"Oh, well, if a chap can't do a thing he can't; and he'd better give up and say, 'Beat.'"
"But I won't give up, and I never say 'Beat.' I'm not going to be laughed out of it, and I'll do what I said I would, if it takes all summer, Chris Warner."
"You'll have to be pretty spry, then, for there's only two more days to August," replied the whittler, shutting one eye to look along his arrow and see if it was true.
"I intend to be spry, and if you won't go and blab,[210] I'll tell you a plan I made last night."
"Guess you can trust me. I've heard about a dozen plans now, and never told one of 'em."
"They all failed, so there was nothing to tell. But this one is not going to fail, if I die for it. I feel that it's best to tell some one, because it is really dangerous; and if anything should happen to me, as is very likely, it would save time and trouble."
"Don't seem to feel anxious a mite6. But I'll stand ready to pick up the pieces, if you come to grief."
"Now, Chris, it's mean of you to keep on making fun when I'm in dead earnest; and this may be the last thing you can do for me."
"Wait till I get out my handkerchief; if you're going to be affectin' I may want it. Granite7's cheap up here; just mention what you'd like on your tombstone and I'll see that it's done, if it takes my last cent."
The big boy in the blue overalls8 spoke9 with such a comical drawl that the slender city lad could not help laughing, and with a slap that nearly sent his neighbor off his perch10, Corny said good-naturedly:
"Come now, stop joking and lend a hand, and I'll do anything I can for you. I've set my heart on shooting a wildcat, and I know I can if I once get a good chance. Mother won't let me go off far enough, so of course I don't do it, and then you all jeer11 at me. To-morrow we are going up the mountain, and I'm set on trying again, for Abner says the big woods are the place to find the 'varmint'. Now you hold your[211] tongue, and let me slip away when I think we've hit the right spot. I'm not a bit afraid, and while the rest go poking12 to the top, I'll plunge13 into the woods and see what I can do."
"All right. Better take old Buff; he'll bring you home when you get lost, and keep puss from clawing you. You won't like that part of the fun as much as you expect to, maybe," said Chris, with a sly twinkle of the eye, as he glanced at Corny and then away to the vast forest that stretched far up the mighty14 mountain's side.
"No, I don't want any help, and Buff will betray me by barking; I prefer to go alone. I shall take some lunch and plenty of shot, and have a glorious time, even if I don't meet that confounded beast. I will keep dashing in and out of the woods as we go; then no one will miss me for a while, and when they do you just say, 'Oh, he's all right; he'll be along directly,' and go ahead, and let me alone."
Corny spoke so confidently, and looked so pleased with his plan, that honest Chris could not bear to tell him how much danger he would run in that pathless forest, where older hunters than he had been lost.
"Don't feel as if I cared to tell any lies about it, and I don't advise your goin'; but if you're mad for catamounts, I s'pose I must humor you and say nothing. Only bear in mind, Abner and I will be along, and if you get into a scrape jest give a yell and we'll come."
"No fear of that; I've tramped round all summer,[212] and know my way like an Indian. Keep the girls quiet, and let me have a good lark15. I'll turn up all right by sundown; so don't worry. Not a word to mother, mind, or she won't let me go. I'll make things straight with her after the fun is over."
"That ain't just square; but it's not my funeral, so I won't meddle16. Hope you'll have first rate sport, and bag a brace17 of cats. One thing you mind, don't get too nigh before you fire; and keep out of sight of the critters as much as you can."
Chris spoke in a deep whisper, looking so excited and impressed by the reckless courage of his mate that Corny felt himself a Leatherstocking, and went off to tea with his finger on his lips, full of boyish faith in his own powers. If he had seen Chris dart18 behind the barn, and there roll upon the grass in convulsions of laughter, he would have been both surprised and hurt.
No deacon could have been more sober, however, than Chris when they met next morning, while the party of summer boarders at the old farm-house were in a pleasant bustle20 of preparation for the long expected day on the mountain. Three merry girls, a pair of small boys, two amiable21 mammas, Chris and Corny, made up the party, with Abner to drive the big wagon22 drawn23 by Milk and Molasses, the yellow span.
