Chapter XX. Discipline
He made the preparation for supper with such easy speed that everythingseemed to be done by magic hands. When Joan's mother cooked supper therewas always much rattling of the stove, then the building of the fire, along preparation of food, and another interval when things steamed andsizzled on the fire. There followed the setting of the table, and thena long, aching time of hunger when the food was in sight, but one couldnot eat until Daddy Dan had done this, and Munner had done that. Also,when one did eat, half the taste was taken from things by the necessityof various complicated evolutions of knife and fork. Instance theabsurdity of taking the fork under the thumb with the forefingerpressing along the back of the wobbly instrument, when any one could seethat the proper, natural way of using a fork was to grasp it daggerwiseand drive it firmly through that skidding piece of meat. Not only this,but a cup must be held in one hand, and bread must be broken into littlepieces before putting butter on it. Above all, no matter how terriblyhard one tried, there was sure to be a mistake, and then: "Now, Joan,don't do that. This is the way--"
But how different everything was in this delightful house of Daddy Dan!
In an incredibly short time three torches flared about them and filledthe air with scents of freshness and the outdoors-scents that wenttingling up the nose and filled one with immense possibilities ofeating. At the very same time, a few motions caused a heap of woodto catch fire and blaze among the stones while a steady stream ofblue-white smoke wavered up toward the top of the cave and disappearedin the shadows. After this her father showed her a little stream ofwater which must come from a spring far back in the cave, and thecurrent slipped noiselessly along one wall, and dipped of sight againbefore it reached the entrance to the place. Here she discovered alittle bowl, made out of small stones nicely fitted together, andallowing the water to pour over one edge and out at another with adelicious purling--such crystal clear water that one actually wanted towash in it even if it was cold, and even if one had the many sore placeson fingers and nose and behind the ears.
Behold! no sooner did one turn from the washing of hands and face thanthe table was miraculously spread upon the surface of a flat rock, withother stones nearby to serve as chairs; and on the table steamed "pone,"warmed over; coffee with milk in it--coffee, which was so strictlybanned at home!--potatoes sliced to transparent thinness and fried tocrisp brown at the edges, and a great slab of meat that fairly shoutedto the appetite.
So far so good, but the realization was a thousand fold better thananticipation. No cutting of one's own meat at this enchanted board!The shining knife of Daddy Dan divided it into delectable bits with thespeed of light, and it needed only the slightest amount of experimentingand cautious glances to discover that one could use a fork daggerwise,and when in doubt even seize upon a morsel with one's fingers and wipethe fingers afterwards on a bit of the dry grass. One could grasp thecup by both sides, scorning the silly handle, and if occasionally onesipped the coffee with a little noise--which added astonishingly to thetaste--there was no sharp warning, no frowning eye to overlook. Besides,at Munner's table, there was never time to pay attention to Joan, forthere was talk about vague, abstract things--the price of skins,the melting of the snows, the condition of the passes, the long andtroubling argument about the wicker chairs, with some remarkably foolishasides, now and then, concerning happiness and love--when all the timeany one with half an eye could see that the thing to do was to eatand eat and eat until that hollow place ceased to be. Talking cameafterwards.
In the house of Daddy Dan all these things were ordered as they shouldbe. Not a word was said; not a glance of criticism rested upon her; whenher tin plate was cleared she heard no reproofs for eating too greedily,but she was furnished anew from the store of good things on the rock.
In place of conversation, there were other matters to occupy the mindduring the meal. For presently she observed the beautiful head of Satanjust behind his master--Satan, who could pass over noisy gravel withthe softness of a cat, and now loomed out of the deeper night down thecavern. Inch by inch, with infinite caution and keenly pricked ears,the head lowered beside Dan, and the quivering, delicate muzzle stoletowards a fragment of the "pone." Joan watched breathlessly and then shesaw that in spite of the caution of that movement her father knew allabout it--just a glint of amusement in the corner of his eyes, just aslight twitch at the corners of his mouth to tell Joan that he was asdelighted as a boy playing a trick. Barely in time to save the morselof pone, he spoke and the head was dashed up. Yet Satan was not entirelydiscouraged. If he could not steal the bread he would beg for it. Itmade Joan pause in her destruction of the edibles, not to watch openly,for an instinct told her that the thing to do was to note these by-playsfrom the corner of one's eye, as Daddy Dan did, and swallow the ripplesof mirth that came tickling in the throat. She knew perfectly well thatSatan would have it in the end, for of all living things not even Munnerhad such power over Dan as the black stallion. He maneuvered adroitly.First he circled the table and stood opposite the master, begging withhis eyes, but Dan looked fixedly down at the rock until an impatientwhinny called up his eyes. Then he pretended the most absolute surprise.
"Why, Satan, you old scoundrel, what are you doin' over there? Get backwhere you belong?"
He gestured with a thumb over his shoulder and Satan glided around therock and stood once more behind Dan.
"Manners?" continued Dan. "You ain't got 'em. You'll be tryin' to sitdown at the table with me, pretty soon." He concluded: "But I'll teachyou one of these days, and you'll smart for a week."
