Anonymous - "History of Steam on the Erie Canal"

Francis Hodgson Burnett - "A Fair Barbarian"

Various - "R. Caldecott's First Collection of Pictures and Songs"

Andrew Lang - "Myth, Ritual, and Religion, Vol. 1"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Pluck on the Long Trail

E >> Edwin L. Sabin >> Pluck on the Long Trail




"Well," said General Ashley, doubtfully, "we'll take a vote."

We all drew off to one side, and sat in council. It seemed to me that we
might as well let them in. That would be doing them a good turn, and we
might help them to be clean and straight and obey the laws. Boys who
seem mean as dirt, to begin with, often are turned into fine Scouts.

"Now we'll all vote just as we feel about it," said General Ashley. "One
black-ball will keep them out. 'N' means 'No'; 'Y' means 'Yes.'"

The vote was taken by writing with a pencil on bits of paper, and the
bits were put into General Ashley's hat. Everything was "Y"--and the
vote was unanimous to let them join. So everybody must have felt the
same about it as I did.

General Ashley reported to them. "You can come along," he said; "but
you've got to be under discipline, the same as the rest of us. And if
you prove to be Scouts' stuff you can be sworn in later. But I'm only a
Patrol leader and I can't swear you."

"Sure!" they cried. "We'll be under discipline. Who's the boss? You?"

We had made a mistake. Here started our trouble. But we didn't know. We
thought that we were doing the right thing by giving them a chance. You
never can tell.

They volunteered to wash the dishes, and went at it; and we let them
throw their blankets and whatever else they wanted to get rid of in with
the packs. We were late; and anyway we didn't think it was best to start
in fussing and disciplining; they would see how Scouts did, and perhaps
they would catch on that way. Only--

"You'll have to cut that out," ordered General Ashley, as we were ready
to set out. He meant their pipes. They had stuck them in their mouths
and had lighted them.

"What? Can't we hit the pipe?" they both cried.

"Not with us," declared the general. "It's against the regulations."

"Aw, gee!" they complained. "That's the best part of camping--to load up
the old pipe."

"Not for a Scout. He likes fresh air," answered General Ashley. "He
needs his wind, too, and smoking takes the wind. Anyway, we're traveling
through the enemy's country, and a pipe smells, and it's against Scout
regulations to smoke."

They stuffed their pipes into their pockets.

"Who's the enemy?" they asked.

"We're carrying a message and some other boys are trying to stop us.
That's all."

"We saw some kids, on the other side of that ridge," they cried.
"They're from the same town you are. Are they the ones?"

"What did they look like?" we asked.

"One was a big kid with black eyes--" said Bat.

"Aw, he wasn't big. The big kid had blue eyes," interrupted Walt.

"How many in the party?" we asked.

"Four," said Bat.

"Five," said Walt.

"Any horses?"

"Yes."

"What were the brands?"

"We didn't notice," they said.

"Was one horse a bay with a white nose, and another a black with a bob
tail?"

"Guess so," they said.

So we didn't know much more than we did before; we could only suspect.
Of course, there were other parties of boys camping, in this country. We
weren't the only ones. If Bat and Walt had been a little smart they
might have helped us. They didn't use their eyes.

We followed the ridge we were on, as far as we could, because it was
high and free from brush. General Ashley and Major Henry led, as usual,
with the burros behind (those burros would follow now like dogs, where
there wasn't any trail for them to pick out), and then the rest of us,
the two recruits panting in the rear. Bat had belted on his big
six-shooter, and Walt carried the shotgun.

We traveled fast, as usual, when we could; that gave us more time in the
bad places. Pilot Peak stuck up, beyond some hills, ahead. We kept an
eye on him, for he was our landmark, now that we had broken loose from
trails. He didn't seem any nearer than he was the day before.

The ridge ended in a point, beyond which was a broad pasture-like
meadow, with the creek winding in a semicircle through it. On across was
a steep range of timber hills--and Pilot Peak and some other peaks rose
beyond, with snow and rocks. In the flat a few cattle were grazing, like
buffalo, and we could see an abandoned cabin which might have been a
trapper's shack. It was a great scene; so free and peaceful and wild and
gentle at the same time.

We weren't tired, but we halted by the stream in the flat to rest the
burros and to eat something. We took off the packs, and built a little
fire of dry sage, and made tea, while Sally and Apache took a good roll
and then grazed on weeds and flowers and everything. This was fine,
here in the sunshine, with the blue sky over and the timber sloping up
on all sides, and the stream singing.

