“All right,” agreed the little girl, sitting up; “but—but—how did I get here?”
“You were rather restless; so I brought you out here with me—” began Desiré.
“And you slept in the chair! Oh, you must be so tired, Dissy. Why did you do it?”
“I’m all right, dear. Never mind about it. Don’t say anything of it to any one!”
“Why?” asked Priscilla, wondering at her sister’s earnestness.
“Because Jack might be afraid I was too tired to start out today, and—”
“Oh, are we really going this morning?” demanded Priscilla, her mind immediately occupied with the exciting prospect.
“Yes; and it’s going to be a glorious day.”
The sound of their voices roused the others; and while breakfast was being prepared, and the house set in order—for Desiré would not leave their hostess any extra work—Jack got the team and wagon ready for departure. At nine o’clock, after reluctant and affectionate farewells had been exchanged, Jack gathered up the reins. Beside him sat Desiré, and directly back of them on little stools were Priscilla and René.
“Now, remember,” repeated Mrs. Chaisson, handing a lunch basket to Desiré, “that this is your home whenever you are in Yarmouth, or any other time you need one. And whenever you can, let me hear how you’re getting on. We’ll be thinking of you all the time.”
“Thank you,” said Desiré, kissing Mrs. Chaisson affectionately, and adding for the tenth time—“You’ve been so very good to us.”
“We shall never forget it,” said Jack, tightening the reins; and Dolly and Dapple, moving away from the gate, put an end to the farewells.
No one saw, hidden away among the maple saplings, scrub pine, and underbrush which covered the field beside the house, the bulky figure of a man. Neither did they hear softly muttered words of anger and revenge.
After they had left Yarmouth behind and were jogging along the road back over the same route they had covered on the train the day before, Desiré turned sidewise in the seat to inspect once more the interior of their “store.” At the back was their trunk, and next to it their box; and on either side, reaching to the very top of the wagon, shelves tightly packed with jars, cans, rolls of material. The small tent which they had bought on their way out of town was laid along the floor at one side.
“I must get acquainted with all the stock,” she observed; “so I’ll be able quickly to find what people want.”
“The first time we stop, you can look things over,” replied Jack. “You’d lose your balance and be rolling out if you tried to do it while we’re moving.”
The younger ones laughed hilariously. They were in high spirits now, and even Jack felt a thrill of excitement under his sober, staid manner.
Up and down the long hills they drove, past numberless lakes and ponds, in and out of woods sweet with the odor of sun-warmed pine, and across rivers whose red mud flats made a vivid splash of color on the landscape.
“So many, many little bodies of water,” murmured Desiré.
“The ground is so uneven,” explained Jack, “that the water settles and forms lakes.”
“Why are the river banks so wide, and so very muddy?” asked Priscilla, leaning on the back of the seat.
“Out there,” answered Jack, waving his arm toward the West, “is the Bay of Fundy, a big, windy, rough body of water, an arm of the Atlantic Ocean. This bay has huge tides, rising in some places to a height of fifty or seventy feet. When the tide is high, the water rushes into all the rivers on this side of the country and fills them to overflowing; then all these banks are covered up. The tide comes twice a day; so you see the flats have no time to dry out.”
Through Brazil, Lake Annes, and Hectanooga they had passed without stopping, and then the children began to get hungry. Jack drew up to the side of the road in the open country, and stopped in the shade of a huge oak tree. There they ate the lunch which Mrs. Chaisson had put up for them, and rested a while, breathing in deep breaths of clover-scented air.
“See the chipmunk, René,” said Jack, pointing to a little animal who was regarding them doubtfully from the trunk of a nearby tree. “See the stripes along his back? Well, once upon a time, many years ago, a wonderful being called Glooscap lived up on Cape Blomidon. He was half god and half man, and tried to make Nova Scotia a very happy, safe place to live in. But there were wicked witches who lived here also, and they wanted to do all kinds of harm. The strongest of them was called Gamona, and any animal who was caught by her was killed or shut up in some cave or hole. One day little Charlie Chipmunk disobeyed his mother and went too far away from home. Suddenly, while he was nibbling at a most delicious nut, he felt himself picked up in terrible sharp claws. What was it his mother had told him to do if he ever got into danger? Alas! He couldn’t remember, and the creature, at whose face he dared not look, was carrying him away so, so fast! Some name he should call. Whose name? Like the lightning which sometimes made their hollow-tree home bright as day, it flashed into his mind.
“‘Glooscap!’ he squeaked.
“Such a tiny, trembling cry reached nowhere at all in that great big forest, yet Glooscap heard it and came to help the little fellow.
“‘Let my child go!’ he ordered, in a voice which, though not very loud, seemed to fill the whole land with its power.
“Gamona ground her teeth with anger. She knew she must obey, yet how she hated to let such a nice plump chipmunk go. Slowly she opened her hand just a little bit, then a little bit more; but the space was not quite wide enough for fat little Charlie. Her long sharp claws scraped his back as he wiggled out, and made long dark scratches. Ever since that day the chipmunk has worn those stripes down the middle of his back.”
“I c’n see ’em jes’ as plain,” observed René.
“Come on,” proposed Priscilla, “see if he’ll eat these crusts.”
“Shouldn’t we have stopped at some of the places we passed?” ventured Desiré, hesitatingly. She did not want to seem critical of Jack.
“Simon had no names on his list before Saulnierville; and I thought he probably knew the ropes better than we.”
“Shan’t we take on any new customers, then?” Desiré asked anxiously. She was so eager to make a huge success of this strange business.
“Surely, if we can; but the places we passed are so close to Yarmouth that I felt the city would get all their trade,” replied Jack, taking the huge red clover top that René had presented him, and sticking it in Desiré’s black curls. “I hope to get to Church Point in the morning.”
“Then we’d better get started now,” decided Desiré, getting up and shaking off the grass and leaves which the children had thrown upon her in their play.
None of them were accustomed to constant riding, and the afternoon seemed very long. The novelty of the situation and the scenery had worn off, and they were acutely conscious of cramped muscles.
“Can’t I get out and walk for a while?” asked Priscilla, as they approached Meteghan.
“I’d thought we’d stop up here on the main street for a while to see if anyone wants to buy anything,” said Jack, in reply to Desiré’s questioning look; “so if you will follow us carefully, you may get out here. But be sure to keep us in close sight, and don’t go wandering off.”
He stopped the horses, and Priscilla scrambled out amid clamors of René to go with her.
“No, Renny,” said Desiré, “you come and ride in front between Jack and me. Won’t that be fun?” pulling him across the back of the seat. But he continued to fret and cry until Jack said sternly:
“René,