Read Ebook: The King's Arrow: A Tale of the United Empire Loyalists by Cody H A Hiram Alfred

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Ebook has 1567 lines and 70753 words, and 32 pages

"Isn't it pretty!" she exclaimed. "And it's asleep, too."

The Indian's eyes shone with pleasure as he watched the girl's interest in the little child.

"White woman tak' care babby, eh?"

"You want us to keep it?" Jean asked.

"Ah-ha-ha. Wan moon, two moon, mebbe. Injun come bimeby."

Jean turned to her father, who had been standing silently near the door.

"May we keep it, daddy?"

"Ask Mammy," the Colonel replied. "If she is willing, I have no objections. She is the only one in this house who knows how to look after a baby."

"I'se willin', Cun'l," the old woman agreed. "It makes me t'ink of de lil'l chile I los' long time ago in ol' Connec. Yes, I'se willin'."

The Indian understood, and smiled. He turned to go, but paused and looked at Jean.

"White woman keep canoe, eh?" he queried.

"Oh, may I?" the girl eagerly asked. She had often longed for a canoe to paddle along the shore and explore the various creeks.

"Ah-ha-ha. White woman paddle all sam' Injun bimeby. Me go now."

The Colonel pressed the Indian to stay until the storm was over, but the native shook his head, and with another glance at the sleeping child, he passed out into the night.

For about an hour the storm continued to rage. But the gleaming lightning and the crashing thunder worried Old Mammy no longer. She was completely engrossed in the little charge which had been so unexpectedly committed to her care.

"I mus' take special care ob dis chile," she' said. "Mebbe it's one of de Lo'd's angels, fo' wif Him it doan make no diff'rance what is de colah of de skin. Dey's all His chillun, an' He lubs dem all alike. Doan yo' nebber fo'git dat, Missie Jean. Dis may be one of de Lo'd's angels undewares."

BENEATH THE SPREADING MAPLE

The little community of Loyal had most things in common, as is generally the custom in pioneer settlements. All took to their hearts the little Indian child, and felt somewhat responsible for its welfare. It seemed to them an omen of good will, and they believed that so long as it was with them they would not be disturbed by the Indians. Old Mammy was very strong on this point, and was the one who first suggested the idea.

"If a cat comes to yo' it's a sign of good luck," she declared. "Now, we didn't send fo' dis chile; it jes came to us, so why shouldn't it bring us better luck den a cat?"

The colored woman considered the baby her special property, and only on rare occasions would she allow anyone else to look after it. Jean was delighted to have it in the house, and both she and her father became very fond of the little one. They called it "Babby," not knowing its Indian name, and were greatly pleased at its cunning ways.

Every fine Sunday was a great day for Jean. During the morning the Colonel gathered the people of the settlement about him, and read the service from the Prayer Book. The responses and the singing of a few old familiar hymns were very hearty, and the Doxology and the National Anthem were invariably sung at the close. It was but natural that the eyes of the older ones should become misty during this service, for it brought back memories of other days before the war.

After dinner the Colonel and Jean always went for a walk, either through the woods or along the shore to the large point which ran far out into the river. Here at this latter place they would sit under the great oak trees and talk to their hearts' content.

Their chief resort, however, was the brook which babbled down among the hills, and flowed into the river between the settlement and the point. About a mile back the brook was broken by a mass of huge rocks over which the water poured in torrents during the spring and after every heavy rain. But in the summer the rocks were bare, and only one great wreath of water slipped through a narrow crevice, and fell with a roar and a splash to the level below. Nearby father and daughter liked to sit in the shade of the trees and listen to the music of the falling water.

Jean always remembered the last time they were thus together. It was the final Sunday in August, and a most perfect afternoon. The Colonel had worked hard during the week and was very tired. He was strangely silent and depressed as he sat leaning against a rock, gazing off into space. It was so unlike his usual buoyant, cheery manner that Jean was quite anxious.

"Is anything the matter, daddy?" she at length asked. "Are you feeling sick?"

The Colonel started, and a slight forced laugh escaped his lips.

"No, no, not at all," he replied. "Do I look sick?"

"Then you must be worrying about something, daddy," and the girl's right hand stole sympathetically into his as she spoke.

"Not worrying, dear; only somewhat lost in thought. I have strange fancies this afternoon, suggested by those rocks which break the brook's steady course. There have been three such breaks in my life, and of them I have been thinking."

"I believe I know of two, daddy," Jean replied, as her father paused. "One was dear mother's death, and another the terrible war. But I do not remember the third."

"I told you once, dear, though you have forgotten, which is only natural. It was the loss of a very dear friend, Thomas Norman."

"Oh, yes, I remember now, daddy. He was the man who suddenly disappeared, and has never been heard from since."

