Chapter VI. The Voice of the Woods

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　To study now was the hardest task that Henry had ever undertaken.It was even easier to find food when he and Paul were unarmed anddestitute in the forest. The walls of the little log house inwhich he sat inclosed him like a cell, the air was heavy and thespace seemed to grow narrower and narrower. Then just when thetask was growing intolerable he would look across the room andseeing the studious face of Paul bent over the big text of anancient history, he would apply himself anew to his labor whichconsisted chiefly of "figures," a bit of the world's geography,and a little look into the history of England.

　　Mr. Pennypacker would neither praise nor blame, but often whenthe boy did not notice he looked critically at Henry. "I don'tthink your son will be a great scholar," he said once to Mr.Ware," but he will be a Nimrod, a mighty hunter before men, and aleader in action. It's as well, for his is the kind that will beneeded most and for a long time in this wilderness, and backthere in the old lands, too."

　　"It is so," replied Mr. Ware, "the clouds do gather."

　　Involuntarily he looked toward the east, and Mr. Pennypacker'seyes followed him. But both remained silent upon that portion oftheir thoughts.

　　"Moreover I tell you for your comfort that the lad has a sense ofduty," added the teacher.

　　Henry shot a magnificent stag with great antlers a few dayslater, and mounting the head he presented it to Mr. Pennypacker.But on the following day the master looked very grave and Henryand Paul tried to guess the cause. Henry heard that Ross hadarrived the night before from the nearest settlement a hundredmiles away, but had stayed only an hour, going to their secondnearest neighbor distant one hundred and fifty miles. He broughtnews of some kind which only Mr. Ware, Mr. Upton, the teacher andthree or four others knew. These were not ready to speak andPaul and Henry were well aware that nothing on earth could makethem do so until they thought the time was fit.

　　It was a long, long morning. Henry had before him a map of theEmpire of Muscovy but he saw little there. Instead there camebetween him and the page a vision of the beaver dam and the poolabove it, now covered with a sheet of ice, and of the salt springwhere the deer came to drink, and of a sheltered valley in whicha herd of elk rested every night.

　　Mr. Pennypacker was singularly quiet that morning. It was hiscustom to call up his pupils and make them recite in a loudvoice, but the hours passed and there were no recitations. Theteacher seemed to be looking far away at something outside theschoolroom, and his thoughts followed his eyes. Henry by and bylet his own roam as they would and he was in dreamland, when hewas aroused by a sharp smack of the teacher's homemade ruler uponhis homemade desk.

　　But the blow was not aimed at Henry or anybody in particular. Itwas an announcement to all the world in general that Mr.Pennypacker was about to speak on a matter of importance. Henryand Paul guessed at once that it would be about the news broughtby Ross.

　　Mr. Pennypacker's face grew graver than ever as he spoke. Hetold them that when they left the east there was great troublebetween the colonies and the mother country. They had hoped thatit would pass away, but now, for the first time in many months,news had come across the mountains from their old home, and hadentered the great forest. The troubles were not gone. On thecontrary they, had become worse. There had been fighting, abattle in which many had been killed, and a great war was begun.The colonies would all stand together, and no man could tell whatthe times would bring forth.

　　This was indeed weighty news. Though divided from their brethrenin the east by hundreds of miles of mountain and forest thepatriotism of the settlers in the wilderness burned with a glowall the brighter on that account. More than one young heart inthat rude room glowed with a desire to be beside their countrymenin the far-off east, rifle in hand.

　　But Mr. Pennypacker spoke again. He said that there was now agreater duty upon them to hold the west for the union of thecolonies. Their task was not merely to build homes forthemselves, but to win the land that it might be homes forothers. There were rumors that the savages would be used againstthem, that they might come down in force from the north, andtherefore it was the part of everyone, whether man, woman orchild to redouble his vigilance and caution. Then he adjournedschool for the day.

　　The boys drew apart from their elders and discussed the greatnews. Henry's blood was on fire. The message from that littleMassachusetts town, thrilled him as nothing in his life had donebefore. He had a vague idea of going there, and of doing what heconsidered his part, and he spoke to Paul about it, but Paulthought otherwise.

　　"Why, Henry!" he said. "We may have to defend ourselves here andwe'll need you."

　　The people of Wareville knew little about the causes of the warand after this one message brought by Ross they heard no more ofits progress. They might be fighting great battles away offthere on the Atlantic coast, but no news came through the wall ofwoods. Wareville itself was peaceful, and around it curved themighty forest which told nothing.

　　Mountains and forest alike lay under deep snow, and it was notlikely that they would hear anything further until spring,because the winter was unusually cold and a man who ventured nowon a long journey was braver than his fellows.

　　The new Kentuckians were glad that they had provided so well forwinter. All the cupboards were full and there was no need forthem now to roam the cold forests in search of game. They builtthe fires higher and watched the flames roar up the chimneys,while the little children rolled on the floor and grasped at theshadows.

