The suburban citizen., 1900-03-17

N4 ll94gsyVUI lamlly Oh lauAy
IN A "the back forty"
a.~-N1-A '@>" Of their home
stead. They built a little shanty Of
Eastwood and tapped more than four
hundred naples, using log dugouts
for tubs, and sumac spouts for plug
ging the sapholes. Mother Driscoll,
with shawl wrapped about her jolly,
red face, skinned the fragrant syrup
that bubbled and popped in the great
iron kettles, while Jonathan and his
sons chopped the wood and gathered
the sap. AT that time, during the
Civil War, maple-sugar was scarce
and high, and it sometimes paid bet
ter than a crop of wheat.
The Driscols had ideal sap weather.
The nights were sharp and frosty,
the days were bright and sunny, and
Jonathan Driscoll's white-faced mare
tolled early and late, dragging the
sledge with the sap barrels from tree
to tree.
One morning Dirk Driscoll, the
talest and lankest and brownest OF
the boys, started out as usual, cluck-
ing to the old mare and shifting the
crisp morning air. The sun, shining
through bare limbs, threw may
shadows on the frosty ground, and a
chickadee or two hoped about the
discolored heaps OF snow which still
fingered in thesprotecting shade ofthe
hazel brush. Dirk had drawn him
self up to every inch Of his six-feet
two, and was whistiing cheerily.
at the first tree the old mare halted
from force of habit and natural incli-
nation. When Dirk stopped to lift
the sap boat, his whistle died oGL in
an exclamation of surprise aud anger,
The sumac spoutwas broken OHshort,
close to the trunk os the tree, and the
bark was black and gustening with
the wasted sap. The boat had been
tipped over, and was covered with
forest mold, dead leaves and twigs.
Dirk drove the rounds at a speed that
must have astonished the placid
minded old marc. He found Il score
of spouts broken. Many boats had
been overturned, apparently with the
intention Of doing as much damage as
possible.
Dirk strobe up the slopo to the
shanty with a dangerous fire in his
eyes. Sap-stealing in the maple
sugar country was almost as serious
an offence as stealing on the
plains, and although the hand Of JUS
tice seldom reached so far into the
woods, the settlers administered {
rude but effective justice of their own
Father y shouted Dirk, as he came
in sight, "some one has been stealing
our sapl"
"Oh, [ guess not" drawed iona
than Driscoil.
"But they have, I tell your Dirk
insisted. Come down and see fol
yourself"
81 wouldn't mind their taking al
they wanted to drink" said Jonathan
Driscoll, when he had seen the marks
of destruction, "or they could have
had a whole jug of syrup il they q
marched up like men aud asked for it. ,
Had there been snow on the ground
they could have traced the marauders
with comparative ease but in the
springy mold of the woods it was diff.
ficult to distinguish any tracks except
those of the old mare and the sledge.
Occasionally there was the mark of O
boot-heel, but it might have been
made by the Driscolls themselves,
tramping about with their cowhide
bootS. Dirk leaped suddenly from
an examination of the track near q
great maple.
"Here, look here" he shouted.
He pointed out the clearly defined
print of moccasined foot in bit OF
snow which still banked the north
side of the tree. 1t evidently had been
made only a few hours before, Near
it, in bare spot where the sledge
had worn through the sod, his brother
Lon discovered the mark Of hoof
Steer" said Jonathan Driscoll
when he had examined it carefully.
In several other places they found
more moocasin tracks and hoof-prints.
"Most sap-stealers think pails and
kegs arc good enough, but these peo-
pic come with o yoke oxen and bar
rels," commented Dirk, ominously.
wonder whose steers they could
be?" asked Lon. "Carter's are still
in the pineries; Mcrrison's using his,
and Seeberger---"
81 know" interrupted Jimmy Dris-
coll, TITS that new family of Bah
bits. They've got a pair Of runty
red steers--don't you remember? Be-
sides, J." he added, exoitodly, as if il
had just occurred to him, "the boys
both wear moccasinsl They're great
hunters, you know"
"It may be possible" " said Jonathan
Driscoll. shaking his head Zone Of