less steep and where the ravine is not quite so narrow. He is quickly on to his sleigh again while the deer race forwards.

It is cold work racing through the chill air, which is frequently thick with an icy mist; but Mekolka is clad from head to foot in fur. His _militza_ of reindeer-skin with fur inside often has a hood and mittens attached to it and covers him like a smock from head to knees. On his feet he wears _pimmies_, which reach up to the _militza_, and are generally made of sealskin with the fur cut into strips to form an attractive pattern. Over the _militza_ he sometimes puts a _soveek_, the Samoyad overcoat. Here the fur is worn outside, and the garment is big and roomy.

After a long journey the reindeer must be unharnessed for feeding. They find their own food, of course, and Mekolka seizes the chance to go to sleep. He always goes to sleep in the same queer way; he sits down on the ground, pulls his arms out of the sleeves, and then lies flat on his back. The empty sleeves stretch out stiffly by his side, and look, of course, as though the arms are in them, though the hands have found a warmer spot inside on his chest.

The air on the Tundra, and, indeed, in all the Arctic region has a curious way of deceiving the traveler. It makes things look like something else. Take a day when the sunshine lights up the scene and the grey, lichen-covered mounds take wonderful colors in the distance from the blue sky and the haze. Though lakes of water appear to grow and fill the far-off hollows, Mekolka knows they are not lakes, but little snowdrifts. It is the mirage that plays these little tricks. So when he sees mighty ships sailing over the sea, he knows it is nothing more than blocks of ice, while what looks like a great headland on the coast is nothing but a little mound thirty or forty feet high. And if, when alone, he sees half a dozen other Samoyads come to the river-bank within a couple of hundred yards and then stop while one sits on a stone, he doesn't call out or walk toward them; he knows quite well that in a minute or two they will form themselves into a group of bernacle geese, or a family of snow buntings; in fact, he is quite prepared to hear one suddenly burst into song (for the snow bunting is the gayest warbler of the Arctic), and to find a cleft in the peat where there will be a nest, lined with dead grasses and the white feathers of the willow-grouse, and holding half a dozen eggs.

He knows every bird that flies overhead, and can name them, too, though his names are very different from ours. He knows that the snow bunting arrives about the middle of April, and he begins to watch for its appearance as soon as the days are getting long. He has no calendar of months and days to look at, but he makes notches on a stick--one for each day, with an extra cut at the seventh--and he is just as quick in glancing at his stick and telling you the date as an American boy would be with his printed calendar. He will watch for the purple sandpiper in May, and find its eggs in June, though they are very hard to find for anyone with eyes less trained than Mekolka's. The nest is always built in some hollow among the Arctic willow or lichen, and the eggs are difficult enough to see, as is the bird itself when sitting on them--they all look so exactly like the ground. And the bird will let you come ever so close to her--in fact, almost tread on her--before she will leave her cherished eggs.

Mekolka can tell you about the behavior of the little stint when he came upon her nest one day. It had four precious eggs in it. When the old bird found she was really discovered, she jigged about like an acrobat, squeaked like a mouse, and did everything she could to take off Mekolka's attention from the nest. As that did not work, the little bird twittered and pretended to be lame, running about as though asking to be caught; but all she wanted was that no one should notice that deep hole in the ground half full of dried birch-leaves where her four cherished eggs were laid. The little stint had been into a creek in Scotland early in June, and wanted to get back there with four chicks before the end of July. She did not want to lose those eggs and go back all that long journey without any little ones. Not that she is very kind to them after they begin to grow, for on the very earliest opportunity she kicks them out of the nest to teach them self-reliance!

