按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
His impulse was to go on at once。 His reason； said 〃go slow。〃 So
he waited for fifteen minutes。 Then again； beginning with a slow
walk； he ere long added to his pace。 In half an hour he was
striding and in an hour the steady 〃trot； trot；〃 that slackened
only for the hills or swamps。 In an hour more he was on the
Washburn Ridge； and far away in the east saw Schroon Lake that
empties in the river Schroon； and as he strode along； exulting in
his strength； he sang in his heart for joy。 Again a gray wolf
cantered on his trail； and the runner laughed； without a thought
of fear。 He seemed to know the creature better now； knew it as a
brother； for it gave no hostile sound； but only seemed to trot；
trot； for the small joy of running with a runner； as a swallow or
an antelope will skim along by a speeding train。 For an hour or
more it matched his pace； then left as though its pleasant stroll
was done； and Rolf kept on and on and on。
The spring sun soared on high； the day grew warm at noon。 Schroon
River just above the lake was in his path； and here he stopped to
rest。 Here； with the last of his oatcake and a little tea； he
made his final meal； thirty eight miles had he covered since he
rose； his clothes were torn； his moccasins worn； but his legs
were strong； his purpose sure； only twenty…two miles now； and his
duty would be done； his honours won。 What should he do； push on
at once？ No； he meant to rest an hour。 He made a good fire by a
little pool； and using a great mass of caribou moss as a sponge；
he had a thorough rub…down。 He got out his ever… ready needle and
put his moccasins in good shape； he dried his clothes and lay on
his back till the hour was nearly gone。 Then he girded himself
for this the final run。 He was weary； indeed； but he was far from
spent； and the iron will that had yearly grown in force was there
with its unconquerable support。
Slowly at start； soon striding； and at last in the famous jog
trot of the scout he went。 The sky was blackened with clouds at
length； and the jealous； howling east wind rolled up in rain； the
spindrift blurred the way； the heavy showers of spring came down
and drenched him； but his pack was safe and he trotted on and on。
Then long； deep swamps of alder barred his path； and； guided only
by the compass； Rolf pushed in and through and ever east。 Barely
a mile an hour in the thickest part he made； but lagged not；
drenched and footsore； warm and torn； but doggedly； steadily on。
At three he had made a scant seven miles； then the level； open
wood of Thunderbolt was reached and his stride became a run；
trot； trot； trot； at six…mile gait； for but fifteen miles
remained。 Sustained； inspired； the bringer of good news； he
halted not and faltered not； but on and on。
Tramp tramp； tramp tramp endless； tireless； hour by hour。 At
five he was on Thunder Creek； scarce eight miles more to the
goal； his limbs were sore； his feet were sore； bone tired was he；
but his heart was filled with joy
〃News of battle； news of victory〃 he was bringing； and the
thought lent strength； the five mires passed； the way was plain
with good roads now； but the runner was so weary。 He was
striding； his running was done； the sun was low in the west； his
feet were bleeding； the courier was brain worn and leg worn； but
he strode and strode。 He passed by homes but heeded them not。
〃Come in and rest；〃 called one who saw nothing but a weary
traveller。 Rolf shook his head； but gave no word and strode
along。 A mile a short mile now； he must hold out； if he sat
down he feared he could not rise。 He came at last in sight of the
fort； then； gathering all his force； he broke into a trot； weak；
so weak that had he fallen； he could scarcely have got up； and
slow； but faster than a walk： and so； as the red sun sank； he
passed the gate。 He had no right to give tidings to any but the
general； yet they read it in his eyes。 The guard broke into a
cheer； and trotting still； though reeling； Rolf had kept his
word； had made his run； had brought the news； and had safely
reached his goal。
Chapter 74。 Van Trumper's Again
Why should the scout bringing good news be differently received
from the one that brings the ill？ He did not make； the news； he
simply did his duty； the same in both cases。 He is merely the
telegraph instrument。 Yet it is so ever。 King Pharaoh slew the
bearer of ill…tidings； that was human nature。 And General Hampton
brought in the tall stripling to his table； to honour him； to get
the fullest details； to glory in every item as though it all were
due to himself。 Rolf's wonderful journey was dilated on； and in
the reports to Albany he was honourably mentioned for
exceptionally meritorious service as a bearer of despatches。
For three days Flying Kittering was hero of the post； then other
runners came with other news and life went on。
Hitherto the scouts had worn no uniform； but the execution of one
of their number； who was captured by the British and treated as a
spy； resulted in orders that all be formally enlisted and put in
uniform。
Not a few withdrew from the service； some； like Quonab；
reluctantly consented； but Rolf was developing the fighting
spirit； and was proud to wear the colours。
The drill was tedious enough； but it was of short duration for
him。 Despatches were to go to Albany。 The general； partly to
honour Rolf； selected him。
〃Are you ready for another run； Kittering？〃
〃Yes； sir。〃
〃Then prepare to start as soon as possible for Fort George and
Albany。 Do you want a mate？〃
〃I should like a paddler as far as Fort George。〃
〃Well； pick your man。〃
〃Quonab。〃
And when they set out； for the first time Rolf was in the stern；
the post of guidance and command。 So once more the two were
travelling again with Skookum in the bow。 It was afternoon when
they started and the four…mile passage of the creek was slow； but
down the long； glorious vista of the noble George they went at
full canoe…flight； five miles an hour； and twenty…five miles of
the great fair…way were reeled and past when they lighted their
nightly fire。
At dawn…cry of the hawk they sped away； and in spite of a rising
wind they made six miles in two hours。
As they approached the familiar landing of Van Trumper's farm；
Skookum began to show a most zestful interest that recalled the
blackened pages of his past。 〃Quonab； better use that；〃 and Rolf
handed a line with which Skookum was secured and thus led to make
a new record； for this was the first time in his life that he
landed at Van Trumper's without sacrificing a chicken in honour
of the joyful occasion。
They entered the house as the family were sitting down to
breakfast。
〃Mein Hemel！ mein Hemel！ It is Rolf and Quonab； and vere is dot
tam dog？ Marta； vere is de chickens？ Vy； Rolf； you bin now a
giant； yah。 Mein Gott； it is I am glad！ I did tink der cannibals
you had eat； is it dem Canad