Twice a Hero

by Martha Hines Templeton

“I don’t know.” They held their breaths and listened. After what seemed like a long time, they could make out a raccoon trying to get into their food. Ben threw some rocks and it scurried away.

  A little while later, a bobcat screamed in the distance. “I don’t think it’ll come into the cave, with the campfire,” Ray said. But the eerie sound sent shivers down Ben’s spine, so he added some more sticks to the fire for good measure. A pack of wolves howled on a distant hill. Lying there listening to the night sounds, and the roaring of the river, they finally fell asleep.

  The morning light streamed into the cave, waking the boys. Ben stretched and yawned. “I saw some ripe blackberries on the hillside yesterday. Let’s pick some for breakfast,” he suggested. Ben loved fresh blackberries. They grew wild everywhere, and it didn’t take long to pick all they wanted.

  “Mmm, delicious!” Ben declared, his hands and mouth stained with blackberry juice.

  After breakfast, Ray said, “Want to explore for a while? Maybe we can find a secret passage.”

  “Sure,” Ben replied, and they took off, climbing over the big boulders again.

  The cave had many interesting tunnels to explore, but without a light, they couldn’t go back very far. They knew better than to risk getting lost in one of the tunnels.

  Just then, Ben looked down, and in the wet dirt he saw it, a footprint just like the one he saw by the henhouse. There was a round circle on one, like the shoe had a hole in the sole.

  “Ray, look!” Ben shouted. “I saw a footprint just like this by our henhouse!”

  “Are you sure?” Ray asked.

  “Sure as can be,” Ben answered solemnly. “I bet someone is living here, and stole some eggs from us.”

  “Maybe we should tell Papa and Mama,” Ray suggested. “There could have been a stranger going west, and just stopped over for a few days to rest.”

  “I think we should try to figure it out by ourselves,” Ben said.

  “Okay,” Ray agreed reluctantly, “but if anything valuable disappears, we’ll have to tell Papa.”

  Ben started imagining all sorts of kinds of characters. Bank robbers? Indians? Maybe someone who ran away from home?

  Finally Ray said, “We’d best get our gear together and head back to the boat.”

  Ben picked up his bedroll. “Look, Ray! I found an arrowhead.” They eagerly searched for more.

  “Here’s one, too!” Ray shouted. “This proves the Indians used the cave at one time.”

  Finally, Ray said, “We’d better go now.”

  Near where the boat was tied, a ravine went back between the hills, with a stream that ran into the river. “Let’s follow the stream and see where it goes,” Ben suggested.

  “Okay, but we can’t spend too much time,” said Ray.

  The boys followed the stream, occasionally having to climb over a fallen tree.

  “Look, Ray! These tracks look like big cat paw prints. What do you think made them?”

  Ray shook his head. “I don’t know. I’d guess it was a mountain lion! Well, as long as they find plenty of rabbits to eat, they won’t bother us.”

  Coming around a bend, they were stopped by a pile of huge boulders blocking the ravine. The stream seemed to disappear among the rocks.

  “Let’s climb the bluff here above the river,” Ben suggested. He started off, with Ray following behind.

  It was a steep climb, with loose dirt and gravel. The going became dangerous near the top, with just a narrow ledge of rock. They inched along the bluff; then it narrowed more as they came around a bend, with the river below.

  “Don’t get too near the edge,” Ray cautioned. One slip, and they would end up at the bottom of the bluff. Balanced on the narrow ledge, Ben leaned forward, trying to see what was ahead.

  Suddenly, Ben’s foot slipped on loose gravel. There was nothing to grab hold of. He spotted a sapling, but it was too far away; he couldn’t reach it. Ben was about to fall ... onto a pile of big rocks some twenty feet below. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding. Frantically, he tried to get his feet onto something solid, as he started sliding. He clawed at the loose gravel for something to stop him.

  Ray saw that there was no time to lose. “Grab my hand!” he yelled, as he reached for a small sapling with one hand, and held out his other hand to Ben.

  Straining, Ben grabbed hold of Ray’s hand, and Ray pulled him, inch by inch, to safety. “If that sapling hadn’t held, we’d both be goners,” Ray said accusingly. “You’d better listen to me next time.”

