<h2><span>CHAPTER XXV</span> <span class="smaller">WE HAUNT THE WOODS</span></h2>
<p>It seemed to me only five minutes before I heard someone whistling,
"Early one morning and while the dew was shining," and there was my
young master brushed and dressed and biting deep into a huge slice of
bread and butter with yellow sugar on it, a dainty that the children
often got from Bingi.</p>
<p>"Come on, Pony Boy, my dearest joy," he said, giving me a generous piece
of his bread. "The quest is on."</p>
<p>I stepped out beside him. I shall never forget that particular early
morning. I had never before seen the lake so lovely.</p>
<p>My young master, too, was admiring it. "Isn't that water exquisite, my
Pony Prince?" he said. "Just like a dreamy big emerald set in a forest
of green. Upon my word, when I got down to it in my bathing suit it was
so beautiful that I could not go in. I turned back. I didn't feel I was
a good enough boy."</p>
<p>This pleased me very much. What fine feeling for a lad!</p>
<p>"Now, Prince Fetlar," he went on, "I'm sorry that on this first morning
of our search we have<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</SPAN></span> to turn our backs on the lake, but so it must be.
Mothers first, lakes second. Here we go up Deer Trail," and he sprang in
his own graceful way to my back.</p>
<p>He rode me until we got to the romantic sugaring-off place in a belt of
maple bush.</p>
<p>Then he jumped off, looked reflectively at the enormous black pot
hanging on the crane in the stone fire place and said, "Big Chief says I
must be sure to come here next spring when they tap the trees. I should
love to see the sap running. He has a hundred trees of his own and maple
syrup is going to be marketed at five dollars a gallon."</p>
<p>I was very much amused. My young master was getting to be quite a little
man of business.</p>
<p>Suddenly he turned to me, "What is sweeter than maple syrup, Fetlar?"</p>
<p>Of course I could do nothing but neigh excitedly, and he exclaimed,
"Mothers! Come on, let's find mine," and he dashed down a steep side
trail leading to the Merry Tongue River.</p>
<p>I followed him, picking my way carefully over soggy mats of dead leaves
and round by enormous rocks and fallen trees. Oh! the firewood going to
waste in this forest.</p>
<p>Something made me put my head down whenever we came to damp and marshy
ground. I didn't know why I did it, but Dallas exclaimed when he turned
round and saw me, "That's a Shetland trick. Your little ancestors used
to smell out, or perhaps I should say feel, the safe places when<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</SPAN></span> they
went to the peat bogs with the crofters to get fuel."</p>
<p>This was very interesting. How glad I was that my young master had
brains and that he had become such an expert young woodsman, for without
being able to see far ahead on account of the dense growth of trees he
just seemed to choose easily the best way to get round obstacles.</p>
<p>There was a trail here, but so faint that we kept losing it. Nothing
daunted the boy, and when he could not get on with two feet he fell on
his hands and, imitating me, scrambled over steep rock faces where he
would often pull up by the roots some young baby tree he was clinging
to.</p>
<p>As he fell backward or sideways his concern was more for the uprooted
thing than himself.</p>
<p>"I've killed it," he would say, "and it probably loves its home."</p>
<p>Then, if not too badly damaged, he would re-plant it, and by these
delays our progress was rather slow.</p>
<p>Just before we got to the brawling little river that my master loved
because it talked so sociably to its big brown stones as it dashed over
them, we came to Poor Dog's Pool, so named on account of a favourite
setter of the Devering children who had once fallen in there in a fit
and drowned.</p>
<p>"The setter is happy now," said Dallas as he looked thoughtfully into
the depths of the velvety pool set in its bed of ferns. "He will never
drown again, and he is waiting for the children."</p>
<p>Then he repeated to me in his sweet ringing<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</SPAN></span> voice a favourite poem of
his cousins' written by a young Irish-Canadian friend of theirs called
Norah Holland.<SPAN name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</SPAN></p>
<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<div>"High up in the courts of Heaven to-day,</div>
<div class="i1">A little dog-angel waits.</div>
<div>With the other angels he will not play,</div>
<div class="i1">But he sits alone at the gates;</div>
<div>'For I know that my master will come,' says he,</div>
<div class="i1">'And when he comes, he will call for me.'</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div>"He sees the spirits that pass him by,</div>
<div class="i1">As they hasten towards the throne.</div>
<div>And he watches them with a wistful eye,</div>
<div class="i1">As he sits by the gates alone;</div>
<div>'But I know if I just wait patiently,</div>
<div class="i1">That some day my master will come,' says he.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div>"And his master, far on the earth below,</div>
<div class="i1">As he sits in his easy chair,</div>
<div>Forgets sometimes, and he whistles low,</div>
<div class="i1">For the dog that is not there;</div>
<div>And the little dog-angel cocks his ears,</div>
<div class="i1">And dreams that his master's call he hears.</div>
