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Updated: May 17, 2025
At the time it was simply amusing; it was not till years after that the lad realized by its effect on himself, its insight, and its hold on his memory, that Si Sylvanne's talk was real wisdom. Parts of it would not look well in print; but the rugged words, the uncouth Saxonism, the obscene phrase, were the mere oaken bucket in which the pure and precious waters were hauled to the surface.
Early next day the two hunters paddled up the Moose River with a good canoe, an outfit of groceries, and a small supply of ready cash. "Good-bye, lad, good-bye! Come back again and ye'll find we improve on acquaintance; an' don't forget I'm buying fur," was Si Sylvanne's last word.
All the rest were prisoners, and what to do with the despatches or how to get official instructions was now a deep problem. "When you don't know a thing to do, don't do a thing," was one of Si Sylvanne's axioms; also, "In case of doubt lay low and say nothing." Rolf hung around the town all day waiting for light. About noon a tall, straight, alert man in a buffalo coat drove up with a cutter.
"There; see that gray and white thing?" "I can't see him." For five minutes Rolf tried in vain to make his friend see that statuesque form; for five minutes it never moved. Then, sensing danger, the buck gave a bound and was lost to view. It was disheartening. Rolf sat down, nearly disgusted; then one of Sylvanne's remarks came to him: "It don't prove any one a fool, coz he can't play your game."
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