CHAPTER XXVI. AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE .... 234

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OUNT PAWTUCKAWAY is the highest of three mountain peaks. Rearing its serried heights nearly a thousand feet above sea level, this rocky range is about as rugged a place as can be found in New England. At that time it was covered, wherever there was earth enough upon the rocks to support a shrub of any kind, by a forest of stunted pines, hemlocks, spruces, and cedars. But at frequent intervals the naked head of some granite cliff raised its gray crown into plain sight. Surrounding the heights at their base were forests of pines, divided at certain angles and corners by patches of white beeches, black maples, or walnuts. In the distance a silvery disc, glimmering above the tree-tops, marked the shores of a sheet of water.

The boys were tired, but they took hold with a hearty good-will to assist the Woodranger in preparing the evening meal, for they were hungry as well as weary. Generous portions of the venison had been reserved, and as soon as a fire had been kindled the forester was roasting goodly slices to an appetising brown.

At that season of the year evening comes on quickly after sunset, and as the five finished their camp meal, the last rays of daylight had faded from the mountain crags.

" You said, Woodranger," ventured Rob, during a lull in the conversation, " that there was a story connected with the naming of this mountain Pawtuckaway. We should like to hear it."

" There is an Indian legend, lad, which pretends to explain why it is called by the name you give, which means the place o' the big buck. I don't mind telling the tale, though mebbe it be but a bit o' fancy work cleverly wrought by the red man's cunning. The reds did have a knack o' weaving pretty consaits together, the better than the white man, perhaps, because he lived nearer to natur'.

"'Cording to the traditions o' the red man, this locality has always been a favourite stamping-ground for the brown deer. Among the many which lived hereabouts was a buck, bigger, fleeter o' foot, and more cunning than any o' his kind. So wide did his fame become that hunters came from afar to trail him down. But he had the knack o' outwitting his pursuers, none of whom were able to track him arter he had reached the side o' this mountain. So the simple red man kem to believe this buck possessed a charmed life.

" 'Mong the others that come and hunted in vain the cunning creatur' was the Pennacook brave, Kinkinnasett, the warrior o' the flying foot. He vowed by the stars that he'd run down the big buck or ne'er follow the trail ag'in. There was a girl mixed up in the 'fair, too, for Kinkinnasett loved an Indian maid, who was also beloved by another. But with sich coyness had she shown her favours that both warriors were hopeful. At last, to settle a matter that was beginning to stir bad blood, the maid said she would marry the one who would bring her the antlers o' this buck. Kinkinnasett and his rival at once set forth on a hunt which later became a legend among the red men, the bold and fiery relating it while the more timid held their breath. It was told to me by an old chief in a low tone, while he kept the camp-fire burning its brightest, for one and all believed that the foolish braves had angered the Great Spirit by their action.

" Kinkinnasett, so the story runs, was the one to start the big buck from its favourite haunt just below here. It was then about midday, and he at once gave chase. It was such a chase as Kinkinnasett had ne'er known, as no living red man had e'er taken. He had failed three times, with fair range, to bring down the buck with his far-flying arrows, and now he tried all the artifices known to him to entrap the wary creatur'. When he had given it chase for awhile, he paused to see if the hunted buck would stop to look back.

" Unlike the brown deer, many o' which he had run down 'twixt sun and sun, the star-eyed buck did not stop, — did not look back ! With his head thrown back on his shoulders, and his broad antlers cutting a path through the forest wherever he went, the very mountain resounding with his terrible tread, he bounded on and on, Kinkinnasett following as best he could. Once completely around the mountain did he pursue the buck, and, though he boasted o' the flying foot, he ne'er got any nearer the fugitive.

" From a high perch the rival Pennacook, Sagawa, the Fox, looked down on the failure o' his brother brave, and he resolved, notwithstanding'that he, by doing it, broke the true code o' hunters, to bring down the buck with the charmed life, or prove that it could not be done. Unknown to any one, he had that morning dipped his arrow in the oil o' the witch-hazel, and under sich incantations as to ensure it the power to pierce the spell that might be thrown o'er a common shaft.

" Seeing the buck finally coming near him, he poised his stout bow that was fitted with the arrow of cur'us power. The flying creatur' was just below him, when he sent the winged shaft on its deadly mission. Then his joy knew no bounds, as he saw the star-eyed buck o' the charmed life actually fall on his knees!

