"There is only one thing that can shame a man, that is to be
afraid." And again, "There's always a way out." These were the
sayings that came ringing through his head to his heart; one was
from Quonab, the other from old Sylvanne. Yes, there's always a
way, and the stout heart can always find it.
Rolf prepared and cooked the two birds, made a breakfast of one
and put the other in his pocket for lunch, not realizing at the
time that his lunch would be eaten on this same spot. More than
once, as he sat, small flocks of ducks flew over the trees due
northward. At length the sky, now clear, was ablaze with the
rising sun, and when it came, it was in Rolf's western sky.
Now he comprehended the duck flight. They were really heading
southeast for their feeding grounds on the Indian Lake, and Rolf,
had he been able to tramp, could have followed, but his foot was
growing worse. It was badly swollen, and not likely to be of
service for many a day - perhaps weeks -- and it took all of his
fortitude not to lie down and weep over this last misfortune.
Again came the figure of that grim, kindly, strong old pioneer,
with the gray-blue eyes and his voice was saying: "Jest when
things looks about as black as they can look, if ye hold steady,
keep cool and kind, something sure happens to make it all easy.
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