Spinning-Wheel Story by Louisa M. Alcott
Crony’s Catamount
Two boys sat on the bars, one whittling, the other whistling,--not forwant of thought by any means, for his brow was knit in an anxious frown,and he paused now and then to thump the rail, with an impatientexclamation. The other lad appeared to be absorbed in shaping an arrowfrom the slender stick in his hand, but he watched his neighbor with agrin, saying a few words occasionally which seemed to add to hisirritation, though they were in a sympathizing tone.
"Oh, well, if a chap can't do a thing he can't; and he'd better give upand say, 'Beat.'"
"But I won't give up, and I never say 'Beat.' I'm not going to belaughed out of it, and I'll do what I said I would, if it takes allsummer, Chris Warner."
"You'll have to be pretty spry, then, for there's only two more days toAugust," replied the whittler, shutting one eye to look along his arrowand see if it was true.
"I intend to be spry, and if you won't go and blab, I'll tell you a planI made last night."
"Guess you can trust me. I've heard about a dozen plans now, and nevertold 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 mite. But I'll stand ready to pick up thepieces, if you come to grief."
"Now, Chris, it's mean of you to keep on making fun when I'm in deadearnest; 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' Imay want it. Granite's cheap up here; just mention what you'd like onyour tombstone and I'll see that it's done, if it takes my last cent."
The big boy in the blue overalls spoke with such a comical drawl thatthe slender city lad could not help laughing, and with a slap thatnearly sent his neighbor off his perch, Corny said good-naturedly:
"Come now, stop joking and lend a hand, and I'll do anything I can foryou. I've set my heart on shooting a wildcat, and I know I can if I onceget a good chance. Mother won't let me go off far enough, so of course Idon't do it, and then you all jeer at me. To-morrow we are going up themountain, and I'm set on trying again, for Abner says the big woods arethe place to find the 'varmint'. Now you hold your tongue, and let meslip away when I think we've hit the right spot. I'm not a bit afraid,and while the rest go poking to the top, I'll plunge into the woods and see what I can do."
"All right. Better take old Buff; he'll bring you home when you getlost, and keep puss from clawing you. You won't like that part of thefun as much as you expect to, maybe," said Chris, with a sly twinkle ofthe eye, as he glanced at Corny and then away to the vast forest thatstretched far up the mighty mountain's side.
"No, I don't want any help, and Buff will betray me by barking; I preferto go alone. I shall take some lunch and plenty of shot, and have aglorious time, even if I don't meet that confounded beast. I will keepdashing in and out of the woods as we go; then no one will miss me for awhile, and when they do you just say, 'Oh, he's all right; he'll bealong directly,' and go ahead, and let me alone."
Corny spoke so confidently, and looked so pleased with his plan, thathonest Chris could not bear to tell him how much danger he would run inthat 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 adviseyour goin'; but if you're mad for catamounts, I s'pose I must humor youand say nothing. Only bear in mind, Abner and I will be along, and ifyou get into a scrape jest give a yell and we'll come."
"No fear of that; I've tramped round all summer, and know my way like anIndian. Keep the girls quiet, and let me have a good lark. I'll turn upall right by sundown; so don't worry. Not a word to mother, mind, or shewon't let me go. I'll make things straight with her after the fun isover."
"That ain't just square; but it's not my funeral, so I won't meddle.Hope you'll have first rate sport, and bag a brace of cats. One thingyou mind, don't get too nigh before you fire; and keep out of sight ofthe critters as much as you can."
Chris spoke in a deep whisper, looking so excited and impressed by thereckless 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 inhis own powers. If he had seen Chris dart behind the barn, and thereroll upon the grass in convulsions of laughter, he would have been bothsurprised and hurt.
No deacon could have been more sober, however, than Chris when they metnext morning, while the party of summer boarders at the old farm-housewere in a pleasant bustle of preparation for the long expected day onthe mountain. Three merry girls, a pair of small boys, two amiablemammas, Chris and Corny, made up the party, with Abner to drive the bigwagon drawn by Milk and Molasses, the yellow span.
"All aboard!" shouted our young Nimrod, in a hurry to be off, as thelunch-basket was handed up, and the small boys packed in the mostuncomfortable corners, regardless of their arms and legs.
