Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 11 (20 page)

 
          
           
"They are looking for me, and will never think of this strange place. I
can't make them hear, and must wait till morning. Poor Chris will get an awful
scolding for letting me go. Don't believe he told a word till he had to. I'll
make it up to him. Chris is a capital fellow, and I just wish I had him here to
make things jolly," thought the lonely lad.

 
          
           
But soon the lights vanished, the sounds died away, and the silence of midnight
brooded over the hills, seldom broken except by the soft cry of an owl, the
rustle of the pine, or a louder gust of wind as it grew strong and cold. Corny
kept awake as long as he could,
fearing
to dream and
fall; but by-and-by he dropped off, and slept soundly till the chill of dawn
waked him.

 
          
           
At any other time he would have heartily enjoyed the splendor of the eastern
sky, as the red glow spread and brightened, till the sun came dazzling through
the gorge, making the wild solitude beautiful and grand.

 
          
           
Now, however, he would have given it all for a hot beefsteak and a cup of
coffee, as he wet his lips with a few drops of ice-cold water, and browsed over
his small pasture till not a green spire remained. He was stiff, and full of
pain, but daylight and the hope of escape cheered him up, and gave him coolness
and courage to see how best he could accomplish his end.

 
          
           
The wind soon blew away the mist and let him see that the dry bed of a stream
lay just below. To reach it he must leap, at risk of his bones, or find some
means to swing down ten or twelve feet. Once there, it was pretty certain that
by following the rough road he would come into the valley, from whence he could
easily find his way home. Much elated at this unexpected good fortune, he took
the strap that had slung his gun, the leathern belt about his waist, and the
strong cords of his pouch, and knotting them together, made a rope long enough
to let him drop within two or three feet of the stones below. This he fastened
firmly round the trunk of the pine, and finished his preparations by tying his
handkerchief to one of the
branches, that it might serve as a
guide for him, a signal for others,
and a trophy of his grand fall.

 
          
           
Then putting a little sprig of the evergreen tree in his jacket, with a
grateful thought of all it had done for him, he swung himself off and landed
safely below, not minding a few extra bumps after his late exploits at
tumbling.

 
          
           
Feeling like a prisoner set free, he hurried as fast as bare feet and stiff
legs would carry him along the bed of the stream, coming at last into the
welcome shelter of the woods, which seemed more beautiful than ever, after the
bleak region of granite in which he had been all night.

 
          
           
Anxious to report himself alive, and relieve his mother's anxiety, he pressed
on till he struck the path, and soon saw, not far away, the old cabin Abner had
spoken of. Just before this happy moment he had heard a shot fired somewhere in
the forest, and as he hurried toward the sound he saw an animal dart into the
hut, as if for shelter.

 
          
           
Whether it was a rabbit, woodchuck or dog, he had not seen, as a turn in the
path prevented a clear view; and hoping it was old Buff looking for him, he ran
in, to find himself face to face with a catamount at last.

 
          
           
There she was, the big, fierce cat, crouched in a corner, with fiery eyes,
growling and spitting at sight of an enemy, but too badly wounded to fight, as
the blood that dripped from her neck, and the tremble of her limbs plainly
showed.

 
          
           
"Now's my chance!
Don't care who shot her, I'll
kill her, and have her too, if I pay my last dollar," thought Corny; and
catching up a stout bit of timber fallen from the old roof, he struck one quick
blow, which finished poor puss, who gave up the ghost with a savage snarl, and
a vain effort to pounce on him.

 
          
           
This splendid piece of good luck atoned for all the boy had gone through, and
only waiting to be sure the beast was quite dead and past clawing, he flung his
prize over his shoulder, and with renewed strength and spirit trudged along the
woodland road toward home, proudly imagining his triumphal entry upon the scene
of suspense and alarm.

 
          
           
"Wish I didn't look so like a scare-crow; but perhaps my rags will add to
the effect. Won't the girls laugh at my swelled face, and scream at the cat.
Poor mammy will mourn over me and coddle me up as if I'd been to the wars. Hope
some house isn't very far off, for I don't believe I can lug this brute much
farther, I'm so starved and shaky."

 
          
           
Just as he paused to take breath and shift his burden from one shoulder to the
other, a loud shout startled him, and a moment after, several men came bursting
through the wood, cheering like lunatics as they approached.

 
          
           
It was Abner, Chris, and some of the neighbors, setting out again on their
search, after a night of vain wandering. Corny could have hugged them all and
cried like a girl; but pride kept him steady, though his face showed his joy as
he nodded his hatless head with a cool—

 
          
           
"Hullo!"

