Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year Part 22

The Colonel's son a pistol drew and held it muzzle end, "Ye have taken the one from a foe," said he; "will ye take the mate from a friend?"

"A gift for a gift," said Kamal straight; "a limb for the risk of a limb. 20 Thy father has sent his son to me, I'll send my son to him!"

With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain crest-- He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he looked like a lance in rest. 25 "Now here is thy master," Kamal said, "who leads a troop of the Guides, And thou must ride at his left side as s.h.i.+eld on shoulder rides.

"Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed.

Thy life is his--thy fate it is to guard him with thy head.

So thou must eat the White Queen's meat, and all her foes are thine, 5 And thou must harry thy father's hold for the peace of the Border line, And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power-- Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am hanged 10 in Peshawar."

They have looked each other between the eyes and there they found no fault, They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt; 15 They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod, On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the wondrous Names of G.o.d.

The Colonel's son he rides the mare and Kamal's boy the 20 dun, And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one.

And when they drew to the Quarter Guard, full twenty swords flew clear-- 25 There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer.

"Ha' done! ha' done!" said the Colonel's son. "Put up the steel at your sides!

Last night ye had struck at a Border thief--to-night 'tis a 30 man of the Guides!"

Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet, Till Earth and Sky stand presently at G.o.d's great Judgment Seat; But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor 5 Birth, When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth!

--_Departmental Ditties._

1. What do you think Kipling means by "East is East, and West is West"? Who in the poem represented the East? Who the West? Where is the scene of the poem laid?

2. What incident gave rise to the ride? Interpret the advice given by Mahommed Khan. What did he mean in lines 14-15, page 168, and lines 12-13, page 169?

3. What happened in the first lap of the ride? In the second? How was Mahommed Khan's advice shown to be true? What was the climax of the chase?

4. What happened when the two chief characters met face to face? What kind of man was Kamal? Prove your comments from the poem.

5. How did the whole affair turn out?

6. You doubtless have read Kipling's _Jungle Books_, and you will wish to read _Captains Courageous_, and some of his short stories like "Wee Willie Winkie."

Kipling married an American woman and lived for a time at Brattleboro, Vt. He now resides in England.

_UNDER THE OPEN SKY_

_Love had he found in huts where poor men lie; His daily teachers had been woods and rills, The silence that is in the starry sky, The sleep that is among the lonely hills._

--WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A NIGHT AMONG THE PINES

(_See following page_)]

A NIGHT AMONG THE PINES

BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

This is an account of one night's camping-out experience in the mountains of southeastern France.

Stevenson's only companion was Modestine, a donkey "not much bigger than a dog, the color of a mouse, with a kindly eye and a determined jaw." The selection is especially fine in its interpretation of night out of doors. Read it to gather the impressions that the sights and sounds made upon the author. Then read it to discover what you would have listened for (and probably heard) had you been in the same position.

From Bleymard after dinner, although it was already late, I set out to scale a portion of the Lozere. An ill-marked stony droveroad guided me forward; and I met nearly half a dozen bullock carts descending from the woods, each laden with a whole pine tree for the winter's firing. 5 At the top of the woods, which do not climb very high upon this cold ridge, I struck leftward by a path among the pines, until I hit on a dell of green turf, where a streamlet made a little spout over some stones to serve me for a water tap. "In a more sacred or sequestered bower . . . nor 10 nymph, nor faunus, haunted." The trees were not old, but they grew thickly round the glade; there was no outlook, except northeastward upon distant hilltops or straight upward to the sky; and the encampment felt secure and private like a room. By the time I had made my arrangements 15 and fed Modestine, the day was already beginning to decline. I buckled myself to the knees into my sack and made a hearty meal; and as soon as the sun went down, I pulled my cap over my eyes and fell asleep.

Night is a dead monotonous period under a roof; but in the open world it pa.s.ses lightly, with its stars and dews and perfumes, and the hours are marked by changes in the face of Nature. What seems a kind of temporal death to people choked between walls and curtains, is only a light 5 and living slumber to the man who sleeps afield. All night long he can hear Nature breathing deeply and freely; even as she takes her rest, she turns and smiles; and there is one stirring hour unknown to those who dwell in houses, when a wakeful influence goes abroad over the sleeping 10 hemisphere, and all the outdoor world are on their feet.

It is then that the c.o.c.k first crows, not this time to announce the dawn, but like a cheerful watchman speeding the course of the night. Cattle awake on the meadows; sheep break their fast on dewy hillsides, and change to a new lair among 15 the ferns; and houseless men, who have lain down with the fowls, open their dim eyes and behold the beauty of the night.

At what inaudible summons, at what gentle touch of Nature, are all these sleepers thus recalled in the same hour 20 to life? Do the stars rain down an influence, or do we share some thrill of mother earth below our resting bodies?

Even shepherds and old country folk, who are the deepest read in these arcana, have not a guess as to the means or purpose of this nightly resurrection. Towards two in the 25 morning, they declare the thing takes place; and neither know nor inquire further. And at least it is a pleasant incident. We are disturbed in our slumber only, like the luxurious Montaigne, "that we may the better and more sensibly relish it." We have a moment to look upon the 30 stars, and there is a special pleasure for some minds in the reflection that we share the impulse with all outdoor creatures in our neighborhood, that we have escaped out of the Bastille of civilization, and are become, for the time being, a mere kindly animal and a sheep of Nature's flock.