  Ben was grateful for Ray’s quick action, but it hurt his pride to have to be rescued by Ray.

  “We better get back to the boat now,” he told Ray.

  Carefully making their way back down the bluff, at a safer distance from the edge this time, they reached the boat, and set off downstream.

  It was a beautiful day to be out on the river. Except for the birds singing, all they could hear were the paddles splashing in the water, and the sound of the riffles as the river rushed through the rocks.

  “What could be more fun than this?” asked Ben.

  “Nothing,” agreed Ray. Now and then they saw a snake slithering through the water, or a frog or turtle sunning on an old fallen log.

  After a while they stopped on a gravel bar by a deep pool. Baiting their hooks, they tossed in their lines. It wasn’t long before the two of them had a good mess of catfish. They jumped in for a quick swim in the river, changing into dry clothes before paddling the last stretch home. “Let’s do this again!” said Ben.

  “Yeah,” said Ray. “Maybe we could take a lantern next time, and look for a secret passage.”

  “I just bet there is one,” Ben replied. “And I’d sure like to find it.”

  Back home again, the boys recounted their adventures, and what a great time they had. They were careful to not mention the footprints, though.

  When Mama heard of Ben’s rescue on the edge of the bluff, she said a prayer of thankfulness that they were safe. This rugged country did have dangers, and Ben was sometimes a little too adventurous.

  Mama warned Ben, “You must be more cautious. You could have been killed or crippled for life.”

  But it wouldn’t be the last time Ben faced danger.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mysterious Happenings

  Morning came, and Ben could hear Mama calling, “Time to rise and shine, sleepy heads. The chores must be done.” Ben didn’t mind the chores; that was what all his friends did, too. Everyone in the family was expected to help. As Mama always said, “Many hands make light work.” Ben wasn’t always sure what her sayings meant, but he thought she meant if they shared the work, it wasn’t so hard for her. Mama worked hard, though, and Ben was glad he could do his part to help her.

  With the chickens fed, Ben and Ray were gathering the eggs. “Ray, there are only six eggs. We usually have a dozen or more,” Ben said, puzzled. Now he was sure. Someone was stealing eggs.

  “That is strange,” Ray agreed. “Let’s make a plan to catch them.”

  Ben began to hatch a plan in his mind as he did his chores. He would talk to Ray later when they had time.

  The boys fed the pigs and the horses while Mama milked Spot and Bessie, the cows. Little sister Becky tagged along behind the boys while they worked, her blond curls bouncing as she ran. She sang from the time she got up until she went to bed at night. “Ray,” said Ben, “Do you ever get tired of Becky tagging along and singing all the time?”

  “Naw,” said Ray, “It’s better than having her crying or whining all the time.”

  Ben thought about that a bit and decided Ray was pretty wise.

  As usual, Papa had left for work at the sawmill before the boys were up. After the chores were done, Mama called to them, “Get your hands washed, breakfast is ready.” The table was set with bacon, eggs, biscuits, and blackberry jelly.

  “My favorite breakfast in the whole world!” thought Ben. He was really hungry by now, and Mama’s cooking was the best ever.


  “This is washday,” Mama reminded them. The boys knew what that meant. After breakfast it was their job to draw water up from the hand dug well with a wooden bucket fastened to a rope. Mama had the fire going outside to heat the water. They filled the tubs, one for washing the clothes and one for rinsing them. Mama shaved some soap from a bar of her homemade lye soap into the hot wash water. Then she scrubbed the clothes on a washboard, rinsed them, then wrung the water out by twisting them, and hung them on a rope line to dry.

  After the clothes were all washed and hung to dry, Ben and Ray emptied the tubs. There hadn’t been much rain recently, so they carried the rinse water to water the garden. Once the tubs were emptied and hung on the side of the cabin, Ben and Ray’s work was done.

  “Let’s ask if we can go fishing now,” Ben said.

  “Yes, you’ve earned some time for fun, and if you get enough fish, we’ll have them tonight for supper,” Mama said, smiling.

  Ben and Ray went out to the garden and dug up some ‘fishin’ worms, got their cane poles, and headed down to the river.