 
          
           
Chris burst into his ringing laugh, and danced a wild sort of jig round his
mate, as the only way in which he could fitly express his relief; for he had
been so bowed down with remorse at his imprudence in letting Corny go that no
one could find the heart to blame him, and all night the poor lad had rushed up
and down seeking, calling, hoping, and fearing, till he was about used up, and
looked nearly as dilapidated as Corny.

 
          
           
The tale was soon told, and received with the most flattering signs of
interest, wonder, sympathy, and admiration.

 
          
           
"Why in thunder didn't you tell me?—and I'd a got up a hunt wuth havin',—not
go stramashing off alone on a wild goose chase like this. Never did see such a
chap as you be for gittin' inter scrapes,—and out of 'em too, I'm bound to
own," growled Abner.

 
          
           
"That isn't a wild goose, is it?" proudly demanded Corny, pointing to
the cat, which now lay on the ground, while he leaned against a tree to hide
his weariness; for he felt ready to drop, now all the excitement was over.

 
          
           
"No it ain't, and I congratulate you on a good job. Where did you shoot
her?" asked Abner, stooping to examine the creature.

 
          
           
"Didn't shoot her; broke my gun when I took that header down the mountain.
I hit
her a
rap with a club, in the cabin where I
found her," answered Corny, heartily wishing he need not share the prize
with any one. But he was honest, and added at once, "Some one else had put
a bullet into her; I only finished her off."

 
          
           
"Chris did it; he fired a spell back and
see
the
critter run, but we was too keen after you to stop for any other game. Guess
you've had enough of catamounts for one spell, hey?" and Abner laughed as
he looked at poor Corny, who was a more sorry spectacle than he knew,—ragged
and rough, hatless and shoeless, his face red and swelled with the poisoning
and bites, his eyes heavy with weariness, and in his mouth a bit of wild-cherry
bark which he chewed ravenously.

 
          
           
"No, I haven't! I want this one, and will buy it if Chris will let me. I
said I'd kill one, and I did, and want to keep the skin; for I ought to have
something to show after all this knocking about and turning somersaults half a
mile long," answered Corny stoutly, as he tried to shoulder his load
again.

 
          
           
"Here, give me the varmint, and you hang on to Chris, my boy, or we'll
have to cart you home. You've done first-rate, and now you want a good meal of
vittles
to set you up. Right about face, neighbors, and home
we go, to the tune of Hail Columby."

 
          
           
As Abner spoke, the procession set forth. The tall, jolly man, with the dead
animal at his back, went first; then Corny, trying not to lean on the arm Chris
put round him, but very glad of the support; next the good farmers, all talking
at once; while old Buff soberly brought up the rear, with his eye on the
wildcat, well knowing that he would have a fine feast when the handsome skin
was off.

 
          
           
In this order they reached home, and Corny tumbled into his mother's arms, to
be no more seen for some hours. What went on in her room, no one knows; but
when at last the hero emerged, refreshed by sleep and food, clad in clean
clothes, his wounds bound up, and plantain-leaves dipped in cream spread upon
his afflicted countenance, he received the praises and congratulations showered
upon him very meekly. He made no more boasts of skill and courage that summer,
set out on no more wild hunts, and gave up his own wishes so cheerfully that it
was evident something had worked a helpful change in wilful Corny.

 
          
           
He liked to tell the story of that day and night when his friends were
recounting adventures by sea and land; but he never said much about the hours on
the ledge, always owned that Chris shot the beast, and usually ended by sagely
advising his hearers to let their mothers know, when they went off on a lark of
that kind. Those who knew and loved him best observed that he was fonder than
ever of nibbling checkerberry leaves, that he didn't mind being laughed at for
liking to wear a bit of pine in his buttonhole, and that the skin of the
catamount so hardly won lay before his study table till the moths ate it up.
 
 

 
          
           
A PARTY of people, young and old, sat on the piazza of a seaside hotel one
summer morning, discussing plans for the day as they waited for the mail.

 
          
           
"Hullo!
here
comes Christie Johnstone,"
exclaimed one of the young men perched on the railing, who was poisoning the
fresh air with the sickly scent of a cigarette.

 
          
           
"So 'tis, with 'Flucker, the baddish boy,' in tow, as large as life,"
added another, with a pleasant laugh as he turned to look.

 
          
           
The new-comers certainly looked somewhat like Charles Reade's picturesque pair,
and every one watched them with idle interest as they drew nearer. A tall,
robust girl of seventeen, with dark eyes and hair, a fine color on her brown
cheek, and vigor in every movement, came up the rocky path from the beach with
a basket of lobsters on one arm, of fish on the other, and a wicker tray of
water-lilies on her head. The scarlet and silver of the fish contrasted
prettily with the dark blue of her rough dress, and the pile of water flowers
made a fitting crown for this bonny young fish-wife. A sturdy lad of twelve
came lurching after her in a pair of very large rubber boots, with a dilapidated
straw hat on the back of his head and a pail on either arm.

