CHAPTER V.
JACK was the first to wake in the delicious stillness of the morning.When his mother opened her eyes a little later, she found him sitting upbeside her with a look of delight and wonder on his face.
"The river talks in its sleep," he said, leaning over her with shiningeyes.
"What does it say, Jackie-boy?" Mrs. Merrithew asked.
"I don't know the words,--yet," he answered, "but I will some day."
"Yes, I believe you will, dear," his mother said, with a smile and asigh, for she firmly believed that her boy, with his vivid imaginationand quick apprehension, had the life of a poet before him.
Just then a shout from the boys' tent proclaimed that the twins wereawake; then Mr. Merrithew's cheery voice was heard, and soon the campwas alive with greetings and laughter. Under Mr. Merrithew's direction(and with his active assistance), a cooking-place was soon made, and abright fire inviting to preparations for breakfast. The device forcooking consisted of two strong upright sticks with forked tops, and aheavy horizontal pole resting upon them. On this pole two pothooks werefastened, from which hung the pot and kettle, and the fire was kindledunder it. Then a little circle of flat stones was made for thefrying-pan, the pot and kettle were filled with fresh water, and Susan'soutfit was complete.
Pending the erection of a "camp wash-stand," and the choice of a safeand suitable bathing-place, faces and hands were washed in the riveramid much laughter, and with careful balancing on stones in theshallows. The toilets were barely completed when three toots on thehorn announced that breakfast was ready. A long table and benches wereamong the furniture which Doctor Grey and Mr. Merrithew had planned tomake; until their construction, they were glad to group themselves,picnic-fashion, around a table-cloth on the ground. The way thatbreakfast was disposed of showed that the true camp appetites had begunalready to assert themselves. Porridge and molasses, beans, bacon andeggs, and great piles of brown bread and butter, vanished like smoke.Jackie astonished the party (and alarmed his mother) by quietlydisposing of a cup of strong coffee, passed to him by mistake, andhanding it back to be refilled with the comment that it was "much moresatisfyinger than milk."
After breakfast they all set to work with enthusiasm to make camp morecomfortable. Susan washed dishes and arranged the provision tent withhousewifely zeal; Mrs. Merrithew and Mrs. Grey brought the blankets out,and spread them on the grass to air, drove shingle-nails far up on thetent-poles to hold watches, pin-cushions, and innumerable small butnecessary articles, and superintended the stretching of a rope from onepole to another, about a foot from the ridge-pole. This last arrangementproved most useful, all the garments not in use being hung over it, sothat the chaperons' tent, at least, was kept in good order. Thegentlemen busied themselves in building the promised table and seats.Mr. Andrews had told them to make use of anything they wanted on hisisland, so the twins had hunted about till they discovered a pile ofboards near one of the barns. These served admirably for the necessaryfurniture, and after that was finished several cosy seats were made, bydegrees, in favourite nooks along the bank. The morning passed withalmost incredible swiftness, and even the youngest (and hungriest) ofthe campers could scarcely believe their ears when the horn blew fordinner.
In the afternoon some, bearing cushions and shawls, chose shady spotsfor a read and a doze; some set off in the canoes for a lazy paddle; andothers organized themselves into an exploring party to visit thedeserted house. Marjorie and Dora, Miss Covert, and Will Graham formedthe latter group. The stone house was a curious structure, with an airof solidity about it even in its neglected and failing condition. It hadbeen built many years before by an Englishman, who did not know theriver's possibilities in the way of spring freshets. When he found thathe had built his house too near the shore, and that April brought water,ice, and debris of many sorts knocking at his doors and battering in hiswindows, he promptly, if ruefully, abandoned it to time and theelements. It might, long ago, have been so arranged and protected as tomake it a very pleasant summer residence, but, instead, it was now usedonly for a week or two in haying-time, when the haymakers slept and atein its basement,--for this quaint little house had a basement, with akitchen, dining-room, and storeroom. Our visitors, having gainedentrance to the hall by a very ruinous flight of steps and a battereddoor, descended to the basement first, admired the fireplace in thekitchen, and looked rather askance at the deep pile of straw in thedining-room, where the haymakers had slept. There was a rough table inone corner of the room, and on it some tin cups and plates and a pieceof very dry bread. The haying on the island was about half-done; therewas a short intermission in the work now, but it was to begin again verysoon.
