All day Pa was busy, banking the little house and the barn with dead leaves and straw, held down by stones, to keep out the cold. The weather grew colder all day, and that night there was once more a fire on the hearth and the windows were shut tight and chinked for the winter.
Laura whispered in his ear, "Im glad you didnt shoot them! “
The HE grass was dry and withered, and the cow must be taken out of the woods and kept in the barn to be fed. All the bright-colored leaves became dull brown when the cold fall rains began.
"Then he stood up on his hind legs, perfectly still, looking all around him. He seemed to be suspicious that something was wrong. He was trying to see or smell what it was.
"After awhile a big bear came lumbering out into the open. He was so fat at from feasting on berries and roots and grubs all summer that he was nearly as large as two bears. His head swayed from side to side as he went on all fours across the clear space in the moonlight, until he came to a rotten log. He smelled it, and listened. Then he pawed it apart and sniffed among the broken pieces, eating up the fat white grubs.
But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pas fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods. She looked at Pa sitting on the bench by the hearth, the firelight gleaming on his brown hair and beard and glistening on the honey-brown fiddle. She looked at Ma, gently rocking and knitting.
Oh, Susi-an-na, dont you cry for me, Im going to Cal-i-for-ni-a, The gold dust for to see.”
"When I went out to the deer-lick, I climbed up into a big oak tree. I found a place on a branch where I was comfortable and could watch the deer-lick. I was near enough to shoot any animal that came to it, and my gun was loaded and ready on my knee.
"He was a perfect mark to shoot at, but I was so much interested in watching him, and the woods were so peaceful in the moonlight, that I forgot all about my gun. I did not even think of shooting him, until he was waddling away into the woods.
One night when he came in from doing the chores Pa said that after supper he would go to his deer-lick and watch for a deer. There had been no fresh meat in the little house since spring, but now the fawns were grown up, and Pa would go hunting again.
The long winter evenings of firelight and music had come again. Pas fiddle walled while Pa was singing:
She was glad that the cosy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.
"Youre my good girls," he said. "And now its bedtime. Run along, while I get my fiddle.”
"It was a perfect shot. But he was so beautiful, he looked so strong and free and wild, that I couldnt kill him. I sat there and looked at him, until he bounded away into the dark woods.
" This will never do, I thought. Ill never get any meat this way. "I settled myself in the tree and waited again. This time I was as determined to shoot the next game I saw.
There was no more playing under the trees. But Pa was in the house when it rained, and he began again to play the fiddle after supper.
"Then they raised their heads and looked at each other. The fawn stepped over and stood beside the doe. They stood there together, looking at the woods and the moonlight. Their large eyes were shining and soft.
"Shall auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Shall auld acquaintance be forgot, And the days of auld lang syne? And the days of auld lang syne, my friend, And the days of auld lang syne, Shall auld acquaintance be forgot, And the days of auld lang syne?”
Mary said, "We can eat bread and butter.”
When the fiddle had stopped singing Laura called out softly, "What are days of auld lang syne, Pa?”
"Now Ill tell you why you had no fresh meat to eat today.
"There I sat and waited for the moon to rise and light the clearing. I was a little tired from chopping wood all day yesterday, and I must have fallen asleep, for I found myself opening my eyes.” "The big, round moon was just rising. I could see it between the bare branches of the trees, low in the sky. And right against it I saw a deer standing. His head was up and he was listening. His great, branching horns stood out above his head.
The attic and the cellar were full of good things once more, and Laura and Mary had started to make patchwork quilts. Everything was beginning to be snug and cosy again.
After supper Pa took his gun and went into the woods, and Laura and Mary went to sleep without any stories or music.
"After a long while, a doe and her yearling fawn came stepping daintily out of the shadows. They were not afraid at all. They walked over to the place where I had sprinkled the salt, and they both licked up a little of it.
Pa lifted Mary up out of her chair and hugged them both together.
She thought to herself, "This is now.”
"Then I remembered that, Ma and my little girls were waiting for me to bring home some good fresh venison. I made up my mind that next time I would shoot.
Then the rains stopped. The weather grew colder. In the early mornings everything sparkled with frost. The days were growing short and a little fire burned all day in the cookstove to keep the house warm. Winter was not far away.
He was dark against the moon.
As soon as they woke in the morning they ran to the window, but there was no deer hanging in the trees. Pa had never before gone out to get a deer and come home without one. Laura and Mary did not know what to think.
Pa had made a deer-lick, in an open place in the woods, with trees near by in which he could sit to watch it. A deer-lick was a place where the deer came to get salt. When they found a salty place in the ground they came there to lick it, and that was called a deer-lick. Pa had made one by sprinkling salt over the ground.
When Laura and Mary had said their prayers and were tucked snugly under the trundle beds covers, Pa was sitting in the firelight with the fiddle. Ma had blown out the lamp because she did not need its light. On the other side of the hearth she was swaying gently in her rocking chair and her knitting needles flashed in and out above the sock she was knitting.
"They are the days of a long time ago, Laura," Pa said. "Go to sleep, now.
Then Pa began to play again the song about Old Grimes. But he did not sing the words he had sung when Ma was making cheese. These words were different. Pas strong, sweet voice was softly singing:
I just sat there looking at them, until they walked away among the shadows. Then I climbed down out of the tree and came home.”
"The moon had risen higher and the moonlight was bright in the little open place. All around it the shadows were dark among the trees.
After supper Pa took Laura on his knee, while Mary sat close in her little chair. And Pa said:
