Harper's Round Table, April 28, 1896

THE APPRENTICESHIP OF ARTHUR.

BY FRANCIS STERNE PALMER.

One evening early in April two boys of about fifteen were talking together at the home of one of them in New York city. They were close friends as well as classmates in one of the largest schools for boys in the city. In a few days this school closed for the spring vacation.

George Corey, who was a stalwart, athletic fellow, was speaking. "How about the vacation, Arthur? Have you made any plans for spending it?"

"There are several works on chemistry that I want to read, and I think I'll give the two weeks up to them," said the other, somewhat wearily. He had a pale, intellectual face, and his languid movements were in strong contrast to his friend's healthy alertness.

George laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. "See here, Arthur, you'll kill yourself studying. I know it's fine in you to be ambitious and to work so, and some day you're going to be a great scientist and make us all proud of you. But you mustn't neglect your body altogether--'a healthy brain in a healthy body,' as some old philosopher says."

"But there are so many things one ought to learn," protested the other.

"Yes, and there are some things that can't be learned from books. Now I've a plan to propose to you. You know my uncle has a cottage at Chateaugay Lake in the Adirondacks; I've visited him several times in the autumn, and had a fine time. At this season, of course, there is no shooting; but there's the fishing, and, I dare say, plenty of other things to do. My uncle's there now for the salmon-trout fishing, and he writes to know if I want to spend my vacation with him; and what's more, he says I may ask a boy to go with me. Arthur, I want you to go."

At first Arthur could not reconcile himself to this disarrangement of his plans; but by the next afternoon, having consulted his family in the mean while, he was ready to go. Such an opportunity was not to be lost; moreover, he hoped to be so strong after his return that it would be easy to work harder and make up for lost time.

On a fine spring morning, two days later, the boys left the little narrow-gauge railroad at Lion Mountain, and were driven to the shore of Chateaugay Lake; there they were met by a boat of Mr. Corey's, and rowed to his cottage.

That afternoon and the next day they spent trolling for salmon-trout. Arthur enjoyed it; sitting quietly in the stern of a boat and being slowly rowed over the lake required no unpleasant exertion of the body. The fish did not "strike" often, and much of the time he could sit with closed eyes and dream. But George chafed under this inaction, and finally he took an old guide, Antoine Brusoe, into his confidence. "I want to have some camping out and tramping in the woods; and that's what my friend needs too."

"Ask your uncle to let me take you to Tamarack Lake. It's much wilder than this, an' there's good fishin'. If you want to tramp, you can go gummin'; that's about all that's goin' on at this season. An' if you don't want to keep the gum, you can give it to me; spruce gum's worth fifty cents a pound in Chateaugay village."

Tamarack Lake, or Pond, was little known and seldom visited; a dense growth of tamarack-trees on its shores gave it a gloomy, wild appearance. The friends and their guide reached it early in the afternoon, and Antoine at once set to work to repair a little bark "lean to" which he had built on a former visit.

That evening by the light of their fire Antoine made a "gumming-pole" for each; this, as Antoine made it, was a stout pole about eight feet long, to the end of which was firmly fastened a small coverless tin can. It was a simple instrument; but Antoine assured the boys that this was the best kind--much better than "the new-fangled poles you buy at the store."

He added, to encourage them, "Spring is when the gum breaks off easiest, an' we ought to get a big lot of it."

During the forenoon the boys staid near the camp, amusing themselves by fishing and by gathering gum from the spruce-trees growing near by.

A large brook ran into the lake, and in the afternoon they decided to follow this brook back into the woods. As long as they kept the stream in sight there was no danger of getting lost. They started off, each carrying a pole and having a gummer's bag slung from his shoulder. For an hour or more they pushed on together, gathering gum as they went. Finally they came to a place where the brook forked, and here they decided to separate, each taking a branch of the stream.

"We can't get lost as long as we keep by the brook, but don't go too far, for night comes on quickly in the woods," said George, as they parted.

Arthur went on alone very contentedly; he was beginning to enjoy the woods and appreciate them. As he followed up the brook he found himself in a rocky ravine, a wild place where the stream tumbled over great bowlders or--being swollen by the melting snows--spread into a pool. On the bank of one of these pools, which must have been eight or nine yards across and four or five feet deep, grew a tall hemlock. In the air near its upper branches two hawks were circling. At short intervals they screamed as if in anger and distress.

Arthur looked more carefully, and could now see their nest. His pleasure in the woods had put him in an unusually adventurous mood, and he decided, on the impulse of the moment, to try to secure some of the hawk's eggs; they would be interesting mementoes of his trip to the lake.

