VIII
The Indian Drum
"Oh, that hair of horse and skin of sheep should Have such power to move the souls of men."
"If you were real Injun you'd make a drum of that," said Caleb toYan, as they came to a Basswood blown over by a recent storm and nowshowing its weakness, for it was quite hollow--a mere shell.
"How do they do it? I want to know how."
"Get me the axe."
Yan ran for the axe. Caleb cut out a straight unbroken section abouttwo feet long. This they carried to camp.
"Coorse ye know," said Caleb, "ye can't have a drum without skins forheads."
"What kind of skins?"
"Oh, Horse, Dog, Cow, Calf--'most any kind that's strong enough."
"I got a Calfskin in our barn, an' I know where there's another in theshed, but it's all chawed up with Rats. Them's mine. I killed themCalves. Paw give me the skins for killin' an' skinnin' them. Oh, youjest ought to see me kill a Calf--"
Guy was going off into one of his autopanegyrics when Sam who was nowbeing rubbed on a sore place, gave a "Whoop!" and grabbed the tow-tuftwith a jerk that sent the Third War Chief sprawling and ended thepanegyric in the usual volley of "you-let-me-'lones."
"Oh, quit, Sam," objected Little Beaver. "You can't stop a Dogbarking. It's his nature." Then to Guy: "Never mind, Guy; you are nothurt. I'll bet you can beat him hunting Deer, and you can see twice asfar as he can."
"Yes, I kin; that's what makes him so mad. I'll bet I kin see threetimes as far--maybe five times," was the answer in injured tones.
"Go on now, Guy, and get the skins--that is, if you want a drum forthe war dance. You're the only one in the crowd that's man enough tomake the raise of a hide," and fired by this flattery, Guy sped away.
Meanwhile Caleb worked on the hollow log. He trimmed off the bark,then with the hatchet he cleared out all the punk and splintersinside. He made a fire on the ground in the middle of the drum-log asit stood on end, and watching carefully, he lifted it off from time totime and chopped away all the charred parts, smoothing and trimmingtill he had the log down thin and smooth within and without. Theyheard Guy shouting soon after he left. They thought him near at hand,but he did not come. Trimming the drum-log took a couple of hours, andstill Guy did not return. The remark from Caleb, "'Bout ready for theskins now!" called from Sam the explanation, "Guess Old Man Burnssnapped him up and put him to weeding the garden. Probably that washim we heard gettin' licked."
"Old Man Burns" was a poor and shiftless character, a thin,stoop-shouldered man. He was only thirty-five years of age, but, beingmarried, that was enough to secure for him the title "Old Man." InSanger, if Tom Nolan was a bachelor at eighty years of age he wouldstill be Tom Nolan, "wan of the bhoys," but if he married at twenty heat once became "Old Man Nolan."
Mrs. Burns had produced the usual string of tow-tops, but several haddied, the charitable neighbours said of starvation, leaving Guy, theeldest, his mother's darling, then a gap and four little girls, four,three, two and one years of age. She was a fat, fair, easy-goingperson, with a general sense of antagonism to her husband, who was,of course, the natural enemy of the children. Jim Burns cherished theideal of bringing "that boy" up right--that is, getting all the workhe could out of him--and Guy clung to his own ideal of doing as littlework as possible. In this clash of ideals Guy's mother was his firm,though more or less secret, ally. He was without fault in her eyes:all that he did was right. His freckled visage and pudgy face weretypes of noble beauty, standards of comeliness and human excellence;his ways were ways of pleasantness and all his paths were peace;Margat Burns was sure of it.
Burns had a good deal of natural affection, but he was erratic;sometimes he would flog Guy mercilessly for nothing, and again laughat some serious misdeed, so that the boy never knew just what toexpect, and kept on the safe side by avoiding his "Paw" as much aspossible. His visits to the camp had been thoroughly disapproved,partly because it was on Old Man Raften's land and partly because itenabled Guy to dodge the chores. Burns had been quite violent about itonce or twice, but Mrs. Burns had the great advantage of persistence,and like the steady strain of the skilful angler on the slender line,it wins in the end against the erratic violence of the strongesttrout. She had managed then that Guy should join the Injun camp, andgloried in his outrageously exaggerated accounts of how he could lickthem all at anything, "though they wuz so much older'n bigger'n hewuz."
