The Little Red Foot - LightNovelsOnl.com
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So I went below and piled the furs upon him and waited till he snored before I left him to his hibernation.
Such childishness! Who would believe it of us that were no longer children! And all alone there in a little house amid a vast and wintry wilderness, where no living thing stirred abroad save the white hare's ghost in the starlight, and the shadow of the lean, weird beast that tracked her.
Well, if we conducted like children we were as light-minded and as innocent. There was in our behaviour no lesser levity; in our mirth no grossness; in our jests and stories no license of the times nor any country coa.r.s.eness in our speech.
Nor, in me, now remained aught of that sick-heart jealousy nor sentimental disorder which lately had seized me and upset my sense and reason.
My sentiments concerning Penelope seemed very clear to me now;--a warm liking; a chivalrous desire for her well-being and happiness; a pride that I had been, in some measure, the instrument which had awakened her to her own prerogatives in a world whose laws are made by men.
And if, on such an occasion as this, she gave us her countenance and even frolicked with us, there was a new and clearer note in her laughter, a swifter confidence in her smile, and, in voice and look and movement, a subtle and shy authority which had not been there in the inexperienced and candid child whose heart seemed bewildered when a.s.saulted, and whose lips, undefended, rendered them to the first marauder.
I said as much, one day, to Nick.
"You've turned the child's head," said he, "with your kingly benefactions. You have but to woo her if you want her to wife."
"Wife!" said I, scared o' the very word. "What the devil shall I do with a wife, who am contented as I am? Also, it is not in her mind, nor in mine, who now are pleasant friends and comrades.... Also," I added, "love is a disorder and begets a brood of jealousies to plague a man to death! I am calm and contented. I am enamoured of no woman, and do not desire to be so.... Although, when I pa.s.s thirty, and possess estates, doubtless I shall desire an heir."
"And go a-hunting a mother for this same heir among the gilt-hats of New York," said Nick. "Which is your destiny, John Drogue, for like seeks like, and a yeoman is born, not made;--and wears his rings in his ears----"
"Have done!" said I impatiently. "I _am_ of the soil! I love it! I love plowed land and corn and the smell of stables! I love my log house and my glebe and the smell of English gra.s.s!"
"But a servant is a servant, John Drogue, and the mistress of your roof shall have walked in silk before she ever puts on homespun and pattens for love of you! Lord, man! I am I, and you are you! And we mate not with the same breed o' birds. No! For mine shall be a ground-chick of sober hue and feather; and your sweetheart shall have bright wings and own the air for a home.
"That is already written: 'each after its kind.' So G.o.d send you your rainbow lady from the clouds, and give you a pretty heir in due event; and as for me, if I guess right, my mate to be hath never fluttered higher than her garret nor worn a shred of silk till she sews her wedding dress!"
On the last day of March maple sap ran.
Nick and I set out that day to seek a sugar-bush for the new mistress of Summer House.
Snow was soft and our snow-shoes scarce bore us, but we floundered along the hard woods, and presently discovered a grove of stately maples.
All that day we were busy in the barn making buckets out o' staves stored there; and on the first day of April we waded the softening snow to the new sugar-bush, tapped the trees, set our spouts and buckets, and also drew thither a kettle and dry wood against future need.
I remember that the day was clear and warm, where, in the sun, the barn doors stood open and the chickens ventured out to scratch about, where the sun had melted the snow.
All day long our c.o.c.k was a-crowing and a-courting; the south wind came warm with spring and fluttered the wash which Penelope was hanging out to dry and whiten under soft, blue skies.
In pattens she tripped about the slushy yard, her thick, bright hair pegged loosely, and her child's bosom and arms as white as the snow she stepped on.
Save only for my Saguenay, who stood on the veranda roof, resting upon his rifle, the scene was sweet and peaceful. Sheep bleated in yard and fold; cattle lowed in their manger; our c.o.c.k's full-throated challenge rang out under sunny skies; and everywhere the blue air was murmurous with the voice of rills running from the melting snows like mountain brooks.
On Vlaie Water the ice rotted awash; and already black crows were walking there, and I could see them busily searching the dead and yellow sedge, from where I sat hooping my sap-buckets and softly whistling to myself.
Nick made a s...o...b..ll and flung it at me, but I dodged it. Then Penelope made another and aimed it at me so truly that the soft lump covered my cap and shoulders with snow.
But her quick peal of laughter was checked when I sprang up to chasten her, and she fled on her pattens, but I caught her around the corner of the house under the lilacs.
"You should be trussed up and trounced like any child," said I, holding her with one hand whilst I sc.r.a.ped out snow from my neck with t'other.
At that she bent and flung a handful of snow over me; and I seized her, bent her back, and scrubbed her face till it was pink.
Choked with snow and laughter, we swayed together, breathless, she still defiant and s.n.a.t.c.hing up snow to fling over me.
"_You_ truss _me_ up!" she panted. "Do you think you are more than a boy to use me as a father or a husband only has the right?"
"You little minx!" said I, when I had spat out a mouthful of snow, "is not anyone free to trounce a child!----"
At that I slipped, or she tripped me; into a drift I went, and she pounced on me and sat astride with a cry of triumph.
"Now," says she, "I shall take your scalp, my fine friend"; and twisted one hand in my hair.
"Hiu-u! Kou-ee!" she cried, "a scalp taken means war to the end! Do you cry me mercy, John Drogue?"
I struggled, but the snow was soft and I sank the deeper, and could not unseat her.
"I drown in snow," said I. "Get up, you jade!"
"Jade!" cries she, and stopped my mouth with snow.
I struggled in vain; under her clinging weight the soft snow engulfed and held me like a very quicksand. I looked up at her and she laughed down at me.
"Do you yield you, John Drogue?"
"It seems I must. But wait!----"
"You threaten!"
"No! Do you mean to drown me, you vixen!"
"You engage not to seek revenge?"
"I do so."
"Why? Because you love me tenderly?"
"Yes," said I, half choked. "Let me up, you plague of Egypt!"
"That is not a loving speech, John Drogue. Do you love me or no?"
"Yes, I do,--you little,----"
"Little what?"
"Object of my heart's desire!" I fairly yelled. "I am like to smother here!----"
"This is All Fools' Day," says she, sick with laughter to see me mad and at her mercy. "Therefore, you must tell me lies, not truths. Tell me a pretty lie,--quickly!--else I scrub your features!"