Red Hamblin Entertains by Raymond S

by Monte Herridge

  Argosy, December, 29, 1917

  NE day, while the Black Creek gang

  bounded a bale of black, which seemed to roll of loggers were skidding on the and tumble along, and finally scurried into the O Cotton Lake Ridge, Mr. Vroon, the woods out of sight.

  owner of the paper mill to which the spruce

  “Wasn’t that a bear?” Mr. Vroon asked

  was bound, arrived at the camp and mildly.

  immediately accompanied Foreman Bigger up

  “Sure as you’re born, sir!” Bigger

  into the chopping to see the men at work.

  replied.

  They followed the footpath up to the

  “Lots of game around here, it seems to

  back of the ridge behind the camp and then me?”

  along the crest to the top of the new chopping

  “Lots of it—I see a deer every day or

  which had been made during the summer two.”

  months. Within three hundred yards of the

  “How do you account for it?”

  camp a regular old rocking-chair buck stepped

  “No one hunts here. Too far to hunt in

  out of a clump of pole spruces, stared at the one day, and too near to camp out.”

  two men for five seconds with startled brown

  “Lots of room in camp?”

  eyes, and then bucked sideways, turned and

  “We’ve some extra cots, usually.”

  bumped down the far side of the ridge.

  “Well, perhaps a man will come here

  “Many deer around?” Mr. Vroon hunting toward the end of the season,” Mr.

  asked.

  Vroon suggested.

  “Quite a lot—yes. None of the boys

  “Friend of yours—glad to have him!”

  hunt any.”

  “Oh, yes, one of those—um-m—well,

  “Um-m,” the capitalist nodded.

  he’s always looking for a chance to go

  They had gone nearly half a mile when

  hunting, or fishing, or like that. Perhaps I’ll there was a sudden flurry in some witch-dump him onto you?”

  hopples, and into the pathway ahead of them

  “I can stand it if he can,” Bigger

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  grinned.

  paid Lafay, the liveryman, twenty dollars,

  “Oh, you must be real nice to him!”

  which was double rates, to bring him in to the

  “I’d certainly be!” Bigger declared, Black Creek log camp, where he arrived on looking around sharply, and then he added: Saturday afternoon.

  “But I’ve some very rough men around camp, Four suit-cases, three gun-cases, and

  here—Red Hamblin—”

  two or three wooden boxes comprised his

  “Red? Say, now, you know, I can’t get

  baggage, and he had Lafay put them all in the that man here too quick. His name is Pelyon—

  lobby. There they remained until the log crew D. Cuecy Pelyon. You’ve probably read about returned from the chopping, tired, sweaty, and him?”

  yet with threats of chills and incipient colds.

  “Not since I was a boy,” Jim shook his

  Cuecy had taken one of his guns and

  head and Mr. Vroon chuckled.

  gone hunting. Mr. C. Vroon had told him

  When they arrived at the scene of the

  about the path along the back of the ridge skidding operations, Red Hamblin had just behind the camp, and he must immediately go become provoked at a spruce stick ten inches up and try to see the big buck, or perhaps the in diameter and twelve feet long. This stick bear.

  had been hooked at the end of a string of five Red Hamblin walked into the camp,

  logs, which a horse was towing down a gutter with his red-bearded face turned over his on the rough hillside, and a little crook in the shoulder to tell Ross Comply that if he

  log made it corkscrew into every root, stump, despised anything in all the world, it was and tree, and fall over every rock and wedge Saturday night, after four days’ rain, and when in.

  everybody was tired out and there wasn’t

  Red seized a bar and pried the dog out

  anything—

  of the log and yelled for the horse to go on its Red stepped against a suit-case, and to

  way. The horse took the logs down alone

  save himself, he jumped ahead and over,

  without difficulty, now that the spite-log had landing upon another suit-case which was

  been cut out. The man picked the stick up by leaning against a small, wooden box, and

  one end, wrapped both arms around it, and though Red was agile, and reached in all the began to pull and growl and worry it, directions, the hay-wire overhead, on which suggesting nothing else so much as a puppy were numerous shirts, socks, and other things eating a rubber boot.

  drying, proved too weak to give him the

  Of course, Red’s voice could be heard

  support he most needed. He fell upon the

  half a mile. He carried the log down to the floor, with the drying-line full upon him, and skids, and threw it at the two men who were numerous ribs bumped by corners of leather skidding the timber. Then he jumped on the and wood.

  horse and rode it backward up the side hill, Red fought the pile of baggage in the

  swearing at the scenery and his mates.

  dim light, not sure that some of it was not

  “Yes,” Mr. Vroon continued, “I think

  alive. When a light was struck, and a lamp lit, I’ll surely have to send Cuecy up here. Red’ll Red was on his feet, prepared for any needful do him good!”

  action. The logger looked around at the suit-Cuecy arrived ten days later. The cases, boxes, and gun-cases.

  leaves had all been whipped down from the

  “Jee—gosh—some

  dangwhanged

  witch-hopples by a heavy autumn rain-storm.

  party of sports—”

  The woods were gray, wet, and soggy. A chill,

  “On, ho!” Jim Bigger hastened to

  suggestive of frost, was in the air. Cuecy had correct a misapprehension. “There’s only

  Red Hamblin Entertains

  3

  one—Mr. D. Cuecy Pelyon’s his name—”

  arrived in the camp lobby.