At first sight the tree seemed a difficult one to climb, for there were no branches within twenty feet of the ground, and the trunk was too large for him to clasp. But close to it grew a slender spruce, and Arthur, leaving his pole and sack on the ground, had no trouble in "shinning" up the smaller tree; it was then easy to transfer himself to the hemlock's lowest branches. Some distance below the hawk's nest a large branch stretched out from the trunk, and now, when Arthur looked up at this branch, he saw what he had before failed to notice; along it lay a plump little animal, gray in color, and about as big as a house cat two-thirds grown. It looked at him stupidly, and did not move.

He thought it might be a young raccoon, or perhaps an opossum--his knowledge of Adirondack animals was not very accurate--and as it seemed so dull and meek he thought he would try to capture it. Near him a partly dead limb stood out from the trunk; this, after some trouble, he was able to break off, and then had a stout club in case any weapon was needed. In the mean while the little animal watched him over the edge of the big branch, but did not move. Arthur was now about twenty feet from the ground, the animal being six or eight feet above him. Of a sudden it seemed to grow interested in what was going on below, and putting its head over the side of the branch, gave a low whine. Instantly there was an answering whine from the ground.

A grayish catlike animal about as large as a spaniel-dog was crouching at the foot of the hemlock; as it looked up Arthur could see its yellow eyes shine angrily. Its shape and size made him think it was a lynx; and the conviction flashed upon him that the little animal on the branch above was the kitten of the savage-looking creature on the ground below. He was separating mother from child, and it was evident from her grim expression that the old lynx meant to call him to account for interfering with her domestic affairs.

With a reassuring cry to her kitten, the lynx sprang from the ground and began slowly to climb up the trunk of the hemlock.

Below the branches on which Arthur was sitting was the section of the trunk, twenty feet in length, that rose from the ground free of any branch, so that there was no vantage-ground from which the lynx could spring upon him as she came crawling up. He drew up his legs, clutched the club firmly, and got ready to do his best to beat her back; at the same time he shouted as loudly as he could, hoping that George would hear him.

His shouts and pounding on the tree made the animal hesitate, and when she was eight or ten feet below him she flattened herself against the bark and clung there, glaring up at him. What seemed a long time to Arthur, but was probably not more than ten minutes, passed, and yet she did not move. He kept up an almost continual shouting, for he hoped, as the two branches of the brook joined each other at an acute angle, that George was not far distant. The strain on his nerves was making him faint. As the lynx eyed him, he recalled stories of cats that had alarmed and captured their victims merely by looking at them; he trembled violently, and his shouts became weaker and weaker.

It was a relief when, in answer to an especially plaintive cry from her kitten, the lynx gave a low whine and began to creep upward, growling defiance as she came. The spell was broken, and Arthur felt his strength return. He raised his club and leaned forward; as the animal's round head came within reach he struck it a heavy blow. With a scream of pain the lynx shrunk back, and began watching him as before; every minute or two she snarled and growled--evidently the blow she had received had not improved her temper.

Arthur had just begun, with renewed vigor, to shout again, when there was an answering shout, and George appeared, running towards him through the woods. For a moment his joy in seeing a friend and possible rescuer made the frightened boy forget everything else.

"Arthur! Arthur! Where are you, and what's the matter?" cried George.

"Here I am, up in this tree! And, oh, George, look out! there's a lynx on the trunk just below me!"

The warning came late. George was already on the bank of the pool, and only a few yards from the hemlock. The lynx saw him, and finding another enemy in her rear, she turned as if to attack him.

George had only the briefest instant in which to grasp the situation and act. He turned and sprang into the pool, and plunged to its centre; there he could barely touch bottom.

The animal did not follow; like all the cat tribe, a lynx dislikes and fears the water, and this one was daunted at the prospect of a fight in the hated element. She circled about the pool, looking for some way of reaching him without getting a wetting. Baffled on every side, she then crouched at the water's edge and screamed with rage. A whine from the hemlock made her remember the kitten. She turned and dashed up the tree; there was now no hesitation; she was enraged, and meant to revenge herself.

Her onslaught was so sudden that Arthur had no time for any preparation. In his panic and hasty excited effort to settle himself so that he could strike to advantage, the club slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. He cried out, and George saw what had happened. When the lynx reached him, Arthur used his feet so vigorously against her head that for a moment or two she was checked. He was screaming in a frenzy of terror.

"Help me, George!" he cried. "Help! help! help!"

It seemed almost like inviting certain death to attack the enraged animal when armed with no better weapon than his gumming-pole; but George could not resist his friend's agonized appeal for help. He rushed ashore and to the foot of the hemlock. From there he could just reach the animal's flank--she having recoiled a little before Arthur's desperate kicking--and he began to belabor it with the can on the end of his pole. The lynx partially turned, seeming to hesitate whether to charge the enemy above or to fling herself upon this new assailant.