</div><div class="stanza">
<div>"And I know when at length his master waits</div>
<div class="i1">Outside in the dark and cold,</div>
<div>For the hand of death to open the gates,</div>
<div class="i1">That lead to those courts of gold,</div>
<div>The little dog-angel's eager bark,</div>
<div class="i1">Will comfort his soul in the shivering dark."</div>
</div></div>
</div>
<p>When he finished the poem, I rubbed affectionately against the dark blue
figure standing so straight and handsome in the depths of this green
wood. With a boy's extravagance he had put on<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</SPAN></span> his very best suit of
clothes to come and look for his mother, and a sad mess it was in.</p>
<p>I was pleased that he had taken the trouble to recite to me, and he knew
it, but in the midst of a remark to me he began to yawn sleepily.</p>
<p>"Prince Fetlar," he said, "I'm going to have forty winks. I scarcely
slept a bit last night," and he stepped back among the old pines that
had watched the pool and its dark doings for many a year.</p>
<p>It was said to be bottomless, and when my master lay down to sleep he
chose a nice fragrant bed of pine needles at the foot of a moss-grown
boulder and at a safe distance from the treacherous waters of the pool.</p>
<p>"Watch a few minutes, Prince," he said, "it will only be a cat nap."</p>
<p>"Bless him," I said to myself, "he's safe for a couple of hours," and I,
not feeling at all sleepy, placed myself in a bed of brakes behind him
and stood stock still planning to see what I could see.</p>
<p>As long as we had been moving we saw nothing but the still life of the
woods. The breaking of branches and the sound of my master's voice had
kept every shy wild thing from us. They were not afraid that we would
kill them, for Mr. Devering and the Good American allowed no shooting on
their timber limits. They were just naturally averse to the near
presence of human beings, but I knew they were all peeping at us as we
went by.</p>
<p>As soon as my young master fell asleep some timid wood birds who haunted
this pool began to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</SPAN></span> talk to each other about the abundance of food this
year and the easiness of the task of bringing up young ones.</p>
<p>Then a funny young Canadian bear came by, pad-padding along and stopping
a few feet from me to sit down and leisurely scratch his ear. However,
he caught our odour and away he went, he, too, looking for home and
mother.</p>
<p>While I stood thinking what a lovely and pleasant thing it was that my
young master and I, too, had no fear of these wild creatures about us
now that we knew there was not one of them that would do us harm, I bent
my head to rub off some little ants that were wandering about my
fetlocks. There, almost nestling against my pastern, was a hen
partridge, or perhaps I should say grouse.</p>
<p>She looked up at me with a bright and trusting eye, but decided she had
better move along now that she was discovered. However, she made no
haste about it and reminded me of some tame partridges in Maine whose
backs a master I had then used to tickle with his fishing rod.</p>
<p>"Oh! how wild things would love man if he would not hunt them," and just
as I was saying this to myself I lifted up my eyes and there at a little
distance stood a beautiful white ghost among the pines.</p>
<p>"Good morning, comely one," I said when the White Phantom came
gracefully near. "Pardon me for not going to meet you. My master sleeps
and I am on guard."</p>
<p>"I know it," she said prettily. "A little <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</SPAN></span>chickadee told me. If he had
been awake I would not have come near."</p>
<p>"But he never hurts anything," I said.</p>
<p>"I know that, but I seek no human beings except my two loved masters. I
have seen quite nice boys and men jump at wild things even when they did
not shoot. They like to see us run."</p>
<p>"They do not know what timid hearts you wild things have," I said
consolingly.</p>
<p>"You creatures called domestic know nothing of the fears of untamed
creatures," she said. "Our lives are one long misery if thoughtless
human beings control us."</p>
<p>"That is very sad," I replied.</p>
<p>"But not too sad," she went on, "for the Good Highlander tells us that
we have another life, and such a long one that this life is only a dream
compared with it. In that other life we shall be perfectly happy, for no
one will hunt us."</p>
<p>"So you, too, know the Good Highlander," I exclaimed joyfully.</p>
<p>"Quite well, and he is so clear to me that the other animals tell me I
must soon be going to join his band of happy creatures."</p>
<p>"What do you mean by that?" I asked.</p>
<p>"That all the animals that ever lived in these woods are here still,
though we do not see them."</p>
<p>"Can that be possible! Is this wonderful forest to be your deer heaven,
lovely doe?"</p>
<p>"I hope so. I should like to keep near my masters and I feel that I
will, for that wolf cub with<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</SPAN></span> the Highlander is one who once lived back
of the mountain."</p>
<p>"You recognise him?"</p>
<p>"Yes, for he hunted me cruelly. He was with his mother, the fiercest old
wolf witch of this district. It was one day on the ice. I was crossing
the lake to go home. Something told me they were coming. I was as fleet
as the wind in those days, but they swept close to me, one on each side.
