I
Glimmerings
Yan was much like other twelve-year-old boys in having a keen interestin Indians and in wild life, but he differed from most in this, thathe never got over it. Indeed, as he grew older, he found a yet keenerpleasure in storing up the little bits of woodcraft and Indian lorethat pleased him as a boy.
His father was in poor circumstances. He was an upright man of refinedtastes, but indolent--a failure in business, easy with the world andstern with his family. He had never taken an interest in his son'swildwood pursuits; and when he got the idea that they might interferewith the boy's education, he forbade them altogether.
There was certainly no reason to accuse Yan of neglecting school. Hewas the head boy of his class, although there were many in it olderthan himself. He was fond of books in general, but those that dealtwith Natural Science and Indian craft were very close to his heart.Not that he had many--there were very few in those days, and thePublic Library had but a poor representation of these. "Lloyd'sScandinavian Sports," "Gray's Botany" and one or two Fenimore Coopernovels, these were all, and Yan was devoted to them. He was a timid,obedient boy in most things, but the unwise command to give up whatwas his nature merely made him a disobedient boy--turned a good boyinto a bad one. He was too much in terror of his father to disobeyopenly, but he used to sneak away at all opportunities to the fieldsand woods, and at each new bird or plant he found he had an exquisitethrill of mingled pleasure and pain--the pain because he had no namefor it or means of learning its nature.
The intense interest in animals was his master passion, and thanks tothis, his course to and from school was a very crooked one, involvingmany crossings of the street, because thereby he could pass first asaloon in whose window was a champagne advertising chromo thatportrayed two Terriers chasing a Rat; next, directly opposite this,was a tobacconist's, in the window of which was a beautiful effigy ofan Elephant, laden with tobacco. By going a little farther out of hisway, there was a game store where he might see some Ducks, and wassure, at least, of a stuffed Deer's head; and beyond that was afurrier shop, with an astonishing stuffed Bear. At another point hecould see a livery stable Dog that was said to have killed a Coon, andat yet another place on Jervie Street was a cottage with a highveranda, under which, he was told, a chained Bear had once been kept.He never saw the Bear. It had been gone for years, but he foundpleasure in passing the place. At the corner of Pemberton and Grandstreets, according to a schoolboy tradition, a Skunk had been killedyears ago and could still be smelled on damp nights. He alwaysstopped, if passing near on a wet night, and sniffed and enjoyed thatSkunk smell. The fact that it ultimately turned out to be a leakage ofsewer gas could never rob him of the pleasure he originally found init.
"Gazing spellbound in that window"]
Yan had no good excuse for these weaknesses, and he blushed for shamewhen his elder brother talked "common sense" to him about his follies.He only knew that such things fascinated him.
But the crowning glory was a taxidermist's shop kept on Main Street bya man named Sander. Yan spent, all told, many weeks gazing spellbound,with his nose flat white against that window. It contained some Foxand Cat heads grinning ferociously, and about fifty birds beautifullydisplayed. Nature might have got some valuable hints in that windowon showing plumage to the very best advantage. Each bird seemed morewonderful than the last.
There were perhaps fifty of them on view, and of these, twelve hadlabels, as they had formed part of an exhibit at the Annual CountyFair. These labels were precious truths to him, and the birds:
Osprey Partridge or Ruffed GrouseKingfisher BitternBluejay HighholderRosebreasted Grosbeak Sawwhet OwlWoodthrush OrioleScarlet Tanager * * * * * * *
were, with their names, deeply impressed on his memory and added tohis woodlore, though not altogether without a mixture of error. Forthe alleged Woodthrush was not a Woodthrush at all, but turned outto be a Hermit Thrush. The last bird of the list was a long-tailed,brownish bird with white breast. The label was placed so that Yancould not read it from outside, and one of his daily occupations wasto see if the label had been turned so that he could read it. But itnever was, so he never learned the bird's name.
After passing this for a year or more, he formed a desperate plan. Itwas nothing less than to _go inside_. It took him some months toscrew up courage, for he was shy and timid, but oh! he was so hungryfor it. Most likely if he had gone in openly and asked leave, hewould have been allowed to see everything; but he dared not. His hometraining was all of the crushing kind. He picked on the most curiousof the small birds in the window--a Sawwhet Owl then grit his teethand walked in. How frightfully the cowbell on the door did clang! Thenthere succeeded a still more appalling silence, then a step and thegreat man himself came.
"How--how--how much is that Owl?"
"Two dollars."
Yan's courage broke down now. He fled. If he had been told ten cents,it would have been utterly beyond reach. He scarcely heard what theman said. He hurried out with a vague feeling that he had been inheaven but was not good enough to stay there. He saw nothing of thewonderful things around him.