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easterly winds。
〃There was no dew last night。 I saw Tongue Mountain at daybreak；
my tom…tom will not sing。
〃The smoke went three ways at dawn； and Skookum's nose was hot。〃
So they rested； not knowing； but forced to believe； and it was
not till the third day that the sky broke； the west wind began to
pay back its borrowings from the east； and the saying was proved
that 〃three days' rain will empty any sky。〃
That evening； after their meal； Rolf and Van launched the canoe
and paddled down the lake。 A mile from camp they landed； for this
was a favourite deer run。 Very soon Rolf pointed to the ground。
He had found a perfectly fresh track； but Van seemed not to
comprehend。 They went along it； Rolf softly and silently； Van
with his long feet and legs making a dangerous amount of clatter。
Rolf turned and whispered； 〃That won't do。 You must not stand on
dry sticks。〃 Van endeavoured to move more cautiously and thought
he was doing well； but Rolf found it very trying to his patience
and began to understand how Quonab had felt about himself a year
ago。 〃See；〃 said Rolf； 〃lift your legs so； don't turn your feet
out that way。 Look at the place before you put it down again；
feel with your toe to make sure there is no dead stick； then
wriggle it down to the solid ground。 Of course； you'd do better
in moccasins。 Never brush past any branches； lift them aside and
don't let them scratch； ease them back to the place； never try to
bend a dry branch； go around it；〃 etc。 Van had not thought of
these things； but now he grasped them quickly； and they made a
wonderful improvement in his way of going。
They came again to the water's edge； across a little bay Rolf
sighted at once the form of a buck； perfectly still； gazing their
way； wondering； no doubt； what made those noises。
〃Here's your chance；〃 he whispered。
〃Where？〃 was the eager query。
〃There； see that gray and white thing？〃
〃I can't see him。〃
For five minutes Rolf tried in vain to make his friend see that
statuesque form； for five minutes it never moved。 Then； sensing
danger； the buck gave a bound and was lost to view。
It was disheartening。 Rolf sat down； nearly disgusted； then one
of Sylvanne's remarks came to him： 〃It don't prove any one a
fool； coz he can't play your game。〃
Presently Rolf said； 〃Van； hev ye a book with ye？〃
〃Yes； I have my Virgil。〃
〃Read me the first page。〃
Van read it； holding the book six inches from his nose。
〃Let's see ye read this page there；〃 and Rolf held it up four
feet away。
〃I can't； it's nothing but a dim white spot。〃
〃Well； can ye see that loon out there？〃
〃You mean that long； dark thing in the bay？ 〃
〃No； that's a pine log close to；〃 said Rolf； with a laugh； 〃away
out half a mile。〃
〃No； I can't see anything but shimmers。〃
〃I thought so。 It's no use your trying to shoot deer till ye get
a pair of specs to fit yer eyes。 You have brains enough； but you
haven't got the eyesight of a hunter。 You stay here till I go see
if I have any luck。〃
Rolf melted into the woods。 In twenty minutes Van heard a shot
and very soon Rolf reappeared； carrying a two…year… old buck； and
they returned to their camp by nightfall。 Quonab glanced at their
faces as they passed carrying the little buck。 They tried to look
inscrutable。 But the Indian was not deceived。 He gave out nothing
but a sizzling 〃 Humph！〃
Chapter 63。 The Redemption of Van
WHEN things is looking black as black can be； it's a sure sign of
luck coming your way。〃 so said Si Sylvanne； and so it proved to
Van Cortlandt The Moon of the Falling Leaves was waning； October
was nearly over； the day of his return to Albany was near； as he
was to go out in time for the hunters to return in open water。 He
was wonderfully improved in strength and looks。 His face was
brown and ruddy。 He had abandoned all drugs； and had gained fully
twenty pounds in weight。 He had learned to make a fire； paddle a
canoe； and go through the woods in semi…silence。 His scholarly
talk had given him large place in Rolf's esteem； and his sweet
singing had furnished a tiny little shelf for a modicum of
Quonab's respect。 But his attempts to get a deer were failures。
〃You come back next year with proper； farsight glasses and you'll
all right；〃 said Rolf； and that seemed the one ray of hope。
The three days' storm had thrown so many trees that the hunters
decided it would be worth while making a fast trip down to
Eagle's Nest； to cut such timber as might have fallen across the
stream； and so make an easy way for when they should have less time。
The surmise was quite right。 Much new…fallen timber was now
across the channel。 They chopped over twenty…five trunks before
they reached Eagle's Nest at noon； and； leaving the river in
better shape than ever it was； they turned； for the swift；
straight； silent run of ten miles home。
As they rounded the last point； a huge black form in the water
loomed to view。 Skookum's bristles rose。 Quonab whispered； 〃
Moose！ Shoot quick！〃 Van was the only one with a gun。 The great
black beast stood for a moment； gazing at them with wide…open
eyes； ears； and nostrils； then shook his broad horns； wheeled；
and dashed for the shore。 Van fired and the bull went down with a
mighty splash among the lilies。 Rolf and Skookum let off a
succession of most unhunterlike yells of triumph。 But the giant
sprang up again and reached the shore； only to fall to Van
Cortlandt's second barrel。 Yet the stop was momentary； he rose
and dashed into the cover。 Quonab turned the canoe at once and
made for the land。
A great sob came from the bushes； then others at intervals。
Quonab showed his teeth and pointed。 Rolf seized his rifle；
Skookum sprang from the boat； and a little later was heard
letting off his war…cry in the bushes not far away。
The men rushed forward； guns in hand； but Quonab called； 〃Look
out！ Maybe he waiting。〃
〃If he is； he'll likely get one of us。〃 said Rolf； with a light
laugh； for he had some hearsay knowledge of moose。
Covered each by a tree； they waited till Van had reloaded his
double…barrelled； then cautiously approached。 The great frothing
sobs had resounded from time to time。
Skookum's voice also was heard in the thicket； and when they
neared and glimpsed the place； it was to see the monster on the
ground； lying at full length； dinging up his head at times when
he uttered that horrid sound of pain。
The Indian sent a bullet through the moose's brain； then all was
still； the tragedy was over。
But now their attention was turned to Van Cortlandt。 He reeled；
staggered； his knees trembled； his face turned white； and； to
save himself from falling； he sank onto a log。 Here he covered
his face with his hands； his feet beat the ground； and his
shoulders heaved up and down。
The others said nothing。 They knew by the signs and the sounds
that it was on