Away they rattled with a parting cheer, and peace fell upon thefarm-house for a few hours, to the great contentment of the good peopleleft behind. Corny's mother was one of them, and her last wordswere,--"A pleasant day, dear. I wish you'd leave that gun at home; I'mso afraid you'll get hurt with it.'
"No fun without it. Don't worry, mammy; I'm old enough to take care ofmyself."
"I'll see to him, ma'am," called Chris, as he hung on behind, and wavedhis old straw hat, with a steady, reliable sort of look, that made theanxious lady feel more comfortable.
"We are going to walk up, and leave the horses to rest; so I can choosemy time. See, I've got a bottle of cold tea in this pocket, and a lot ofgrub in the other. No danger of my starving, is there?" whispered Corny,as he leaned over to Chris, who sat, apparently, on nothing, with hislong legs dangling into space.
"Shouldn't wonder if you needed every mite of it. Hunting is mighty hardwork 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 describethe drive, which was a merry one; with girls chattering, mammas holdingon to excited small boys, in danger of flying out at every jolt, Abnerjoking till every one roared, Corny's dangerous evolutions with thebeloved gun, and the gymnastic feats Chris performed, jumping off topick flowers for the ladies, and getting on again while Milk andMolasses 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 ashort rest at the hotel, began the three-mile ascent in high spirits.Abner was to follow later with the wagon, to bring the party down; soChris 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 thetop. The ladies went more slowly, enjoying the grand beauty of thescene, while Chris carried the lunch-basket, and Corny lingered in therear, waiting for a good chance to "plunge."
He wanted to be off before Abner came, as he well knew that wise man andmighty hunter would never let him go alone.
"The very next path I see, I'll dive in and run; Chris can't leave therest to follow, and if I once get a good start, they won't catch me in ahurry," thought the boy, longing to be free and alone in the wild woodsthat tempted him on either hand.
Just as he was tightening his belt to be ready for the run, Mrs. Barker,the stout lady, called him; and being a well-bred lad, he hastened atonce to see what she wanted, feeling that he was the only gentleman inthe party.
"Give me your arm, dear; I'm getting very tired, and fear I can't holdout to the top, without a little help," said the poor lady, red andpanting with the heat, and steepness of the road.
"Certainly ma'am," answered Corny, obeying at once, and inwardlyresolving to deposit his fair burden on the first fallen log they cameto, and make his escape.
But Mrs. Barker got on bravely, with the support of his strong arm, andchatted away so delightfully that Corny would really have enjoyed thewalk, if his soul had not been yearning for catamounts. He did his best,but when they passed opening after opening into the green recesses ofthe wood, and the granite boulders grew more and more plentiful, hispatience gave out, and he began to plan what he could say to excusehimself. Chris was behind, apparently deaf and blind to his calls andimploring glances, though he grinned cheerfully when poor Corny lookedround and beckoned, as well as he could, with a gun on one arm and astout lady on the other.
"The hardest part is coming now, and we'd better rest a moment. Here's anice rock, and the last spring we are likely to see till we get to thetop. 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 rummaged in the well-packed basket, Cornyslipped into the wood, leaving the good lady with her thanks halfspoken, sitting on a warm stone beside a muddy little pool. A loud laughfollowed him, as he scrambled through the tall ferns and went plungingdown 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 overmy shoulder," thought Corny, tearing along, heedless of falls,scratches, and bruised knees.
At length he paused for breath, and looked about him well satisfied, forthe spot was lonely and lovely enough to suit any hunter. The tallestpines he ever saw sighed far overhead; the ground was ankle deep inmoss, and gay with scarlet bunch-berries; every fallen log was veiled bysweet-scented Linnea, green vines or nodding brakes; while hidden brookssang musically, and the air was full of the soft flutter of leaves, thewhir of wings, the sound of birds gossiping sweetly in the safe shelterof the forest, where human feet so seldom came.
"I'll rest a bit, and then go along down, keeping a look out for puss bythe way," thought Corny, feeling safe and free, and very happy, for hehad 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 thejoys of a hunter's life,--till a peculiar cry startled him to his feet,and sent him creeping warily toward the sound. Whether it was a new kindof bird, or a fox, or a bear, he did not know, but fondly hoped it was awildcat; though he was well aware that the latter creature sleeps byday, and prowls by night. Abner said they purred and snarled and gave amewing sort of cry; but which it was now he could not tell, havingunfortunately been half asleep.
