Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1924-02-21
Of Tale
Of the
|FLafmO0ds


the northumberland roof of a
squalid cabin could barely be seen
through the trees. A slow sternness
crawled into his eyes he dropped the
butt of the shotgun to the leaves !;
leaned upon it and stood staring
down at the road.
Gradually, as he stared, there grew
upon him the consciousness of an OUT
line of a single footprint at the other
side of the road-detached, alone, ap-
parently with no mark of any kind
leading either to it or from it. The
singular fact of it's seemingly perfect
isolation slowly reached him, and won
a place among the troop Of thoughts
that gripped him.
He studied 1t closely a moment,
grunted and then grinned.
Uncle Nick" he muttered. ''Heel
deepest-he's jumped-where from?"
He glanced at the other side of the
been to land leap just there and
after short search found where the
old mans boot had scraped the moss
a little in making the spring.
"Aimin' FIR that slab of sandstone"
he chuckled, his eyes losing a mite Of
their hardness, ''fell a bit shy and
landed in the soft dirt-mighty good
jump, at that, FIR man with eighty
odd years on is back"
STOPPING again over the Isolated
footprint, he examined it with closest
attention, trying at the same time to
call up all the lore of the trail that
the old ranger had taken such pride
| in teaching him-the wise and won
derful ways Of woodcraft that he had
taken an equal pride in learning,
until, next to Uncle Nick himself, he
was known to be the most skillful
woodsman along the Wabash. AS
he Iooked, a grass stem that had
been bent down and slightly hung in
the soil suddenly loosed and straight
ened.
"Hot trail, OF scoutmaster," he NUT
tered, in the half spoken soliloquy that
nature sometimes teaches her favor
| ties. "AJld there y'u go, pickin' yur
steps SOS t. hit the hard spots and
miss the soft ones"
A sudden thoughtfulness crossed his
face. 81 wonder why y'u're so p'tic'-
lar t. lrsde y'ur trail, though-there
amt DC Pottawattomies t. find it no
more. Mebbe the woods jist filed y'u
s. full sshis wonderful morning, like
| they have me, that y'u can't help
playin' while at the OF war game Of
the trail. Well, I'll play with y'u-
and rE run y'uN down b'fore the
shadow of the bluffs climbs out of tho
I crick."
After a searching glance in every
| direction, so keen and critical that II
appeared to handle with minuteness
every bush and tree within range Of
his eye, and a further moment spent
in sounding the woods for any false
note they might carry, he threw the
shotgun into the hollow of his well
arm and took up the trail.
| 1t led across the two or three rods
Of broken ground between the road
and the little stream, which, at that
point, sparkled along over a shallow
rifle. Once, as his old friend had
sprung from stone to stone in cross
ing, his boot had slipped and gone
into the water. After that every al
ternate stone on which he had
stepped, was still damp from the wet
boot.
jock had followed to a point well
within sight of Loge Beldens cabin
when, barely a hundred yards ahead,
he caught a glimpse of a man STEALING
from cover to cover-just a flash as
he fitted from one hazel thicket to
another, but that was enough. That
tall form, erect as an Indian, those
iron-gray locks, falling loosely from
under the quaint old cap of hand
dressed coonskin, could belong to but
! one man in the world Uncle Nick.
Jack instantly darted to cover and
began stalking the old ranger. Barely
fifty yards separated them when, as
he peeped from behind an oak, he saw
the old man steal out from dense
thicket of wild grape-vines, dart across
an open space and throw himself fiat
behind a decaying log.
Crawling up behind huge sugar
maple that stood barely more than a
rod from the log, Jack rose to his feet,
a grin spreading over his face as he
thought of the surprise he was about
to spring upon his old friend.
He was just bracing himself for the
rush when hand fell upon his shout
der, and, whirling with sudden startle-
ment, he found himself looking with
foolish vacancy into the quizzically
twinkling eyes of-Uncle Nick.
At sight of his young friends be-
wildered face the shoulders of the old
hunter shook with merriment, though
not sound passed his lips-the silent
laughter that long years in the woods,
when they were dangerous, had taught
him.
(To BE CoNTINUED)