“Angry?” asked Jack softly, as the child released himself and ran off to join Priscilla who was playing quietly with a turtle she had discovered.
“Of course not,” replied Desiré quickly. “How could you think such a thing?”
“I hated to do it, especially since I knew it hurt you so much; but he really needed a lesson. We couldn’t risk that sort of thing happening again; it might not turn out so pleasantly another time.”
“I know you do your best for all of us, dear,” she said, laying her head against his arm for a moment; “and don’t worry so much about what we may or may not think about what you do.”
On blankets laid on the ground, Jack and Desiré slept much of the afternoon, while the children played all kinds of games with the turtle.
All the morning the young Wistmores had been driving along roads bordered on either side by hundreds of apple trees. In the valley between the North Mountain on the Bay of Fundy side, and the South Mountain, there are seventy-five miles of orchards where are grown some of the choicest varieties of apples, many barrels of which are shipped to the United States every year.
“This is the most celebrated apple district in the world,” commented Jack.
“How gorgeous the trees must look when they are covered with blossoms,” Desiré remarked. “I think apple trees in bloom are among the most beautiful things in the world.”
“The whole section is famous,” continued Jack. “The first ships built on the American continent were launched down here on the Annapolis River; and on Allen’s Creek, which flows along one side of the fort, the first mill was put up. That was in the days of Champlain.”
They reached Annapolis Royal by this time, and Jack drove up the hills to see the remains of the fort, and point out the items of interest to the members of his family.
“Champlain sailed up the Bay of Fundy,” he said, motioning toward that body of water, “and when he saw the little inlet down there, entered by means of it, into that broad calm body of water called Annapolis Basin. The tree-covered sides of the hills which you see sloping gently to the water’s edge were dotted with lively waterfalls, and he thought it a fine place for a settlement.
“In those days,” he continued, turning toward René, “Great Beaver, who was an enemy of Glooscap, lived in Annapolis Basin with his best friend, a wolf. Now the wolf liked to sail, and Great Beaver made a big raft for him so he could go back and forth across the water. One day Mr. Wolf was lying on the top of North Mountain, resting after his sail, and he saw the Bay of Fundy. Right down to the Great Beaver he rushed, and asked him to dig a canal between the two bodies of water in order that he might have more room for his raft. Great Beaver didn’t like salt water; so he refused to spoil his own home by letting in the tide from Fundy. Clever Mr. Wolf, who knew that Glooscap and the Beaver were not good friends, went secretly to Glooscap and asked him to join the two pieces of water. Glooscap sent the lightning to split open the North Mountain, and through the narrow opening Mr. Wolf sailed gaily back and forth between the Bay of Fundy and Annapolis Basin.”
“And what became of the poor Beaver?” asked Priscilla.
“Oh, he had to go and build a new home in the Basin of Minas.”
“Poor Beaver,” commented René, adding, “Jack, where is Glooscap now?”
“He became angry at the number of white men coming to take possession of the land; so he called a big whale to carry him away to some far-off shore. The Indians think, though, that some day he will come back.”
“Oh, I wish he would,” cried the little boy; “I wish he would right now, so’s I could see him.”
Going down the hill, they reached the shores of the Basin in time to see the tide come in. Great masses of blue, green and silver water rushed in the Gap to fill to overflowing the Basin and all its tributary streams.
“What a wonderful sight!” exclaimed Desiré.
“I should think the Wolf would have been drowned,” observed René, watching the flood of water, his eyes open very wide.
“Why, he’d go up on the mountain and watch it, not stay in it,” said Priscilla in such a scornful tone that Jack and Desiré smiled.
Several days later, they had passed through many little towns and stopped in front of many an isolated house where they disposed of many or few of their wares. The dooryards were gay with flowers, now; for no one was too poor or too lazy to have a garden. Sometimes these gardens were elaborate in shape, and of fair size, with colors and varieties blended beautifully; sometimes only a clump of cheerful red or golden nasturtiums, clustering around a stump or unsightly rock.