But on this day he was fallen in hard luck. His father saw him coming,met him with a "gad" and lashed him furiously. Knowing perfectly wellthat the flogging would not stop till the proper effect was produced,and that was to be gauged by the racket, Guy yelled his loudest. Thiswas the uproar the boys had heard.
"Now, ye idle young scut! I'll larn ye to go round leaving bars down.You go an' tend to your work." So instead of hiking back gloriouslyladen with Calfskins, Guy was sent to ignominious and un-Injun toil inthe garden.
Soon he heard his mother: "Guysie, Guysie." He dropped his hoe andwalked to the kitchen.
"Where you goin'?" roared his father from afar. "Go back and mind yourwork."
"Maw wants me. She called me."
"You mind your work. Don't you dar' on your life to go thayer."
But Guy took no notice and walked on to his mother. He knew that atthis post-thrashing stage of wrath his father was mouthy and harmless,and soon he was happy eating a huge piece of bread and jam.
"Poor dear, you must be hungry, an' your Paw was so mean toyou. There, now, don't cry," for Guy began to weep again at therecollection of his wrongs. Then she whispered confidentially: "Paw'sgoing to Downey's this afternoon, an' you can slip away as soon ashe's gone, an' if you work well before that he won't be so awful madafter you come back. But be sure you don't let down the bars, coz ifthe pig was to get in Raften's woods dear knows what."
This was the reason of Guy's delay. He did not return to camp with theskins till late that day. As soon as he was gone, his foolish, dotingmother, already crushed with the burden of the house, left everythingand hoed two or three extra rows of cabbages, so "Paw" should find agreat showing of work when he came back.
The Calfskins were hard as tin and, of course, had the hair on.
Caleb remarked, "It'll take two or three days to get them right," andburied them in a marshy, muddy pool in the full sunlight. "The warmerthe better."
Three days later he took them out. Instead of being thin, hard,yellow, semi-transparent, they now were much thicker, densely white,and soft as silk. The hair was easily scraped off and the two pieceswere pronounced all right for drumheads.
Caleb washed them thoroughly in warm water, with soap to clear offthe grease, scraping them on both sides with a blunt knife; then hestraightened the outer edge of the largest, and cut a thin stripround and round it till he had some sixty feet of rawhide line, aboutthree-quarters of an inch wide. This he twisted, rolled and stretcheduntil it was nearly round, then he cut from the remainder a circularpiece thirty inches across, and a second from the "unchawed" part ofthe other skin. He laid these one on the other, and with the sharppoint of a knife he made a row of holes in both, one inch from theedge and two inches apart. Then he set one skin on the ground, thedrum-log on that and the other skin on the top, and bound themtogether with the long lace, running it from hole No. 1 on the topto No. 2 on the bottom, then to No. 3 on the top, and No. 4 on thebottom, and so on twice around, till every hole had a lace through itand the crossing laces made a diamond pattern all around. At firstthis was done loosely, but tightened up when once around, andfinally both the drum-heads were drawn tense. To the surprise of all,Guy promptly took possession of the finished drum. "Them's myCalfskins," which, of course, was true.
And Caleb said, with a twinkle in his eye, "The wood _seems_ togo with the skins."
A drumstick of wood, with a piece of sacking lashed on to soften it,was made, and Guy was disgusted to find how little sound the drum gaveout.
"'Bout like pounding a fur cap with a lamb's tail," Sam tho
ught.
"You hang that up in the shade to dry and you'll find a change," saidthe Trapper.
It was quite curious to note the effect of the drying as the hourswent by. The drum seemed to be wracking and straining itself inthe agony of effort, and slight noises came from it at times. Whenperfectly dry the semi-transparency of the rawhide came back, and thesound now was one to thrill the Red-man's heart.
Caleb taught them a little Indian war chant, and they danced roundto it as he drummed and sang, till their savage instincts seemed torevive. But above all it worked on Yan. As he pranced around in stephis whole nature seemed to respond; he felt himself a part of thatdance. It was in himself; it thrilled him through and through and senthis blood exulting. He would gladly have given up all the White-man's"glorious gains" to live with the feeling called up by that Indiandrum.