After we had eaten some bread and drunk some tea we Scouts rested, to
digest; but Bat and Walt the two recruits loafed off, down the creek,
and when they got away a little we could see them smoking. On top of
that, they hadn't washed the dishes. So I washed them.

After a while they came back on the run, but they weren't smoking now.
"Say!" they cried, excited. "We found some deer-tracks. Let's camp back
on the edge of the timber, and to-night when the deer come down to drink
we'll get one!"

That was as bad as shooting grouse. It wasn't deer season. They didn't
seem to understand.

"Against the law," said General Ashley. "And we're on the march, to go
through as quick as we can. It's time to pack."

"I'll pack one of those burros. I'll show you how," offered Bat. So we
let them go ahead, because they might know more than we. They led up
Sally, while Major Henry and Jed Smith and Kit Carson began to pack
Apache. The recruits threw on the pack, all right, and passed the rope;
but Sally moved because they were so rough, and Bat swore and kicked her
in the stomach.

"Get around there!" he said.

"Here! You quit that," scolded Fitzpatrick, first. "That's no way to
treat an animal." He was angry; we all were angry. (Note 29.)

"It's the way to treat this animal," retorted Bat. "I'll kick her head
off if she doesn't stand still. See?"

"No, you won't," warned General Ashley.

"If you can pack a burro so well, pack her yourself, then," answered
Walt.

"Fitzpatrick, you and Jim Bridger help me with Sally," ordered the
general; and we did. We threw the diamond hitch in a jiffy and the pack
stuck on as if it were glued fast.

The two recruits didn't have much more to say; but when we took up the
march again they sort of sulked along, behind. We thought best to follow
up the creek, through the flat, instead of making a straight climb of
the timber beyond. That would have been hard work, and slow work, and
you can travel a mile in the open in less time than you can travel half
a mile through brush.

A cattle trail led up through the flat. This flat closed, and then
opened by a little pass into another flat. We saw plenty of tracks where
deer had come down to the creek and had drunk. There were tracks of
bucks, and of does and of fawns. Walt and Bat kept grumbling and
talking. They wanted to stop off and camp, and shoot.

Pilot Peak was still on our left; but toward evening the trail we were
following turned off from the creek and climbed through gooseberry and
thimbleberry bushes to the top of a plateau, where was a park of cedars
and flowers, and where was a spring. General Ashley dug in with his
heel, and we off-packs, to camp. It was a mighty good camping spot,
again. (Note 30.) The timber thickened, beyond, and there was no sense
in going on into it, for the night. Into the heel mark we stuck the
flagstaff.

We went right ahead with our routine. The recruits had a chance to help,
if they wanted to. But they loafed. There was plenty of time before
sunset. The sun shone here half an hour or more longer than down below.
We were up pretty high; some of the aspens had turned yellow, showing
that there had been a frost, already. So we thought that we must be up
about ten thousand feet. The stream we followed had flowed swift,
telling of a steep grade.

Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand got out his camera, to take pictures. He never
wasted any time. Not ordinary camp pictures, you know, but valuable
pictures, of animals and sunsets and things. Jays and speckled
woodpeckers were hopping about, and a pine-squirrel sat on a limb and
scolded at us until he found that we were there to fit in and be company
for him. One side of the plateau fell off into rocks and cliffs, and a
big red ground-hog was lying out on a shelf in the sunset, and
whistling his call.

Fitz was bound to have a picture of him, and sneaked around, to stalk
him and snap him, close. But just as he was started--"Bang!" I jumped
three feet; we all jumped. It was that fellow Bat. He had shot off his
forty-five Colt's, at the squirrel, and with it smoking in his hand he
was grinning, as if he had played a joke on us. He hadn't hit the
squirrel, but it had disappeared. The ground-hog disappeared, the jays
and the woodpeckers flew off, and after the report died away you
couldn't hear a sound or see an animal. The gun had given notice to the
wild life to vacate, until we were gone. And where that bullet hit,
nobody could tell.

Fitzpatrick turned around and came back. He knew it wasn't much use
trying, now. We were disgusted, but General Ashley was the one to speak,
because he was Patrol leader.

"You ought not to do that. Shooting around camp isn't allowed," he said.
"It's dangerous, and it scares things away."

"I wanted that squirrel. I almost hit him, too," answered Bat.

"Well, he was protected by camp law." (Note 31.)

"Aw, all you kids are too fresh," put in Walt, the other. "We'll shoot
as much as we please, or else we'll pull out."