They found nothing else of especial interest in the basement, so went tothe hall above. Here were two good-sized rooms, one on each side of thehall. Each had a fine, deep fireplace, and in one were two old-fashionedwooden armchairs and a long table. The windows--two in each room--werenarrow and high, and had small panes and deep window-seats.
"Oh, what fun it would be to play keeping-house here, Dora!" Marjoriecried.
"Wouldn't it!" Dora answered. "Let us, Marjorie! Let us pretend it isours, and choose our rooms, and furnish it!"
"That will be fine," Marjorie answered, fervently, and soon the littlegirls were deep in a most delightful air-castle.
"Let us play, too," said Will, persuasively, and Katherine answeredwithout hesitation:
"Yes, let us! I feel just like a child here, and could play with a dollif I had one!"
"Well,--let me see; we will begin by deciding about the rooms," saidWill. "Let us have this for the study,--shall we?--and put the booksall along this wall opposite the windows!"
And so these two "children of a larger growth" played house with almostas much zest as Marjorie and Dora,--and greatly to the amusement anddelight of the latter couple when they caught a word or two of theirmurmured conversation. Up-stairs were four rather small rooms withsloping ceilings, and in the middle of the house, just over the frontdoor, a dear little room without the slope, and with a dormer-window.
"This shall be our boudoir," Dora said, as they entered, and thenstopped and exclaimed in surprise, for against one wall stood a piano!Almost the ghost of a piano, or the skeleton, rather,--at the very best,a piano in the last stage of decrepitude, but still a piano. Itsrosewood frame had been whittled, chopped, and generally ill-treated,and more than half its yellow keys were gone, but oh, wonder ofwonders, some of those remaining gave a thin, unearthly sound whenstruck! It seemed almost like something alive that had been deserted,and the little group gathered around it with sympathetic exclamations.
While they were talking and wondering about it, lively voices proclaimedthe approach of the twins.
"We won't say anything about our housekeeping play," said Dora, hastily,turning to Mr. Graham, and Marjorie loyally added, "except to mother."
"All right, if you like," the student agreed, and Miss Covert quicklyadded her assent. The twins admired the stone house, the fireplaces, andthe piano, but with rather an abstracted manner. Soon the cause of theirabsent-mindedness transpired. Mr. Merrithew had met some Indians thatafternoon, when they were out paddling, and had bought a salmon fromthem. This had led to a conversation about salmon-spearing, and theIndians had promised to come the following night, and show them how itwas done. They could take one person in each canoe, and Mr. Merrithewhad said that Carl and Hugh should be the ones. Of course they weregreatly excited over this prospect, and chattered about it all the wayback to the tents.
"A GREAT BONFIRE WAS BUILT"]
That evening, when dusk had settled down, a great bonfire was built, andthey all sat around it on rugs and shawls, in genuine camp-fashion.First, some of the favourite games were played,--proverbs, "coffee-pot,"characters, and then rigmarole, most fascinating of all. Rigmarole, beit known, is a tale told "from mouth to mouth," one beginning it andtelling till his invention begins to flag or he thinks his time is up,then stopping suddenly and handing it on to his
next neighbour. Theresult is generally a very funny, and sometimes quite exciting,medley. To-night Mr. Merrithew began the story, and his contribution(wherein figured a dragon, an enchanted princess, and a deaf-and-dumbknight) was so absorbing that there was a general protest when hestopped. But the romancer was quite relentless, and his next neighbourhad to continue as best he could. Even Jackie contributed some startlingincidents to the narrative, and when at last Mrs. Grey ended it with thetime-honoured (and just at present, most unfortunately, out-of-fashion!)assurance that they all, even the dragon, "lived happy ever after,"there was a burst of laughter and applause. Then some one began to sing,and one after another the dear old songs rose through the balmy night.Sometimes there were solos, but every now and then a chorus in which allcould join. Dora sang every French song she knew,--"A la ClaireFontaine" ("At the Clear Fountain"), "Malbrouck," and "Entre Paris etSaint-Denis" ("Between Paris and St. Denis") proving the favourites.Mrs. Grey, who declared she had not sung for years, ventured on "TheCanadian Boat-Song" and "Her bright smile haunts me still." At last,when voices began to grow drowsy and the fire burned low, they sang,"The Maple-Leaf For Ever" and "Our Own Canadian Home," then rose andjoined in the camp-hymn,--"For ever with the Lord," with its:
"And nightly pitch our moving tents A day's march nearer home."