When that hour came to me among the pines, I wakened thirsty. My tin was standing by me, half full of water. 5 I emptied it at a draft. The stars were clear, colored and jewellike, but not frosty. A faint silvery vapor stood for the Milky Way. All around me the black fir points stood upright and stock-still. By the whiteness of the packsaddle, I could see Modestine walking round and round at the 10 length of the tether; I could hear her steadily munching at the sward; but there was not another sound, save the indescribable quiet talk of the runnel over the stones. I lay lazily smoking and studying the color of the sky, as we call the void of s.p.a.ce, from where it showed a reddish 15 gray behind the pines to where it showed a glossy blue-black between the stars.

A faint wind, more like a moving coolness than a stream of air, pa.s.sed down the glade from time to time; so that even in my great chamber the air was being renewed all 20 night long. I have not often enjoyed a more serene possession of myself, nor felt more independent of material aids.

The outer world, from which we cower into our houses, seemed after all a gentle, habitable place; and night after night a man's bed, it seemed, was laid and waiting for him in the 25 fields, where G.o.d keeps an open house. I thought I had rediscovered one of those truths which are revealed to savages and hid from political economists: at the least, I had discovered a new pleasure for myself. And yet even while I was exulting in my solitude I became aware of a 30 strange lack. I wished a companion to lie near me in the starlight, silent and not moving, but ever within touch.

For there is a fellows.h.i.+p more quiet even than solitude, and which, rightly understood, is solitude made perfect.

As I thus lay, between content and longing, a faint noise stole towards me through the pines. I thought, at first, it was the crowing of c.o.c.ks or the barking of dogs at 5 some very distant farm; but steadily and gradually it took articulate shape in my ears, until I became aware that a pa.s.senger was going by upon the highroad of the valley and singing loudly as he went. There was more of good will than grace in his performance; but he trolled with ample 10 lungs; and the sound of his voice took hold upon the hillside and set the air shaking in the leafy glens. I have heard people pa.s.sing by night in sleeping cities; some of them sang; one, I remember, played loudly on the bagpipes.

I have heard the rattle of a cart or carriage spring 15 up suddenly after hours of stillness and pa.s.s, for some minutes, within the range of my hearing as I lay abed.

There is a romance about all who are abroad in the black hours, and with something of a thrill we try to guess their business. But here the romance was double: first, this 20 glad pa.s.senger, who sent up his voice in music through the night; and then I, on the other hand, buckled into my sack, and smoking alone in the pine woods between four and five thousand feet towards the stars.

When I awoke again (Sunday, 29th September) many of 25 the stars had disappeared, only the stronger companions of the night still burned visibly overhead; and away towards the east I saw a faint haze of light upon the horizon, such as had been the Milky Way when I was last awake.

Day was at hand. I lit my lantern, and by its glowworm 30 light put on my boots and gaiters; then I broke up some bread for Modestine, filled my can at the water tap, and lit my spirit lamp to boil myself some chocolate. The blue darkness lay long in the glade where I had so sweetly slumbered; but soon there was a broad streak of orange melting into gold along the mountain top of Vivarais.

A solemn glee possessed my mind at this gradual and lovely 5 coming in of day. I heard the runnel with delight; I looked round me for something beautiful and unexpected; but the still black pine trees, the hollow glade, the munching a.s.s, remained unchanged in figure. Nothing had altered but the light, and that, indeed, shed over all a 10 spirit of life and of breathing peace, and moved me to a strange exhilaration.

I drank my water chocolate, which was hot if it was not rich, and strolled here and there, and up and down about the glade. While I was thus delaying, a gush of steady 15 wind, as long as a heavy sigh, poured direct out of the quarter of the morning. It was cold and set me sneezing.

The trees near at hand tossed their black plumes in its pa.s.sage; and I could see the thin, distant spires of pines along the edge of the hill, rock slightly to and fro against the 20 golden east. Ten minutes after, the sunlight spread at a gallop along the hillside, scattering shadows and sparkles, and the day had come completely.

I hastened to prepare my pack, and tackle the steep ascent that lay before me; but I had something on my 25 mind. It was only a fancy; yet a fancy will sometimes be importunate. I had been most hospitably received and punctually served in my green caravansary. The room was airy, the water excellent, and the dawn had called me to a moment. I say nothing of the tapestries or the inimitable 30 ceiling, nor yet of the view which I commanded from the windows; but I felt I was in some one's debt for all this liberal entertainment. And so it pleased me, in a half-laughing way, to leave pieces of money on the turf as I went along, until I had left enough for my night's lodging. I trust they did not fall to some rich and churlish drover. 5

--_Travels with a Donkey._

1. What did Stevenson _see_ during the night? What did he _hear_? How did he _feel_? The details are not unlike those in _Robinson Crusoe_.

2. Re-read the first paragraph, page 178, and tell what its chief idea is. Select the paragraph in which the description is clearest to you. Read it aloud. Observe how the simple words are arranged to make pictures and to produce rhythm. Stevenson rewrote many times to get this easy clearness.

3. If you have ever slept out of doors what impressed you most? What sounds did Stevenson probably fail to hear? Was he a naturalist?

4. Stevenson was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, in 1850. He belonged to a family of civil engineers.

His health was always poor, so he traveled a great deal. He went to France and to Switzerland. He came to America and spent some time in the Adirondacks.

Finally he settled on an island far out in the Pacific Ocean, where he lived till his death, in 1894. In spite of his poor health, he was a busy writer of novels, essays, short stories, and verse.