“We didn’t count on a pour like this while we were on the road,” said Jack. “Too bad we were not near enough to a town to get lodgings.”
“But we could hardly afford that; and besides, this is going to be lots of fun. Priscilla, you and René run up and down in that dry path over there while we fix things,” directed Desiré.
“The boughs will be too wet to use for beds,” said Jack, moving the trunk close to the box at the very back of the wagon.
“We’ll just spread the blankets on the floor, then,” declared Desiré, briskly.
“But you’ll be wretchedly uncomfortable,” objected her brother.
“Won’t hurt us a bit once in a while. I’ll hang this rubber blanket in front of the seat, and a sheet back of it; and with the side curtains down, and a blanket to spread over you, you’ll be fairly well off, won’t you?” she asked, working rapidly as she talked.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t bother about me.”
When everything was ready, they called the two children and settled down for the night.
“Don’t be frightened if you hear a noise once in a while,” said Jack, as they settled down; “for I shall have to turn around occasionally to stretch my legs.”
“Yes, poor boy; they are far too long for your bed tonight. I hope Renny won’t roll off the trunk; but if he does, he’ll fall on top of us and won’t be hurt.”
“Oh, let’s go—to—sleep—” yawned Priscilla.
“An excellent idea,” agreed Jack; and the little family lay quietly listening to the drip of the rain until they fell asleep.
All night long Desiré dreamed of papering the old Godet house, inside and out, with mysterious figures and letters, which fell off as fast as she pasted them onto it.
The sun was shining brightly as they drove down the hillside at Bear River the second morning after, and into the ravine where dyked lands border the river. Hundreds of cherry trees loaded with brilliant fruit were on every side, and on the water was clustered the craft of those who were to take part in the sports later in the day.
“What funny river banks,” commented Priscilla.
“The ground is below the level of the river,” explained Jack; “and the banks have to be built up of interlaced tree trunks filled in with clay to keep the water from running over the land. They are called dykes.”
“Indians!” cried René, full of excitement, pointing to a group nearby.
Already great numbers of them had come from a neighboring reservation for the games. Under the heavily loaded trees, people from far and wide wandered about, tasting first one variety of fruit and then another. Groups of tourists watched from the roadside, or took part in the feasting.
Jack found a safe place for the wagon, and, after locking it, took his little family to obtain their share of the cherries which are free to all on that particular day in mid-July each year. Shortly before noon, they carried their lunch to a shady slope from which they had a good view of the place where the sports were to be held. By two o’clock, the fun was in full swing. All kinds of races, on both land and water; throwing contests; log rolling tests; and games of skill or endurance. Anyone could take part, and Desiré urged Jack to enter some of them; but he preferred to remain a spectator. He loved all kinds of sports, and was perfectly fearless; but the chance of possible injury now, when he was the head of the family, kept him from taking part. The Indians were the most clever participants, and frequently won, much to René’s delight.
“The youngster sure likes the Indians,” observed a man who sat next to Jack. “Used to be scared of ’em when I was a kid. You ought to take him to the St. Anne’s celebration some time.”
“What’s that?” inquired Jack.
“Every year the Indians make a pilgrimage to the Island of the Holy Family, round the 21st of July, and live up there in birch bark tepees until after the feast, on the 26th.”
“What do they do?” asked Desiré, leaning forward to look at the narrator.
“Well, every morning they go to Mass and attend to all their religious duties, and very often there are weddings and First Communions. If there’s been any quarreling or disputing during the year, the differences are patched up. Then in the evenings they dance and play games.”
“What kind of games?” asked René, who was eagerly listening to every word.
“Oh, whinny, hatchet throwing, deer foot, wheel and stick, hunt the button—”
“Oh, I can play that,” interrupted René, with just satisfaction.
“It’s a sight worth going a distance to see,” concluded the man.
“I imagine so,” replied Jack; “but I’m afraid we won’t get there this year. I have old Simon’s traveling store this summer, and—”
“You have? Then you want to open it up when these games are over; for a crowd like this is almost always in need of some kind of supplies. Anyway, they’re sure to buy something, whether they need it or not.”
Jack acted on the suggestion, and made so many sales that when the people finally drifted homeward it was too late to go on that night. They put up in a woods just outside of the town, and after supper Desiré made a discovery that did not altogether please her.
“Did you know that some Indians are camped a little farther down the road?” she asked Jack.
“Yes. They may be on their way to the festival of St. Anne’s that the man spoke of this afternoon. I’m sure they’re quite harmless.”
“Oh, I want to see them!” exclaimed René, starting up.
With a quick move, Jack caught the end of the child’s blouse and prevented his departure.
“You’ve seen plenty of Indians today to last you for one while, young man. Besides, it’s your bedtime.”
“No! No!” wailed René, twisting in his brother’s grasp.
“He’s tired,” murmured Desiré sympathetically.
“Can’t act like this, even if he is,” said Jack firmly. “René, behave yourself or you’ll have to be punished.”