"All aboard!" shouted our young Nimrod, in a hurry to be off, as the lunch-basket was handed up, and the small boys packed in the most uncomfortable corners, regardless of their arms and legs.
Away they rattled24 with a parting cheer, and peace[213] fell upon the farm-house for a few hours, to the great contentment of the good people left behind. Corny's mother was one of them, and her last words were,—"A pleasant day, dear. I wish you'd leave that gun at home; I'm so afraid you'll get hurt with it.'
"No fun without it. Don't worry, mammy; I'm old enough to take care of myself."
"I'll see to him, ma'am," called Chris, as he hung on behind, and waved his old straw hat, with a steady, reliable sort of look, that made the anxious lady feel more comfortable.
"We are going to walk up, and leave the horses to rest; so I can choose my time. See, I've got a bottle of cold tea in this pocket, and a lot of grub in the other. No danger of my starving, is there?" whispered Corny, as he leaned over to Chris, who sat, apparently25, on nothing, with his long legs dangling26 into space.
"Shouldn't wonder if you needed every mite of it. Hunting is mighty hard work on a hot day, and this is going to be a blazer," answered Chris, pulling his big straw hat lower over his eyes.
As we intend to follow Corny's adventures, we need not pause to describe the drive, which was a merry one; with girls chattering27, mammas holding on to excited small boys, in danger of flying out at every jolt28, Abner joking till every one roared, Corny's dangerous evolutions with the beloved gun, and the gymnastic feats29 Chris performed, jumping off to pick flowers for the ladies, and getting on again while Milk and[214] Molasses tore up and down the rough road as if they enjoyed it.
About ten o'clock they reached the foot of the mountain; and after a short rest at the hotel, began the three-mile ascent30 in high spirits. Abner was to follow later with the wagon, to bring the party down; so Chris was guide, as he knew the way well, and often came with people. The girls and younger boys hurried on, full of eagerness to reach the top. The ladies went more slowly, enjoying the grand beauty of the scene, while Chris carried the lunch-basket, and Corny lingered in the rear, waiting for a good chance to "plunge."
He wanted to be off before Abner came, as he well knew that wise man and mighty hunter would never let him go alone.
"The very next path I see, I'll dive in and run; Chris can't leave the rest to follow, and if I once get a good start, they won't catch me in a hurry," thought the boy, longing32 to be free and alone in the wild woods that tempted33 him on either hand.
Just as he was tightening34 his belt to be ready for the run, Mrs. Barker, the stout35 lady, called him; and being a well-bred lad, he hastened at once to see what she wanted, feeling that he was the only gentleman in the party.
"Give me your arm, dear; I'm getting very tired, and fear I can't hold out to the top, without a little help," said the poor lady, red and panting with the heat, and steepness of the road.
"Certainly ma'am," answered Corny, obeying at[215] once, and inwardly resolving to deposit his fair burden on the first fallen log they came to, and make his escape.
But Mrs. Barker got on bravely, with the support of his strong arm, and chatted away so delightfully36 that Corny would really have enjoyed the walk, if his soul had not been yearning37 for catamounts. He did his best, but when they passed opening after opening into the green recesses38 of the wood, and the granite boulders39 grew more and more plentiful40, his patience gave out, and he began to plan what he could say to excuse himself. Chris was behind, apparently deaf and blind to his calls and imploring41 glances, though he grinned cheerfully when poor Corny looked round and beckoned42, as well as he could, with a gun on one arm and a stout lady on the other.
"The hardest part is coming now, and we'd better rest a moment. Here's a nice rock, and the last spring we are likely to see till we get to the top. Come on, Chris, and give us the dipper. Mrs. Barker wants a drink, and so do I," called the young hunter, driven to despair at last.
Up came Chris, and while he rummaged43 in the well-packed basket, Corny slipped into the wood, leaving the good lady with her thanks half spoken, sitting on a warm stone beside a muddy little pool. A loud laugh followed him, as he scrambled44 through the tall ferns and went plunging45 down the steep mountain side, eager to reach the lower woods.
