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until all were served； and Master Peck cried out：
〃Ho； Quonab！ what have ye got for trade to…day？〃
Quonab produced his furs。 The dealer looked at them
narrowly and said：
〃They are too late in the season for primes； I cannot
allow you more than seven cents each for the rats and
seventy…five cents for the mink； all trade。〃
The Indian gathered up the bundle with an air of 〃that
settles it；〃 when Silas called out：
〃Come now； I'll make it ten cents for the rats。〃
〃Ten cents for rats； one dollar for mink； all cash； then
I buy what I like；〃 was the reply。
It was very necessary to Silas's peace that no customer
of his should cross the street to the sign；
SILAS MEAD
Trading Store
So the bargain； a fair one now； was made； and the Indian
went off with a stock of tobacco； tea； and sugar。
His way lay up the Myanos River； as he had one or two
traps set along the banks for muskrats； although in constant
danger of having them robbed or stolen by boys； who
considered this an encroachment on their trapping grounds。
After an hour he came to Dumpling Pond； then set out
for his home； straight through the woods； till he reached
the Catrock line； and following that came to the farm and
ramshackle house of Micky Kittering。 He had been told
that the man at this farm had a fresh deer hide for sale；
and hoping to secure it； Quonab walked up toward the
house。 Micky was coming from the barn when he saw
the Indian。 They recognized each other at a glance。
That was enough for Quonab； he turned away。 The
farmer remembered that he had been 〃insulted。〃 He
vomited a few oaths； and strode after the Indian； 〃To
take it out of his hide〃； his purpose was very clear。 The
Indian turned quickly； stood； and looked calmly at Michael。
Some men do not know the difference between shyness
and cowardice； but they are apt to find it out unexpectedly
Something told the white man； 〃Beware！ this red man is
dangerous。〃 He muttered something about； 〃Get out
of that； or I'll send for a constable。〃 The Indian stood
gazing coldly； till the farmer backed off out of sight； then
he himself turned away to the woods。
Kittering was not a lovely character。 He claimed to
have been a soldier。 He certainly looked the part； for
his fierce white moustache was curled up like horns on his
purple face； at each side of his red nose； in a most milita
style。 His shoulders were square and his gait was
swaggering； beside which； he had an array of swear words that
was new and tremendously impressive in Connecticut。 He
had married late in life a woman who would have made him
a good wife； had he allowed her。 But； a drunkard himself
he set deliberately about bringing his wife to his own ways
and with most lamentable success。 They had had no
children； but some months before a brother's child；
fifteen…year…old lad； had become a charge on their hands
and； with any measure of good management； would have
been a blessing to all。 But Micky had gone too far。 His
original weak good…nature was foundered in rum。 Always
blustery and frothy； he divided the world in two
superior officers； before whom he grovelled； and inferiors
to whom he was a mouthy； foul…tongued； contemptible
bully； in spite of a certain lingering kindness of heart that
showed itself at such rare times when he was neither
roaring drunk nor crucified by black reaction。 His
brother's child； fortunately； had inherited little of the
paternal family traits； but in both body and brain favoured
his mother； the daughter of a learned divine who had spent
unusual pains on her book education； but had left her
penniless and incapable of changing that condition。
Her purely mental powers and peculiarities were such
that； a hundred years before； she might have been burned
for a witch； and fifty years later might have been honoured
as a prophetess。 But she missed the crest of the wave
both ways and fell in the trough； her views on religious
matters procured neither a witch's grave nor a prophet's
crown； but a sort of village contempt。
The Bible was her standard so far so good but
she emphasized the wrong parts of it。 Instead of
magnifying the damnation of those who follow not the truth （as
the village understood it）； she was content to semi…quote：
〃Those that are not against me are with me；〃 and
〃A kind heart is the mark of His chosen。〃 And then