　　Though but a bit of mankind hemmed in by the vast and frozenwilderness theirs was not an unhappy life by any means. The menand boys, though now sparing their powder and ball, still settraps for game and were not without reward. Often they found elkand deer, and once or twice a buffalo floundering in the deepsnowdrifts, and these they added to the winter larder. Theybroke holes in the ice on the river and caught fish in abundance.They worked, too, about the houses, making more tables andbenches and chairs and shelves and adding to their bodilycomforts.

　　The great snow lasted about a month and then began to break upwith a heavy rain which melted all the ice, but which could notcarry away all the snow. The river rose rapidly and overflowedits banks but Wareville was safe, built high on the hill wherefloods could not reach. Warm winds followed the rain and themelting snow turned great portions of the forest into lakes. Thetrees stood in water a yard deep, and the aspect of thewilderness was gloomy and desolate. Even the most resolute ofthe hunters let the game alone at such a time. Often the warmwinds would cease to blow when night came and then the greatlagoons would be covered with a thin skim of ice which meltedagain the next day under the winds and the sun. All this broughtchills and fever to Wareville and bitter herbs were sought fortheir cure. But the strong frame of Henry was impervious to theattacks and he still made daily journeys to his traps in the wetand steaming wilderness.

　　Henry was now reconciled to the schoolroom. It was to be hislast term there and he realized with a sudden regret that it wasalmost at its end. He was beginning to feel the sense ofresponsibility, that he was in fact one of the units that mustmake up the state.

　　Despite these new ideas a sudden great longing lay hold of him.The winds from the south were growing warmer and warmer, all thesnow and ice was gone long ago, faint touches of green and pinkwere appearing on grass and foliage and the young buds wereswelling. Henry heard the whisper of these winds and every oneof them called to him. He knew that he was wanted out there inthe woods. He began to hate the sight of human faces, he wishedto go alone into the wilderness, to see the deer steal among thetrees and to hear the beaver dive into the deep waters. He felthimself a part of nature and he would breathe and live as naturedid.

　　He grew lax in his tasks; he dragged his feet and there were eventimes when he was not hungry. When his mother noticed the lattercircumstance she knew surely that the boy was ill, but herhusband shrewdly said:

　　"Henry, the spring has come; take your rifle and bring us somefresh venison."

　　So Henry shouldered his rifle and went forth alone upon thequest, even leaving behind Paul, his chosen comrade. He did notwish human companionship that day, nor did he stop until he wasdeep in the wilderness. How he felt then the glory of living!The blood was flushing in his veins as the sap was rising in thetrees around him. The world was coming forth from its torpor ofwinter refreshed and strengthened. He saw all about him thesigns of new life-the tender young grass in shades of delicategreen, the opening buds on the trees, and a subtle perfume thatcame on the edge of the Southern wind. Beyond him the wildturkeys on the hill were calling to each other.

　　He stood there a long time breathing the fresh breath of this newworld, and the old desire to wander through illimitable forestsand float silently down unknown rivers came over him. He wouldnot feel the need of companionship on long wanderings. Naturewould then be sufficient, talking to him in many tongues.

　　The wind heavy, with perfumes of the South, came over the hilland on its crest the wild turkeys were still clucking to eachother. Henry, through sheer energy and rush of life, ran up theslope, and watched them as they took flight through the trees,their brilliant plumage gleaming in the sunshine.

　　It was the highest hill near Wareville and he stood a while uponits crest. The wilderness here circled around him, and, in thedistance, it blended into one mass, already showing a pervadingnote of green with faint touches of pink bloom appearing here andthere. The whole of it was still and peaceful with no sign ofhuman life save a rising spire of smoke behind him that toldwhere Wareville stood.

　　He walked on. Rabbits sprang out of the grass beside him andraced away into the thickets. Birds in plumage of scarlet andblue and gold shot like a flame from tree to tree. The forest,too, was filled with the melody of their voices, but Henry tookno notice.

　　He paused a while at the edge of a brook to watch the silversunfish play in the shallows, then he leaped the stream and wenton into the deeper woods, a tall, lithe, strong figure, his eyesgazing at no one thing, the long slender-barreled rifle lyingforgotten across his shoulder.

　　A great stag sprang up from the forest and stood for a fewmoments, gazing at him with expanding and startled eyes. Henrystanding quite still returned the look, seeking to read theexpression in the eyes of the deer.

　　Thus they confronted each other a half minute and then the stagturning fled through the woods. There was no undergrowth, andHenry for a long time watched the form of the deer fleeing downthe rows of trees, as it became smaller and smaller and thendisappeared.

　　All the forest glowed red in the setting sun when he returnedhome.

　　"Where is the deer?" asked his father.

　　"Why-why I forgot it!" said Henry in confused reply.

　　Mr. Ware merely smiled.