CHAPTER VIII
AT CHIPPEWA BAY
Helen pronounced that exodus from the Red Mill "some hustle;" and reallyit was but a brief time that Ruth allowed for packing, dressing, andgetting to Cheslow for the eight-forty-five train, bound north. This wasa through train with sleeping cars, and stopped at Cheslow only onspecial occasions. Ruth determined that this was one of those occasions.
She hustled Ben, the hired man, off to town ahead, and by the goodoffices of Mercy Curtis a compartment and berth were obtained on thatespecial train. Mercy kept the wires hot arranging this for her friend.
Meanwhile, Helen rushed home in her car, packed her trunk and bag, hadthem loaded into the front of the car, and drove up the road again to theRed Mill where she picked up the two Indians and Ruth. Uncle Jabez andAunt Alvirah were sorry enough to see Ruth go; but this trip promised notto be a long one, for the picture should be made in five or six weeks.
The Cameron's chauffeur had been instructed by Helen to "burn up theroad," for there was none too much time before the train was due, and hedid as he was ordered. Indeed, there were ten minutes to spare when theyreached the station platform, and the girls spent that time chatting withMercy Curtis leaning out of her window of the telegraph office.
"So, you are off on your travels again," said the lame girl. "I wish Iwas a butterfly of fashion, too."
"'Butterfly,'!" scoffed Helen. "Ruth, at least, is no butterfly. Shemight be called a busy bee with more truth."
"Ah-ha, Miss Helen!" returned Mercy, shaking her finger, "you are theimprovident grasshopper--no less."
Helen giggled. "Tom says that that old proverb, 'Go to the ant, thousluggard;' should read: 'Go to the ant and slug her.' He does not lovework any more than I do."
Again Ruth's expression of countenance was one of disapproval, but shemade no comment on Tom. The train thundered toward the station, slowingdown as though resenting being stopped in its swift career for even a fewmoments.
Mr. Curtis, the station master, made a point himself of seeing that thebaggage of the party was put into the baggage car. The conductor andporter helped the girls aboard, and they found their sections.
Ruth was determined that Wonota should not get out of her sight again,and the Indian girl was to occupy a berth in the stateroom. Totantora wasto have had the berth; but when he saw it made up and noted the crampedand narrow quarters offered him, he shook his head decidedly. He spentthe night in the porter's little room at the end of the car, and theporter, when he found out Totantora was an Indian chief, did not dareobject for fear of being scalped!
The party reached Hammond the following afternoon. Here they alightedinstead of at Redwood, the more popular station of those wishing to reachthe Thousand Islands by way of the electric road to Alexandria Bay. Ruthand her party were going direct to Chippewa Bay, for it was upon some ofthe more northern of the fourteen hundred or more isles that constitutethe "Thousand Islands" that Mr. Hammond had arranged for the filmcompany's activities at this time.
A big touring car was waiting for the party, for one of the telegramsRuth had caused to be sent the evening before was to Mr. Hammond, andthey were glad to leave the Pullman and get into the open air. Totantora,even, desired to walk to Chippewa Bay, for he was tired of the whiteman's means of locomotion. Ruth and Wonota would not hear to this.
"I guess we have eluded Bilby," said the girl of the Red Mill; "but Ishall not feel that Wonota is safe, Totantora, unless you are near her atall times. You must keep watch of your daughter. She is a valuablepossession."
For once Totantora smiled--although it was grimly.
"A squaw did not use to be counted for much in my nation," he said. "ButWonota is not like the old squaws."
"Wonota is quite an up-to-date young woman, let me tell you, MrTotantora," Helen told him briskly.
The party remained over night at a small hotel at Chippewa Bay; but inthe morning Ruth and her companions entered a motor launch and weretransported to an island where the film producing company had beenestablished in several bungalows which Mr. Hammond had rented for thetime of their stay.
The water between the small islands was as calm as a mill pond; but theparty caught glimpses from the launch of the breadth of the St. Lawrence,its Canadian shore being merely a misty blue line that morning. The rockyand wooded islands were extremely beautiful and as romantic in appearanceas the wilderness always is. Now and then a privately owned island,improved by landscape gardening into a modern summer estate, offeredcontrast to the wilder isles.
The girls spent most of the day in getting settled. No work on the newpicture could be done for a couple of days, and Helen, naturally, lookedfor amusement. There were canoes as well as motor boats, and both thechums were fond of canoeing. Wonota, of course, was mistress of thepaddle; and with her the two white girls selected a roomy canoe and setout toward evening on a journey of exploration among the closer islands.
One of the largest islands in the group was in sight--Grenadier Island;but that they learned was beyond the American line. They saw it only froma distance, keeping close to the New York shore as they did on this briefvoyage. The tall tamaracks and the other trees crowded some of theislands until they seemed veritable jungles.
Some few, however, were bold and precipitous in the extreme. "Just thesort of place for pirate dens and robber caves," Helen declared,shivering gleefully.
"What a romantic puss you are," laughed Ruth.
"Well, those cracks in the rock yonder look so dark and dismal. And there_might_ be dark-skinned men with red bandanas bound around their heads,and knives in their belts, along with the rest of the scenery, Ruthie,"complained Helen.