"The very same, Jean. Next to your mother he was the best friend I had on earth. We had been boys together, and were inseparable. He was well educated, and held an important position in the King's service. When he lost it, as he believed through intrigue and treachery, his whole life was embittered. He became a changed man, and he brooded over it so much that I really believe it affected his mind. Anyway, he suddenly left with his wife and family, and I have never heard from him since. That was a long time ago when you were a mere child. But I can never forget him, and the happy years we spent together. What a joy it would be to have him here with me now as in the days of old. But that cannot be. As that brook flows on, notwithstanding the break in its course, so must my life. However, I have much to be thankful for. I have you, dear, and you are a great comfort. If anything should happen to you, I do not believe I could endure life any longer."

"Don't you worry about losing me, daddy," the girl assured. "I am going to stick right close to you, no matter what happens. But I think you had better leave this place which gives you such gloomy thoughts. This is too nice a day to feel unhappy."

"You are right, dear, and I suppose we had better go home. But I like to watch those great trees over yonder. How strong and self-reliant they are. How proudly they lift their heads. What storms have swept over them, and yet they stand as erect as ever. They do not complain, but accept everything, whether sunshine or darkness, winter or summer, as a matter of course. They are friendly, too, and their big branches seem to reach out like welcoming hands. There is always something inspiring to me about a great forest."

Often during the following days Jean's mind reverted to what her father had said to her at the falls. Although his old cheerful spirit returned, yet she observed him at times during the evenings, which were now lengthening, wrapped in thought, unheeding what was taking place around him. This worried her a great deal, and a new sense of responsibility began to shape itself in her mind. She believed that he missed his old home in Connecticut more than he would acknowledge, and that he was wearying of the monotonous life in the wilderness. Perhaps he needed a change, and she wondered how this could be brought about.

She was thinking seriously of this at the close of a bright day as she pointed the bark canoe up the creek lying to the northwest of the settlement. She had become quite expert in handling the frail craft, although, at her father's bidding, she always paddled in shallow water. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the mighty forest crowning the undulating hills was radiant with the beams of the streaming sun. Slowly she moved up a narrow winding channel, the trees of the shoreward side spreading out their great branches in a leafy canopy, while on the other, acres of rushes and lily-pads lined the way. It was a fairy-like scene through which she moved, and but for the serious thoughts which were agitating her mind, her soul would have been thrilled at the magnificent vista spreading out before her.

Reaching at length the mouth of the brook, where the shallowness of the water made further progress impossible, she ran the bow of the canoe gently upon the shore under the shade of a big maple tree. Here she rested and viewed with interest the antics of two red squirrels as they frisked about and scolded most furiously at the intrusion of the stranger in their domain. So funny did they appear that Jean was compelled to laugh outright. She always enjoyed watching the tiny creatures of the wild, especially the squirrels. She could get closer to these saucy and daring rascals of the nimble feet than their shyer comrades of the forest.

Presently in the midst of their antics the squirrels suddenly started, ceased their scolding, and scurried rapidly away. That something had frightened them Jean was certain, and she grew nervous. She was about to back the canoe from the shore and leave the place, when the tall form of a man unexpectedly emerged from the forest and stood before her. So great was her own fright that for a few seconds she was completely unnerved, although she uttered no sound. Her face became very white, and her heart beat wildly. Then recognising the intruder as Dane Norwood, she gave a slight hysterical laugh, and her tense body relaxed.

"Oh, my, how you frightened me!" she gasped. "I didn't know you at first."

"Forgive me," the young man apologised, as he stepped to the side of the canoe. "I came upon you sooner than I expected."

"Did you know I was here?" Jean asked.

"Yes. I happened to see you as I crossed the brook farther up."

"Where were you going?"

"To see you, of course. It has taken me three months to get here, and when I do arrive I frighten you almost out of your senses."

Jean smiled as she picked up the paddle. She had to be doing something, for she felt the hot glow stealing into her cheeks beneath Dane's ardent gaze. She was greatly struck by the remarkable change in his appearance. The travel-stained buckskin suit he had worn when first she met him had been replaced by a new one, neat and clean. It fitted him perfectly, making him appear taller and nobler than ever.

"Have you been really travelling three months to get here?" Jean asked. "You do not look like it." She glanced at his clothes, and this Dane noted.

"I have not been travelling all that time to get here," he explained. "I did not mean that. But Davidson has kept me so busy the last three months that I could not get away, although I tried several times."

"And you were not here before?" Jean asked in surprise. "Why, I thought it was you who gave us those presents, and stuck that arrow into the tree."

"Oh, Pete did that. He was keeping an eye over you."

"Who is Pete?"

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