Kitchener Waterloo Collegiate and Vocational School - Grumbler Yearbook (Kitchener, Ontario Canada)

Page 104 text:

16 THE GRUMBLER The Dweliers Manley Schultz, A X D HE MARMOT peered anxious- ly from beneath a protecting ledge of rock. The heavy spring rains pelted down unendingly, and splashed on the grey limestone round about her. The wind blew cold and hard, driving the rain in gusts against her smooth buff-and- grey fur. For eight days it had been thus. The grey clouds loosed their burden on grey rocks and water. In front of the marmot, and a few inches below, the waters of the turbulent Kashaweogama swirled and eddied along the rocky river bed. Behind her, four young ones whimpered hungrily. It had been many days since they had visited the grassy clearings in the forest. The steady rains had poured into the river until the rising 7?-,, fl torrent threatened to flood the marmot's den. The cunning little siffleur , as the French voyagers called her, had made her nest in a snug rocky hollow, completely in- accessible to bears, wolves, eagles or other common enemies. But with the river she had not reckoned, looking to it more as a protection than as a menace. The marmot whistled shrilly, as was her wont when disturbed. She wheeled swiftly and entered her den. Seizing the first of her young ones by the scruff of the neck, she carried him out onto the cliff-ledge. She paused a moment, as if medi- tating, and then, half-carrying, half-dragging her luckless off- spring, she made her way to the top of the cliff. Here, amid the I I g ., ff!s'.vf1,,Q rgsgftrf 1 ' r' H f - ': 'f. ' , i. ' M - 5' Q- . -V.. -jf TN 'I J' -7-ix, Y. Q , Q k M we . S- ff if T ' ts-Riff of fig , - t if t N',-Nyilfy 1 .ll M 'ff Ayr .ij-' Q , .. 0 ' . ':'f1'.' 9 'lid rf rj we T 6 ft 1' M My 'L as , ,,, . 'XXV' .Avi ll QF- ,--L R4 x r Q' I' 'gig' i--V.-:T I -I, ,J 'i-Zxs qi-'L ' f' - - 'zifiz s s it ff iwffiffssk' - 1' f ps + iblvi 7 1fggg 'i!E,g-V. '-2' . ,. .J ,aslv-L' N- f i, -'Q 'c .4-Bef, ' arg ,--, f'-92 . - 4, ,. ' LN K T sf? . ielf' 'ffl ' AC' fl fiiwt pff i s be-r ' 5. 14' X - ,Fix ,fxxk E, A' m ir s -a+s,-,a-gzswef .I ' 'zqx gg' 7 .fgle-lil Q'L,,..,,,,., N f

Page 103 text:

THE GRUMBLER 15 ifdtvrarg

Page 105 text:

THE GRUMBLER 17 gnarled roots of a huge, uprooted pine tree, was a snug dry depres- sion in the rock, sheltered by the broad overhanging trunk. The marmot deposited her young one in this hollow and turned again down the steep bank. PF 7? :li Far up the Kashaweogama, where the banks were higher and the river bed rougher, a weasel cowered, cold and hungry, in the rotting stub of a dead tree. He was only partially protected, and the rain sifted in upon him, chill- ing him to the very bones of his thin lithe body. He tried to sleep and forget his hunger and cold. He had not eaten a square meal since the rains had begun many days be- fore, and his hunger was ravenous. He would doze off into an imagin- ary weasel paradise, dreaming wistfully of a tender young rabbit or a freshly killed grouse. Then he would awake with a start to the cold, wet, hungry world which he had grown to loathe. The wind, which had abated its fury for several minutes, suddenly livened to a sharp gale. A sicken- ing crunch, a sharp crack, and the dead tree splashed into the swift gray water below. Gripped im- mediately in the strong current, it wheeled and swirled and bumped as it journeyed down the rapids. Then out onto its upper side crawl- ed a bedraggled. dripping speck of life. It was the weasel. Never fond of water, and in the past few days having developed a fierce hatred for it, the weasel crouched, clinging in utter dejection and misery to his unstable craft. On and on he whirled, down countless rapids, past low marshy banks and through deep canyons. On and on, until he could cling to the log no longer. Then he rounded another bend and brought into view a grey limestone cliff on top of which a dead tree slanted grotesquely. A swift eddy caught the rotten log and whirled it against the rocky bank. It cracked dangerously, and then wedged for a moment against a protruding rock. The weasel, fearful of again being cast adrift in the torrent, jumped desperately for the bank. He caught at the rock and scrambled wildly. After a breathless moment of indecision, he drew himself up on a narrow rocky ledge. Directly in front of him was a hole, now partly filled with water, from which issued a warm, tantalizing odour. Without a moment's hesitation the starving little carnivor darted into the hole. In a back corner, partially hidden by a mass of leaves and grass, crouched a small animal hardly bigger than himself. With one triumphant leap he was upon it. There was little struggle, just a muffled squeal and a scrape on the rock. Then the weasel began to devour his victim. Oh how warm and sweet the fresh .blood tasted! How it seemed to pour new life into his veins! It filled the weasel with a new vigour and lessened somewhat the pang of the miseries that he had suffered for so long. Then, in the midst of this ecs- tatic revelry, a shadow darkened the entrance to the cave. The weasel turned like a flash faster than the swiftest eddy in all the rapids of the Kashaweogama. But he was not quite fast enough. The wary marmot-for it was she- had sensed some impending danger as she descended the cliff and failed to hear the worried whim- perings of the last of her offspring. 'She dived on the little tyrant even as he turned, and gripped him squarely across the shoulders. The weasel, supple as a snake and many times stronger, twisted and squirmed until he had obtained a glancing hold on the marmot's jaw. It was not a strong hold but it was fContinued on page 162i