Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1915-06-26
The Owl Call

probably to a certain portliness OF per-
son, have been elected the Friar Tuck
of the Band. The forest itself Is WOOD
OF beech trees between two round green
hills. At it's very heart is bubbllng
spring of clear water that never freezes
in winter or fails in summer.
That afternoon we had explored the
haunted house at the edge Of the wood,
with it's date-stone of 1909, and its fire.
place ten feet wide with the triple
tunnelled stone chimney. Little John
had climbed puffingly up through two
sets Of black oak beams to where rev
warped hemlock boards still made
patch Of flooring in the attic.
Under a rafter was hidy-hole drill
ed like flicker's nest into one or the
soft micaschist stones Of the CHIMNEY:
When Friar Tuck had first discovered
this hiding place it had held batter
ed top and two flint arrow-h heads, all
that were left in that little attic cham
Der Of some long gone boytood Today
Little John found there a treasure OF
sweet chocolate in a pasteboard box.
The hidy-hole had been known to hoid
figs, cakes or even jack knives, Whlle
one golden day from its depths was
drawn a clinkng bag Of new buffalo
nickels. 1t was the opinion OF the panu
that the Boy Of the Attic had some
thing TO DO WITH tneSe HOdIuS, e'i'hooo -
Robin Hood had mis- doubts.
In the spring twilight we stole out
through the back door. A lilac bush
that in century had become thicket
of purple scented bloom surrounded the
whole side Of the house, while UNDER
meath a squat buttonwood tree OF mon
strous girth was the dome OF Dutcn
oven. We followed q dim path fr1nsed
with white thorn bloom and sprays OF
viburnum blossoms. Against the amber
afterglow show the faint tracery OF the
late leafing heeches. AS the path wound
its way among the white, bare holes
the woods had the effect of sudden
silence.
They've stopped talking" said ROBIN
Hood, in a huShed voice.
"who?" oreried little Will Scarlet, in
a startled whisper.
"Oh-they," Robin said mysterious
ly. and the band with one accord closed
up around the Friar, while a tim1d llttie
hand that seemed to belong to that DASH
ing blade Will Scarlet slipped into one
of his. In the distance beyond the
farther hill came the grooming OF the
toads or their annual pilgrimage PACK
to the marsh where they were born,
broken now and then by the clear, hlsh
note Of the little salamander singing
mis- spring song.
At last we reached a bank all blue
and white with enamelled innocents. IN
front was bare path on which the
camp fire was always kindled: Inc
band scattered for f1reWood, altnough
not far, for there were too many lurk-
ing shadows among those tree trunks.
Then came the lighting of the camp
fire. This was always the duty OF Frlar
Tuck. Time was when he had done his
liv,f
file, ana finder laboriously made from
a half -charred rag and carried in the
shell Of a Mauser cartridge. Having
thus given the band taste of his real
quality as a woodsman, he had now
ever gone back to the more prosaic
safety match. 1t was the rule Of the
camp that the fire lighter must be nm
tied to one match. If so be that he fall
ed, the honor descended to Robin HOOD.
and SO on In succession down to VIII
Scarlet as the newest recruit. The Frlar
took no chances. With great care he
selected four dry beech leaves and
broke handful of tiny dry twigs from
a. nearby hornbeam. The leaves were
crumpled into ball. and over this
little tepee was built from twigs. Above
this were criss crossed layers OF beech
and black oak branches, and then, with
this structure as hub, was built
cedar, and white oak limbs, all of which
make a hot, clear flame and good Goals
for cooking.
When the fire was built at last to the
Friar's liking. he knelt down on the
windward side, match in hand 1t was
a. tense moment The match sputtered,
and Robin Hood anxiously watched
little tongue Of flame creep up through
the leaf ball to the dry twigs. 1t would
be unworthy of his fair fame to say
that he hoped that for once the tiny
flame would flicker and die out in dark
ness, and probably the sigh that he
heaved when the inner pyre Of twigs at
last turned into heart Of fire was one
Of relief rather than Of disappointment:
At any rate, five minutes later all
powers Of darkness fled for their lives
before the steady roaring column OF
smokeless flame that surged up IN
front Of the band.
1t would take the pen Of Froissart
to tell of the wassail and feastings
that followed. Great launches OF ven
ision broiled hissingly at the end Of
green ironwood spits. and tasted much
like mutton-chops. Flagons Of Adams
ale were quaffed and there was song
and story while the loving cup Git was
of the folding Variety passed from
hand to hand. Then as the fire died
down to the steady glow Of red am
bers the band moved in closer While
the Friar related freely, and without
undue modesty, divers adventures by
field and flood Thereafter Alan-a-Dale
recited sundry selection from the"Lay
OF the Last Minstrel" recently mem
orized after school as a penalty for
things i'll done and undone. 1t must
have been the tale of that wondrous
wizard Michael Scott and his book of
gramarie that started the Friar on a
fresh quest for renown. ....
Hist" he said impressively, and
heaved himself up beside the dying
fire. There was not a sound in the
sleeping forest. Night-folk, voolfolk,
water-folk, all were still Then from
the pursed lips of the Friar came a
long, wavering, mournful CALL Sad 1t
was, with a certain eerie wildness OF
quality like lonely wind shrilling at
midnight through quaint branches. A.
gain and again the sound shuddered
away across the neighboring hills.
Suddenly. so far away that at first 1t