CHAPTER XI--ESCAPE
When the accidental shaking of the branch disclosed his refuge, Nathanwished he had taken the easier shelter of a hollow log or the tangle ofa windfall. The more so, when he caught brief, swift flashes of the axegleaming up through the dark foliage and felt the tree shiver at everysturdy stroke. But he had no thought of surrender. The trunk of theleaning birch, so slender that his arms and legs could clasp it, hadgiven him access to this coign of vantage and now offered a retreat fromit.
Toombs was intent upon his work, with his back turned squarely towardthe foot of the birch, though barely six paces from it. Escape, if atall, must be made while the chopper was on this side of the hemlock.Very cautiously he regained the birch where it hid trunk and lithebranches in the embrace of the great evergreen, and then workeddownward, with an eye ever on his enemy underneath, making swiftestprogress when the axe fell and its sound overbore the rustle of thebirch's shaggy, yellow mane, that his buttons scraped along. At last histoes were tickled by the topmost leaves of a low, sprangling hobblebush, then lightly touched by the last year's fallen leaves and the softmould. Then, as a flying chip struck him full on the cheek, he loosedhis hold on the trunk and stole stealthily to the shelter of the nearestgreat tree.
The axe strokes ceased, but a glance showed him that Toombs was onlywiping his sweaty brow on his sleeve, as he looked up into the tree andaddressed its supposed occupant. As the futile chopping was resumed,Nathan crept off through the undergrowth till beyond sight and hearing,when he ran upright so swiftly that he was a mile away when the roar ofthe tree's fall came booming through the woods.
He sat down to get his breath and determine where to go, for so far hehad only thought to escape his stepfather. Should he try for the Fort?How was he to cross the lake without a boat, and, if there, on what pleathat he could offer was he likely to be harbored, for Toombs was on veryfriendly terms with the commander! Not there could he find protection.His old friend Job was the only one to whom he could look, and in hissecluded cabin he might hope to escape detection.
With this determination he arose and went his way, too well skilled inwoodcraft, for all his youth, to lose it while the sun shone. Pushingsteadily on he saw at last the slanted sunbeams shining golden greenthrough the woodside leaves, then saw them glimmering on the quietchannel of Job's creek, and following the shore upstream, presentlyemerged in the little clearing. It was as quiet as the woods around it,and seemed more untenanted, for through them the songs of the thrusheswere ringing in flute-like cadences, while here nothing was astir.
Nathan made his way so silently to the open door that he stood lookingin upon the occupants of the cabin before they became aware of hispresence. Job was squatting before the fireplace engaged in frying meat,and a great, gaunt, blue-mottled hound sat close beside him, intentlywatching the progress of the cooking. Presently his keen nose caught ascent of the intruder, and he uttered a low, threatening growl thatattracted his master's attention.
"Be quiet, Gabriel; what is't troubles you?" Then seeing his visitorhesitating at the threshold, "Why, Nathan, come in my boy, come in, thehound won't hurt you. Ain't he a pictur'? Did you ever see such ears?Did you ever see such a chest and such legs? And he's as good as he isharnsome. I went clean to Manchester arter him and gin three primebeaver skins for him. He's one o' Peleg Sunderland's breed and'll folleranything that walks, if you tell him to, from a mushrat to a man. And asfor his voice, good land! You hain't never heard no music till you hearit. That's what give him his name, Gabriel. But what's the matter withyou, Nathan?" when, withdrawing his admiring gaze from his newacquisition, he noted the boy's wearied and troubled countenance. "Youlook clean beat out. There hain't nothin' the matter with your folks?"
Nathan told the story of his treatment since his mother's marriage toToombs, and his unpremeditated flight, and all the particulars of hisescape.
"I'd ha' gin a dozen mushrat skins to seen him when he got the tree downand didn't find you, and him like a fool dog a barkin' up a tree an hourarter the coon'd left it. You done right to come to me, for he won'tcome here to look for ye right off. And then when he's had time to cooloff and git ashamed of himself, you can go home."
"No," said the boy quickly; "I'll never go back till I'm old enough tolick him and make him sorry I come."
"Oh, well, you think you will. But you won't never. The rough edge'll bewore off afore you git round to it. Once I swore I'd thrash aschoolmarster I hed, and when I went to do it we jes' sot down andtalked over old times, like ol' friends. But what'll your mother and sisdo without you?"
"They'll be better off without me. I can't help mother any, nor she me,yet awhile. Can't you let her know I'm safe some way?"
"Oh, yes, I'll happen round there some day to rights. How in tunket didshe ever come to mate wi' that surly red-haired dog? You know I hain'tseen her since they was married. Women is onaccountable critters,anyhow, an' I've been marcifully presarved from ever bein' tackled toone on 'em;" yet he sighed, as he looked about the littered room, thatshowed so plainly the lack of housewifely care.
After the supper of fried venison and johnny-cake was eaten, they sat inthe twilight and firelight talking over the past and plans for thefuture, till the boy, worn out with the events of the day, was given anest of furs in the loft, where he would be safe from detection by anychance visitor, and Job, after barring the door and carefully coveringthe fire, betook himself with the hound to their accustomed couch on thefloor.
A Hero of Ticonderoga Page 11
