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The Spirit of the Border-Part11_Zane Gray(1872-1939)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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knives, sheathed in heavy buckskin, and a bright tomahawk. He carried a long

rifle in the hollow of his arm.



"These hunters have the same kind of buckskin suits," continued Joe; "still,

it doesn't seem to me the clothes make the resemblance to each other. The way



these men stand, walk and act is what strikes me particularly, as in the case

of Wetzel."



"I know what you mean. The flashing eye, the erect poise of expectation, and

the springy step--those, my lad, come from a life spent in the woods. Well,



it's a grand way to live."

"Colonel, my horse is laid up," said Major McColloch, coming to the steps. He



bowed pleasantly to Joe.

"So you are going to Short Creek? You can have one of my horses; but first



come inside and we'll talk over you expedition."

The afternoon passed uneventfully for Joe. His brother and Mr. Wells were



absorbed in plans for their future work, and Nell and Kate were resting;

therefore he was forced to find such amusement or occupation as was possible



in or near the stockade.

Chapter IX.



Joe went to bed that night with a promise to himself to rise early next

morning, for he had been invited to take part in a "raising," which term meant



that a new cabin was to be erected, and such task was ever an event in the

lives of the settlers.



The following morning Joe rose early, dressing himself in a complete buckskin

suit, for which he had exchanged his good garments of cloth. Never before had



he felt so comfortable. He wanted to hop, skip and jump. The soft, undressed

buckskin was as warm and smooth as silk-plush; the weight so light, the



moccasins so well-fitting and springy, that he had to put himself under

considerable restraint to keep from capering about like a frolicsome colt.



The possession of this buckskin outfit, and the rifle and accouterments which

went with the bargain, marked the last stage in Joe's surrender to the border



fever. The silent, shaded glens, the mystery of the woods, the breath of this

wild, free life claimed him from this moment entirely and forever.



He met the others, however, with a serene face, showing no trace of the

emotion which welled up strongly from his heart. Nell glanced shyly at him;



Kate playfully voiced her admiration; Jim met him with a brotherly ridicule

which bespoke his affection as well as his amusement; but Colonel Zane, having



once yielded to the same burning, riotous craving for freedom which now

stirred in the boy's heart, understood, and felt warmly drawn toward the lad.



He said nothing, though as he watched Joe his eyes were grave and kind. In his

long frontier life, where many a day measured the life and fire of ordinary



years, he had seen lad after lad go down before this forest fever. It was

well, he thought, because the freedom of the soil depended on these wild,



light-footed boys; yet it always made him sad. How many youths, his brother

among them, lay under the fragrant pine-needle carpet of the forest, in their



last earthly sleep!

The "raising" brought out all the settlement--the women to look on and gossip,



while the children played; the men to bend their backs in the moving of the

heavy timbers. They celebrated the erection of a new cabin as a noteworthy



event. As a social function it had a prominent place in the settlers' short

list of pleasures.



Joe watched the proceeding with the same pleasure and surprise he had felt in

everything pertaining to border life.



To him this log-raising appeared the hardest kind of labor. Yet it was plain

these hardy men, these low-voiced women, and merry children regarded the work



as something far more significant than the mere building of a cabin. After a

while he understood the meaning of the scene. A kindred spirit, the spirit of



the pioneer, drew them all into one large family. This was another cabin;

another home; another advance toward the conquering of the wilderness, for



which these brave men and women were giving their lives. In the bright-eyed

children's glee, when they clapped their little hands at the mounting logs,



Joe saw the progress, the march of civilization.

"Well, I'm sorry you're to leave us to-night," remarked Colonel Zane to Joe,



as the young man came over to where he, his wife, and sister watched the work.

"Jonathan said all was ready for your departure at sundown."



"Do we travel by night?"

"Indeed, yes, my lad. There are Indians everywhere on the river. I think,



however, with Jack and Lew handling the paddles, you will slip by safely. The

plan is to keep along the south shore all night; then cross over at a place



called Girty's Point, where you are to remain in hiding during daylight. From

there you paddle up Yellow Creek; then portage across country to the head of



the Tuscarwawas. Another night's journey will then bring you to the Village of

Peace."



Jim and Mr. Wells, with his nieces, joined the party now, and all stood

watching as the last logs were put in place.






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