The tantrum showed no signs of abating; so Jack promptly picked him up and started for a nearby stream, much to his sister’s distress; though she never dreamed of interfering when Jack decided that disciplinary measures were necessary.
Upon reaching the brook, Jack held the boy securely and ducked him a couple of times. Since the purpose of the procedure was punishment, it was rather disconcerting to have the child’s tantrum cries change suddenly into squeals of delight.
“Oh, Jack,” he sputtered, “do it again. I love the water.”
Even the serious Jack, in spite of his stern resolves, was quite overcome by the humor of the situation; so he decided to say no more about punishment. However, when he got back to the wagon, he rubbed the little fellow down and put him to bed, refusing Desiré’s assistance. He and Desiré enjoyed a good laugh over the incident when the younger children were safe in bed.
“Well, this time tomorrow night, I hope we’ll be in Annapolis Royal,” he said, shortly after; “and being a longish drive, I guess we’d better go to bed now.”
That interesting old town was not to see them on the morrow, however.
Jack was the first to waken on the following morning, much later than usual, and was surprised to find his tent mate gone. Peering out toward the wagon, he saw Desiré getting out of the back of it.
“Dissy,” he called, using René’s name for her.
“Yes? I was just going to waken you. I’m awfully sorry, but we overslept this morning—”
“Have you seen René?” he interrupted.
“No! Isn’t he with you?”
Desiré stood still, letting the pan which she had in her hand fall to the ground.
CHAPTER XII
A SEARCH FOR RENÉ
“He was gone when I woke up,” called Jack, who had been dressing rapidly. He came out of the tent and began looking about the wagon, tent, and surrounding woods in the persistent fashion of people, who, under like circumstances, feel that although search is useless, action o
f some kind is an immediate necessity.
“What ever shall we do?” whispered Desiré, tears streaming down her cheeks, when Jack returned from a fruitless search of the nearby places.
“Don’t get excited, dear,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders. “He could have come to no harm, and I’ll find him all right.”
“But you must have help. Oh, I wish we were near the Riboux family!”
“We’ll drive back into the town to make inquiry, and then see what can be done. I know he’s not around here; for I’ve searched everywhere.”
“The—the brook?” faltered Desiré.
“Yes, I rather thought I might find him playing there. He enjoyed it so much last night,” he added, with a feeble effort at a smile, “but there’s no sign of him. Anyway, the water’s not deep enough to drown a dog, much less a hearty youngster.”
“Jack—the Indians—”
“Now, Desiré, don’t let your imagination run away with you. They’re perfectly harmless.”
“What I mean is, could Renny be with them?”
“The camp’s gone. They must have pulled out at daybreak—”
“Well, but he may have followed them,” persisted Desiré. “You know how wild he was to go over there last night.”
“It’s a possibility,” replied Jack, thoughtfully. “Probably you’re right. If so, he is perfectly safe; and I’ll find out in town how to reach them. We’d better eat, and then drive back.”
They roused Priscilla, who began to cry as soon as she heard of her brother’s disappearance, and continued until Jack said gravely—
“Don’t make matters worse, Prissy; you can help by being cheerful. Never cry until you’re sure there is something to cry about. It’s a waste of good energy.”
“Now for town,” he continued, as they at last climbed into the wagon which seemed strangely empty without the little boy. Jack was assuming a forced cheeriness, which he was far from feeling; for in spite of his advice to Desiré, he was consumed with anxiety. He felt relieved, now, at the outcome of the “punishment” last night; if René had minded, they might think he had run away. But perhaps he had been wrong in adopting this kind of a life, with the children. If anything happened to them!
He was interrupted by hearing Desiré say—
“Prissy, you sit in the back of the wagon and keep watch on the road to see if you can discover any traces of René.”
“Jack, dear,” she went on softly, as they drove into Bear River again, “please don’t blame yourself for what has happened. It surely wasn’t your fault, or anybody’s for that matter. He might have wandered off, even if we’d been at home; and I feel sure he is safe with the Indians.”
“You’re a comfort, Dissy,” replied her brother, managing a half smile.
In front of the post office stood the very man who had given them the information concerning the Indians’ pilgrimage, on the preceding day; and, pulling up, Jack told him in a few words what had happened.
“Now that’s too bad,” replied the man with genuine concern, resting one foot on the wheel hub; “if I was you—”
“Is it far to the Island of the Holy Family?” interrupted Desiré.
“Oh, yes; and come to think on’t, I don’t suppose that band was goin’ there anyhow; they’d not get there in time. They’re probably on their way back to the reservation.”
“Then where could we look for them?” questioned Jack, his heart sinking at the destruction of their hopes.
“If I was you, I’d keep right along this road toward Annapolis Royal, and perhaps you’ll catch up with them. They don’t travel fast, and you could ask in every town if they’d been through. There’s no real cause for you to worry, friends, for the little chap will be well treated. The Indians like little folks.”
Jack looked at Desiré.
“It’s good advice, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Perhaps,” he replied doubtfully, turning the team around, and thanking the man for his help.
“Good luck to you,” he called, as they started off; and Priscilla, leaning out of the back of the wagon, waved a goodbye.