Even at the mock menace Joan trembled a little, but to her astonishmentSatan paid not the slightest heed. Dan sat with his hat on hishead--which was a new and delightful event at the table--and now thestallion took the hat by the crown, dexterously, and raised it justan inch and put it back in place. Black Bart, having crept out of theshadows sat down near Joan with his long red tongue lolling out. Thisprocedure called a growl from him, but the master continued eatingwithout the slightest interest, apparently, in Satan's insolence.
A velvety muzzle appeared, with the chin resting on the shoulder of Danand the great, luminous eyes above. He whinnied so softly that it wasnot more than a human whisper, and meant almost as much.
"Oh," said Dan, in all seeming just roused to attention, "hungry, oldboy?"
He raised the morsel of "pone" between thumb and forefinger, holding ittightly. Then it was a joy to watch Satan. He tried to tug it all awayat once, but only a fragment broke off. He stamped in impatience,and then went to work to nibble the bread away on all sides of Dan'sfingers, very fine work for such broad, keen chisels as Satan's teeth,but he went about it with the skill of long practice, turning hishead this way and that and always watching the face of the master withsidewise eyes, one ear forward and one ear back. Finally the tightfingers opened out, and Satan gathered the last crumbs from the smoothpalm.
Two or three times during this performance Black Bart had half risenfrom his haunches and a growl swelled almost inaudibly in his throat,but now he stalked around the table and pushed his narrow head betweenDan's shoulder and the stallion. A snarl of incredible ferocity madeSatan turn, but without the slightest dread, apparently. For an instantthe two stood nose to nose, Black Bart a picture of snarling danger andSatan with curiously pricking ears and bright eyes. The growling rosetowards a crescendo, a terrible sound; then a lean hand shot out withthat speed which Joan could never comprehend--and which always madeher think, rather breathlessly, of the strike of a snake. The fingerssettled around the muzzle of Bart.
"Of all the no-good houn'-dogs," declared Dan, "you're the worst, andthe most jealousest. Lie down!"
Bart obeyed, slowly, but his evil eyes were fixed upwards upon the headof Satan.
"If you got any manners," remarked Dan, "you'll be sayin' that you'resorry."
The ears flattened along the snaky head; otherwise no answer.
"Sorry!" repeated the master.
Out of t
he deep throat of Black Bart, infinitely, ludicrously small,came a whine which was more doglike than anything Joan had ever heard,before, from the wolf.
"Now," continued the implacable master, "you go over in that corner, andlie down."
Black Bart arose with a finally ugly look for Satan and sneaked withhanging head and tail to the outer edge of the circle of light.
"Farther! Clear over there in the dark," came the order, and Bart hadto uncoil himself again in the very act of lying down and retreat withanother ominous growl clear into the darkness. Satan held his head highand watched triumphantly.
But Joan felt that this was a little hard on Bart; she wanted to runover and comfort him, but she knew from of old that it was dangerousto interfere where Daddy Dan was disciplining either horse or wolf;besides, she was not quite free from her new awe for Bart.
"All right," said the master presently, and without raising his voice.
It brought a dark thunder bolt rushing into the circle of the light andstopping at Dan's side with such suddenness that his paws slid inthe gravel. There he stood, actually wagging his bushy tail--anunprecedented outburst of joy for Bart!--and staring hungrily into theface of Dan. She saw a wonderful softening in the eyes of her father ashe looked at the great, dangerous beast.
"You ain't a bad sort," he said, "but you need puttin' in placecontinual."
Black Bart whined agreement.
After that, when the dishes were being cleared away and cleaned witha speed fully as marvelous as the preparation of the supper, Joanremembered with a guilty start the message which she should have givento Daddy Dan, and she brought out the paper, much rumpled.
He stood by the fire to read the letter.
"Dan come back to us. The house is empty and there's no sign of youexcept your clothes and the skins you left drying in the vacant room.Joan sits all day, mourning for you, and my heart is breaking. Oh, Dan,I don't grieve so much for what has been done, but I tremble for whatyou may do in the future."
With the letter still in his hand Dan walked thoughtfully to Satan andtook the fine head between his fingers.
"S'pose some gent was to drop you, Satan," he murmured. "S'pose he wasto plug you while you was doin' your best to take me where I want to go.S'pose he shot you not for anything you'd done but because of somethingagin me. And s'pose after killin' you he was to sneak up on me with alot of other gents and try to murder me before I had a chance to fightback. Satan, wouldn't I be right to trail 'em all--and kill 'em one byone? Wouldn't it?"
Joan heard very little of the words--only a soft murmur of anxiety, andshe saw that Daddy Dan was very thoughtful indeed. The stallion reachedfor the brim of Dan's hat--it was withdrawn from his reach--his headbowed, like a nod of assent.
"Why, even Satan can see I'm right," murmured Dan, and moving back tothe fire, he tore the letter into many pieces which fluttered down in awhite stream and made the blaze leap up.