"If you can't do as the rest of us do, all right: pull," answered the
general.

"Let them. We don't want them," said Major Henry. "We didn't ask them in
the first place. What's the sense in carrying a big revolver around, and
playing tough!"

"That will do, Henry," answered the general. "I'm talking for the
Patrol."

"Come on, Walt. We'll take our stuff and pull out and make our own
camp," said Bat. "We won't be bossed by any red-headed kid--or any
one-armed kid, either." He was referring to the gun and to the burro
packing, both.

Major Henry began to sputter and growl. A black-eyed boy is as spunky as
a red-headed one. And we all stood up, ready, if there was to be a
fight. But there wasn't. It wasn't necessary. General Ashley flushed
considerably, but he kept his temper.

"That's all right," he said. "If you can't obey discipline, like the
rest, you don't camp with us."

"And we don't intend to, you bet," retorted Walt. "We're as good as you
are and a little better, maybe. We're no tenderfeet!"

They gathered their blankets and their frying-pan and other outfit, and
they stalked off about a hundred yards, further into the cedars, and
dumped their things for their own camp.

Maybe they thought that we'd try to make them get out entirely, but we
didn't own the place; it was a free camp for all, and as long as they
didn't interfere with us we had no right to interfere with them. We made
our fire and they started theirs; and then I was sent out to hunt for
meat again.

I headed away from camp, and I got one rabbit and a great big
ground-hog. Some people won't eat ground-hog, but they don't know what
is good; only, he must be cleaned right away. Well, I was almost at camp
again when "Whish! Bang!" somebody had shot and had spattered all around
me, stinging my ear and rapping me on the coat and putting a couple of
holes in my hat. I dropped flat, in a hurry.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Look out there! What you doing?"

But it was "Bang!" again, and more shot whizzing by; this time none hit
me. Now I ran and sat behind a rock. And after a while I made for camp,
and I was glad to reach it.

I was still some stirred up about being peppered, and so I went straight
to the other fire. The two fellows were there cleaning a couple of
squirrels.

"Who shot them?" I asked.

"Walt."

"And he nearly filled me full of holes, too," I said. "Look at my hat."

"Who nearly filled you full of holes?" asked Walt.

"You did."

"Aw, I didn't, either. I wasn't anywhere near you."

"You were, too," I answered, hot. "You shot right down over the hill,
and when I yelled at you, you shot again."

Walt was well scared.

"'Twasn't me," he said. "I saw you start out and I went opposite."

"Well, you ought to be careful, shooting in the direction of camp," I
said.

"Didn't hurt you."

"It might have put my eyes out, just the same." And I had to go back and
clean my game and gun. We had a good supper. The other fellows kept to
their own camp and we could smell them smoking cigarettes. With them
close, and with news that another crowd was out, we were obliged to
mount night guard.

There was no use in two of us staying awake at the same time, and we
divided the night into four watches--eight to eleven, eleven to one, one
to three, three to five. The first watch was longest, because it was the
easiest watch. We drew lots for the partners who would sleep all night,
and Jed Smith and Major Henry found they wouldn't have to watch. We four
others would.

Fitz went on guard first, from eight to eleven. At eleven he would wake
Carson, and would crawl into Carson's place beside of General Ashley.
At one Carson would wake me, and would crawl into my place where I was
alone. And at three I would wake General Ashley and crawl into his place
beside Fitz again. So we would disturb each other just as little as
possible and only at long intervals. (Note 32.)

It seemed to me that I had the worst watch of all--from one to three; it
broke my night right in two. Of course a Scout takes what duty comes,
and says nothing. But jiminy, I was sleepy when Carson woke me and I had
to stagger out into the dark and the cold. He cuddled down in a hurry
into my warm nest and there I was, on guard over the sleeping camp, here
in the timber far away from lights or houses or people.

The fire was out, but I could see by star shine. Low in the west was a
half moon, just sinking behind the mountains there. Down in the flat
which we had left coyotes were barking. Maybe they smelled fawns.
Somebody was snoring. That was fatty Jed Smith. He and Major Henry were
having a fine sleep. So were all the rest, under the whity tarps which
looked ghostly and queer.

And I went to sleep, too!

That was awful, for a Scout on guard. I don't know why I couldn't keep
awake, but I couldn't. I tried every way. I rubbed my eyes, and I dipped
water out of the spring and washed my face, and I dropped the blanket I
was wearing, so that I would be cold. And I walked in a circle. Then I
thought that maybe if I sat down with the blanket about me, I would be
better off. So I sat down. If I could let my eyes close for just a
second, to rest them, I would be all right. And they did close--and when
I opened them I was sort of toppled over against the tree, and was stiff
and astonished--and it was broad morning and I hadn't wakened General
Ashley!

