XXXI
On the Old Camp Ground
It was threatening to rain again in the morning and the Indiansexpected to tramp home heavy laden in the wet. But their Medicine Manhad a surprise in store. "I found an old friend not far from here andfixed it up with him to take us all home in his wagon." They walkedout to the edge of the rough land and found a farm wagon with twohorses and a driver. They got in, and in little less than a hour weresafely back to the dear old camp by the pond.
The rain was over now, and as Caleb left for his own home he said:
"Say, boys, how about that election for Head Chief? I reckon it's duenow. Suppose you wait till to-morrow afternoon at four o'clock an'I'll show you how to do it."
That night Yan and his friend were alone in their teepee. His arm wasbound up, and proud he was of those bandages and delighted with thetrifling red spots that appeared yet on the last layer; but he was notin pain, nor, indeed, the worse for the adventure, for, thanks to histhick shirt, there was no poisoning. He slept as usual till long aftermidnight, then awoke in bed with a peculiar feeling of well-being andclearness of mind. He had no bodily sense; he seemed floating alone,not in the teepee nor in the woods, but in the world--not dreaming,but wide awake--more awake than ever in his life before, for all hislife came clearly into view as never before: his stern, religioustraining; his father, refined and well-meaning, but blind, compellinghim to embark in a profession to which he was little inclined, and togive up the one thing next his heart--his Woodcraft lore.
Then Raften stepped into view, loud-voiced, externally coarse, butblessed with a good heart and a sound head. The farmer suffered sadlyin contrast with the father, and yet Yan had to suppress the wish thatRaften were his father. What had they in common? Nothing; and yetRaften had given him two of the dearest things in life. He, thehead of the house, a man of force and success, had treated Yan withrespect. Yan was enough like his own father to glory in the unwontedtaste; and like that other rugged stranger long ago in Glenyan, Raftenhad also given him sympathy. Instead of considering his Woodcraftpursuits mere trifling, the farmer had furthered them, and even joinedto follow for a time. The thought of Bonnerton came back. Yan knew hemust return in a year at most; he knew that his dearest ambition of acollege course in zoology was never to be realized, for his fatherhad told him he must go as errand boy at the first opening. Again hisrebellious spirit was stirred, to what purpose he did not know. Hewould rather stay here on the farm with the Raftens. But his earlyScriptural training was not without effect. "Honour thy father andthy mother" was of lasting force. He felt it to be a binding duty. Hecould not rebel if he would. No, he would obey; and in that resolutionnew light came. In taking him from college and sending him to the farmhis father had apparently cut off his hope of studies next his heart.Instead of suffering loss by this obedience, he had come to thelargest opportunity of his life.
Yes! He would go back--be errand boy or anything to make a living, butin his hours of freedom he would keep a little kingdom of his own. Theroad to it might lie through the cellar of a grocer's shop, but hewould not flinch. He would strive and struggle as a naturalist. Whenhe had won the insight he was seeking, the position he sought wouldfollow, for every event in the woodland life had shown him--had shownthem all, that his was the kingdom of the Birds and Beasts and thepower to comprehend them.
And he seemed to float, happy in the fading of all doubt, glad inthe sense of victory. There was a noise outside. The teepee door wasforced gently; a large animal entered. At another time Yan mighthave been alarmed, but the uplift of his vision was on him still. Hewatched it with curious unalarm. It gently came to his bed, licked hishand and laid down beside him. It was old Turk, and this was the firsttime he had heeded any of them but Caleb.
Old Turk]