I felt their hot breath——"</p>
<p>She paused an instant and I shuddered. I could see her in my mind's eye
bounding up the frozen lake in her graceful manner, her heart pounding,
her strength failing, the two fierce creatures about to leap on her and
tear her to pieces.</p>
<p>"Do you know," she said quietly, "that just when I was about to sink to
the ice something very strange happened."</p>
<p>"What was it?" I asked eagerly.</p>
<p>"It was the first time I saw the Highlander," she replied, "and then he
was only the faintest mistiest shape to me, but he was there. He floated
by me and the wolves fell dead."</p>
<p>"Had he killed them?" I asked.</p>
<p>"I do not know. My master suddenly appeared skating round the bend of
the river, his gun on his shoulder. The Highlander was not there when he
arrived and my master bent over the wolves' bodies, then lifted his
puzzled face to me as I struggled toward home at a little distance from
them."</p>
<p>"'But it is astonishing!' he said. Then later he<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</SPAN></span> skinned the wolves,
but that young one who is with the Good Highlander when he haunts these
woods is the wicked cub who hunted me with his mother."</p>
<p>"But he is a good cub now," I said.</p>
<p>"He has a heart of gold," she replied. "I have seen him beside a dying
fawn."</p>
<p>"I'm puzzled," I said. "Wolves have to get their living in this world.
Yet we blame them for killing creatures who wish to live. However,
there's one thing sure, lovely Phantom—when we animals die many things
will be explained that we do not understand now."</p>
<p>"Sometimes when I am very frightened I wish to go to the Good Highlander
and live that life where I shall be as bold as a wolf," she replied
dreamily, "and that reminds me—I have sought you out to-day to thank
you for what you did that afternoon the poachers shot me."</p>
<p>"Oh! Phantom," I said, "I could not bear to see you die."</p>
<p>"I was quite willing," she said dreamily. "I seemed to be drifting into
a safe, soft black forest, but when you said my masters would be grieved
I gladly came back."</p>
<p>"And you, dear one," I said, "be careful. Do not roam far from home in
future. You court danger when you do so."</p>
<p>"I know it," she said, lowering her snowy head among the pines to touch
something at her feet, "but I have a guard now."</p>
<p>"Who is it?" I asked.</p>
<p>"The good Ravaud, the warden's hound. Our<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</SPAN></span> master has told him to
accompany me wherever I go. He is getting another dog to go on
government trips."</p>
<p>"Hello! old fellow," I said, "come out here and speak to me. You were
very short the first day I saw you."</p>
<p>The long-eared hound came out from behind the doe, curling his lip in a
dog smile.</p>
<p>"Duty first, Pony friend," he said. "That doe has been a sister to me.