 
          
           
Straight on went the girl, never turning head or eyes as she passed the group
on the piazza and vanished round the corner, though it was evident that she
heard the laugh the last speech produced, for the color deepened in her cheeks
and her step quickened. The boy, however, returned the glances bent upon him,
and answered the smiles with such a cheerful grin that the youth with the
cigarette called out,—

 
          
           
"Good-morning, Skipper!
Where do you hail
from?"

 
          
           
"
Island
, yender," answered the boy, with a
gesture of his thumb over his shoulder.

 
          
           
"Oh, you are the lighthouse-keeper, are you?"

 
          
           
"No, I ain't; me and Gramper's fishermen now."

 
          
           
"Your name is Flucker Johnstone, and your sister's Christie, I
think?" added the youth, enjoying the amusement of the young ladies about
him.

 
          
           
"It's Sammy Bowen, and hern's Ruth."

 
          
           
"Have you got a Boaz over there for her?"

 
          
           
"No, we've got a devil-fish, a real whacker."

 
          
           
This unexpected reply produced a roar from the gentlemen, while the boy grinned
good-naturedly, though without the least idea what the joke was. Pretty Miss
Ellery, who had been told that she had "a rippling laugh," rippled
sweetly as she leaned over the railing to ask,

 
          
           
"Are those lilies in your pails? I want some if they are for sale."

 
          
           
"Sister'll fetch 'em round when she's left the lobs. I ain't got
none
; this is bait for them fellers." And, as if
reminded of business by the yells of several boys who had just caught sight of
him, Sammy abruptly weighed anchor and ran before the wind toward the stable.

 
          
           
"Funny lot, these natives!
Act as if they owned
the place and are as stupid as their own fish," said the youth in the
white yachting suit, as he flung away his cigarette end.

 
          
           
"Don't agree with you, Fred. I've known people of this sort all my life
and a finer set of honest, hardworking, independent men I never met,—brave as
lions and tender as women in spite of their rough ways," answered the
other young man, who wore blue flannel and had a gold band on his cap.

 
          
           
"Sailors and soldiers always stand by one another; so of course you see
the best side of these fellows, Captain. The girls are fine creatures, I grant
you; but their good looks don't last long, more's the pity!"

 
          
           
"Few women's would with the life they lead, so full of hard work,
suspense, and sorrow. No one knows till one is tried, how much courage and
faith it takes to keep young and happy when the men one loves are on the great
sea," said quiet, gray-haired lady, as she laid her hand on the knee of
the young man in blue with a look that made him smile affectionately at her,
with his own brown hand on hers.

 
          
           
"Shouldn't wonder if Ben Bowen was laid up, since the
girl brings the fish.
He's a fine old fellow. I've been to No Man's Land
many a time blue-fishing with him; must ask after him," said an elderly
gentleman who was pacing to and fro yearning for the morning papers.

 
          
           
"We might go over to the island and have a chowder-party or a fish-fry
some moonlight night. I haven't been here for several years, but it used to be
great fun, and I suppose we can do it now," suggested Miss Ellery with the
laugh.

 
          
           
"By Jove, we will! And look up Christie; ask her when she comes
round," said Mr. Fred, the youthful dude, untwining his languid legs as if
the prospect put a little life into him.

 
          
           
"Of course we pay for any trouble we give; these people will do anything
for money," began Miss Ellery; but Captain John, as they called the
sailor, held up his hand with a warning, "Hush!
she's
coming," as Ruth's weather-beaten brown hat turned the corner.

 
          
           
She paused a moment to drop the empty baskets, shake her skirts, and put up a
black braid that had fallen down; then, with the air of one resolved to do a
distasteful task as quickly as possible, she came up the steps, held out the
rough basket cover, and said in a clear voice,—

 
          
           
"Would any of the ladies like some fresh lilies?
Ten
cents a bunch."

 
          
           
A murmur from the ladies expressed their admiration of the beautiful flowers,
and the gentlemen pressed forward to buy and present every bunch with gallant
haste. Ruth's eyes shone as the money fell into her hand, and several voices
begged her to bring more lilies while they lasted.

 
          
           
"I didn't know the darlings would grow in salt water," said Miss
Ellery, as she fondly gazed upon the cluster Mr. Fred had just offered her.

 
          
           
"They don't. There's a little fresh-water pond on our island, and they
grow there,—only place for miles round;" and Ruth looked at the delicate
girl in ruffled white lawn and a mull hat, with a glance of mingled pity for
her ignorance and admiration for her beauty.