The next day seemed to fly, to every one, at least, but Carl and Hugh.Their hearts were so set on the salmon-spearing that for them the timewent slowly enough till night brought the four Indians with theirtorches and spears. Doctor Grey and Mr. Merrithew walked along the shoreto see what they could of the proceedings, but the rest--and evenWill--were content to sit around the fire as before. Carl sat in themiddle of one canoe, and Hugh in the other, both greatly excited andboth trying to think themselves quite cool. Only the steersmenpaddled,--the bowmen kneeling erect and watchful, with their spears inreadiness. (The salmon-spear is a long ash shaft, with two wooden prongsand a metal barb between them. The spearing of salmon, by the way, isrestricted by law to the Indians, and any white man who undertakes it isliable to a fine.) Sticking up in the bow of each canoe was a torch,made of a roll of birch-bark fastened in the end of a split stick. Thered-gold flare of these torches threw a crimson reflection on the darkwater, and shone on the yellow sides of the birches, and the intent,dusky faces of the fishermen watching for their prey. Slowly, silently,they paddled up the stream, till at last the silvery sides of amagnificent fish gleamed in the red light. Then, like a flash, a spearstruck down, there was a brief struggle, and the captive lay gasping inthe foremost canoe. It was too much for Hugh. He had enjoyed with allhis boyish heart the beauty and the weirdness of the scene, but thebeautiful great fish, with the spear-wound in his back,--well, that wasdifferent. He was not sorry that the Indians met with no more luck, andwas very silent when the others questioned them, on their return, as tothe joys of salmon-spearing. When he confided to Carl his hatred of the"sport," the latter shook his head doubtfully.
"But you will help eat that salmon to-morrow," he said.
"Well,--perhaps," Hugh answered, "but, all the same, it's no fun to seethings killed, and I'm not going to if I can help it!"
The fortnight of camp life passed like a dream, and it is hard to tellwho was most sorry when the day of departure came. Dora, who had writtena regular diary-letter to her father and mother, and begun one of thestories that were to be like Mrs. Ewing's, said that never in all herlife had she had such a beautiful time. Katherine Covert, with life-longfriends to "remember camp by," and all sorts of happy possibilities inher once gray life, bore the same testimony with more, if more quiet,fervour. Mr. Merrithew said that he was ten years younger, and Jackieopined that, in that case, they must have been living on an enchantedisland,--but added, that he was very glad _he_ had not been made tenyears younger, like Daddy!
Brown and plump and strong of arm, the campers brought back with themhearty appetites, delightful recollections, and inexhaustible materialfor dream and plan and castles in the air.
Many pleasant things were waiting to be done on their return; first andforemost, Miss Covert had come to live at the Big Brick House, to teachthe children when holiday time should be over, and to be a helpgenerally to Mrs. Merrithew. Also, according to Mrs. Merrithew's plans,to have a little real home life and happiness,--for Katherine had beenan orphan since her childhood, and for five years had taught schoolsteadily, although it was work that she did not greatly like, and thatkept her in a state of perpetual nervous strain. Teaching a fewwell-bred and considerate children, whom she already loved, would bequite different, and almost entirely a pleasure.
Our Little Canadian Cousin Page 7
