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The mother never before had noted what a frail and dangerous thing a canoe is. So Henry was embraced, Rolf was hand-shaken, Quonab was nodded at, Skookum was wisely let alone, and the trim canoe swung from the dock. Amid hearty cheers, farewells, and "God speed ye's" it breasted the flood for the North.
"But ask him what he said, Jimmy, and what he meant when he took hold of my arm." So spoke Emily Travis, and Jimmy put the question and received the answer. "Him say you no afraid," said Jimmy. Emily Travis looked pleased. "Him say you no skookum, no strong, all the same very soft like little baby. Him break you, in um two hands, to little pieces.
"Maybe! sometime before winter," said the Indian; "but now we should make another line of traps while the weather is fine." "No," replied the lad, "Skookum is not fit to travel now. We can't leave him behind, and we can make a storehouse in three days." The unhappy little dog was worse than ever. He could scarcely breathe, much less eat or drink, and the case was settled.
The slide improved with use and the otters seemed tireless; when all at once a loud but muffled yelp was heard and Skookum, forgetting all caution, came leaping down the bank to take a hand. With a succession of shrill, birdy chirps the old otters warned their young. Plump, plump, plump, all shot into the pool, but to reappear, swimming with heads out, for they were but slightly alarmed.
Hoag's torrent of bad language had been quickly checked by the threat of turning Skookum loose on his legs, and he looked such a grovelling beast that presently the visitors decided to leave him with a warning. The Indian took the trapper's gun, fired it off out of doors, not in the least perturbed by the possibility of its being heard by Hoag's partners. He knew they were imaginary.
Man, I was young myself once and Nan of the Sawdust Pile is not a woman a young man would look at once and go his way." In the southwestern corner of the state of Washington, nestled in the Bight of Tyee and straddling the Skookum River, lies the little sawmill town of Port Agnew.
Rolf turned to see the gigantic, angular form and kindly face of grizzly old Si Sylvanne and was still more surprised to hear him addressed "senator." "Yes," said the senator, "one o' them freak elections that sometimes hits right; great luck for Albany, wa'nt it?" "Ho," said Quonab, shaking the senator's hand, while Skookum looked puzzled and depressed.
"He's a chip of the old block!" cried another, and there were cheers and some tears and a general rush forward to greet the new master, to shake his hand, and pledge allegiance to him. When the reception was over, old Hector took charge of the homely games and athletic contests, and the day's delights culminated in a log-burling contest in the Skookum, in which the young laird participated.
The little creature was sitting up high on its hind legs, its belly muscles were working, its mouth was gaping as it poured out its music. For fully half a minute this went on, when Skookum made a dash; but the mouse was quick and it flashed into the safety of its cranny. Rolf gazed at Quonab inquiringly. "That is Mish-a-boh-quas, the singing mouse. He always comes to tell of war.
When night fell they had completed fifty traps, all told, and again they camped without shelter overhead. Next day Skookum was so much worse that they began to fear for his life. He had eaten nothing since the sad encounter. He could drink a little, so Rolf made a pot of soup, and when it was cool the poor doggie managed to swallow some of the liquid after half an hour's patient endeavour.
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