Wonota stared at her. "Do you mean, Miss Helen, that there arecholos--are greasers--in these woods? My geography book that I studyshows this country to be far, far from Mexico."
"Oh, my aunt!" chuckled Helen. "She thinks nobody but Mexicans can weargay handkerchiefs bound about their noble brows. Wait till you seesure-enough pirates--"
"That is perfect nonsense, Wonota," said Ruth, warningly. "Helen is onlyin fun."
"Ah," said the practical Indian maid, "I understand English--andAmerican; only I do not always grasp the--er--humor, do you call it?"
"Good!" applauded Ruth. "Serves you right, Helen, for your sillynonsense."
"The Indians' fun is different," explained Wonota, not wishing to offendthe white girl.
"You are a pair of old sober-sides, that is what is the matter," declaredHelen gaily. "Oh, Ruth! drive the canoe ashore yonder--on that rockybeach. Did you ever see such ferns?"
They brought the canoe carefully in to the shore, landing on a slopingrock which was moss-grown above the mark of the last flood. Ruth fastenedthe tow-rope to the staff of a slender sapling. Wonota got out to helpHelen gather some of the more delicately fronded ferns. Ruth turned herback upon them and began climbing what seemed to be a path among theboulders and trees.
This was not a very large island, and it was well out from the Americanshore, but inside the line between the States and Canada. Although thepath Ruth followed seemed well defined, she scarcely thought the islandwas inhabited.
As they had paddled past it in the canoe there had been no sign of man'spresence. It had been left in the state of nature, and nothing, itseemed, had been done to change its appearance from the time that thefirst white man had seen it.
Some rods up the ascent Ruth came to an open place--a table of rock thatmight really have been a giant's dining-table, so flat and perfectlyshaped it was. She could look down upon Helen and Wonota, and they lookedup and called to her.
"Look out for the pirates!" shouted Helen, with laughter.
Ruth waved her hand, smiling, and, crossing the rock, parted the brushand stepped out of sight of her friends. Two steps she took through theclinging bushes when a most surprising figure started up before her.
There was plenty of light, even if the sun had gone down. She was notuncertain at all as to the nature of the figure that confronted her
--thatof a man.
She saw almost instantly that the old man's brown eyes were more like achild's in expression than like an angry man's. He grinned at her, butthe grimace was involuntary or meaningless.
"Hush!" he whispered. "Hush!"
Ruth remained both quiet and speechless, looking into his wrinkled oldface calmly. She thought he must be a beggar from his clothing, but shecould not imagine him a robber, nor even one of Helen's "pirates." As shesaid nothing the old man repeated his sibilant warning:
"Hush!"
"I am 'hushing' just as hard as I can," whispered the girl in return, andsmiling a little now. "Why must I 'hush'?"
"Hush!" he said again, quite as earnestly. "You are in danger of yourlife, young woman."
"Not from you, I am sure," she returned. "You would not try to hurt me."
"Hush!" he repeated, looking back over his shoulder into the thickerwood. "They may come at any moment now. And although I am their king,they would kill you. You see, kings aren't as powerful now as they usedto be before the war."
"So I understand," agreed Ruth soberly. "But who are you king of--orwhat?"
"I am King of the Pipes," whispered the old man. "You don't know whatthat means," he added, scanning her puzzled face. "No. And that's thesecret. You cannot be told."
"Oh," murmured Ruth, somewhat amused, yet pitying his evident mentalstate.
"Hush!" he said again. "You are in danger. Go away from this place atonce, and don't come here again. If my courtiers see you--Ha! Off withher head! I shall have to follow the kingly custom. It is not my fault,"he added, in the same low tone, shaking his head mournfully. "We kingshave to lead our lives, you know."
"It must be a dreadful life, if you have to order people's heads cut offwhen they have done you no harm," Ruth ventured.
"But my people would not believe that you would do no harm," heexplained. "I can see that you are quite harmless. But they have not theintelligence I possess. You understand?"
"Quite," said Ruth. "And I will go right away. Thank you for yourkindness."
"That is right, young woman. Go away. And do not return. It is not safehere."
"Can't--can't I do anything for you?"
"Hush!" warned the old man. "No, I do not think you can. I do not care todivide my power with any consort. And, unless you are of noble blood Icould not make you Queen of the Pipes. That would never do. Such amesalliance would never do. My people would never stand for it--oh,never!"
"I quite understand that," said Ruth, having difficulty to keep fromsmiling.
"Now go, young woman," the man said pompously. "And do not return."
"I will obey you," said Ruth soberly. "If you are sure I cannot helpyou."
"Hush!" he warned her again, waving his hand. "They are likely to come atany moment. And then--"
The girl backed through the bushes and stepped upon the table-like rock.She would have bade him good-bye, but he hissed after her anothersibilant "hush!" and disappeared as mysteriously as he had come.
Ruth descended to the canoe and waited until they were well away from theisland before she said a word to the other girls about the queer old man.
Ruth Fielding on the St. Lawrence; Or, The Queer Old Man of the Thousand Islands Page 8
