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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Ye seem to waste a powerful lot o' time goin' up an' down to yer camp; why don't ye stay thayer altogether?" said Raften one day, in the colourless style that always worried every one, for they did not know whether it was really meant or was mere sarcasm. "Suits me. 'Tain't our choice to come home," replied his son. "We'd like nothing better than to sleep there, too," said Yan.
Then Raften stepped into view, loud-voiced, externally coarse, but blessed with a good heart and a sound head. The farmer suffered sadly in contrast with the father, and yet Yan had to suppress the wish that Raften were his father. What had they in common? Nothing; and yet Raften had given him two of the dearest things in life.
Sam looked at Yan and Yan looked at Sam, then glanced at Guy, made some perfectly diabolical signs, seized each a long knife and sprung toward the Third War Chief, but he dodged behind Raften and commenced his usual "Now you let me 'lone " Raften's eye twinkled. "Shure, I thought ye was all wan Tribe an' paceable." "We've got to suppress crime," retorted his son.
Tain't half as big as that there big Woodchuck I killed, an' you never would have got him if I hadn't thought of the axe." Yan thought it would weigh thirty-five pounds. While they were thus talking the Dog broke into an angry barking such as he gave for strangers his "human voice," Caleb called it and at once there stepped into the circle William Raften.
Still old Grizzly kept on stuffing himself with clover and watching toward the Raften woods. The boys became intensely excited. Guy could see them, but not the Woodchuck. They pointed and gesticulated. Guy thought that meant "Now shoot." He got up cautiously. The Woodchuck saw him and bounded straight for its den that is, toward Guy. Guy fired wildly.
He was greatly astonished at the procession, for he knew nothing of the day's events, and fearfully disappointed he was on learning what he had missed. Caleb still looked white and sick when they got him to the fire, and Raften said, "Sam, go home and get your mother to give you a little brandy." "You don't need to go so far," said Yan, "for that fellow has a bottle in his pocket."
"Pretty near twenty years, I should say." "Well, look at that now," whispered the Woodpecker. Raften looked and got quite a thrill for the dummy, half hidden in the thicket, looked much like a real deer. "Don't you want to try a shot?" ventured Yan. Raften took the bow and arrow and made such a poor showing that he returned them with the remark.
This White-man's Woodcraft was easy for him, and he volunteered to teach the other Indians, but they thought it looked "too much like school." They voted him a coup on finding how well he could do it. But when Raften heard of it he exclaimed in wonder and admiration, "My, but that's mightiful!" and would not be satisfied till the coup was made a grand coup.
"Dentists don't have to figger on ilecloth." "Say, Yan," said Sam aside, "guess you better tackle Da about the dam. Kind o' sot up about ye this mornin'; your eddication has softened him some, an' it'll last till about noon, I jedge. Strike while the iron is hot." So after breakfast Yan commenced: "Mr. Raften, the creek's running dry.
Bread and butter enough they were to take with them eggs, too. "You better come home for milk every day or every other day, at least," remarked the mother. "We'd ruther steal it from the cows in the pasture," ventured Sam, "seems naturaler to me Injun blood." "If I ketch ye foolin' round the cows or sp'ilin' them the fur'll fly," growled Raften.
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