University of Vermont - Ariel Yearbook (Burlington, VT)

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THE ARIEL, 1908 RED ROCKS

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THE ARIEL, 1908 23 sort on VVilliam's scutcheon, but they were not very large nor black. Aid in tossing up or in putting down his -boat he often asked and always eagerly wel- comed, but once the burden was on his shoulders, he bore it readily enough- not, however, always placidly. There was that mile-long portage out of the Bass Lakes into the Matabitchouan-in all Ontario there is probably no steeper nor more slippery carry than that. I had just arisen mournfully from an ignominious tumble, which had sent lantern, axe and maple-sugar tin far into the bushes, and which had rolled my packs wildly over the sloping rocks, when I saw, a few rods ahead, VVilliam and his birch-bark plunge heavily downwards. I-Iow he extricated himself I have no idea, but, when I reached the spot, he was executing the war-dance and emitting the tribal yells of his Indian ancestors, and now and again punctuating his song of frenzy by sundry savage kicks aimed at the boat, the innocent and sensitive cause of his downfall. The chief object- lesson in our Summer School that morning was founded on the adapted text: He whose spirit is without restraint is like a CCIIZOU that is broken down and hath no bark. To the Cook whom the Canterbury Pilgrims Uhadde with hem for the nonesi' and who coude roste and sethe and broille and frye, 'William bore only a very distant relation. And what I tell of him might, I suppose, be narrated with a changed name of every guide in Ontario, who deigns to handle pots and pans. To me as self-appointed director of our culinary department fell the duty of discovering VVilliamls limitations, and they were certainly not very far to seek. Of three things he had no more conception than a child-quantity, quality and order. Porridge would be served for eight, coffee for four, bacon for two. VVhether the larder was well stocked or almost bare, Wfilliam never knew, and not knowing would vaunt riches or bemoan needs that had nothing in common with our real possessions or wants. VVe have no bread -investiga- tion would disclose five loaves. Plenty of sugar! -that with only a cupful in reserve. As with amount, so with kind. In some strange fashion all labels were early washed from the tinsg and comic was the dazed uncertainty with which he fumbled, as in a grab-bag, among his sealed provisions. It was the merest toss-up whether his can-opener would reveal peas or corn, tongue or' beef, condensed milk or evaporated cream. Passing strange, too, was the se- quence of his preparations: the boiling of coffee always preceded the frying of bacon and the cooking of potatoes, with disastrous consequences to the warmth of food and drink. Qnce, in an insane moment, he essayed the making of bread, but the attempt was received with such hoary banter and antiquated jeer and gibe that he fortunately never repeated this. And yet such a sauce is the appetite of the bush, that even here in a land of plenty I should be willing to barter many delicacies with high-sounding Gallic names for the products of VVilliam's camp- fire. A bit of his smoked bacon now would have more than the reminiscent flavor of Thackeray's bouillabaisse.

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THE ARIEL, 1908 25 Tlibe Qllall nf tbz pringtime I-TEN the silence of winter has begun to pall upon one's sensesg when the cold, tight grip of the frost-kings hand starts to loosen, when once more the days grow longer and the nights shorter,-then it is that the call of the springtime summons all peoples. This E voice may not be nearly as audible as that of the conscience telling one to do some kindly deed for others, but it is much more irresistible. Fig- uratively it lifts man off his feet: and literally, it makes his step lighterg and as he meets his fellows, he greets them with a smile, gladder than he has had for months. Sometimes in the eyes of others he catches the light that shows that they also have heard the call. The voice bids him come forth from his tasks out into the good air. It calls him to helds where last year's withered grass is beginning to show through the now dingy covering of snow, to the hilltops where the fresh south wind touches with careless fingers his browg to the sides of brooks and rivers where icy ex- panses slowly become porous under the warm sunshine. There is in the invita- tion of the spring, something which calls back to man's savage instincts, com- manding him to love each beautiful thing of nature. There is a note that calls back to man's boyish instincts for the changing and the new. And where does one hear the call? Tn the dripping of the melting snow from the roofg in the gentle falling of the first raing in the songs of the early robin and bluebirdg in the sounding of the wind through the pine-branches. And not alone does he hear it, but he sees the spring beckoning to him. The sunset has a softer, more mellow light shading its colors: the twigs of the willows are yellowing the whole trees, the distant mountains are palegpale blue as if they held the tint which would later deepen in the violets of the fields. Yes, and he feels the springtime take him by the hand. The very atmosphere says, 'fCome. And at night under the starry heavens he feels the spell. In the soft, far- off murmur of swift-flowing brooksg in the air which has in it some of winters chill and more of summer's warmth, spring speaks to him.