  “What—one?” Red demanded. “But

  “Oh, Mr. Bigger!” he shouted. “I heard

  there’s—one, two-three, four, all them a deer, and I don’t know if I hit ’im or not, but suitcases and the boxes, ’sides the guns!”

  if he was there anywhere, I hit him! I certainly

  “Only one,” Jim shook his head. “Mr.

  did!”

  D. Cuecy Pelyon—”

  “You shot exactly where you heard

  “Cussy Pell which?” Red demanded.

  him?” Foreman Bigger asked softly.

  “D. Cuecy Pelyon,” Foreman Bigger

  “You bet I did! My! He made an awful

  repeated again gravely.

  racket!”

  “Well, by—um-m—D. Cussy Hellion!

  “You must have done’a lot of huntin’

  Ain’t that a name—friend of yours, Jim?” Red in your day,” Red Hamblin exclaimed, with asked quickly.

  admiration, “knowing a deer by the sound of

  “No; Mr. Vroon sent him up here.”

  his jump!”

  “Must of wanted to get rid of him!”

  “Oh, I’ve hunted!” the young man

  Red snorted.

  beamed. “I never hu
nted deer before, but I’ve

  “Yes, very, likely,” Jim admitted. “Mr.

  hunted foxes on horseback—”

  Pelyon had been pestering Mr. Vroon a long

  “You’re qualified!” Red shook his

  time, for a chance to enjoy sport from one of head violently. “Yes, sir! Now I expect we’re his log camps. Mr. Vroon hated to let him in going to have a lot of venison to eat in this any of them. You see, Mr. D. Cuecy Pelyon camp—”

  might accidentally—”

  “Oh—I—you see, I’m going to carry

  “Mistake somebody for a deer?” Red

  the deer home with me,” the hunter declared.

  demanded. “And Mr. Vroon asked him to this

  “Really, you know, you must have lots to eat camp? Why, the dod-blasted—”

  here. You couldn’t afford to eat venison—it’s

  “Oh—Mr. Vroon asked if a tough old

  very expensive, you know!”

  fellow he used to know was here—man name

  “Oh, that’s all right!” Red hastened.

  of Red Hamblin. Then he said perhaps we’d

  “Come on in and set up! Supper’s ready—

  have a visitor—”

  come on, old boy! We’ve took a shine to you.

  “Eh—what? The old boy said that? He

  Stick that gun up in the corner—the damned seen me fight, wunst, to Forestport—time I thing’s loaded?”

  took Old Barney, the Black River canaler, and

  “Why—”

  painted his boat with him, an’ a barrel of tar D. Cuecy started to hand the weapon

  fer paint! Yes, sir! By Jee! An’ he said—he to Red, but it slipped, and the butt fell to the said?”

  floor. At that there was a roar, and every man

  “He didn’t say anything, Red,” Jim

  yelled. The rifle had been cocked, and the jar exclaimed sternly. “Mr. D. Cuecy Pelyon is—

  had pulled the trigger. The bullet, happily, er—the guest of the camp. We must entertain went straight up, through a beam, then the him!”

  floor, then a rafter, and out of the roof. That

  “We’ll do it!” Red declared far the loggers traced its course.

  vehemently. “What the—”

  From all sides there ensued low and

  All stopped to listen. Up on the ridge a

  profane swearing, but Red Hamblin laughed few hundred feet they heard a firing and a aloud.

  shooting of many cartridges in swift

  “That’s all right, old sport!” he said to succession. The shots ceased after a time. A the blue-lipped young man. “Accidents will few minutes later, Mr. D. Cuecy Pelyon happen, y’ know. Two, three years ago I killed

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  a feller myself, kind of accidentally.”

  more things to eat on the big plate, till there

  “You did?” the youth asked was an outlying ridge of fried cakes, bread, breathlessly. “How did that happen?”

  meat, potatoes, and other things which had

  “Why, all there was to it, I picked up a

  fallen off the plate, or which the guest had gun like this, and I poked it against his ribs succeeded in pushing away, as Red’s big

  that way”—Red poked the young man just

  hands tried to press it upon him.

  above the belt with the rifle muzzle—”and I Commonly, the log crew ate its fill in

  was kind of fooling with the trigger—like that, twenty to twenty-five minutes, but this night it you see! And the danged thing went off!”

  took them nearly forty minutes to dine. Some

  “Oh—yes!” the sport gasped, side-

  of them ate twice as much as usual, just to stepping the muzzle quickly, exclaiming: have an excuse to remain. The cook brought

  “Look out—that might—”

  two cups, one for coffee and one for tea—and

  “Oh, no! This ain’t loaded!” Red while D. Cuecy was putting one down, Red shook his head.