All day long they drove, almost in silence, stopping only for a hurried lunch. Toward evening, when the hills had turned to red purple, they drove across a quaint covered bridge—that is, one which has a roof and solid sides of wood, like a house—over a stream whose sparkling, merry water was as yellow as gold from the reflection of the setting sun.
“I’m awfully hungry,” sighed Priscilla.
“I was just going to propose that we stop under these oaks for supper,” said Desiré. “We can’t live without eating.”
CHAPTER XIII
INDIANS AND STRAWBERRIES
“Should you mind driving all night?” asked Jack, as they prepared to start on after the meal and a short rest.
“Not a bit, if you will take turns driving,” replied Desiré promptly. “Priscilla can stretch out on the blankets, and you and I alternate at the reins.”
“The Indians have such a start on us,” went on Jack. “You see in the first place they left earlier; and then we lost all the time of our search, and going to Bear River and back; and it’s important to catch up as soon as possible, lest they should leave the road somewhere and take a crosscut to the reservation.”
“Of course,” assented Desiré.
Darkness fell; the stars came out; and the full moon gave them light enough to follow the winding road. Several times during the night Desiré persuaded Jack to let her guide Dolly and Dapple while he rested and dozed in the corner of the seat.
On past dark farmhouses whose occupants were sound asleep; past somber, solemn woods, so beautiful in the daylight, but so dense, mysterious, almost terrifying at night; across murmuring black streams; up long hills which made the tired horses breathe heavily, and down the other side where one had to hold a tight rein to keep the faithful animals from stumbling. Occasionally a bat swooped low enough to make Desiré duck her head with fright, and once, while Jack was napping, she caught sight of a huge dark bulk near the edge of a woods; but it disappeared before the snorting horses could be urged onward.
At last the moonlight darkness faded to grey; then to a lighter grey; the sky was slashed with faint rose, growing rapidly deeper and mingling with gold streaks, until the sun climbed up to survey the land; and another day had come.
“Look, Jack!” cried Desiré, elbowing her sleeping brother.
“Where?” he asked, yawning.
“In that hollow!”
They were on the crest of a hill, from which they could look down into a nearby valley.
“Tents!” exclaimed the boy, now fully aroused.
“Indians!” shouted Priscilla, who, wakened by their voices, had crept up to look over their shoulders.
“Prissy! How you scared me!” cried her sister, jumping violently.
Jack took the reins, and, as fast as the team could travel, headed for the encampment. They reached their objective just as the Indians were beginning to break camp. Everything was in confusion; braves striding here and there; squaws shouldering the big bundles; children crying; dogs barking. Running back and forth from one group to another, they spied René.
Throwing the reins to Desiré, Jack jumped down and approached an Indian who seemed to be directing affairs. With some difficulty, he made the red man understand his story. Partly by signs, partly by broken English, the chief replied that “two suns ago they had found strange white child among them. Where belong, they not know. Going on to reservation. Then send back young brave who know English to find boy’s people.”
At that moment, René caught sight of his brother, ran across the grass, and threw himself into Jack’s arms, crying:
“I found Indians, Jack! I found Indians! Ain’t they fine?”
“Yes, I see you did, and they are fine,” replied the boy gravely, handing him over to Desiré, who had left the team and hurried toward them. “Put him in the wagon, and bring me all the can
dy we have.”
In a moment the girl was back again with several jars of candy. Jack distributed the gaily colored sticks to all the little Indian children, and tried to make the chief understand his gratitude for the care taken of René.
The tribe then struck out through the woods, away from the main road.
“How lucky that we caught up to them right here,” said Desiré, watching them, while René waved his hand and shouted goodbyes.
“You’re a bad, bad boy,” declared Priscilla, “to run away like that and frighten us all!”
René gave her a look which was a compound of disgust and astonishment.
“They were nice to me, and I had a good time. I bet you wish you’d been along. When you ran away, you didn’t go with nice Indians, but a smelly old cat who—”
“Never mind, children,” interrupted Jack, as he started the horses and they drove up a slight elevation to a juniper grove.
“We’ll stay here for a while to let the team rest, and incidentally get some ourselves,” he decreed, turning in the shade.
While he made Dolly and Dapple comfortable, Desiré had been trying to make René understand how much trouble he had caused. “You were very naughty,” she was saying, as Jack joined them.
“Yes,” agreed the older boy, “and he’ll have to be punished to make him remember it.”
Jack’s tone made Desiré give him an entreating look; but he pretended not to see.
“Come with me, René,” he said quietly, breaking a small switch from a nearby tree, and leading the child farther into the grove.
A short silence, then a little boy’s cries could be heard; another silence, during which Desiré worked madly at anything she could think of to keep her mind off of what was going on within the woods. Although she recognized the need of drastic punishment in this instance, yet she hated to have the baby hurt. After what seemed like hours, really not more than five or ten minutes, the brothers emerged from among the trees, hand in hand.
“I’m never, never going to run away again, Dissy,” promised the little boy, grasping her around the neck as she stooped to put her arms around him.
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 47