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Betty Zane-Part11_Zane Gray(1872-1939)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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Then he ran down Alfred's arm, sniffed in his coat sleeve, and finally wedged

a cold little nose between his closed fingers.



"There, he has found it, even though you did not play fair," said Betty,

laughing gaily.



Alfred never forgot the picture Betty made standing there with the red cap on

her dusky hair, and the loving smile upon her face as she talked to her pets.



A white fan-tail pigeon had alighted on her shoulder and was picking daintily

at the piece of cracker she held between her lips. The squirrels were all



sitting up, each with a nut in his little paws, and each with an alert and

cunning look in the corner of his eye, to prevent, no doubt, being surprised



out of a portion of his nut. Caesar was lying on all fours, growling and

tearing at his breakfast, while the dog looked on with a superior air, as if



he knew they would not have had any breakfast but for him.

"Are you fond of canoeing and fishing?" asked Betty, as they returned to the



house.

"Indeed I am. Isaac has taken me out on the river often. Canoeing may be



pleasant for a girl, but I never knew one who cared for fishing."

"Now you behold one. I love dear old Izaak Walton. Of course, you have read



his books?"

"I am ashamed to say I have not."



"And you say you are a fisherman? Well, you haste a great pleasure in store,

as well as an opportunity to learn something of the 'contemplative man's



recreation.' I shall lend you the books."

"I have not seen a book since I came to Fort Henry."



"I have a fine little library, and you are welcome to any of my books. But to

return to fishing. I love it, and yet I nearly always allow the fish to go



free. Sometimes I bring home a pretty sunfish, place him in a tub of water,

watch him and try to tame him. But I must admit failure. It is the association



which makes fishing so delightful. The canoe gliding down a swift stream, the

open air, the blue sky, the birds and trees and flowers--these are what I



love. Come and see my canoe."

Thus Betty rattled on as she led the way through the sitting-room and kitchen



to Colonel Zane's magazine and store-house which opened into the kitchen. This

little low-roofed hut contained a variety of things. Boxes, barrels and



farming implements filled one corner; packs of dried skins were piled against

the wall; some otter and fox pelts were stretched on the wall, and a number of



powder kegs lined a shelf. A slender canoe swung from ropes thrown over the

rafters. Alfred slipped it out of the loops and carried it outside.



The canoe was a superbspecimen of Indian handiwork. It had a length of

fourteen feet and was made of birch hark, stretched over a light framework of



basswood. The bow curved gracefully upward, ending in a carved image

representing a warrior's head. The sides were beautifully ornamented and



decorated in fanciful Indian designs.

"My brother's Indian guide, Tomepomehala, a Shawnee chief, made it for me. You



see this design on the bow. The arrow and the arm mean in Indian language,

'The race is to the swift and the strong.' The canoe is very light. See, I can



easily carry it," said Betty, lifting it from the grass.

She ran into the house and presently came out with two rods, a book and a



basket.

"These are Jack's rods. He cut them out of the heart of ten-year-old basswood



trees, so he says. We must be careful of them."

Alfred examined the rods with the eye of a connoisseur and pronounced them



perfect.

"These rods have been made by a lover of the art. Anyone with half an eye



could see that. What shall we use for bait?" he said.

"Sam got me some this morning."



"Did you expect to go?" asked Alfred, looking up in surprise.

"Yes, I intended going, and as you said you were coming over, I meant to ask



you to accompany me."

"That was kind of you."



"Where are you young people going?" called Colonel Zane, stopping in his task.

"We are going down to the sycamore," answered Betty.



"Very well. But be certain and stay on this side of the creek and do not go

out on the river," said the Colonel.



"Why, Eb, what do you mean? One might think Mr. Clarke and I were children,"

exclaimed Betty.



"You certainly aren't much more. But that is not my reason. Never mind the

reason. Do as I say or do not go," said Colonel Zane.



"All right, brother. I shall not forget," said Betty, soberly, looking at the

Colonel. He had not spoken in his usual teasing way, and she was at a loss to



understand him. "Come, Mr. Clarke, you carry the canoe and follow me down this

path and look sharp for roots and stones or you may trip."






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