  It was a hot day, and it felt good to wade out into the cold water. They made their way downstream to a deep hole and threw out their lines. Pretty soon Ben shouted, “I got one!”

  “Me, too!” said Ray. Before long they had nine sun perch and three goggle-eye. They put the fish in buckets of water to keep them alive.

  While they fished, Ben told Ray his idea about catching the thief. “How about us taking the milk buckets and tying them to the door of the chicken house, then when whoever it is comes and opens the door, the buckets will clang together and the noise will scare the chickens. They’ll start squawking, and we’ll hear them and run out and catch the thief!”

  “Good plan!” Ray agreed.

  Soon it was almost sundown, and Ray said, “We’d best be getting back to the house or Mama will worry.”

  Walking slowly, they climbed the hill, carrying the buckets of fish. The buckets were heavy and Ben and Ray were tired. Suddenly, Ben tripped on a rock and dropped his bucket. All the fish spilled out and went sliding down the hill.

  “Get ‘em, quick!” said Ray. Both boys dashed down the hill, chasing after the fish. They laughed at how funny it must look to see them chasing fish down a hill.

  “Whew,” Ben said, after all the fish were back in their buckets. “I’m glad we found all of them. I was afraid we wouldn’t have enough for a fish fry tonight.”

  “We’ll have a great fish fry,” Mama said, when she saw their catch. “I’ll make some cornbread and we’ll have some green tomato relish and soup beans.” Ben thought that was about ‘as good eatin’ as you could get.

  When supper was over, Ben hurried to their room to get Grandpa’s fiddle. Grandpa died when Ben was only five, but Ben remembered how his grandpa had played the fiddle while they all sang together. After Grandpa died, Grandma said, “I want the boys to have Grandpa’s fiddle to remember him, and learn to play it like Grandpa did.” Now it was the whole family’s most prized possession.

  Nearly every evening after the work was done, and they had eaten supper, they gathered in a circle, Papa playing, while they all sang. Ben thought Mama had the most beautiful voice! That must be what angels sound like, he mused. And Papa’s deep voice sounded so strong and comforting.

  On hot summer nights they sat outside on the porch. Sometimes a mockingbird or cardinal joined them, singing a beautiful song. ‘Old Red,’ the hound dog, would lift his nose in the air and howl a sad sounding song. Then, lying down by Ben, he covered his eyes with his paws and went to sleep.

  The summer days were passing too quickly. There was much to be done, preparing their winter store of food. And this summer would turn out to be one Ben would never forget. He and Ray had a mystery to solve.

  The boys headed for their bedroom a little earlier than usual. But first, they took the milk buckets and a rope to the chicken house, carefully tying the buckets to the inside of the door, and returned to their room to wait.

  They didn’t have to wait long before they heard the clank of the buckets, and chickens squawking. Jumping to their feet, the boys ran as fast as they could toward the chicken house. They could make out a shadowy figure, running into the woods. Ben and Ray gave chase, but whoever it was disappeared quietly into the darkness. Disappointed, the boys returned to the chicken house and got the buckets and rope, put them away, and returned to their room.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rocks! Rocks! Rocks!

  Ben muttered to himself as he hoed in the garden, a chore he dreaded more than anything. It was hard to hoe such rocky ground. Papa and Mama always made the boys pick up rocks and carry a few at a time in buckets, then pile them along the edge of the garden. They had a wall of rocks by now; still there were more. It seemed like they sprouted and multiplied!

  “How does anything grow in this rocky dirt?” Ray said.

  “It’s a miracle, I guess,” Ben replied.

  When they got tired of hoeing, Mama reminded them with one of her sayings that “Anything worth doing is worth doing well.”

  “I’m not sure this is worth doing,” Ben thought, but he didn’t dare say so.

  Ben stopped to rest for a few minutes. Picking up a stick, he hit a rock to see how far he could make it go. He didn’t see Ray bent over dumping a bucket of rocks. Ray stood up just as Ben hit the rock. It sailed right toward Ray’s head, hitting him and knocking him out cold.

  Almost too scared to speak, Ben ran to get Mama. “Come quick, Ray’s out cold!” he said.