"Let him laugh; it will be my turn when I go home, with a fine cat over my shoulder," thought Corny,[216] tearing along, heedless of falls, scratches, and bruised46 knees.
At length he paused for breath, and looked about him well satisfied, for the spot was lonely and lovely enough to suit any hunter. The tallest pines he ever saw sighed far overhead; the ground was ankle deep in moss47, and gay with scarlet48 bunch-berries; every fallen log was veiled by sweet-scented Linnea, green vines or nodding brakes; while hidden brooks50 sang musically, and the air was full of the soft flutter of leaves, the whir of wings, the sound of birds gossiping sweetly in the safe shelter of the forest, where human feet so seldom came.
"I'll rest a bit, and then go along down, keeping a look out for puss by the way," thought Corny, feeling safe and free, and very happy, for he had his own way, at last, and a whole day to lead the life he loved.
So he bathed his hot face, took a cool drink, and lay on the moss, staring up into the green gloom of the pines, blissfully dreaming of the joys of a hunter's life,—till a peculiar51 cry startled him to his feet, and sent him creeping warily52 toward the sound. Whether it was a new kind of bird, or a fox, or a bear, he did not know, but fondly hoped it was a wildcat; though he was well aware that the latter creature sleeps by day, and prowls by night. Abner said they purred and snarled53 and gave a mewing sort of cry; but which it was now he could not tell, having unfortunately been half asleep.
On he went, looking up into the trees for a furry55 bunch, behind every log, and in every rocky hole,[217] longing and hoping to discover his heart's desire. But a hawk56 was all he saw above, an ugly snake was the only living thing he found among the logs, and a fat woodchuck's hind19 legs vanished down the most attractive hole. He shot at all three and missed them, so pushed on, pretending that he did not care for such small game.
"Now this is what I call fun," he said to himself, tramping gayly along, and at that moment went splash into a mud-hole concealed57 under the grass. He sunk up to his knees, and with great difficulty got out by clinging to the tussocks that grew near. In his struggles the lunch was lost, for the bottle broke and the pocket where the sandwiches were stored was full of mud. A woful spectacle was the trim lad as he emerged from the slough58, black and dripping in front, well spattered behind, hatless, and one shoe gone, having been carelessly left unlaced in the ardor59 of the chase.
"Here's a mess!" thought poor Corny, surveying himself with great disgust and feeling very helpless, as well as tired, hungry, and mad. "Luckily, my powder is dry and my gun safe; so my fun isn't spoiled, though I do look like a wallowing pig. I've heard of mud baths, but I never took one before, and I'll be shot if I do again."
So he washed as well as he could, hoping the sun would dry him, picked out a few bits of bread unspoiled by the general wreck60, and trudged61 on with less ardor, though by no means discouraged yet.
"I'm too high for any game but birds, and those I[218] don't want. I'll go slap down, and come out in the valley. Abner said any brook49 would show the way, and this rascal62 that led me into a scrape shall lead me out," he said, as he followed the little stream that went tumbling over the stones, that increased as the ground sloped toward the deep ravine, where a waterfall shone like silver in the sun.
"I'll take a bath if the pool is big enough, and that will set me up. Shouldn't wonder if I'd got poisoned a bit with some of these vines I've been tearing through. My hands smart like fury, and I guess the mosquitoes have about eaten my face up. Never saw such clouds of stingers before," said Corny, looking at his scratched hands, and rubbing his hot face in great discomfort,—for it was the gnat63 that drove the lion mad, you remember.
It was easy to say, "I'll follow the brook," but not so easy to do it; for the frolicsome64 stream went headlong over rocks, crept under fallen logs, and now and then hid itself so cleverly that one had to look and listen carefully to recover the trail. It was long past noon when Corny came out near the waterfall, so tired and hungry that he heartily65 wished himself back among the party, who had lunched well and were now probably driving gayly homeward to a good supper.