 
          
           
"How silly of me!
I am SUCH a goose;" and
Miss Ellery gurgled as she hid her face behind her red parasol.

 
          
           
"Ask about the fish-fry," whispered Mr. Fred, putting his head behind
the rosy screen to assure the pretty creature that he didn't know any better
himself.

 
          
           
"Oh yes, I will!" and, quite consoled, Miss Ellery called out,
"Girl, will you tell me if we can have chower-parties on your rocks as we
used to a few seasons ago?"

 
          
           
"If you bring your own fish.
Grandpa is sick and
can't get 'em for you."

 
          
           
"We will provide them, but who will cook them for us? It's such horrid
work."

 
          
           
"Any one can fry fish! I will if you want me to;" and Ruth half
smiled, remembering that this girl who shuddered at the idea of pork and a hot
frying-pan, used to eat as heartily as any one when the crisp brown cunners
were served up.

 
          
           
"Very good; then we'll engage you as cook, and come over to-night if it's
clear and our fishing prospers. Don't forget a dozen of the finest lilies for
this lady to-morrow morning. Pay you now, may not be up;" and Mr. Fred
dropped a bright silver dollar into the basket with a patronizing air, intended
to impress this rather too independent young person with a proper sense of
inferiority.

 
          
           
Ruth quietly shook the money out upon the door-mat, and said with a sudden
sparkle in her black eyes,—

 
          
           
"It's doubtful if I bring any more. Better wait till I do."

 
          
           
"I'm sorry your grandfather is sick. I'll come over and see him by-and-by,
and bring the papers if he would like some," said the elderly gentleman as
he came up with a friendly nod and real interest in his face.

 
          
           
"Very much, thank you, sir. He is very feeble now;" and Ruth turned
with a bright smile to welcome kind Mr. Wallace, who had not forgotten the old
man.

 
          
           
"Christie has got a nice little temper of her own, and don't know how to
treat a fellow when he wants to do her a favor," growled Mr. Fred,
pocketing his dollar with a disgusted air.

 
          
           
"She appears to know how to treat a gentleman when HE offers one,"
answered Blue Jacket, with a twinkle of the eye as if he enjoyed the other's
discomfiture.

 
          
           
"Girls of that class always put on airs if they are the least bit pretty,—so
absurd!" said Miss Ellery, pulling up her long gloves as she glanced at
the brown arms of the fisher maiden.

 
          
           
"Girls of any class like to be treated with respect. Modesty in
linsey-woolsey is as sweet as in muslin, my dear, and should be even more
admired, according to my old-fashioned way of thinking," said the
gray-haired lady.

 
          
           
"Hear!
hear
!" murmured her sailor nephew
with an approving nod.

 
          
           
It was evident that Ruth had heard also, as she turned to go, for with a quick
gesture she pulled three great lilies from her hat and laid them on the old
lady's lap, saying with a grateful look, "Thank you,
ma'am
."

 
          
           
She had seen Miss Scott hand her bunch to a meek little governess who had been
forgotten, and this was all she had to offer in return for the kindness which
is so sweet to poor girls whose sensitive pride gets often wounded by trifles
like these.

 
          
           
She was going without her baskets when Captain John swung himself over the
railing, and ran after her with them. He touched his cap as he met her, and was
thanked with as bright a smile as that the elder gentleman had received; for
his respectful "Miss Bowen" pleased her much after the rude
"Girl!" and the money tossed to her as if she were a beggar. When he
came back the mail had arrived, and all scattered at once,—Mr. Fred to spend
the dollar in more cigarettes, and Captain John to settle carefully in his
button-hole the water-lily Aunt Mary gave him, before both young men went off
to play tennis as if their bread depended on it.

 
          
           
As it bid fair to be a moonlight night, the party of a dozen young people, with
Miss Scott and Mr. Wallace to act as matron and admiral of the fleet, set off
to the
Island
about sunset. Fish in abundance had been
caught, and a picnic supper provided to be eaten on the rocks when the proper
time arrived. They found Sammy, in a clean blue shirt and a hat less like a
Feejee headpiece, willing to do the honors of the
Island
,
beaming like a freckled young merman as he paddled out to pull up the boats.

 
          
           
"Fire's
all
ready for kindlin', and Ruth's
slicin' the pertaters. Hope them fish is cleaned?" he added with a face of
deep anxiety; for that weary task would fall to him if not already done, and
the thought desolated his boyish soul.

 
          
           
"All ready, Sam! Lend a hand with these baskets, and then steer for the
lighthouse; the ladies want to see that first," answered Captain John, as
he tossed a stray cookie into Sammy's mouth with a smile that caused that youth
to cleave to him like a burr all the evening.