“Just look at that field!” exclaimed Desiré, suddenly.
“What’s the matter with it?” inquired Jack.
“It’s just red with strawberries!”
“Oh, let’s get out and pick some,” proposed Priscilla.
“Don’t you think we might be able to sell them in the next town if we gathered enough?” Desiré asked Jack.
“Perhaps. There is a hotel, and lots of boarding houses in Kentville; so I’m told.”
They left the horses to graze in the shade of some trees, and the whole family, armed with various sized dishes, scattered over the field. After a couple of hours’ steady work, they transferred the berries to a basket, covered them with leaves, and continued on their way.
“Who’s going to sell them?” questioned Jack, when they were nearly to Kentville.
“Never thought of that,” confessed Desiré.
“I will,” offered Priscilla. “Let me!”
“Me too,” chimed René. “I can sell berries fine.”
“You’re a bit young, Renny,” said Jack with a smile; then, turning to Priscilla, he said, “All right, if you want to.”
Desiré looked a bit surprised at his willingness; but Jack just drew the team up in front of one of the smaller boarding houses and suggested, “Try here.”
The little girl took the basket which he handed down to her, walked boldly up the path to the front door, and knocked. Through the screen door they heard an annoyed voice say—“Now, I’ve told you—Oh, what is it, child?”
A low conversation ensued, and Priscilla flew out to the wagon again, displaying proudly a couple of silver coins.
“She’ll take some any time, she says; and she knows other places where they would.”
“How would it be,” inquired Desiré thoughtfully as they went on, “if we took time for berry picking so long as they last; even if we don’t cover so much ground, it will be clear profit.”
“We could,” said Jack slowly; “and it would be better for us all to be out of the wagon for a while.”
“In that case,” asked Desiré, “hadn’t we better camp nearby, since we know we can find quantities of berries here, and Kentville is a pretty good market.”
Jack agreed.
A most delightful spot beside a noisy brook, just outside the town, was selected as a camp site; and for two whole weeks they scoured the surrounding country for berries, taking their harvest in to Kentville once a day.
“I guess these are the last,” commented Desiré rather regretfully, as they climbed up a slope toward a bridge on their way home one afternoon.
“Oh, I see a few down there,” cried Priscilla, starting toward the edge of the river bank.
“Be careful,” called Jack, as she put one foot part way down the bank to reach some clusters beyond her, rather than walk a little farther.
His warning came too late. Even as he spoke, her foot slipped on the mud; and before she could save herself, she slid all the way down the soft slope and rolled into the river.
CHAPTER XIV
TWO MISHAPS
Fortunately the tide was out; so the water was not very deep, and while Desiré stood on the bridge and watched helplessly, and Jack was looking for a place where he could go to her assistance, Priscilla managed to get out of the water.
“Don’t come down,” she called, “you’ll fall too. I’ll be up soon.”
But the mud was very slippery; and again and again she slid back, while René shouted with laughter, and clapped his hands. Even Desiré had to smile; for Priscilla did look funny, plastered with red mud, and dripping with water. Jack again started toward her, but Desiré held him back.
“There is no use in two of you getting in that state. She’s in no danger, and since she is lighter in weight than you, she stands a much better chance of climbing up that bank. Prissy,” she called, “crawl on your hands and knees.”
The little girl obeyed, and finally reached the top, where Jack stretched out a strong hand to pull her over the edge.
“What shall I do?” she wailed, holding her sticky arms out straight from her body, and half blinded by the wet, muddy hair hanging over her face.
“I wish I knew,” said Desiré. “Can you walk home, do you think?”
“I guess so. I’ll try; but—but—I lost all my berries!”
“You look like a big berry yourself, you’re so red,” gurgled René.
At least one of the party was enjoying the incident to the utmost.