--_From "Finn and Samoyad"._

Imagine that you have been for a long visit to Mekolka. Your teacher will call on some one to come to the front of the class to tell about each of the following experiences:

1. Helping Mekolka make a horn knife-handle.

2. A ride with Mekolka.

3. Being fooled by a mirage.

4. Some birds I saw with Mekolka.

THE BEAR'S NIGHT

You should all begin reading at the same moment. When you have finished, close your book and raise your hand. Your teacher will divide the class into three equal groups according to speed. She will ask you to write answers to the questions given at the end of the story and will appoint a committee of one pupil from each group to look the answers over and report which of the three groups has given the best answers.

Have you seen the brown bears at the Zoo? Do you remember how restlessly they walk up and down, or stand on their hind legs and wave their noses in the air? You will not wonder at it, when you read how independent a bear is at home, and how cozily he spends the long, dark winter.

It would seem that within or near the Arctic Circle Nature gives a big yawn at the end of her energetic summer, and settles down to her long winter sleep. Certainly some of her children prepare for sleep with plenty of care, especially Bruin, the big brown bear of Finland.

Even in the summer he goes sniffing round in the strong marshlands of the north or in the forests to the east. "That will make a good couch for me," he thinks, as he spies a cosy nook among some big boulders. He makes a note of the place, and goes on to look at other possible sites. He decides nothing then, but waits till the snow comes. Then the house-hunting must be undertaken seriously, and he tramps through the soft white carpet, leaving a well-marked "spoor" to tell the tale of his journeys. He is very fat after his summer feast of berries and roots, and his heavy body ploughs a deep furrow along the snow.

When once he has fixed on his boulders or tree trunks, he becomes very suspicious, and spends several days walking round and round his lodgings, on the watch for an enemy. He wants to be quite sure that no one can see him go to rest, and by going all round in a ring he catches the wind whichever way it may be blowing. If he scents danger he is off, and so fleet of foot is he that no hunter can catch him. In short, Master Bruin is so much on the alert that it takes a very wary hunter to catch him before he goes to rest.

Bruin is a good weather-prophet, and can sniff the signs of a coming snow-storm better than most; so when at last he has chosen his couch he arranges to nestle down in it just as a heavy fall of snow is coming which will, he knows, cover up both his trail and himself, and so conceal all his traces from the curious. Sometimes he is a little out in his calculations, for his furrows are so deep that nothing short of a gale, with its heavy drifts of snow, will quite obliterate them.

The hunter Finn, however, has been watching, and has marked Bruin in his quest. He finds the "spoor" before it is lost, and travels along it till it enters some wood or hiding place. Then on his skis, or snowshoes, he starts across it and describes a big circle. If he cuts the spoor again farther on, he knows that Bruin has not yet halted, so another circle must be described. But if the ski-er comes back to the first line of spoor without having crossed it again, then "honey paws" must be within his circuit.

The hunter keeps his secret to himself and tells no one, because he will get the money for the skin, and also a reward from the Government for killing the animal.

There is no hurry, for the bear, when once settled in his snug quarters, will doze away quite comfortably through the winter. His ears and nose, however, seem to keep awake, even though his eyes are shut, and a scent of danger will cause him to move quickly and silently away to a new couch.

As spring approaches, the Finn tells a few of his chosen friends about the matter, and together they go off to hunt "Flatnose", as they often call him, before he wakes up, thin and hungry, after his six months' fast. Warily they search, till they see a mass of snow covering a heap of rocks or a pile of fallen pine-trees. Then they whisper:

"The bear is sleeping under that heap of snow." They fire a few guns, the dogs bark, the men shout; altogether the bear receives a very effective morning call. He is very easily awakened, but he is in no haste to show himself, and waits while he thinks over matters, and prepares for a strategic and rapid retreat, for he has met danger before, and found his fleetness his greatest defence. In the meantime the hunters have fired a few shots into his retreat in the hope of stinging him into action, but they probably hit only his protective stones. Then they gather twigs and branches together and light a bonfire at his very door, or what they guess to be his door, trusting that the wind will carry the smoke to his nostrils. Some of their efforts succeed in their object; there is an upheaving of the snow; Flatnose pushes out his head. Then follow the shoulders and front paws, and soon the huge brown body rises as he sits upright on his haunches. He gives a terrific growl, which shows he is not to be trifled with; and, indeed, this is his most dangerous time, for he is very hungry after his long foodless sleep, and ready to attack anything--cow, reindeer, or man.