I staggered up as quick as I could. I looked around. Things seemed to be
O. K. and quiet and peaceful--but suddenly I missed the flags, and then
I missed the burros!

Yes, sir! The flagstaff was gone, leaving the hole where it had been
stuck. And the burros were gone, picket ropes and all! The place where
they ought to be appeared mighty vacant. And now I sure was frightened.
I hustled to the camp of the two boys, Bat and Walt, and they were gone.
That looked bad.

My duty now was to arouse our camp and give the alarm, so I must wake
General Ashley. You can imagine how I hated to. I almost was sore
because he hadn't waked up, himself, at three o'clock, instead of
waiting for me and letting me sleep.

But I shook him, and he sat up, blinking. I saluted. "It's after four
o'clock," I reported, "and I slept on guard and the flags and the burros
are gone." And then I wanted to cry, but I didn't.




CHAPTER VII

HELD BY THE ENEMY


"Oh, the dickens!" stammered General Ashley; and out he rolled, in a
hurry. He didn't stop to blame me. "Have you looked for sign?"

"The burros might have strayed, but the flags couldn't and only the hole
is there. And those two fellows of the other camp are gone, already."

General Ashley began to pull on his shoes and lace them.

"Rouse the camp," he ordered.

So I did. And to every one I said: "I slept on guard and the flags and
the burros are gone."

I was willing to be shot, or discharged, or anything; and I didn't have
a single solitary excuse. I didn't try to think one up.

The general took Fitzpatrick, who is our best trailer, and Major Henry,
and started in to work out the sign, while the rest of us hustled with
breakfast. The ground about the flag hole was trampled and not much
could be done there; and not much could be done right where the burros
had stood, because we all from both camps had been roaming around. But
the general and Fitz and Major Henry circled, wider and wider, watching
out for burro tracks pointing back down the trail, or else out into the
timber. The hoofs of the burros would cut in, where the feet of the two
fellows might not have left any mark. Pretty soon the burro tracks were
found, and boot-heels, too; and while Fitzpatrick followed the trail a
little farther the general and Major Henry came back to the camp.
Breakfast was ready.

"Fitzpatrick and Jim Bridger and I will take the trail of the burros,
and you other three stay here," said General Ashley. "If we don't come
back by morning, or if you don't see smoke-signals from us that we're
all right, you cache the stuff and come after us."

That was splendid of the general to give me a chance to make good on the
trail. It was better than if he'd ordered me close in camp, or had not
paid any attention to me.

Fitz returned, puffing. He had followed the trail a quarter of a mile
and it grew plainer as the two fellows had hurried more. We ate a big
breakfast (we three especially, I mean), and prepared for the trail. We
tied on our coats in a roll like blankets, but we took no blankets, for
we must travel light. We stuffed some bread and chocolate into our coat
pockets, and we were certain that we had matches and knife. I took the
short bow and arrows, as game getter; but we left the rifle for the
camp. We would not have used a rifle, anyway. It made noise; and we must
get the burros by Scoutcraft alone. But those burros we would have, and
the flags. The general slung one of the Patrol's ropes about him, in
case we had to rope the burros.

We set right out, Fitzpatrick leading, as chief trailer. Much depended
upon our speed, and that is why we traveled light; for you never can
follow a trail as fast as it was made, and we must overtake those
fellows by traveling longer. They were handicapped by the burros,
though, which helped us.

We planned to keep going, and eat on the march, and by night sneak on
the camp.

The trail wasn't hard to follow. Burro tracks are different from cow
tracks and horse tracks and deer tracks; they are small and
oblong--narrow like a colt's hoof squeezed together or like little mule
tracks. The two fellows used the cattle trail, and Fitzpatrick read the
sign for us.

"They had to lead the burros," he said. "The burros' tracks are on top
of the sole tracks."

We hurried. And then--

"Now they're driving 'em," he said. "They're stepping on top of the
burro tracks; and I think that they're all on the trot, too, by the way
the burros' hind hoofs overlap the front hoofs, and dig in."

We hurried more, at Scout pace, which is trotting and walking mixed. And
next--

"Now they've got on the burros," said Fitz. "There aren't any sole
tracks and the burros' hoofs dig deeper."