On he went, looking up into the trees for a furry bunch, behind everylog, and in every rocky hole, longing and hoping to discover hisheart's desire. But a hawk was all he saw above, an ugly snake was theonly living thing he found among the logs, and a fat woodchuck's hindlegs vanished down the most attractive hole. He shot at all three andmissed them, so pushed on, pretending that he did not care for suchsmall 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 concealed under thegrass. He sunk up to his knees, and with great difficulty got out byclinging to the tussocks that grew near. In his struggles the lunch waslost, for the bottle broke and the pocket where the sandwiches werestored was full of mud. A woful spectacle was the trim lad as he emergedfrom the slough, black and dripping in front, well spattered behind,hatless, and one shoe gone, having been carelessly left unlaced in theardor of the chase.
"Here's a mess!" thought poor Corny, surveying himself with greatdisgust 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 Inever 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, pickedout a few bits of bread unspoiled by the general wreck, and trudged onwith less ardor, though by no means discouraged yet.
"I'm too high for any game but birds, and those I don't want. I'll goslap down, and come out in the valley. Abner said any brook would showthe way, and this rascal that led me into a scrape shall lead me out,"he said, as he followed the little stream that went tumbling over thestones, 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'vebeen tearing through. My hands smart like fury, and I guess themosquitoes have about eaten my face up. Never saw such clouds ofstingers before," said Corny, looking at his scratched hands, andrubbing his hot face in great discomfort,--for it was the gnat thatdrove the lion mad, you remember.
It was easy to say, "I'll follow the brook," but not so easy to do it;for the frolicsome stream went headlong over rocks, crept under fallenlogs, and now and then hid itself so cleverly that one had to look andlisten carefully to recover the trail. It was long past noon when Cornycame out near the waterfall, so tired and hungry that he heartily wishedhimself back among the party, who had lunched well and were now probablydriving gayly homeward to a good supper.
No chance for a bath appeared, so he washed his burning face and took arest, enjoying the splendid view far over valley and intervale throughthe gap in the mountain range. He was desperately tired with these hoursof rough travel, and very hungry; but would not own it, and satconsidering what to do next, for he saw by the sun that the afternoonwas half over. There was time to go back the way he had come, and byfollowing the path down the hill he could reach the hotel and get supperand a bed, or be driven home. That was the wise thing to do, but hispride rebelled against returning empty-handed after all his plans andboasts of great exploits.
"I won't go home, to be laughed at by Chris and Abner. I'll shootsomething, 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 Isee I'll shoot it, and make a fire and have a jolly supper. Now whichway will I go,--up or down? A pretty hard prospect, 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 andtake him home in triumph would cover the hunter with glory. It should bedone! And away he went, climbing, tumbling, leaping from rock to rock,toward the place where the eagle had alighted. More cuts and bruises,more vain shots, and all the reward of his eager struggles was a singlefeather that floated down as the great bird soared serenely away,leaving the boy exhausted and disappointed in a wilderness of graniteboulders, with no sign of a path to show the way out.
As he leaned breathless and weary against the crag where he had fondlyhoped to find the eagle's nest, he realized for the first time what afool-hardy thing he had done. Here he was, alone, without a guide, inthis wild region where there was neither food nor shelter, and nightcoming on. Utterly used up, he could not get home now if he had knownthe way; and suddenly all the tales he had ever heard of men lost in themountains came into his head. If he had not been weak with hunger hewould 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 cameover him now and then; for the city lad was unused to such violentexercise, plucky as he was.
"The only thing to do now is to get down to the valley, if I can, beforedark. Abner said there was an old cabin, where the hunters used tosleep, somewhere round that way. I can try for it, and perhaps shootsomething on the way. May break my bones, but I can't sit and starve uphere, and I was a fool to come. I'll keep the feather anyway, to provethat I really saw an eagle; that's better than nothing."