she made a final utterance； an echo really of her father：
〃If any man do anything sincerely； believing that thereby
he is worshipping God； he is worshipping God。〃
Then her fate was sealed； and all who marked the blazing
eyes； the hollow cheeks； the yet more hollow chest and
cough； saw in it all the hand of an offended God destroying
a blasphemer； and shook their heads knowingly when
the end came。
So Rolf was left alone in life； with a common school
education； a thorough knowledge of the Bible and of
〃Robinson Crusoe；〃 a vague tradition of God everywhere；
and a deep distrust of those who should have been his
own people。
The day of the little funeral he left the village of Redding
to tramp over the unknown road to the unknown south
where his almost unknown Uncle Michael had a farm and；
possibly； a home for him。
Fifteen miles that day； a night's rest in a barn； twenty…
five miles the next day； and Rolf had found his future
home。
〃Come in； lad；〃 was the not unfriendly reception； for
his arrival was happily fallen on a brief spell of good
humour； and a strong； fifteen…year…old boy is a distinct
asset on a farm。
Chapter 3。 Rolf Catches a Coon and Finds a Friend
Aunt Prue； sharp…eyed and red…nosed； was
actually shy at first； but all formality vanished
as Rolf was taught the mysteries of pig…feeding；
hen…feeding； calf…feeding； cow…milking； and launched by list
only in a vast number of duties familiar to him from his
babyhood。 What a list there was。 An outsider might
have wondered if Aunt Prue was saving anything for herself；
but Rolf was used to toil。 He worked without ceasing
and did his best； only to learn in time that the best could
win no praise； only avert punishment。 The spells of good
nature arrived more seldom in his uncle's heart。 His
aunt was a drunken shrew and soon Rolf looked on the
days of starving and physical misery with his mother as
the days of his happy youth gone by。
He was usually too tired at night and too sleepy in the
morning to say his prayers； and gradually he gave it up
as a daily habit。 The more he saw of his kinsfolk； the
more wickedness came to view； and yet it was with a
shock that he one day realized that some fowls his uncle
brought home by night were there without the owner's
knowledge or consent。 Micky made a jest of it； and
intimated that Rolf would have to 〃learn to do night work
very soon。〃 This was only one of the many things that
showed how evil a place was now the orphan's home。
At first it was not clear to the valiant uncle whether the
silent boy was a superior to be feared； or an inferior to be
held in fear； but Mick's courage grew with non…resistance；
and blows became frequent； although not harder to bear
than the perpetual fault…finding and scolding of his aunt；
and all the good his mother had implanted was being
shrivelled by the fires of his daily life。
Rolf had no chance to seek for companions at the
village store； but an accident brought one to him。
Before sunrise one spring morning he went； as usual；
to the wood lot pasture for the cow； and was surprised to
find a stranger； who beckoned him to come。 On going
near he saw a tall man with dark skin and straight black
hair that was streaked with gray undoubtedly an Indian。
He held up a bag and said； 〃I got coon in that hole。 You
hold bag there； I poke him in。〃 Rolf took the sack
readily and held it over the hole； while the Indian climbed
the tree to a higher opening； then poked in this with a long
pole； till all at once there was a scrambling noise and the
bag bulged full and heavy。 Rolf closed its mouth
triumphantly。 The Indian laughed lightly； then swung to the
ground。
〃Now； what will you do with him？〃 asked Rolf。
〃Train coon dog；〃 was the answer。
〃Where？〃
The Indian pointed toward the Asamuk Pond。
〃Are you the singing Indian that lives under Ab's Rock？
〃Ugh！* Some call me that。 My name is Quonab。〃
〃Wait for an hour and then I will come and help；〃
volunteered Rolf impulsively； for the hunting instinct was
strong in him。
The Indian nodded。 〃Give three yelps if you no find
me；〃 then he shouldered a short stick； from one end of
which； at a safe distance from his back； hung the bag with
the coon。 And Rolf went home with the cow。
He had acted on hasty impulse in offering to come； but
now； in the normal storm state of the household； the
difficulties of the course appeared。 H