Ruth Fielding on the St. Lawrence; Or, The Queer Old Man of the Thousand Islands
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CHAPTER XV
THE YELLOW LADY
There could be no further haste about the making of the picture, "TheLong Lane's Turning." Although most of the big scenes were already shot,those that remained to do held in them the more poignant action of thepiece and must be rehearsed over and over again.
Much time is sometimes spent upon a single scene--a few feet of a reel.Infinite patience, repetition and experimenting go into the making of apictured story. Infinite detail and a close attention to that detail makethe successful picture.
To stage a "big" scene may seem to be a marvelous feat of the director.But in a big scene, with a large number of actors, the latter are dividedinto groups, each group has its captain, and each individual actor has tofollow the lead of his particular captain. The groups are trained andperfected in every little motion before they come into the real scenebefore the camera.
Thus the allegorical picture that was a prologue to "The Long Lane'sTurning" had been gone over and rehearsed again and again by theprincipal actors in it, even before the company left New York City.
Now, with all these "big" scenes filmed, the more difficult work ofmaking the individual scenes of action came to the fore. Wonota had to becoached over and over again in her scenes with Mr. Grand and Miss Keith.Both the latter were well-practised screen actors and could register theordinary gamut of emotions as easily as they ate their breakfast orpowdered their noses.
With Wonota, however, it was different. In the first place, she came of atribe of people in whom it was bred to smother all expression ofemotion--even the most poignant. Wonota almost worshiped her father; butdid she ever look upon Chief Totantora with a smile of pride or withaffection beaming in her eyes?
"Not so you'd notice it," said Helen, on one occasion. "Ordinarily, asfar as her looks go, Totantora might be a stranger to her."
"Is there any wonder, then," sighed Ruth, "that we find it so hard tomake her register affection for Mr. Grand? And she already should havelearned to do that in that first picture we took out West."
"Maybe that's the reason," said Helen wickedly. "If she did not know Mr.Grand's foibles so well, she might the better show interest in him.Goodness knows he's handsome enough."
"Better than that, he can act," said Ruth thoughtfully. "Not many ofthese handsome screen heroes can do that. But perhaps if Wonota did notdisdain him so much (and she does, secretly) she could play up to himbetter."
"Is there much more for her to do?" Helen asked, with renewed interest.
"Several scenes--and some of them most important. Mr. Hooley can not giveall his time to her. I am trying to coach her in them. But there is somuch going on here at the island----"
"Why not take her away to some other place and just pound it into her?"
"Not to the Kingdom of Pipes!" laughed Ruth suddenly.
"No. Let the old pirate have that place to his heart's content. But thereare other islands."
"True enough. Fourteen hundred of them."
"Come on!" exclaimed the energetic Helen. "Let's get Willie and the _Gem_and go somewhere with Wonota. You've all day to hammer at her. Get yourcontinuity and try to get it into Wonota's head that she is deeply anddesperately in love with Grand."
In spite of Helen's brusk way of speaking, Ruth decided that her ideamight be well worth following. Helen took some knitting and aparasol--and a hamper. Ruth gathered her necessary books and script; andlikewise got Wonota. Then they boarded the launch and Willie took them upthe river to a tiny islet not far from the Kingdom of Pipes, after all.
"I don't see anybody moving over there," Helen remarked, as Willie landedthem at the islet selected. She was looking at the island on which Ruthhad had her adventure with the King of the Pipes. "It looks desertedenough. We might have gone there just as well as not."
"I feel as well satisfied to keep away from that queer old fellow," herchum said.
"Who's that?" asked Willie, the boatman, overhearing their remarks.
Ruth told him about the strange man, and Willie laughed.
"Oh! That old jigger? Was he the fellow the boss wanted we should shoooff that island? Why didn't he say so? Old Charley-Horse Pond. We allknow him about here."
"Oh!" cried Helen. "Is he crazy?"
"Not enough to make any difference. Just got a twist in his brain. Callshimself a king, does he? Mebbe he will be a duke or an emperor next time.Or a doctor. Can't tell. He gets fancies."
"And of course he is not dangerous?" said Ruth.
"Just about as dangerous as a fly," drawled Willie. "And not so much. Forflies bite--sometimes, and old Charley-Horse Pond ain't even got teeth tobite with. No, Ma'am!"
"But what are the 'pipes' he talks about? Why 'King of the Pipes'?"demanded the insistent Helen.
"Got me. Never heard of 'em," declared Willie. "Now, you ladies all righthere?"
"All right, Willie," said Ruth as the _Gem_ was backed off the island.
"I'll come for you at half past three, eh? That's all right, then," andthe boatman was off.
The three girls, really glad to be away from the crowd and the confusionof the moving picture camp, settled down to several hours ofcompanionship. Helen could be silent if she pleased, and with herknitting and a novel proceeded to curl up under a tamarack tree and buryherself for the time being.
Helen had not, however, forgotten the "inner woman," as she pronouncedit. When lunch time came she opened the covered basket which she hadbrought in addition to the book and the knitting, and produced sandwichesand cake, besides the wherewithal for the making of a cup of tea over acan of solidified alcohol. They lunched famously.
It was while they were thus engaged, and chatting, that the staccatoexhaust of a motor-boat drew their attention to the Island of Pipes. Fromthe other side, a boat was poking around into the passage leading to theAmerican shore.
"My goodness!" exclaimed Helen, "the King of the Pipes isn't in thatboat, is he?"
"Not at all," Ruth assured her. "I see nobody who looks like him amongthose men--"
"All are not men, Miss Ruth," interrupted Wonota, the keen-eyed.
"What do you mean, Wonota?" gasped Helen, whirling around to gaze againat the passing launch.
But Ruth did not say a word. She had been examining the boat closely. Shesaw it was the very speedy boat she and Chess Copley had seen out on thewider part of the river several weeks before. The launch was not movingrapidly now, but Ruth was sure that it was a powerful craft.
It was Helen who marked the figure Wonota had spoken of in the boat. Itcertainly did not appear to be a man.
"Why Ruth! See! That is a woman!"
"A yellow-faced lady," said Wonota calmly. "I saw her first, Miss Ruth."
All three of the girls on the island stared after the moving motor-boat.Ruth saw the woman. She was dressed plainly but in modern garments. Shedid not seem to be one of the summer visitors to the islands. Indeed, herclothing--such as could be seen--pointed to city breeding, but nothingwas chosen, it would seem, for wear in such a place as this. She mighthave been on a ferryboat going from shore to shore of the Hudson!
"She _is_ a yellow lady," Wonota repeated earnestly.
"I should say she was!" exclaimed Helen. "What do you think of her,Ruth?"
"I am sure I do not know what to say," the girl of the Red Mill answered."Does she look like a white woman to you, Helen?"
"She is yellow," reiterated Wonota.
"She certainly is not an Indian," observed Helen. "What say, Ruth?"
"She surely is not," agreed her chum.
"A yellow lady," murmured Wonota again, as the boat drew behind anotherisland and there remained out of sight.