How John Norton the Trapper Kept His Christmas
By W.H. Murray
()
About this ebook
W.H. Murray
W.H. Murray was a Scottish mountaineer, writer and conservationist. Born in Liverpool in 1913, he grew up in Glasgow and began climbing in the mid-1930s, soon making numerous trips to Glen Coe and Ben Nevis. Captivated by winter climbing, he made a number of first ascents and early repeats of classic routes in the area. War interrupted Murray’s climbing: ‘To me and everyone I knew at the time, mobilisation spelled the ruin of everything we most valued in life.’ Joining the Highland Light Infantry, he served as a captain in the Western Desert before being captured. A quote from Mountain magazine from 1979 describes the moment after his capture: ‘To my astonishment, he [the German tank commander] forced a wry smile and asked in English, 'Aren't you feeling the cold?' ... I replied 'cold as a mountain top'. He looked at me, and his eyes brightened. 'Do you mean – you climb mountains?' He was a mountaineer. We both relaxed. He stuffed his gun away. After a few quick words – the Alps, Scotland, rock and ice – he could not do enough for me.’ It was during his time in prison camps that he wrote his first book, Mountaineering in Scotland, using the only paper available to him – toilet paper. The Gestapo discovered and destroyed his first draft but, undeterred, Murray simply started again. After the war Murray lived and worked as a writer in Argyll. Mountaineering in Scotland was published in 1947 and hailed as a masterpiece Four years later came a companion volume dealing with his post-war climbs – Undiscovered Scotland. In the post-war years Murray took a major part in several Himalayan expeditions, most noticeably as a member of Eric Shipton’s 1951 Everest Reconnaissance Expedition which explored the lower part of the route later used by the successful 1953 expedition. Murray was awarded an OBE in 1966, to go with numerous other awards which included the Mungo Park Medal of the Royal Geographical Society and honorary doctorates from the universities of Stirling and Strathclyde.
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How John Norton the Trapper Kept His Christmas - W.H. Murray
W. H. H. Murray
How John Norton the Trapper Kept His Christmas
Published by Good Press, 2022
goodpress@okpublishing.info
EAN 4064066158033
Table of Contents
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Table of Contents
A cabin. A cabin in the woods. In the cabin a great fireplace piled high with logs, fiercely ablaze. On either side of the broad hearth-stone a hound sat on his haunches, looking gravely, as only a hound in a meditative mood can, into the glowing fire. In the centre of the cabin, whose every nook and corner was bright with the ruddy firelight, stood a wooden table, strongly built and solid. At the table sat John Norton, poring over a book,—a book large of size, with wooden covers bound in leather, brown with age, and smooth as with the handling of many generations. The whitened head of the old man was bowed over the broad page, on which one hand rested, with the forefinger marking the sentence. A cabin in the woods filled with firelight, a table, a book, an old man studying the book. This was the scene on Christmas Eve. Outside, the earth was white with snow, and in the blue sky above the snow was the white moon.
It says here,
said the Trapper, speaking to himself, it says here, 'Give to him that lacketh, and from him that hath not, withhold not thine hand.' It be a good sayin' fur sartin; and the world would be a good deal better off, as I conceit, ef the folks follered the sayin' a leetle more closely.
And here the old man paused a moment, and, with his hand still resting on the page, and his forefinger still pointing at the sentence, seemed pondering what he had been reading. At last he broke the silence again, saying,—
Yis, the world would be a good deal better off, ef the folks in it follered the sayin';
and then he added, There's another spot in the book I'd orter look at to-night; it's a good ways furder on, but I guess I can find it. Henry says that the furder on you git in the book, the better it grows, and I conceit the boy may be right; for there be a good deal of murderin' and fightin' in the fore part of the book, that don't make pleasant readin', and what the Lord wanted to put it in fur is a good deal more than a man without book-larnin' can understand. Murderin' be murderin', whether it be in the Bible or out of the Bible; and puttin' it in the Bible, and sayin' it was done by the Lord's commandment, don't make it any better. And a good deal of the fightin' they did in the old time was sartinly without reason and ag'in jedgment, specially where they killed the women-folks and the leetle uns.
And while the old man had thus been communicating with himself, touching the character of much of the Old Testament, he had been turning the leaves until he had reached the opening chapters of the New, and had come to the description of the Saviour's birth, and the angelic announcement of it on the earth. Here he paused, and began to read. He read as an old man unaccustomed to letters must read,—slowly and with a show of labor, but with perfect contentment as to his progress, and a brightening face.
This isn't a trail a man can hurry on onless he spends a good deal of his time on it, or is careless about notin' the signs, fur the words be weighty, and a man must stop at each word, and look around awhile, in order to git all the meanin' out of 'em—yis, a man orter travel this trail a leetle slow, ef he wants to see all there is to see on it.
Then the old man began to read:—
'Then there was with the angels a multitude of the heavenly host,'—the exact number isn't sot down here,
he muttered; but I conceit there may have been three or four hunderd,—'praisin' God and singin', Glory to God in the highest, and on 'arth, peace to men of good will.' That's right,
said the Trapper. Yis, peace to men of good will. That be the sort that desarve peace; the other kind orter stand their chances.
And here the old man closed the book,—closed it slowly, and with the care we take of a treasured thing; closed it, fastened the clasps, and carried it to the great chest whence he had taken it, putting it away in its place. Having done this, he returned to his seat, and, moving the chair in front of the fire, he looked first at one hound, and then at the other, and said, Pups, this be Christmas Eve, and I sartinly trust ye be grateful fur the comforts ye have.
He said this deliberately, as if addressing human companions. The two hounds turned their heads toward their master, looked placidly into his face, and wagged their tails.
The two hounds turned their heads toward their master.
Yis, yis, I understand ye,
said the Trapper, "Ye both be comfortable, and, I dare say, that arter yer way ye both be grateful, fur, next to eatin', a dog loves the heat, and