  “I just seen it go off! I

  would be lifting the other to his lips.

  tell you, since I killed po’r ole Pete, I be’n Probably D. Cuecy never had another

  awful careful. I never seen a man bleed the meal like that. His woods hosts could not do way he done! Well, come on to supper!”

  enough for him. One even brought a ham from Red and the rest of the crew went in to

  the shed and asked if he would have a slice.

  eat. D. Cuecy wanted to wash. When he With some relief he escaped for a moment to finally looked into the dining-room, Red spied the lobby, but there all hands turned too, to him on the instant.

  make him comfortable, and Red and Ross

  “Right here, old sport!” he shouted.

  Comply tried to pull him to the log-end chairs

  “Saved a place here for ye!”

  which each provided for him.

  D. Cuecy walked along doubtfully, and

  Red proceeded to clean the rifle, which

  when he saw that he must step over the long had been discharged that afternoon. It was a bench to take his place, he hesitated just long beautiful octagon barrel, with engraved breech enough to show that the bench was not to his and carved stock. Red brought out a long

  exact liking. Moreover, piled on his place, piece of hay wire, and wrapped a piece of red ready for him, were four potatoes, three great flannel around the end. Then he swabbed the greasy slabs of fried pork, beginning to grow flannel in stove ashes and proceeded to draw it cold, and nearly a cup full of good old pork through the barrel.

  grease—the kind that makes the hair grow on D. Cuecy could hear the wire

  a man’s chest! as Red told him.

  scratching through the barrel, and he began to

  “Get around it!” Red exclaimed. worry—he tried to explain that he had a real

  “Here’s the butter. Pass that bread, you blue-cleaner, real gun oil, and real linen rags.

  eyed sow-belly! This gen’leman’s been

  “Them fancy things ain’t no good!”

  huntin’, an’ he’s hongry! Say, mister—d’ye Red declared. “Takes good wood ashes to

  eat cake er bread with yer taters?”

  have a bite to clean a gun barr’l out!”

  “Why—I—usually—” D. Cuecy was

  D. Cuecy protested, but in vain. In the

  nearly speechless.

  mean while each of the others took out his He made a stagger at eating, and the

  other weapons and looked at them—a

  flavor was not really bad. It was good; beautiful double-barrel shotgun, and a little besides, he was hungry, as Red had said, and twenty-two repeater. One fired the shot-gun at Red stood by and with the most friendly the chinkings of the logs; another emptied the solicitation in the world, heaped more and

  “twenty-two” at an imaginary moose in one

  Red Hamblin Entertains

  5

  corner—it was the toe of an old rubber boot.

  disappointed. Red urged him to hurry with his

  “To-morrer!” Red Hamblin declared,

  eating, so they wouldn’t be late. Gulping

  “we’ll all go huntin’!”

  down the hash, bread, hot coffee, and other D. Cuecy and his belongings were things, Red urged his seat-mate to do likewise, taken up into the dormitory, and he was shown and D. Cuecy, modest, embarrassed, and in to a cot beside the aisle, about midway strange quarters, was dragged away from the between the ladder and the office, in which table before he had fairly tasted his breakfast.

  Foreman Bigger slept. His suit-cases and

  Early as he was, however, he found

  boxes were piled around him, and the loggers that his woodsmen friends had prepared for went to their own places.

  the hunt. Slip Wanda had his big rifle, Red Long after the loggers were in bunk,

  had his shot
gun, and Ross Compty had his

  D. Cuecy was feeling around among his “twenty-two.” His nine-inch blade hunting-possessions, by the dim lantern light, trying to knife was flourishing in the hands of Peter dispose of his things. He had never seen a log Lansley.

  camp before!

  “Come on, boys!” Red shouted, and

  During the night the loggers were led the way up the ridge.

  restless. First one, then another would go D. Cuecy, with nothing but his

  ambling around. Red wanted his chewing hunting-boots to carry, pressed up with the tobacco; Ross Compty was trying to find his others. Every time he hinted gently, that he old pipe—not the new one! Slip Wanda would just as soon carry his gun, the pretended to be a somnambulist, and fell over woodsmen poo-hooed the idea. Let a guest

  D. Cuecy’s cot, and then it required five or six carry a gun! That’d never do in the world!

  loggers to carry him back to his own cot and They hurried breathlessly to the ridge

  put him to bed.

  back, and along the top to Cotton Mountain, At dawn D. Cuecy was heavy-eyed for

  and down to Cotton Lake, through the balsam want of sleep. The loggers stirring out for the swamp and caribou moss to Pekan Rocks, and day, however, boasted what a good night’s up over the broken stones to the foot of a high rest they had had, and Red remarked that he ledge, and around through gullies and over had never seen the boys so quiet as that night.

  ledges—everywhere at top speed.

  “Quiet! Quiet!” D. Cuecy repeated

  “Lot’s of bears in this country!” Red

  wonderingly.

  exclaimed, hauling up his gun and firing a