Chapter XL.
The Heroes Figure as Hunters.
Perhaps the reader may think that while the seven heroes were together, instead of packing Henry, the seventh (observe the comma immediately after Henry; observe, also, that it is not written Henry VII.), off home, it would have been better to relate a few more of their exploits. Not so. In imposing on Marmaduke, each one was guilty of a breach of trust, so that it would not be right to have them appear with such a stain on their reputation. As for Jim, he premeditated villainy; and in good romances no villain can long be regarded as a hero—unless he happens to be a highwayman, and it would be preposterous to attempt to have Jim play the highwayman. Now, the intention is to write this story on a moral basis; therefore, a few years are suffered to elapse, and they are supposed to reform in that time.
Marmaduke did no wrong, so that his history might be continued, without doubt. But this story could not go on, unless all the boys, Jim included, were in it.
Suppose, therefore, that six years have passed since the burning of “Nobody’s House.” The boys, now men, are still alive, and in good health and spirits. How they have spent those six years is not difficult to imagine. All of them regularly attended school till they were big and awkward, when most of them were sent to a university, to complete their education.
It was originally the intention to relate some thrilling incidents that took place while they were students; but being too lazy to collect sufficient scientific facts to do so with effect, that intention was reluctantly given up.
Gentle reader, if you are ever at a loss for something to sigh about, just think what you have missed in not reading how four sophomores barely escaped blowing themselves and a leaky steamboat up into the clouds, fancying that they understood the theory of working a steam-engine. To torture you still further, imagine, also, a scene in which a learned professor’s “focus cannon” mysteriously, unadvisedly, and to the heroes’ amazement and horror, shot a ball into a pair of glass globes, which the affectionate students were about to present to him.
It was autumn; and the seven young men, heroes still, were preparing to journey far northward, to hunt deer, or whatever else their bullets might chance to strike.
Will and Henry prevailed on Uncle Dick to accompany them—greatly to the satisfaction of the elders, who fondly hoped he would keep a fatherly eye on the reckless hunters, and prevent them from destroying themselves.
Fully equipped, the party of eight set out for the “happy hunting grounds,” firm in the resolution to kill all the game still remaining in the great northwest. If plenty of ammunition and fire-arms would avail, then certainly they should bring home a great supply of animal food.
But whether the fourfooted creatures of the forest were forewarned that a band of mighty hunters was on the war-trail, and fled from their sylvan haunts, or whether they obstinately remained, and bade defiance to the Nimrods’ balls, is a mooted point, which the intensely interested reader may set at rest as he pleases.