How could I speak to a stranger when I thought she lay dying?"</p>
<p>"You were quite right," I said. "Now you just keep your eye on her, for
she doesn't seem to mind a bit the idea of stepping out of this old
world, which is after all a pleasant place."</p>
<p>"Right you are," said Ravaud in his deep hollow voice, and he looked at
her anxiously. Then he added, "She has quite a good appetite."</p>
<p>I burst out laughing. I could not help it and the offended doe turned to
leave me.</p>
<p>"Beautiful one," I said, "I am delighted to hear that your appetite
matches your perfect body, and now before you go please let me say
something to you."</p>
<p>"Certainly, Pony friend," she replied, turning her mild eyes on me.</p>
<p>"It is about something a toad told me," I said, "old Hoppy Go-Slow. I
suppose you don't know him."</p>
<p>"I don't care for reptiles," she said a little ungraciously, "nor any
creature who can live either on land or in the water. They seem
unnatural to<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</SPAN></span> me, and I have no acquaintances among them."</p>
<p>"Now, graceful one," I said cautiously and admiringly, "I see you are
sensitive, but please do not be offended with me. I just wish to ask you
why you jump on snakes and destroy them."</p>
<p>She shuddered. "I can not tell. I hate them. Do you think I am wrong?"</p>
<p>"Snakes do much good to the farmer," I said. "Don't you know that they
eat insect pests that are injurious to plant life?"</p>
<p>"I have heard that," she replied carelessly. "It did not impress me."</p>
<p>"A snake loves to live," I went on. "Why kill him?"</p>
<p>"Do they suffer?" she asked in a horrified tone. "Do they feel as I do
when the hunters drive me through the bush?"</p>
<p>"Probably they do not suffer as much as you do, for you kill quickly,
but they do suffer and flee from you, for they have complained to the
toads about you."</p>
<p>"I have always stamped on them," she said. "I have cut them to pieces
with the sharp hoofs of my fore-feet, little Pony. It did not take
long."</p>
<p>"Ah! well, lovely one, in future leave in peace all the harmless green
and brown gliding things. Kill only rattlesnakes."</p>
<p>"I will kill none at all," she said with sudden heat. "I see that life
is sweet even to snakes."</p>
<p>I was about to tell her that it is necessary sometimes to kill quickly
and mercifully lest we should have too much animal life on the earth,
then I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</SPAN></span> thought I would only mix her up, so I forbore.</p>
<p>"Before I go, Pony Prince," she said, "I must tell you that your boy's
mother is in the wood."</p>
<p>"Is she?" I said eagerly. "What is she like?"</p>
<p>The White Phantom spoke in a mysterious voice. "She is slender and
youthful looking. Her dress is the color of green leaves and she has a
veil wound round her head. Alas! she is beautiful."</p>
<p>"Why alas!" I asked.</p>
<p>"Because all things beautiful are hunted. They have no peace. I wish I
had been born very, very ugly and warty like a toad. It is fatiguing to
be so sought after."</p>
<p>"I never thought of that before," I said, "but I suppose it is true.
Where is the boy's mother now?"</p>
<p>"Down by the river, but she is coming this way. She is slipping behind
the tree trunks. She is hoping to see her son before he sees her."</p>
<p>"I dread the shock for him," I said, anxiously gazing toward the
sleeping boy.</p>
<p>"The shock will not hurt him, Prince Pony, for it will be all joy. Her
shock will be partly pain."</p>
<p>"But, but," I stammered, "she is his mother—he is her son."</p>
<p>"They have lived apart, Pony. She allowed her old aunt to coax her away
from her boy."</p>
<p>"How do you know all this?" I asked wonderingly.</p>
<p>"Creatures of the wildwood are not shut off from knowledge of human
beings. Birds of the air carry news, and do I not go into the house and
eat<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</SPAN></span> bread from my master's table? Then your boy's uncle loves my master
and often they sit by the river for hours talking of things that are in
their minds while I am hidden in the willows nearby."</p>
<p>"I didn't think the warden was a talker," I said.</p>
<p>"Dentais does not talk to the world, but only to his friend Mr.
Devering, who once saved his life in a bad storm on a distant lake."</p>
<p>"Stop one instant," I said. "Is the beautiful lady staying with the Good
Americans?"</p>
<p>"Yes—she is a child of the forest like her brother. They met last night
in the shack by the river and he told her of her boy. She is weary of
cities where she lost her lovely voice."</p>
<p>"Is her voice gone?" I asked in dismay.</p>
<p>"Yes, the cruel war hunted her as the poachers hunted me. She wore her
life out over the wounded and her voice was frightened away. Then she
ran to her husband."</p>
<p>"White Phantom!" I exclaimed, "what are you telling me? Is the boy's
father also in this wood?"</p>
<p>"Husband and wife are always together now," said the doe gently. "She
would be afraid without him. Now she is coming—the beautiful lady.
Don't you hear the trees whispering? They are pleased that her gown is
the same color as theirs, and they call her the Green Lady. Take good
care of yourself, Pony friend, and run often round the lake to see me.
For your sake I will kill no more snakes," and she glided away
accompanied by a faint rustling that meant the close following of the
faithful hound Ravaud.</p>
<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3>
<div class="footnote"><p><SPAN name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></SPAN> Quoted by permission of the publishers, J. M. Dent & Sons,
Toronto.</p>
</div>
</div>
<hr />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</SPAN></span></p>
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