Still bravely trying to affect the indifference to danger and fatiguewhich hunters are always described as possessing in such a remarkabledegree, Corny slung the useless gun on his back and began the steepdescent, discovering now the perils he had been too eager to see before.He was a good climber, but was stiff with weariness, and his handsalready sore with scratches and poison; so he went slowly, feeling quiteunfit for such hard
work. Coming to the ravine, he found the only roadwas down its precipitous side to the valley, that looked so safe andpleasant now. Stunted pines grew in the fissures of the rocks, and theirstrong roots helped the clinging hands and feet as the boy painfullyclimbed, slipped, and swung along, fearing every minute to come to someimpassable barrier in the dangerous path.
But he got on wonderfully well, and was feeling much encouraged, whenhis foot slipped, the root he held gave way, and down he went, rollingand bumping to his death on the rocks below, he thought, as a crashcame, and he knew no more.
"Wonder if I'm dead?" was the first idea that occurred to him as heopened his eyes and saw a brilliant sky above him, all purple, gold, andred.
He seemed floating in the air, for he swayed to and fro on a soft bed, apleasant murmur reached his ear, and when he looked down he saw whatlooked like clouds, misty and white, below him. He lay a few minutesdrowsily musing, for the fall had stunned him; then, as he moved hishand something pricked it, and he felt pine-needles in the fingers thatclosed over them.
"Caught in a tree, by Jupiter!" and all visions of heaven vanished in abreath, as he sat up and stared about him, wide awake now, and consciousof many aching bones.
Yes, there he lay among the branches of one of the sturdy pines, intowhich he had fallen on his way down the precipice. Blessed little tree!set there to save a life, and teach a lesson to a wilful young heartthat 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. Allhe could see was a narrow ledge where the tree stood, and anxious toreach a safer bed for the night, he climbed cautiously down to drop onthe rock, so full of gratitude for safety that he could only lie quitestill 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, andhis spirit cowed; for hunger, weariness, pain, and danger, showed himwhat a very feeble creature he was, after all. He could do no more tillmorning, and resigned himself to a night on the mountain side, glad tobe there alive, though doubtful what daylight would show him. Too tiredto move, he lay watching the western sky, where the sun set gloriouslybehind the purple hills. All below was wrapped in mist, and not a soundreached 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 Icould, instead of blundering down here where no one can get at me, andas like as not I can't get out alone! Gun smashed in that confoundedfall, 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'lltry, though." And getting up on his weary legs, Corny shouted till hewas hoarse; but echo alone answered him, and after a few efforts he gaveit up, trying to accept the situation like a man. As if kind Nature tookpity on the poor boy, the little ledge was soft with lichens and thingrass, and here and there grew a sprig of checkerberry, sown by thewind, sheltered by the tree, and nourished by the moisture that trickleddown the rock from some hidden spring. Eagerly Corny ate the sweetleaves to stay the pangs of hunger that gnawed him, and finished hismeal with grass and pine-needles, calling himself a calf, and wishinghis pasture were wider.
"The fellows we read about always come to grief in a place where theycan shoot a bird, catch a fish, or knock over some handy beast forsupper," he said, talking to himself for company. "Even the old chaplost in the bush in Australia had a savage with him who dug a hole in atree, and pulled out a nice fat worm to eat. I'm not lucky enough evento find a sassafras bush to chew, or a bird's egg to suck. My poor gunis broken, or I might bang away at a hawk, and cook him for supper, ifthe bog didn't spoil my matches as it did my lunch. Oh, well! I'll pullthrough, I guess, and when it's all over, it will be a jolly good storyto tell."
Then, hoping to forget his woes in sleep, he nestled under thelow-growing branches of the pine, and lay blinking drowsily at thetwilight world outside. A dream came, and he saw the old farm-house insad 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 wasit that he woke himself by crying out, "Here I am!" and nearly went overthe ledge, stretching out his arms to Abner.
The start and the scare made it hard to go to sleep again, and he satlooking at the solemn sky, full of stars that seemed watching over himalone there, like a poor, lost child on the great mountain's stonybreast. He had never seen the world at that hour before, and it made adeep impression on him; for it was a vast, wild scene, full of gloomyshadows below, unknown dangers around, and a new sense of utterlittleness and helplessness, which taught the boy human dependence uponHeavenly love as no words, even from his mother's tender lips, couldhave done. Thoughts of the suffering his wilfulness had given her wrunga few penitent tears from him, which he was not ashamed to shed, sinceonly the kind stars saw them, and better still, he resolved to own thefault, to atone for it, and to learn wisdom from this lesson, whichmight yet prove to be a very bitter one.
