A Little Maid of Old Maine Part 12

Rebby's face flushed scarlet at his words, but before she could speak, her father continued: "Well, Danna, are you ready for a day's tramp with me to-morrow? I must go up to the mill at Kwapskitchwock Falls, and we will start early."

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Danna, jumping up and clasping her father's hand.

"And perhaps we shall catch a salmon above the falls, and broil it over a fire for our dinner."

"That is what we will hope to do," replied Mr. Weston. "And, Rebby, why do you not come with us? 'Tis but a few miles, and a day in the woods will do you good."

"Why, perhaps I shall, if Mother does not need me," Rebby answered. She so seldom cared for woodland tramps that Anna gave a little exclamation of surprised delight.

"I'll make a corn-cake to take with us," Rebby added, "and since we start early I had best bake it to-night," and she went into the kitchen followed by Anna singing:

"We'll go to the forest of liberty trees, Where there are rabbits and birds and bees."

Mrs. Weston smiled as she listened. "'Twould indeed be fine if you could find a store of wild honey in the woods; 'twould be a great help," she said, measuring out the golden meal for Rebby to use for her corn-cake.

There was no b.u.t.ter or eggs to use in its making, for all food was getting scarce in most of the loyal households. Rebby scalded the meal and stirred it carefully, then added milk, and turned the batter into an iron pan which she set over the fire. When it was cooked it would be a thin crispy cake that would be appetizing and nouris.h.i.+ng. Rebby's thoughts traveled away to the dainties of the Hortons' cupboard, but she said to herself that the "spider cake," as the corn-cake was called, especially when eaten in the woods with freshly broiled salmon, would taste far better than the jellies and preserved fruits of the Hortons.

Rebby could not forget Mrs. Horton's scorn of the liberty pole.

The Westons were up at an early hour the next morning. The sun was just showing itself above the tops of the tall pines when the family sat down to their simple breakfast. Anna wore her skirt of tanned deerskin, moccasins, and her blouse of home-made flannel, while Rebecca's dress was of stout cotton. Each of the girls wore round, turban-like hats.

Anna's was trimmed with the scarlet wings of a red bird, while Rebby's had the white breast of a gull.

Mr. Weston wore deerskin breeches and moccasins and a flannel blouse. A stout leather belt about his waist carried a couple of serviceable knives, and he carried his musket, for the forest was filled with many wild animals, and the settlers were always ready to protect themselves.

Rebby carried a basket that held the corn-cake, and a flint and steel from which they would strike the spark for their noonday fire.

Anna ran along close beside her father, until the path narrowed so that only one could walk, followed by the others. The air was cool and full of the forest odors. Now and then birds flitted past them, and once or twice Anna had a glimpse of startled rabbits, which she was sure were Trit and Trot.

"If I could only catch one to give Luretta," she thought, "then she would forgive me for taking the other rabbits," for Anna's thoughts were often troubled because of the loss of Luretta's pets.

Mr. Weston stopped at one point to show his daughters an arrow marked on a tall pine and pointing east. "That is to show the beginning of the path to Chandler's River settlement," he explained. "The trail is so dim that the woodsmen have blazed the trees to show the way. There is a good store of powder and shot at Chandler's River," he added, a little thoughtfully.

Rebby looked at the arrow, and afterward she had reason to remember her father's words.

The mill at Kwapskitchwock Falls was not in use at the time of their visit, and the mill workers were in Machias. But great booms of logs, waiting to be sawed into lumber, lay all along the river banks.

The sun was high in the heavens when the little party came in sight of the falls das.h.i.+ng over the rocks.

Mr. Weston led the way to a big flat rock above the mill, and where two large beech trees cast a pleasant shade.

"You can rest here while I look over the mill," he said, "and then I will see if I can spear a salmon for our dinner."

The girls were quite ready to rest, and Rebby set the basket carefully on the rock beside them.

"Would it not be fine if we could catch a salmon and have it all cooked when Father comes back?" Anna suggested, but Rebby shook her head.

"We haven't any salmon spear, and it is quick and skilful work," she responded. "Father will be better pleased if we obey him and rest here."

