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a selection from: CHAPTER I WHEN James Ferris was only five years old, he slipped from his bed, pattered barefooted through the bedroom and down the hall, and was finally reclaimed by an excited mother just as he was about to crawl through the window on to the sloping roof of the veranda. James was promptly spanked, although he disclaimed all knowledge of the episode. About a year later he left hi... More

a selection from: CHAPTER I WHEN James Ferris was only five years old, he slipped from his bed, pattered barefooted through the bedroom and down the hall, and was finally reclaimed by an excited mother just as he was about to crawl through the window on to the sloping roof of the veranda. James was promptly spanked, although he disclaimed all knowledge of the episode. About a year later he left his sleeping-car berth, and was only restrained All by the porter from stepping off the moving train. At the age of seven he horrified his family by climbing down four stories of a hotel fire-escape. The third coincidence set his mother's wits to work. After a time it became fully established that Jimmy Ferris was a somnambulist, or sleep-walker. Jimmy did not know this. It was considered best to keep him in ignorance of the fact. The recurrence of his night prowlings was rare, and after his condition became recognized, he was never awakened. In fact, until the age of nine, at which time this story opens, he had made but six such excursions. Aside from this unfortunate tendency, he had never been very strong. His passion had always been for out-of-door life, and that would have been the very best thing for him; but his mother was too worried about him. She exercised a general supervisory authority over such things as rubbers, flannel bands, sponge cake, and oatmeal, which convinced Jimmy that mortal man would die if his feet got wet or if his diet were in the least irregular. It is natural for a boy to pattern his mental cast by that of his mother, and Jimmie's mother was very anxious. Indeed, about this time she imagined that Jimmie's lungs were weak, and so nothing would do but that they must all go to Monterey for the summer and Santa Barabara for the winter. As Jimmy's great but thwarted ambition had always been to see the "big woods," he was more than delighted. They set out by the Canadian Pacific railroad early in May. Jimmy was at the car window all of the daylight hours, marvelling at the Canadian country, the stretches of forest, the numerous lakes. North of Lake Superior he was surprised to see still a great deal of snow lying in the hollows, and in fact, late one afternoon, the big, white flakes began to zigzag slowly through the air. Jimmy was filled with wonder. A snow-storm in May! All the afternoon he flattened his little nose against the window, his eye wide with the mystery of the forest. He could see into it just about ten feet, but who knew what lay beyond that? His restless mind conjured up the hollows, the streams, the springs, the wild beasts. Up in through that country lay the Long Trail to the fur regions. At Sudbury, late in the afternoon, he had glimpsed a voyageur just from the wilds. The man had worn a fur cap with the tail hanging down behind! He had been wrapped in a long blanket coat bound with a red sash, and his feet were encased in beaded moccasins! Jimmy's mind went galloping off on the leagues of the Long Trail and after he had gone to bed he dreamed of it. He too travelled in the Silent Places. About five o'clock in the morning the train paused an instant because the driving wheels could not grip the slippery rails on the grade. The engineer promptly turned on his sand. Five minutes later he had forgotten the circumstance.

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