No chance for a bath appeared, so he washed his burning face and took a rest, enjoying the splendid view far over valley and intervale through the gap in the mountain range. He was desperately67 tired with these hours of rough travel, and very hungry; but would not own it, and sat considering what to do next, for he saw[219] by the sun that the afternoon was half over. There was time to go back the way he had come, and by following the path down the hill he could reach the hotel and get supper and a bed, or be driven home. That was the wise thing to do, but his pride rebelled against returning empty-handed after all his plans and boasts of great exploits.
"I won't go home, to be laughed at by Chris and Abner. I'll shoot something, if I stay all night. Who cares for hunger and mosquito bites? Not I. Hunters can bear more than that, I guess. The next live thing I see I'll shoot it, and make a fire and have a jolly supper. Now which way will I go,—up or down? A pretty hard prospect68, either way."
The sight of an eagle soaring above him seemed to answer his question, and fill him with new strength and ardor. To shoot the king of birds and take him home in triumph would cover the hunter with glory. It should be done! And away he went, climbing, tumbling, leaping from rock to rock, toward the place where the eagle had alighted. More cuts and bruises69, more vain shots, and all the reward of his eager struggles was a single feather that floated down as the great bird soared serenely70 away, leaving the boy exhausted71 and disappointed in a wilderness72 of granite boulders, with no sign of a path to show the way out.
As he leaned breathless and weary against the crag where he had fondly hoped to find the eagle's nest, he realized for the first time what a fool-hardy thing he had done. Here he was, alone, without a guide, in this wild region where there was neither food nor shelter,[220] and night coming on. Utterly73 used up, he could not get home now if he had known the way; and suddenly all the tales he had ever heard of men lost in the mountains came into his head. If he had not been weak with hunger he would have felt better able to bear it; but his legs trembled under him, his head ached with the glare of the sun, and a queer faintness came over him now and then; for the city lad was unused to such violent exercise, plucky74 as he was.
"The only thing to do now is to get down to the valley, if I can, before dark. Abner said there was an old cabin, where the hunters used to sleep, somewhere round that way. I can try for it, and perhaps shoot something on the way. May break my bones, but I can't sit and starve up here, and I was a fool to come. I'll keep the feather anyway, to prove that I really saw an eagle; that's better than nothing."
Still bravely trying to affect the indifference75 to danger and fatigue76 which hunters are always described as possessing in such a remarkable77 degree, Corny slung78 the useless gun on his back and began the steep descent, discovering now the perils79 he had been too eager to see before. He was a good climber, but was stiff with weariness, and his hands already sore with scratches and poison; so he went slowly, feeling quite unfit for such hard work. Coming to the ravine, he found the only road was down its precipitous side to the valley, that looked so safe and pleasant now. Stunted80 pines grew in the fissures81 of the rocks, and their strong roots helped the clinging hands and feet as the boy painfully climbed, slipped, and swung along, fearing every[221] minute to come to some impassable barrier in the dangerous path.
But he got on wonderfully well, and was feeling much encouraged, when his foot slipped, the root he held gave way, and down he went, rolling and bumping to his death on the rocks below, he thought, as a crash came, and he knew no more.
"Wonder if I'm dead?" was the first idea that occurred to him as he opened his eyes and saw a brilliant sky above him, all purple, gold, and red.
He seemed floating in the air, for he swayed to and fro on a soft bed, a pleasant murmur82 reached his ear, and when he looked down he saw what looked like clouds, misty83 and white, below him. He lay a few minutes drowsily84 musing85, for the fall had stunned86 him; then, as he moved his hand something pricked87 it, and he felt pine-needles in the fingers that closed over them.
"Caught in a tree, by Jupiter!" and all visions of heaven vanished in a breath, as he sat up and stared about him, wide awake now, and conscious of many aching bones.
Yes, there he lay among the branches of one of the sturdy pines, into which he had fallen on his way down the precipice88. Blessed little tree! set there to save a life, and teach a lesson to a wilful89 young heart that never forgot that hour.