" Sure now o' his victim, if he could reach it before Kinkinnasett should come along, he leaned out over the rock, holding on by a shrub, so as to swing himself downward. Under his weight the bush parted from its frail support, and he was sent headlong toward the rocks below, to what seemed certain death. So thought Kinkinnasett, who had got near enough to see the accident to his rival. To his surprise, the warrior struck on the back of the crippled buck. Then, instead o' throwing off his burden, the wounded animal sprang upon its feet and bounded away, with Sagawa clinging to it!

" Not one whit slower did the buck flee, so Kinkinnasett was still obliged to do his utmost to keep in sight o' the wildest flight he had e'er seen.

" After going half-way around the mountain ag'in, and seeing that there was a chance to cut off the fleeing buck, Kinkinnasett climbed a spur o' rock, and let himself down right in the pathway o' the creatur'. It was a critical p'int, where a gulf o' a hundred feet opened at his feet, and, on the other hand, a sheer wall o' granite reached upward from a rocky shelf not more'n a gun-rod wide. Sure o' his game now, Kinkinnasett raised his bow for his last shot. Then the heels o' the buck rattled around his head, and he was flung back upon the narrow shelf o' rock, while the desperate animal, with Sagawa still on its back, leaped o'er the brink into the depths below! A terrific noise followed, and, with the sound of rushing water ringing in his ears, Kinkinnasett was left in darkness.

" A party o' Pennacooks, in search o' the missing warriors, found Kinkinnasett the next day, where the heels o' the star-eyed buck had sent him. It was seen that he must soon depart to the happy hunting-grounds, but he lived long enough to tell them o' the fate o' Sagawa and the strange buck. In the gorge, which had been dry before, a tempest o' boiling water was raging, the only evidence ever found o' Sagawa and the star-eyed buck. The reds have always believed that the pond is bottomless and that it would be death to the warrior who should be bold enough to go near it. So the tale ends in a tragedy, as most Indian tales do. It is natural they should, for their lives were tragedies in themselves."

"I have been to the pond," said Rob, "and an ugly place it is. A quaking bog encircles it, so one cannot very well get to the water. The first time I was there it was still enough, but the next it was boiling and tossing just as if there was a big fire under it."

"Ah, lad," said the Woodranger, "it is a onnatural spot, and I have no hankering to hang around it."

" But I should like to have seen the star-eyed buck," said Johnny. " Do you suppose it was bigger than a moose, Woodranger?"

"Scurcely, lad, scurcely. I opine the reds exaggerated in their descriptions. It was but human natur' for 'em to do it."

" Don't you suppose we could find a moose, Woodranger ?"

" We can find one pretty soon if we want to," replied the forester. " I have heerd the call o' a bull moose twice sence I was telling that Indian tale. It was fur away, but it is coming nearer."

" Then we can see one! Can't we stalk it, Woodranger ?"

Billy Stark asked this question, but he was scarcely more excited than his young companions.

" Nay, nay, lads! Calm yourselves. Stalking moose is dangerous bizness for youngsters, and I may be committing a sinful indiscretion in permitting it. You must promise me you will keep by me and do just as I say."

"We promise that, Woodranger. Lead the way!"

" Hush, lads ! it may not be the old fellow's whim to come any nearer, though it be a fine night for creeping. List, lads ! "

In answer to the Woodranger's request, the boys instantly became perfectly still, though their hearts beat with unwonted quickness, as they listened and waited. A perfect silence lay on the scene around them. After five minutes of this breathless stillness, when a strange feeling of oppression bound one and all, the dull, heavy cry of an owl came from the beech. It was actually a relief to hear it. Then, from far away, was borne faintly to their ears the plaintive, prolonged howl of a restless wolf. This was answered from another direction, soon succeeded by the scream of a wildcat not far distant. Again the uneasy owl broke forth with his glum tu whoot, tn whoot!"

These outcries, of nightly occurrence, had died away, and silence once more reigned, when a wild, peculiar sound filled the forest, ending more abruptly than it had begun, as if the creature giving it utterance had been suddenly checked in the midst of its cry. It seemed a sort of cross between a grunt and a roar, with a harsh, grating sound at the end. Appearing to open from a far distance, it ended apparently near at hand.