The fellows surely were making time. I could imagine how they kicked and
licked Sally and Apache, to hasten. And while we hastened, too, we must
watch the signs and be cautious that we didn't overrun or get ambushed.
Where the sun shone we could tell that the sign was still an hour or
more old, because the edges of the hoof-marks were baked hard; and
sticks and stones turned up had dried. And in the shade the bits of
needles and grass stepped on had straightened a little. And there were
other signs, but we chose those which we could read the quickest. (Note
33.)

We were high up among cedars and bushes, on a big mesa. There were
cattle, here, and grassy parks for them. Most of the cattle bore a Big W
brand. The trail the cattle had made kept dividing and petering out, and
we had to pick the one that the burros took. The fellows were riding,
still, but not at a trot so much. Maybe they thought that we had been
left, by this time. Pretty soon the burros had been grabbing at branches
and weeds, which showed that they were going slower, and were hungry;
and the fellows had got off and were walking. The sun was high and the
air was dry, so that the signs were not so easy to read, and we went
slower, too. The country up here grew open and rocky, and at last we
lost the trail altogether. That was bad. The general and I circled and
scouted, at the sides, and Fitz went on ahead, to pick it up beyond,
maybe. Pretty soon we heard him whistle the Elks' call.

He had come out upon a rocky point. The timber ended, and before and
right and left was a great rolling valley, of short grasses and just a
few scattered trees, with long slopes holding it like a cup. The sun was
shining down, and the air was clear and quivery.

"I see them," said Fitz. "There they are, General--in a line between us
and that other point of rocks."

Hurrah! This was great news. Sure enough, when we had bent low and
sneaked to the rocks, and were looking, we could make out two specks
creeping up the sunshine slope, among the few trees, opposite.

That was good, and it was bad. The thieves were not a mile ahead of us,
then, but now we must scout in earnest. It would not do for us to keep
to the trail across that open valley. Some fellows might have rushed
right along; and if the other fellows were sharp they would be looking
back, at such a spot, to watch for pursuers. So we must make a big
circuit, and stay out of sight, and hit the trail again on the other
side.

We crept back under cover, left a "warning" sign on the trail (Note
34), and swung around, and one at a time we crossed the valley higher
up, where it was narrower and there was brush for cover. This took time,
but it was the proper scouting; and now we hurried our best along the
other slope to pick up the trail once more.

It was after noon, by the sun, and we hadn't stopped to eat, and we were
hungry and hot and pretty tired.

As we never talked much on the trail, especially when we might be near
the enemy, Fitzpatrick made a sign that we climb straight to the top of
the slope and follow along there, to strike the trail. And if the
fellows had turned off anywhere, in gulch or to camp, we were better
fixed above them than below them.

We scouted carefully along this ridge, and came to a gulch. A path led
through, where cattle had traveled, and in the damp dirt were the burro
tracks. Hurrah! They were soft and fresh.

The sun was going to set early, in a cloud bank, and those fellows would
be camping soon. It was no use to rush them when they were traveling;
they had guns and would hang on to the burros. The way to do was to
crawl into their camp. So we traveled slower, in order to give them time
to camp.

After a while we smelled smoke. The timber was thick, and the general
and I each climbed a tree, to see where that smoke came from. I was away
at the top of a pine, and from that tree the view was grand. Pilot Peak
stood up in the wrong direction, as if we had been going around, and
mountains and timber were everywhere. I saw the smoke. And away to the
north, ten miles, it seemed to me I could see another smoke, with the
sun showing it up. It was a column smoke, and I guessed that it was a
smoke signal set by the three Scouts we had left, to show us where camp
was.

But the smoke that we were after rose in a blue haze above the trees
down in a little park about a quarter of a mile on our right. We left a
"warning" sign, and stalked the smoke.

Although Fitzpatrick has only one whole arm, he can stalk as well as any
of us. We advanced cautiously, and could smell the smoke stronger and
stronger; we began to stoop and to crawl and when we had wriggled we
must halt and listen. We could not hear anybody talking.

The general led, and Fitz and I crawled behind him, in a snake scout. I
think that maybe we might have done better if we had stalked from three
directions. Everything was very quiet, and when we could see where the
fire ought to be we made scarcely a sound. The general brushed out of
his way any twigs that would crack.

It was a fine stalk. We approached from behind a cedar, and parting the
branches the general looked through. He beckoned to us, and we wriggled
along and looked through. There was a fire, and our flags stuck beside
it, and Sally and Apache standing tied to a bush, and blankets thrown
down--but not anybody at home! The two fellows must be out fishing or
hunting, and this seemed a good chance.

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