  Mama grabbed some water and a cloth and ran to Ray. She bathed Ray’s wound and forehead, and the cold water brought Ray around. “The cut isn’t deep,” said Mama. “Come in and lie down a while. Ben can finish the hoeing by himself.”

  Ben couldn’t argue with that, since it was his fault, but he almost would rather have traded places with Ray. Ray had a big lump on his head, and it hurt for a week. Ben thought it best to treat Ray ‘real good’ for a few days! Sometimes he wished he were more cautious, like Ray, and not always causing problems.

  A few days later Mama said, “Here’s a bucket for each of you boys. I want you to pick berries for me to can.” They took the buckets and headed for the berry patches. Blackberries grew wild everywhere. In spite of the thorns on the brambles, and wasps buzzing around their heads, it didn’t take long to fill the buckets and their stomachs. Mama emptied the berries into pans; then sent Ben and Ray back for more.

  She made blackberry cobbler, canned dozens of jars of berries, and made lots of jelly. The jelly would be delicious with hot biscuits this winter.

  It was a good summer, with plenty of rain. The garden had done well, and was ready to be harvested. Ben and Ray helped pick green beans, tomatoes, corn, and other vegetables for Mama to can.

  After the jars had cooled, Mama told them, “Take the jars to the cellar and put them on shelves. Be sure to put each kind on a separate shelf.”

  The cellar was a cool underground area next to the cabin. Papa had dug it all by hand. He built the shelves to store food, and made a door with leather hinges. It lifted up, lying over on the ground, like turning a page in a book.

  Ben was just about to set his jars on a shelf when he heard a hiss. He jumped back. There among the jars was a big snake, all coiled up. It hissed again. That was enough for him! He ran to the house yelling, “Snake!”

  Papa grabbed a hoe and pulled the snake from the shelf, then took it by the tail and flung it into the yard. “It’s only a blacksnake,” he said. But Ben didn’t like being surprised like that!

  Days later, Mama said, “Today, I want you boys to dig the potatoes and put them on the rack in the cellar. Put all the little potatoes into another bucket, and bring them inside for me to can.” Ben and Ray took the potato fork and headed to the garden.

  Ben noticed some potato plants were pulled up, and there were no potatoes on them. “Ray, come look! I think someone stole some of the potatoes.” Sure enough, they found that
funny shoe print again.

  “We’ll catch him yet!” Ray promised.

  But how? The thief was coming at night. Their plan hadn’t worked out to catch him before. They’d have to figure out something soon.

  Ben and Ray worked for hours, digging potatoes, and sorting them. Finally, the job was finished, and they had a huge pile of potatoes to store in the cellar. “I don’t think we could eat this many potatoes in two years!” Ben said.

  “The wood box is empty,” Mama called to Ben and Ray. “And get some water to fill the reservoir on the stove, too.”

  Going to the woodpile out back, they carried wood, stacking it in the wood box by the cast iron cook stove.

  A firebox on the end held the wood, which heated the top of the stove and the oven. The reservoir, next to the firebox, was filled with water, giving them hot water for washing dishes. Above the cook top was a warming oven, with the stovepipe running through it. Mama put the food in it to stay hot until they were ready to eat.

  There was also a door below the firebox, to clean out the ashes from the burned wood. “I think the ashes need taken out, too,” Mama added. It was Ben or Ray’s job to take the little shovel and bucket and clean out the ashes. They took the ashes outside, and dumped them into a long wooden trough, to save for making soap.

  Ben dropped his load of wood into the box. “Yum,” he said, patting his stomach, when he saw Mama putting fried chicken and homemade bread into the warming oven. What a wonderful smell! Ben could hardly wait to eat. “We haven’t had fried chicken for a long time,” said Ben, his mouth watering with anticipation.

  It seemed like Mama spent all summer at the stove, cooking and canning. The stove helped to heat the cabin in the winter, but in the summer the heat became almost unbearable. Sometimes the cabin was so hot they slept outside, on the porch.

  As little sister Becky often did, she was on the porch, playing with her cornhusk dolls. Mama had two wooden flower boxes on the porch. Becky let out a scream. “Ow! Something stung my finger!”