He felt better after this little breakdown, and presently his thoughtswere turned from conscience to catamounts again; for sounds in the woodsbelow 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 beshot, and there he was, cooped up on that narrow ledge, with a brokengun, unable even to get a look at them. He felt that it was a justpunishment, and after the first regret tried to comfort himself with thefact that he was much safer where he was than alone in the forest atthat hour, for various nocturnal voices suggested restless and dangerousneighbors.
Presently his wakeful eyes saw lights twinkling far off on the oppositeside of the ravine, and he imagined he heard shouts and shots. But thesplash of the waterfall, and the rush of the night wind deadened thesounds to his ear, and drowned his own reply.
"They are looking for me, and will never think of this strange place. Ican't make them hear, and must wait till morning. Poor Chris will get anawful scolding for letting me go. Don't believe he told a word till hehad to. I'll make it up to him. Chris is a capital fellow, and I justwish I had him here to make things jolly," thought the lonely lad.
But soon the lights vanished, the sounds died away, and the silence ofmidnight brooded over the hills, seldom broken except by the soft cry ofan owl, the rustle of the pine, or a louder gust of wind as it grewstrong and cold. Corny kept awake as long as he could, fearing to dreamand fall; but by-and-by he dropped off, and slept soundly till the chillof dawn waked him.
At any other time he would have heartily enjoyed the splendor of theeastern sky, as the red glow spread and brightened, till the sun camedazzling through the gorge, making the wild solitude beautiful andgrand.
Now, however, he would have given it all for a hot beefsteak and a cupof coffee, as he wet his lips with a few drops of ice-cold water, andbrowsed over his small pasture till not a green spire remained. He wasstiff, and full of pain, but daylight and the hope of escape cheered himup, and gave him coolness and courage to see how best he couldaccomplish his end.
The wind soon blew away the mist and let him see that the dry bed of astream lay just below. To reach it he must leap, at risk of his bones,or find some means to swing down ten or twelve feet. Once there, it waspretty certain that by following the rough road he would come into thevalley, from whence he could easily find his way home. Much elated atthis unexpected good fortune, he took the strap that had slung his gun,the leathern belt about his waist, and the strong cords of his pouch,and knotting them together, made a rope long enough to let him dropwithin two or three feet of the stones below. This he fastened firmlyround the trunk of the pine, and finished his preparations by tying hishandkerchief to one of the branches, that it might serve as a guide forhim, a signal for others, and a trophy of his grand fall.
Then putting a little sprig of the evergreen tree in his jacket, with agrateful thought of all it had done for him, he swung himself off andlanded safely below, not minding a few extra bumps after his lateexploits at tumbling.
Feeling like a prisoner set free, he hurried as fast as bare feet andstiff legs would carry him along the bed of the stream, coming at lastinto the welcome shelter of the woods, which seemed more beautiful thanever, after the bleak region of granite in which he had been all night.
Anxious to report himself alive, and relieve his mother's anxiety, hepressed on till he struck the path, and soon saw, not far away, the oldcabin Abner had spoken of. Just before this happy moment he had heard ashot fired somewhere in the forest, and as he hurried toward the soundhe saw an animal dart into the hut, as if for shelter.
Whether it was a rabbit, woodchuck or dog, he had not seen, as a turn inthe path prevented a clear view; and hoping it was old Buff looking forhim, he ran in, to find himself face to face with a catamount at last.
There she was, the big, fierce cat, crouched in a corner, with fieryeyes, growling and spitting at sight of an enemy, but too badly woundedto fight, as the blood that dripped from her neck, and the tremble ofher limbs plainly showed.
"Now's my chance! Don't care who shot her, I'll kill her, and have hertoo, if I pay my last dollar," thought Corny; and catching up a stoutbit of timber fallen from the old roof, he struck one quick blow, whichfinished poor puss, who gave up the ghost with a savage snarl, and avain effort to pounce on him.
