Rensselaer Republican, Volume 12, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 February 1880 — A Story of Skating. [ARTICLE]

A Story of Skating.

It’s so long since I put on a pair of skates that I should be as awkward as a bear on ice. And nothing ever happened to me to make a story out ot—except being scared off a neld of ice near the woods once by a screech-owl in the pines. It was almost dark, and we had never heard such an unearthly scream before. “It’s a wild cat!” shouted one of the boys; and by the way in which we scudded for home you would have thought it was a race for the village championship. Did you ever hear how the hunter who was taken prisoner by the Jpdians

SDOWea lAvul DOW W BAftwr XflWi it’s just as good as new. It was a hundred yean ago, in the old pioneer days. Away up at the northern end of the great lakes a bold hunter and trapper made his camp. He hunted for sport in the summer, and trapped for fur in the fall and winter. He knew every river and creek, every hill and valley, in the great woods, better than you know the streets of. the town; and he had studied the cunning ways and bright tricks of the beaver, otter, mink and marten, until he knew just where and how to set his traps for them. ;He bought a good many skins of the friendlylndians who lived near; and early every year he would take a big load of them to the nearest tradingpost to sell -bringing back powder and lead, with tea, sugar and other good tilings for his table. The hunter’s life isn’t half so fine as the story-books make it; but old Thomas Judson—for that was his name —enjoyed it better than any other. In the winter he had to wear enow-, shoes in going through the woods to visit his tame; and one year he brought back a pair of skates, that he thought would be handy when the ice got clear. And very handy he found them at such times, for he could skate a dozen miles as easy as he could walk two, and the pack on his back never seemed so light as when he had his steel shoes on, and could skim along the glassy surface of the lake or river* One very cold, clear day, when the ice was good, he went to visit some mink tarns, almost twenty miles north of the cabin. He skated to near the spot, along the shore of the lake, and then took off his skates and put on his snow-shoes to travel over the deep snow a mile or two into the woods. He knew that an Indian tribe from Canada had come down to make war on those who lived near him, but never thought they would trouble him. .[ ; ' All at once his good dog Bruno, that had been running ahead on a deertrack, stopped, sniffed the air, bristled up angrily and began to growl; and, before Thomas could cany his rifle to his shoulder, he was surrounded by a dozen howling Indians, who sprangfrom their hiding place in the thicket, brandishingtheir tomahawks ami yelling like The old man was brave, but he wasn’t a fool; and instead of showing fight against such odds, he laid down nis rifle and folded his arms. He could talk but little Indian, and they could speak even less English; but by signs and motions he made out to let them know that he wasn’t on the war-path, but after furs. The Indians threatened no harm, when they found him peaceful, but were much interested in his arms and dress, for they hadn’t at that time seen many white men. The snowshoes they understood all about, for you know the Indians invented them; but the skates puzzled them. A funny thought seemed to occur to the hunter, as he saw their curiosity, for his gray eye twinkled merrily. “Ice moccasin,’’ he said, putting a skate on his foot, and then he made with his hands the gliding motion that the feet take in skating. “Ugh!” grunted the Indian Chief, pointing to the narrow blade of the skate, and shaking his head. As plainly as looks could do it he made the hunter understand that he wasn’t 1 so giuen as to believe that anybody could stand up on those things. As they were near the ice, Thomas proposed to fasten them on a young brave fora trial. The Indians welcomed the plan with* glee, for, though savages, they were great lovers of sport. Selecting the bravest and swiftest young fellow, the Chief bade him stick out his feet, which he did rather suspiciously. The skates were soon strapped on, and the young buck helped to his feet. The ice was like glass, and as he started to move you know what happened; his feet flew out from under him, and down he came with a crack! Such shouts of laughter as the rest sent up! The young fellow was gritty, and scrambled up to try it again, but with the same result. The chief now signaled to the hunter to show them how the things worked. Thomas fastened on the skates with great care, picked up his rifle and used it as a cane, pretending to support himself. He moved about awkwardly, fell down, got up and stumbled around, the Indians all the time laughing and capering at the sport. Gradually Thomas stumbled a little further away, whirifag about and making believe it was veiy hard work to keep his balance, until he was near the point where the smooth lake ice stretched miles and miles away. Suddenly gathering himself up he grasped his rifle firmly, gave a warwhoop as wild as the Indians' own, and dashed up the lake like an arrow, skating as he had never skated before. 11 he had disappeared in the air the Indians couldn’t have been more astonished. Of course they couldn’t hope to catch him, over the glassy ice, and they stood gaping after him, wondering more and more at the magic “ice moccasins.’’ Nothing pleased old Thomas more in after years than to tell how he “fooled the redskins.”—GoZden jRuZe.