Sarah Bishop by Scott O'Dell

Author:Scott O'Dell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

23

THERE WAS SO much I had to do that the following day I got in a panic and did nothing except sit in front of the cave and watch the flocks of geese flying down from the north. They circled the lake in wedges, calling and honking, then settled on the lake. Some of the flocks flew close, and I could see their black, shining necks and the white slashes on their cheeks.

But the next day I worked hard gathering acorns, about three bushels of them, which I husked, then pounded with a rock and washed in the stream. I spread the coarse flour on a blanket in front of the fire and let it dry all night. Using part of a hollow log and a club, I ground the flour still further. That night I set it out to dry again.

There were many dried gourds in the meadow. I cleaned out a dozen of the biggest and filled them with flour. I made a big loaf of bread for supper. It was much coarser and not so flavorful as the wheat flour from Purdy's mill, but better than it might have been.

The weather continued bright and cold. The maples were still aflame. Geese kept coming in from the north, so many that they shaded the sun, so many that I managed to kill two of them with only one shot. The feathers I stuffed between the two blankets, which made a thick, warm comforter. I made a bed of pine boughs laced with moss and rushes. It was not so soft as my bed at home nor some of the beds I had slept in during my travels. But I was tired out every night and could have slept on the bare stone.

For five days I brought in firewood from the surrounding forest. I cut some, but mostly it was timber that had fallen during storms in years past. It made a stack that filled one whole side of the cave, a row deep and shoulder high. It was enough, I knew from times on the farm, to keep a fire burning through the long days and nights of winter, with some to spare.

I still lacked meat. I had seen tracks along the edge of the marsh where a bear had been feeding, but I had strong doubts about my skill with the musket, despite my lucky shot at the geese. I had threatened Sam Goshen with it. But I had not confronted a bear. My brother had killed one, a small one, but remembering the scare he had had with it, I decided against the idea. If I came upon a bear suddenly and had a choice of shooting or being clawed, that would be different.

Herds of deer came down to the pond every evening to drink, about a dozen of them in each herd, plump and sleek after summer feeding. On the farm my brother shot deer all year long, and I had helped him dress the carcasses.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.