Holding fast, lest a rash motion should set him bounding further down, like a living ball, Corny took an observation as rapidly as possible, for the red light was fading, and the mist rising from the valley. All[222] he could see was a narrow ledge90 where the tree stood, and anxious to reach a safer bed for the night, he climbed cautiously down to drop on the rock, so full of gratitude91 for safety that he could only lie quite still for a little while, thinking of mother, and trying not to cry.
He was much shaken by the fall, his flesh bruised, his clothes torn, and his spirit cowed; for hunger, weariness, pain, and danger, showed him what a very feeble creature he was, after all. He could do no more till morning, and resigned himself to a night on the mountain side, glad to be there alive, though doubtful what daylight would show him. Too tired to move, he lay watching the western sky, where the sun set gloriously behind the purple hills. All below was wrapped in mist, and not a sound reached him but the sigh of the pine, and the murmur of the waterfall.
"This is a first-class scrape. What a fool I was not to go back when I could, instead of blundering down here where no one can get at me, and as like as not I can't get out alone! Gun smashed in that confounded fall, so I can't even fire a shot to call help. Nothing to eat or drink, and very likely a day or so to spend here till I'm found, if I ever am. Chris said, 'Yell, if you want us.' Much good that would do now! I'll try, though." And getting up on his weary legs, Corny shouted till he was hoarse92; but echo alone answered him, and after a few efforts he gave it up, trying to accept the situation like a man. As if kind Nature took pity on the poor boy,[223] the little ledge was soft with lichens93 and thin grass, and here and there grew a sprig of checkerberry, sown by the wind, sheltered by the tree, and nourished by the moisture that trickled94 down the rock from some hidden spring. Eagerly Corny ate the sweet leaves to stay the pangs95 of hunger that gnawed96 him, and finished his meal with grass and pine-needles, calling himself a calf97, and wishing his pasture were wider.
"The fellows we read about always come to grief in a place where they can shoot a bird, catch a fish, or knock over some handy beast for supper," he said, talking to himself for company. "Even the old chap lost in the bush in Australia had a savage98 with him who dug a hole in a tree, and pulled out a nice fat worm to eat. I'm not lucky enough even to find a sassafras bush to chew, or a bird's egg to suck. My poor gun is broken, or I might bang away at a hawk, and cook him for supper, if the bog99 didn't spoil my matches as it did my lunch. Oh, well! I'll pull through, I guess, and when it's all over, it will be a jolly good story to tell."
Then, hoping to forget his woes100 in sleep, he nestled under the low-growing branches of the pine, and lay blinking drowsily at the twilight101 world outside. A dream came, and he saw the old farm-house in sad confusion, caused by his absence,—the women crying, the men sober, all anxious, and all making ready to come and look for him. So vivid was it that he woke himself by crying out, "Here I am!" and nearly went over the ledge, stretching out his arms to Abner.
The start and the scare made it hard to go to sleep[224] again, and he sat looking at the solemn sky, full of stars that seemed watching over him alone there, like a poor, lost child on the great mountain's stony102 breast. He had never seen the world at that hour before, and it made a deep impression on him; for it was a vast, wild scene, full of gloomy shadows below, unknown dangers around, and a new sense of utter littleness and helplessness, which taught the boy human dependence103 upon Heavenly love as no words, even from his mother's tender lips, could have done. Thoughts of the suffering his wilfulness104 had given her wrung105 a few penitent106 tears from him, which he was not ashamed to shed, since only the kind stars saw them, and better still, he resolved to own the fault, to atone107 for it, and to learn wisdom from this lesson, which might yet prove to be a very bitter one.
He felt better after this little breakdown108, and presently his thoughts were turned from conscience to catamounts again; for sounds in the woods below led him to believe that the much-desired animal was on the prowl. His excited fancy painted dozens of them not far away, waiting to be shot, and there he was, cooped up on that narrow ledge, with a broken gun, unable even to get a look at them. He felt that it was a just punishment, and after the first regret tried to comfort himself with the fact that he was much safer where he was than alone in the forest at that hour, for various nocturnal voices suggested restless and dangerous neighbors.