From where the girls were sitting they could look some distance up the quiet stream, and it was Anna who first discovered a canoe being paddled close to the opposite sh.o.r.e.

"Look, Rebby," she said, pointing in the direction of the slow-moving craft. "Isn't that an Indian?"

Rebby looked, and after a moment answered: "Why, I suppose it is, and after salmon. But he won't come down so near the falls." But the girls watched the slow-moving canoe rather anxiously until it drew close in to the opposite sh.o.r.e, and was hidden by the overhanging branches of the trees.

Rebby decided that she would gather some dry gra.s.s and sticks for the fire, and asked Anna to go down near the mill and bring up some of the bits of wood lying about there.

"Then when Father does bring the salmon we can start a blaze right away," she said.

Anna ran off toward the mill yard, and Rebby left the shade of the big beeches to pull handfuls of the sun-dried gra.s.s.

Rebby had gone but a few steps when she heard a queer singing murmur that seemed to be just above her head. She looked up, but the sky was clear; there was no bird flying low, as she had imagined; but as she walked along the murmur became louder, and Rebby began to look about her more carefully. A short distance from the flat rock was a huge stump of a broken tree, and Rebby soon realized that the noise came from the stump, and she approached it cautiously.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "It's a honey-tree! It is! It is!" for she had seen the bees as they went steadily in a dark murmuring line, direct to the old stump.

"A honey-tree" was a fortunate discovery at any time, for it meant a store of delicious wild honey. It was, as in this case, usually a partially decayed tree where the wild bees had swarmed, and where stores of honey were concealed. Sometimes the bees had filled the cavities of the tree so full that they were forced to desert it and find new quarters; but it was evident that here they were very busy indeed.

"They will have to be smoked out," decided Rebby, who had often heard her father tell of the way in which such stores were captured. "I wish I could do it, and get some honey for dinner," she exclaimed aloud.

"Well, why not?" she heard someone say from behind her, and she turned quickly to find Paul Foster, looking so much like an Indian boy in his fringed leggins and feathered cap that it made her jump quickly.

Paul laughed at her surprise.

"I came up-stream in my canoe after salmon," he explained, "and I have speared three beauties; I saw you from across the stream, so I paddled over. You've made a great find," and he nodded toward the old stump.

"Could we smoke out the bees and get some honey, Paul?" Rebby asked eagerly. She and Paul were nearly of an age, and Paul was a friendly boy, always ready to make bows and arrows or toy boats for his little sister and her girl playmates.

"I don't see why not," he responded, as if smoking out a hive of wild bees was a very usual undertaking; "but I haven't a flint and steel," he added.

"I have, in my basket," declared Rebecca; and in a few minutes Paul and Rebecca had gathered a ma.s.s of sticks and gra.s.s, heaping it a short distance from the stump.

"Mustn't get a blaze, only a heavy smoke," said Paul as he struck the flint and steel together, and carefully sheltered the spark which the dry gra.s.s instantly caught.

At the sight of the smoke Mr. Weston came running from the mill, and with his a.s.sistance the bees were speedily disposed of.

The old stump proved well filled with honey.

"I have a bucket in my canoe," said Paul, and it was decided to fill the bucket and take home all it would hold, and to return the next day in Paul's canoe with tubs for the rest of the honey.

Paul insisted that Mr. Weston should accept one of his fine salmon to broil for their midday meal, and then Rebby exclaimed:

"Where is Danna? She went to the mill after wood before we found the honey-tree, and she isn't back yet."

"Oh! She is probably playing that she is an explorer on a journey to the South Seas," laughed Mr. Weston. "I will go after her," and he started off toward the mill, while Rebecca added wood to the fire, and Paul prepared the salmon to broil.

Mr. Weston called "Danna!" repeatedly, but there was no answer. He searched the yard and the sh.o.r.e, but there was no trace of his little daughter. He went through the big open mill, and peered into shadowy corners, but Anna was not to be found. And at last he hurried back to tell Paul and Rebby, and to have them help him in his search for the missing girl.

CHAPTER XIII

DOWN THE RIVER