The dogs are much too frightened to go near him. They bark at a distance. One man fires a shot and hits. The bear shows his teeth and hisses as he makes a rush forwards. Another shot makes him look round, and the dogs grow bolder. A shot in the muzzle makes him quite furious, and he springs at one of the dogs. He catches one dog by the back and flings it howling over the snow. Then he springs at the other, and tears his ear or paw. Wild with fury, he rushes toward his attackers, but between them he is soon laid low, and carried off in a sleigh. His skin alone will be worth many dollars, and the flesh more, so that with the Government grant, the men will have a comfortable little sum each as a result of their hunting.

It is not without danger, this bear-hunt, neither is it certain of success; for if the bear once dodges the early shots, he will manage to get through the trees and disappear in a way that is almost uncanny. So when a man has once been on a bear-hunt and brought his prey safely home, he becomes a hero in his village.

--_From "Finn and Samoyad"._

Draw a diagram, showing:

1. A hollow tree.

2. A pile of rocks.

3. A fallen pine-tree.

4. The track made by the bear in seeking a winter bed.

5. The bear's stopping place.

6. The track made by the hunter in a circle.

You will have to indicate the two tracks by two different kinds of lines.

What is a _spoor_?

IS IT THE SAME BEAR?

In Longfellow's "Hiawatha," the poet describes a bear asleep, as follows:

"He had stolen the Belt of Wampum, From the Great Bear of the mountains, From the terror of the nations, As he lay asleep and cumbrous On the summit of the mountains, Like a rock with mosses on it, Spotted brown and gray with mosses."

THE CHINESE NEW YEAR'S DAY

At New Year time Hok-a, the Chinese boy, and Gold-needle, his sister, and their cousins always have plenty of fun. Their grandmother once told them a story of why there was always so much feasting then. She said:

"They tell us that the people of long ago had a saying that on the last day of the twelfth month a great flood would drown everyone. When the people of that time heard this, they were very sad, and thought, 'Now we are going to die, let us take the food we have and eat, and the clothes we have and dress up gaily'. So they took rice, and fried rice-cakes, and prepared strained rice and basins of vegetables, in order to take leave of their ancestors. (The 'ancestors' mean the spirits of their ancestors, who are supposed to live in wooden tablets kept on a table placed against the wall of the chief room.) When they had worshipped the ancestors, all the family sat together round the table to eat their rice and put a little stove underneath because it was winter, and they needed a fire to warm themselves. On that night they shut the door very close and put a prop against it. They did not dare to go to sleep, but watched anxiously for the flood to come.

"At daybreak they opened the door, and discovered that there was no flood. That was New Year's Day. They immediately ran out to visit their friends and relatives, and found that none of them had been drowned either; so they all congratulated one another, and drank tea and wine. From that time there have always been feasting and visiting and congratulations at New Year."

Hok-a and Gold-needle have been looking forward to the holiday for a long time. All the people in the house have been busy for days. The dust and dirt of the year has been swept from the house into the street. The men have been hurrying about collecting any money that was owing to them, for no bills must be left over till New Year. Mother and aunts have been sitting by the door to catch the light to darn, and mend, and make, for everyone must have something fine to wear on New Year's day. Such a cooking goes on the day before! and such a frying of rice flour cakes you never saw. Pigs and ducks and chickens and even poor little fish have a bad time of it just then.

The great day arrives, and Hok-a and Gold-needle dress themselves in their new clothes. Hok-a has a blue coat, with a yellow silk waistcoat on the top of it, green silk anklets, and a green cap; while his little sister is gay in a pink coat and blue trousers trimmed with black, and wears some silver pins and cloth flowers in her shining black hair.