Presently his wakeful eyes saw lights twinkling far off on the opposite side of the ravine, and he imagined[225] he heard shouts and shots. But the splash of the waterfall, and the rush of the night wind deadened the sounds to his ear, and drowned his own reply.
"They are looking for me, and will never think of this strange place. I can't make them hear, and must wait till morning. Poor Chris will get an awful scolding for letting me go. Don't believe he told a word till he had to. I'll make it up to him. Chris is a capital fellow, and I just wish I had him here to make things jolly," thought the lonely lad.
But soon the lights vanished, the sounds died away, and the silence of midnight brooded over the hills, seldom broken except by the soft cry of an owl31, the rustle109 of the pine, or a louder gust5 of wind as it grew strong and cold. Corny kept awake as long as he could, fearing to dream and fall; but by-and-by he dropped off, and slept soundly till the chill of dawn waked him.
At any other time he would have heartily enjoyed the splendor110 of the eastern sky, as the red glow spread and brightened, till the sun came dazzling through the gorge111, making the wild solitude112 beautiful and grand.
Now, however, he would have given it all for a hot beefsteak and a cup of coffee, as he wet his lips with a few drops of ice-cold water, and browsed113 over his small pasture till not a green spire114 remained. He was stiff, and full of pain, but daylight and the hope of escape cheered him up, and gave him coolness and courage to see how best he could accomplish his end.
The wind soon blew away the mist and let him see that the dry bed of a stream lay just below. To reach[226] it he must leap, at risk of his bones, or find some means to swing down ten or twelve feet. Once there, it was pretty certain that by following the rough road he would come into the valley, from whence he could easily find his way home. Much elated at this unexpected good fortune, he took the strap116 that had slung his gun, the leathern belt about his waist, and the strong cords of his pouch117, and knotting them together, made a rope long enough to let him drop within two or three feet of the stones below. This he fastened firmly round the trunk of the pine, and finished his preparations by tying his handkerchief to one of the branches, that it might serve as a guide for him, a signal for others, and a trophy118 of his grand fall.
Then putting a little sprig of the evergreen119 tree in his jacket, with a grateful thought of all it had done for him, he swung himself off and landed safely below, not minding a few extra bumps after his late exploits at tumbling.
Feeling like a prisoner set free, he hurried as fast as bare feet and stiff legs would carry him along the bed of the stream, coming at last into the welcome shelter of the woods, which seemed more beautiful than ever, after the bleak120 region of granite in which he had been all night.
Anxious to report himself alive, and relieve his mother's anxiety, he pressed on till he struck the path, and soon saw, not far away, the old cabin Abner had spoken of. Just before this happy moment he had heard a shot fired somewhere in the forest, and as he hurried toward the sound he saw an animal dart into the hut, as if for shelter.
Whether it was a rabbit, woodchuck or dog, he had[227] not seen, as a turn in the path prevented a clear view; and hoping it was old Buff looking for him, he ran in, to find himself face to face with a catamount at last.
There she was, the big, fierce cat, crouched121 in a corner, with fiery122 eyes, growling123 and spitting at sight of an enemy, but too badly wounded to fight, as the blood that dripped from her neck, and the tremble of her limbs plainly showed.
"Now's my chance! Don't care who shot her, I'll kill her, and have her too, if I pay my last dollar," thought Corny; and catching124 up a stout bit of timber fallen from the old roof, he struck one quick blow, which finished poor puss, who gave up the ghost with a savage snarl54, and a vain effort to pounce125 on him.
This splendid piece of good luck atoned126 for all the boy had gone through, and only waiting to be sure the beast was quite dead and past clawing, he flung his prize over his shoulder, and with renewed strength and spirit trudged along the woodland road toward home, proudly imagining his triumphal entry upon the scene of suspense127 and alarm.