This splendid piece of good luck atoned for all the boy had gonethrough, and only waiting to be sure the beast was quite dead and pastclawing, he flung his prize over his shoulder, and with renewed strengthand spirit trudged along the woodland road toward home, proudlyimagining his triumphal entry upon the scene of suspense and alarm.
"Wish I didn't look so like a scare-crow; but perhaps my rags will addto the effect. Won't the girls laugh at my swelled face, and scream atthe cat. Poor mammy will mourn over me and coddle me up as if I'd beento the wars. Hope some house isn't very far off, for I don't believe Ican lug this brute much farther, I'm so starved and shaky."
Just as he paused to take breath and shift his burden from one shoulderto the other, a loud shout startled him, and a moment after, several mencame bursting through the wood, cheering like lunatics as theyapproached.
It was Abner, Chris, and some of the neighbors, setting out again ontheir search, after a night of vain wandering. Corny could have huggedthem all and cried like a girl; but pride kept him steady, though hisface 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 jig roundhis mate, as the only way in which he could fitly express his relief;for he had been so bowed down with remorse at his imprudence in lettingCorny go that no one could find the heart to blame him, and all nightthe poor lad had rushed up and down seeking, calling, hoping, andfearing, 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 ofinterest, wonder, sympathy, and admiration.
"Why in thunder didn't you tell me?--and I'd a got up a hunt wuthhavin',--not go stramashing off alone on a wild goose chase like this.Never did see such a chap as you be for gittin' inter scrapes,--and outof 'em too, I'm bound to own," growled Abner.
"That isn't a wild goose, is it?" proudly demanded Corny, pointing tothe cat, which now lay on the ground, while he leaned against a tree tohide his weariness; for he felt ready to drop, now all the excitementwas over.
"No it ain't, and I congratulate you on a good job. Where did you shoother?" asked Abner, stooping to examine the creature.
"Didn't shoot her; broke my gun when I took that header down themountain. 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 anyone. But he was honest, and added at once, "Some one else had put abullet into her; I only finished her off."
"Chris did it; he fired a spell back and see the critter run, but we wastoo keen after you to stop for any other game. Guess you've had enoughof catamounts for one spell, hey?" and Abner laughed as he looked atpoor Corny, who was a more sorry spectacle than he knew,--ragged andrough, hatless and shoeless, his face red and swelled with the poisoningand bites, his eyes heavy with weariness, and in his mouth a bit ofwild-cherry bark which he chewed ravenously.
"No, I haven't! I want this one, and will buy it if Chris will let me. Isaid I'd kill one, and I did, and want to keep the skin; for I ought tohave something to show after all this knocking about and turningsomersaults half a mile long," answered Corny stoutly, as he tried toshoulder his load again.
"Here, give me the varmint, and you hang on to Chris, my boy, or we'llhave to cart you home. You've done first-rate, and now you want a goodmeal of vittles to set you up. Right about face, neighbors, and home wego, to the tune of Hail Columby."
As Abner spoke, the procession set forth. The tall, jolly man, with thedead animal at his back, went first; then Corny, trying not to lean onthe arm Chris put round him, but very glad of the support; next the goodfarmers, all talking at once; while old Buff soberly brought up therear, with his eye on the wildcat, well knowing that he would have afine feast when the handsome skin was off.
In this order they reached home, and Corny tumbled into his mother'sarms, to be no more seen for some hours. What went on in her room, noone knows; but when at last the hero emerged, refreshed by sleep andfood, clad in clean clothes, his wounds bound up, and plantain-leavesdipped in cream spread upon his afflicted countenance, he received thepraises and congratulations showered upon him very meekly. He made nomore boasts of skill and courage that summer, set out on no more wildhunts, and gave up his own wishes so cheerfully that it was evidentsomething had worked a helpful change in wilful Corny.
He liked to tell the story of that day and night when his friends wererecounting adventures by sea and land; but he never said much about thehours on the ledge, always owned that Chris shot the beast, and usuallyended by sagely advising his hearers to let their mothers know, whenthey went off on a lark of that kind. Those who knew and loved him bestobserved that he was fonder than ever of nibbling checkerberry leaves,that he didn't mind being laughed at for liking to wear a bit of pine inhis buttonhole, and that the skin of the catamount so hardly won laybefore his study table till the moths ate it up.