It took a long time to scrape and wash the mud off poor Priscilla, and when the task was accomplished they were exhausted.
While the others were occupied, René had been playing about by himself. Just as Priscilla looked once more like herself, the little boy ran toward the group crying at the top of his voice.
“What’s happened?” demanded Jack, advancing to meet the child and picking him up.
“Bite!” he wailed, holding out his finger.
“What bit you?”
“Long, wiggly thing,” sobbed the little fellow. “Ran away so fast.”
“Snake!” said Desiré. “Oh, Jack! What shall we do?”
“Don’t be frightened,” said the boy, calmly sitting down with the little fellow on his lap, and examining the finger carefully. He found the bite, and putting it to his lips, began to suck the blood from it while Desiré helped hold René still.
“Jack, do be careful,” she begged anxiously; “be sure not to swallow any of it,” as he paused to dispose of what he had drawn from the wound. “Be quiet, Renny; brother is trying to make you well; so you mustn’t mind if he hurts you a little.”
Priscilla, with terrified eyes, stood looking on helplessly until Desiré sent her for a box of emergency supplies which she had prepared before leaving Sissiboo.
“I hardly think it was a poisonous snake,” said Jack, when he had done all he could; “but I suppose it is best to be on the safe side. I had better take him in to Kentville to a doctor.”
“Oh, yes,” breathed Desiré, in great relief; “and let him see if you’re all right too.”
They hitched up the horses and drove into the town, and while Jack and Desiré took René to the physician’s office, Priscilla took the berries they had gathered that day to her first customer, Mrs. Auberge. They had become good friends, and the little girl naturally told her of the recent accidents.
“There are no dangerous snakes right around here,” she said soothingly; “but it does no harm to have a doctor look the boy over. So you’re going on tomorrow? I’ll miss you. How would you like to stay with me for the rest of the summer and help me with the tourists? I’ll pay you.”
“I’d have to ask Jack,” replied the child slowly, after a minute’s thought. “I’ll come back and let you know.”
She met the others just coming out of the doctor’s house.
“Renny and Jack are both all right,” Desiré cried joyfully to her little sister. “Where have you been?”
“I sold the berries to Mrs. Auberge; and—and—Jack—”
“Yes?”
“She wants me to stay here and help her for the rest of the summer, and she’ll pay me.”
Desiré glanced quickly at Jack, who stood regarding Priscilla very gravely.
“Do you want to stay?” he inquired, finally.
“It would bring in some money—I’d be glad—that is—”
“That isn’t what I asked you, Prissy. I said do you want to stay.”
“Answer Jack, dear,” urged Desiré, as the child stood silent, hanging her head. “Don’t be afraid to say just what you feel.”
“She isn’t afraid,” said Jack gently. “Do you want to stay with Mrs. Auberge, dear?”
Priscilla shook her head.
“All right,” replied her brother; “that settles it.”
“I told her I’d let her know—” began the little girl.
“Very well. Run back and thank her nicely for her offer, but say that this summer we are all going to stay together. We’ll walk on slowly, and you can catch up with us.”
Before they had gone far, they heard running steps behind them; and Priscilla came abreast, catching Jack by the hand.
“See what she gave me,” holding up a box as she spoke; “a game we can all play; and any time I want to, I can stay and help her.”
“That’s very nice of her,” said Desiré. “How wonderful people are to us everywhere.”
“It’s a good thing,” remarked Jack that night, “that tomorrow we shall return to our regular occupation and way of living. I feel as if I had had enough excitement today to last for the rest of the summer.”
“Oh, of that kind, perhaps,” agreed Desiré; “but there are other kinds; and those I hope we’ll meet. Did the doctor charge much?”
“About half what we made on the berries,” smiled Jack.
“But we’re still a little better off than when we came.”
“Yes, some; but not much.”
“Well, never mind; huckleberries are coming, and we’ll make it up on them,” decided Desiré hopefully. “Wasn’t it dear of Prissy to be willing to go to work?”