"Wish I didn't look so like a scare-crow; but perhaps my rags will add to the effect. Won't the girls laugh at my swelled128 face, and scream at the cat. Poor mammy will mourn over me and coddle me up as if I'd been to the wars. Hope some house isn't very far off, for I don't believe I can lug129 this brute130 much farther, I'm so starved and shaky."
Just as he paused to take breath and shift his[228] burden from one shoulder to the other, a loud shout startled him, and a moment after, several men came bursting through the wood, cheering like lunatics as they approached.
It was Abner, Chris, and some of the neighbors, setting out again on their search, after a night of vain wandering. Corny could have hugged them all and cried like a girl; but pride kept him steady, though his face showed his joy as he nodded his hatless head with a cool—
"Hullo!"
Chris burst into his ringing laugh, and danced a wild sort of jig131 round his mate, as the only way in which he could fitly express his relief; for he had been so bowed down with remorse132 at his imprudence in letting Corny go that no one could find the heart to blame him, and all night the poor lad had rushed up and down seeking, calling, hoping, and fearing, till he was about used up, and looked nearly as dilapidated as Corny.
The tale was soon told, and received with the most flattering signs of interest, wonder, sympathy, and admiration133.
"Why in thunder didn't you tell me?—and I'd a got up a hunt wuth havin',—not go stramashing off alone on a wild goose chase like this. Never did see such a chap as you be for gittin' inter66 scrapes,—and out of 'em too, I'm bound to own," growled134 Abner.
"That isn't a wild goose, is it?" proudly demanded Corny, pointing to the cat, which now lay on[229] the ground, while he leaned against a tree to hide his weariness; for he felt ready to drop, now all the excitement was over.
"No it ain't, and I congratulate you on a good job. Where did you shoot her?" asked Abner, stooping to examine the creature.
"Didn't shoot her; broke my gun when I took that header down the mountain. I hit her a rap with a club, in the cabin where I found her," answered Corny, heartily wishing he need not share the prize with any one. But he was honest, and added at once, "Some one else had put a bullet into her; I only finished her off."
"Chris did it; he fired a spell back and see the critter run, but we was too keen after you to stop for any other game. Guess you've had enough of catamounts for one spell, hey?" and Abner laughed as he looked at poor Corny, who was a more sorry spectacle than he knew,—ragged and rough, hatless and shoeless, his face red and swelled with the poisoning and bites, his eyes heavy with weariness, and in his mouth a bit of wild-cherry bark which he chewed ravenously135.
"No, I haven't! I want this one, and will buy it if Chris will let me. I said I'd kill one, and I did, and want to keep the skin; for I ought to have something to show after all this knocking about and turning somersaults half a mile long," answered Corny stoutly136, as he tried to shoulder his load again.
"Here, give me the varmint, and you hang on to Chris, my boy, or we'll have to cart you home.[230] You've done first-rate, and now you want a good meal of vittles to set you up. Right about face, neighbors, and home we go, to the tune115 of Hail Columby."
As Abner spoke, the procession set forth137. The tall, jolly man, with the dead animal at his back, went first; then Corny, trying not to lean on the arm Chris put round him, but very glad of the support; next the good farmers, all talking at once; while old Buff soberly brought up the rear, with his eye on the wildcat, well knowing that he would have a fine feast when the handsome skin was off.
In this order they reached home, and Corny tumbled into his mother's arms, to be no more seen for some hours. What went on in her room, no one knows; but when at last the hero emerged, refreshed by sleep and food, clad in clean clothes, his wounds bound up, and plantain-leaves dipped in cream spread upon his afflicted138 countenance139, he received the praises and congratulations showered upon him very meekly140. He made no more boasts of skill and courage that summer, set out on no more wild hunts, and gave up his own wishes so cheerfully that it was evident something had worked a helpful change in wilful Corny.
He liked to tell the story of that day and night when his friends were recounting adventures by sea and land; but he never said much about the hours on the ledge, always owned that Chris shot the beast, and usually ended by sagely141 advising his hearers to let their mothers know, when they went off on a lark of that kind. Those who knew and loved him best[231] observed that he was fonder than ever of nibbling142 checkerberry leaves, that he didn't mind being laughed at for liking143 to wear a bit of pine in his buttonhole, and that the skin of the catamount so hardly won lay before his study table till the moths144 ate it up.
