Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1916-07-23


1Jump!" he cried.
The face and the lantern had fallen be-
hind, and it was as black as an abyss out
side. With mute prayer, David launched
himself much as he had seen the bags and
the boxes sent out. He fell with q thud
in soft blanket of snow. He looked up
in time to see the little missioner flying
out like curious gargoyle through the
door; The baggage-man's lantern waved,
the engineers whistle gave responding
screech, and the train whirred past
Not until the tail-light of the last coach
was receding like great red FREELY in the
gloom did David get up. Father Roland
was on his feet, and down the track came
lanterns on the run.
David was breathing deeply. There
was warmth in his body that was new to
him. 1t struck him all at once, as he
heard Father Roland crunching through
the snow, that he was experiencing an
entirely new phase Of life--a life he had
read about at times and dreamed of at
other times, but which he had never come
physically in contact with. He had no
time to ask himself whether he was enjoy
ing these new sensations-he felt only
the thrill of them as Thoreau and the
Indian came up with their lanterns
IN Thoreau himself, as he stood mo-
ment later in the glow of the lanterns,
was embodied the living, breathing spirit
of this new world into which David's leap
out Of the baggage-car had plunged him.
He was picturesquely of the wild. his face
darkly bearded; his ivory-white teeth
shining as he smiled welcome; his tri-
colored Hudson's Bay coat of wool with
its frivolous red fringes thrown open at
the throat; the bushy tail of his fisher
skin cap hanging over a shoulder-and
with these things his voice rafting forth
in French and half Indian his Joy that
Father Roland had arrived at last.
Behind him stood the Indian-dark,
shrouded, a bronze sphinx of mystery.
But his eyes shone as the little missioner
greeted him-shone so darby and SO full
of fire that for moment David was fasci-
mated by them. Then he was introduced.
Il am happy to meet you, m sieu, said
the Frenchman. The grip of his hand was
like Father Notwithstanding David
had never felt among his former friends.
1t was then that David made his first
break in the etiquette of the forests
fortunate one, as time proved. He did
not know that shaking hands with an
Indian was a matter of some formality;
and so, when Father Roland said, 4This
is Mukoki, who has been with me for
many years. David thrust out his fist.
Mukoki looked him straight in the eyes
for moment, and then his blanket-coat
parted and his slim, dark hand reached
out. Having received his lesson from both
the missioner and the Frenchman, David
put into his grip all the strength that was
in him-the warmest hand-shake Mukoki
had ever received in his life from white
man, with the exception Of his master.
The next thing David heard was Father
Roland's voice inquiring about supper.
Thoreau's reply was in French.
"He says the cabin is like the inside Of
great roast duck chuckled the mis-
sioner. Come, David. Wen leave Mu-
koki to gather up our freight
A SHORT walk up the track. and David
: saw the cabin. 1t was back in the
shelter of the black spruce and balsam,
its two windows that faced the railroad