“If you please, is this Upper Chain?” he inquired.
“Sure, son,” was the prompt response. “Reckon we must hev come in on th’ same train, only I was up forward. Guess you’re bound for Woodcraft Camp. So’m I, so let’s shake. My name’s Jim Everly—‘Big Jim’ they call me—and I’m goin’ in t’ guide fer Dr. Merriam th’ rest o’ th’ summer and try to teach you youngsters a few o’ th’ first principles. What might yer name be an’ whar be yer from?”
“Walter Upton, but the boys mostly call me ‘Walt.’ My home is in New York,” replied the boy.
“Never hit th’ trail t’ th’ big woods afore, did yer?” inquired the big guide, rising to stretch.
“No,” said Walter, and then added eagerly: “But I’ve read lots and lots of books about them, and I guess I could most find my way along a trail even if I am a city tenderfoot. I’ve paddled a canoe some, and I know all about the habits of wild animals and how to build a fire and——”
“Son,” interrupted Big Jim, “stop right thar! Forget it—all this rot you’ve been a-readin’. Woodcraft never yet was larned out o’ books, and it never will be. I reckon you an’ me are goin’ t’ hitch up together fine, an’ when yer go back t’ yer daddy this fall yer’ll be able t’ take him out in th’ tall timbers an’ show him a few stunts what ain’t down in th’ program o’ city schools, but what every cottontail born in the north woods larns the second day he gets his eyes open. Now yer jes’ fergit all this stuff yer’ve been a-readin’ and stick t’ me; we’ll git along fine. I’ll make a woodsman o’ yer yer dad will be proud o’. Let’s have a look outside t’ see how the weather is.”
As he followed the big fellow out onto the platform Walter felt his cheeks burn at this wholesale condemnation of his treasured books, one of which, “A Complete Guide to Woodcraft,” was at that moment within easy reach in the top of his duffle bag. Despite his natural admiration for this big guide, to whom the mountains, lakes and woods were as an open book, and his unbounded delight in having made a good impression, Walter was not yet willing to overthrow his former idols for this new one, and he was independent enough to stand by his opinions until convinced that he was wrong.
“Have you ever read any of them, Mr. Everly?” he inquired courteously.
“Me? Read them books?” Big Jim’s laugh rolled out infectiously. “What would I read ’em for, sonny? I’ve seen some o’ them book-writers in th’ woods, and thet’s enough fer me. Lordy!” and again Jim’s hearty laugh rolled forth.
Walter laughed a little too, but deep in his heart he resolved that he would yet show Big Jim that there was some good in the despised books. To change the subject he inquired about the low-browed owner of the axe back by the fire.