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1
whittling
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的现在分词 ) | |
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2
thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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3
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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4
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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5
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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6
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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7
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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8
overalls
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| n.（复）工装裤；长罩衣 | |
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9
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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10
perch
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| n.栖木，高位，杆；v.栖息，就位，位于 | |
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11
jeer
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| vi.嘲弄，揶揄；vt.奚落；n.嘲笑，讥评 | |
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12
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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13
plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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14
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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15
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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16
meddle
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| v.干预，干涉，插手 | |
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17
brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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18
dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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19
hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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20
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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21
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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22
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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23
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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24
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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25
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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26
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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27
chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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28
jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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29
feats
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| 功绩，伟业，技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
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30
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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31
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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32
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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33
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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34
tightening
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| 上紧，固定，紧密 | |
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36
delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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37
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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38
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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39
boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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40
plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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41
imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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42
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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44
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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45
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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46
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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47
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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48
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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49
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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50
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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51
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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52
warily
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| adv.留心地 | |
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53
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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54
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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55
furry
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| adj.毛皮的；似毛皮的；毛皮制的 | |
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56
hawk
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| n.鹰，骗子；鹰派成员 | |
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57
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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58
slough
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| v.蜕皮，脱落，抛弃 | |
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59
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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60
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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61
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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62
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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63
gnat
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| v.对小事斤斤计较，琐事 | |
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64
frolicsome
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| adj.嬉戏的，闹着玩的 | |
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65
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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66
inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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67
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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68
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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69
bruises
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| n.瘀伤，伤痕，擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
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70
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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71
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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72
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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73
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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74
plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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75
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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76
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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77
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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78
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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79
perils
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| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
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80
stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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81
fissures
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| n.狭长裂缝或裂隙( fissure的名词复数 )；裂伤；分歧；分裂v.裂开( fissure的第三人称单数 ) | |
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82
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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83
misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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84
drowsily
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| adv.睡地，懒洋洋地，昏昏欲睡地 | |
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85
musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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86
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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87
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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88
precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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89
wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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90
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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91
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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92
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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93
lichens
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| n.地衣( lichen的名词复数 ) | |
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94
trickled
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| v.滴( trickle的过去式和过去分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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95
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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96
gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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97
calf
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| n.小牛，犊，幼仔，小牛皮 | |
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98
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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99
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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100
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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101
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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102
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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103
dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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104
wilfulness
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| 任性；倔强 | |
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105
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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106
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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107
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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108
breakdown
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| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
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109
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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110
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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111
gorge
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| n.咽喉，胃，暴食，山峡；v.塞饱，狼吞虎咽地吃 | |
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112
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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113
browsed
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| v.吃草( browse的过去式和过去分词 )；随意翻阅；（在商店里）随便看看；（在计算机上）浏览信息 | |
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114
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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115
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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116
strap
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| n.皮带，带子；v.用带扣住，束牢；用绷带包扎 | |
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117
pouch
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| n.小袋，小包，囊状袋；vt.装...入袋中，用袋运输；vi.用袋送信件 | |
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118
trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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119
evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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120
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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121
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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122
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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123
growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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124
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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125
pounce
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| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
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126
atoned
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| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
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127
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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128
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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129
lug
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| n.柄，突出部，螺帽；(英）耳朵；（俚）笨蛋；vt.拖，拉，用力拖动 | |
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130
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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131
jig
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| n.快步舞（曲）；v.上下晃动；用夹具辅助加工；蹦蹦跳跳 | |
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132
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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133
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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134
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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135
ravenously
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| adv.大嚼地，饥饿地 | |
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136
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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137
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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138
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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139
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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140
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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141
sagely
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| adv. 贤能地，贤明地 | |
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142
nibbling
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的现在分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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143
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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144
moths
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| n.蛾( moth的名词复数 ) | |
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