In the days when Michgian woods were wild
A man and his wife on a homestead filed.
They built a cabin of logs fresh-cut
With a large fireplace to grace the hut.
In fact, the fireplace was so wide
It filled the house from side to side.
Here they lived with their children four
With hunting dogs to guard their door.
For a year before the door was built
They hung the frame with a folded quilt:
The dogs were savage and huge and wild
And not to be petted by any child.
Usually, they in a pen were shut,
But at night one dog would guard the hut.
The forest was wide, deep, dark and tall;
Children could never see out at all.
There were bears and wolves and panthers, too,
While great owls called, "Whoo-hooo! whoo-hooo!"
And father found to his dismay
He'd built his home on a wolves' runway,
For a pack of wolves howled at the door,
And to the dog's work this added more.
Fortunately, wolves from fire will shy,
So they let the fireplace logs burn high.
Between fire, dogs, and a rifle, too,
The pack of howling wolves withdrew.
One night the mother came in to say,
"Children, I'm called a mile away,
By your sick aunt's bedside I must stay.
"Now don't leave the house while I'm away."
And called for Tige, huge hunting dog.
"Be good, my children, and have no fear,
"Old Tige will guard you, and God is near."
Soon father came in. He, too, must go
To escort mother through the snow.
With gun in hand and a lantern's light
They found their way through the wintry night.
When the children found it time for bed
They called the dog. "Come Tige", they said.
"It's time for you to go outside.
"You can run around, you won't be tied."
But Tige was wise, he refused to go,
Just settled himself by the fireside's glow.
He was out before and scouted round;
There seemed some danger he had found.
In those days chimneys were built so rough,
Of logs and mud, and such crude stuff.
Perhaps when the dog had looked he saw
Issuing smoke or flame from a flaw.
And now that he was inside the door
He refused to go out anymore.
It seemed much wiser to let him stay---
They were afraid of him anyway.
Then later, when all were fast asleep,
Old Tige saw flames by the chimney leap.
To the girls' bedside he quickly came
To warn them of the fearful flame.
He stood at the head of the trundle-bed,
And 'twixt their heads he laid his head
And loudly barked. "Bow-wow!" he said.
And in his voice was a note of dread.
The girls awoke in a terrible fright
Only to meet with another sight:
The chimney corner was starting to blaze
And soon would fill the room with haze.
The girls were seven and ten years old
Mere babes were they, yet they were bold.
Up they rose, like two little mothers,
Quickly rescued their two younger brothers,
Leading them out on the frozen snow,
And told them to watch the fire's glow.
The older girl said, "Come on! Let's go!
"There's something we can save, I know!"
So the two girls hurried forth and back
Until in the snow they had a stack
Of bedding, clothing, dishes, too...
This much they thought would have to do.
As the smoke in the house was growing thick
And the flames were mounting double-quick
And the brothers were cold in the snow.
About one-half of a mile away
A neighbor dwelt, and there they could stay.
So down the dark trail and throught the wood
They fearlessly went, for they were good.
Then, too, there was Tige close by their side
Ready and willing to be their guide.
Old Tige proceeded to lead the way
To keep the panthers and wolves at bay.
No animal dared to howl or growl;
No sound was heard from the scary owl;
Nor was there a single bear in sight
As Tige led the children through the night.
Then when the parents at midnight came
Their home was not at all the same.
All that was left of the house, you know,
Was a great, black circle in the snow.
Father and mother were terrified...
'Till the pile of bedding they espied.
There it lay heaped in the melting snow...
But where, oh, where did the children go?
As Tige was not there they looked around,
And what do you think it was they found?
A long trail of footprints in the snow--
Then father and mother knew where to go.
G. K. Martin
(Georgie Knipp Martin)