“Yes, she spoke of it again when I bade her goodnight; but I said we could support her until she is older. While it can be managed otherwise, I hate to have her cooped up in a strange house doing all kinds of odd jobs.”
“We haven’t done so badly thus far, have we?”
“No; but we haven’t made anywhere near enough to settle down somewhere and go to school.”
“But the summer isn’t over yet; and who knows what will happen before winter comes?”
“You’re a hopeful little pal, Dissy,” he said, kissing her fondly.
“Now we must begin to look for the Godet house,” said Desiré, pulling out her little blue history the next morning, when they were on the way to Wolfville.
“I was sorry we could get no information, when we passed through Wilmot, about the first Wistmore house in this country,” said Jack.
“They lived on a sheep farm when they came here from the States, and probably the place looks like all others of its kind,” replied Desiré, poring over the book.
“I think the Godet house must be the other side of Grand Pré,” observed Jack, looking over her shoulder. “We’ll go there first.”
So they turned off the main road and drove down the hill, through the straggling village, its long street bordered by spreading trees and scattered white houses far back from the road. The great marsh meadow, which was the Grand Pré of Longfellow’s poem Evangeline, has been set apart as a park, and is surrounded by a fence. By going through a gate-house, one enters the enclosure known as Acadian National Park.
As the Wistmores descended the low broad step on the park side of the gate-house, René, his eyes on the distant well of which he had heard his sisters talking, put one foot right into a very small flower-bordered pool at the left of the step. Everyone turned at the sound of the splash.
“Renny!” exclaimed Priscilla severely, “I never saw such a child for water.”
“You rolled right into the river,” retorted the little boy, “and got all red mud too!”
Jack and Desiré exchanged smiles.
For an hour the children wandered over the interesting and beautiful meadowland, dotted with large beds of gorgeous flowers.
“What a sense of spaciousness, and of peace, the
place gives one,” observed Desiré, as they stood before the little chapel, gazing about them. “Look, René, at the swallows’ nests.”
On the walls, close to the buttress which supports the sharply slanting roof, several nests were plastered.
“And is this the very same church mentioned in Evangeline?” inquired Priscilla, nearly breaking her neck to look up at the belfry, surmounted by a tall four-sided spire.
“No; but it is built on the site of that one, and the row of willows you see down there to the right grew on the main street of Grand Pré. The first settlers brought the shoots from Normandy. The well we passed on our way up is the same one from which the inhabitants of the olden village obtained their water supply. Just north of here is the Basin of Minas, where the people embarked on the ship which carried them away at the time of the Expulsion. This meadowland all around us was protected from the high tides by dykes like you saw a few weeks ago in Bear River. At one side of the Basin lies Cape Blomidon, where the amethysts are found; and—”
“Where Glooscap lived,” interrupted René, always glad to contribute to the narratives.
“Yes,” assented Jack, “where Glooscap lived. After the hay was cut from the meadows,” he continued, “cattle were turned in to graze until winter came.”
“How queer it makes one feel to be here,” observed Desiré dreamily.
They missed Priscilla at that moment, and looking around, saw her standing in front of the large bronze statue of Evangeline, which is in the centre of the park.
“She doesn’t look at all like I thought she would,” commented the little girl in disappointed tones, as the others joined her. They all gazed in silence for a moment at the sorrowful figure, looking backward at the land she was so reluctant to leave.
“You probably like to think of her, as I do, in a happier mood,” said Desiré; “but she must have been pretty sad when she went away.”
“We had better go on now,” decided Jack. So they followed the little stream which twists its way across the meadow; a mere thread in some places, in others wide enough to be bridged with single planks. Once it spread out into a fair-sized pond, covered with water lilies and guarded by a family of ducks who regarded the visitors scornfully.
The Second Girl Detective Megapack: 23 Classic Mystery Novels for Girls Page 48