FAITH MAKES A PROMISE
For a second Faith was too frightened to move. Then pulling one of the
newly kindled sticks from the fire she hurled it at the big creature
and ran for the stairs, up which Esther was already hurrying.
The flaming brand halted the bear for a second only, but the little
girls had reached the upper floor before he was well into the kitchen,
and, sniffing the molasses, he turned toward the empty jug and the
full kettle.
"What shall we do? What shall we do?" sobbed Esther. "He will come up
here and eat us. I know he will."
"We must get out of the window and run to the mill," whispered Faith.
"We mustn't wait a minute, for mother dear may be on her way to the
house. Come," and she pushed Esther before her toward the window.
"Here, just take hold and swing yourself down," she said.
"I can't, oh, I can't," sobbed Esther.
"You must. I'll go first, then;" and in a moment Faith was swinging
from the windowsill, had dropped to the ground, and was speeding down
the path to the mill, while Esther, frightened and helpless, leaned
out screaming at the top of her voice.
Mrs. Carew was just leaving the mill when she saw Faith racing toward
her. "A bear! A bear in our kitchen," she called.
"Hugh!" called Mrs. Carew, and Mr. Carew came running from the mill to
hear the story.
"It's lucky I keep a musket at the mill," he said. "Here, you take
Faith into the mill and fasten the door on the inside. I'll attend to
the bear," and he was off, racing toward the house, while Mrs. Carew
hurried Faith into the mill and shut the heavy door.
"I do hope Esther will stay in the chamber until your father gets
there," said Mrs. Carew anxiously. "I do not believe the bear will
venture up the stairs."
"He was after the syrup," said Faith, "and if he tried the stairs
Esther could drop out of the window."
It was not long before they heard the loud report of the musket.
"Mayn't we open the door now, mother dear?" asked Faith.
"Not yet, Faithie. We'll wait a little," and Faith realized that her
mother's arm trembled as she drew the girl to her side.
There was silence for what seemed a very long time to Mrs. Carew and
Faith, and then they heard Mr. Carew calling; "All right, open the
door. Here is Esther safe and sound."
Esther, sobbing and trembling, clung to Mrs. Carew, and Faith held
tight to her father's hand while he told the story. The bear, with his
nose in the kettle of syrup, had not even heard Mr. Carew's approach,
and had been an easy mark.
"You'll find your kitchen in a sad state, Lucy," said Mr. Carew, as he
finished. "I have dragged the bear outside, and he will furnish us
some fine steaks, and a good skin for a rug; but your kettle of syrup
is all over the floor."
"Kettle of syrup?" questioned Mrs. Carew. "Why, there was no kettle of
syrup." Neither of the little girls offered any explanation. Mr. Carew
looked about the clearing to see if any other bear was in the
neighborhood, but it was evident that the creature had come alone.
"'Tis not often they are so bold," said Mr. Carew, as they neared the
cabin, "although last year an old bear and two cubs came down by the
mill, but they were off before I could get a shot at them."
Mrs. Carew looked about her kitchen with a little feeling of dismay.
The kettle had been overturned, and what syrup the bear had not eaten
was smeared over the hearth and floor. The little rocking-chair was
tipped over and broken, and everything was in disorder.
Esther looked into the kitchen, but Mrs. Carew cautioned her not
to enter. "You and Faith go to the front door and go into the
sitting-room," she said. "There is nothing that either of you can do
to help;" so Faith led the way and pushed open the heavy door which
led directly into a big comfortable room. The lower floor of the cabin
was divided into two rooms, the sitting-room and kitchen, and over
these were two comfortable chambers. The stairs led up from the
kitchen.
Faith thought the sitting-room a very fine place. There was a big
fireplace on one side of the room, and the walls were ceiled, or
paneled, with pine boards. On one side of the fireplace was a broad
wooden settle, covered with a number of fur robes, and several big
cushions. Between the two front windows stood a table of dark wood,
and on the table were two tall brass candlesticks. A small narrow
gilt-framed mirror hung over the table.
There were several strongly-made comfortable wooden chairs with
cushions. The floor was of pine, like the ceiled walls, and was now a
golden brown in color. There were several bearskin rugs on the floor,
for Mr. Carew, like all the men of the "Wilderness," was a hunter; and
when not busy in his mill or garden was off in the woods after deer,
or wild partridge, or larger game, as these fine skins proved.
"What a funny room," exclaimed Esther, with a little giggle. "Our
sitting-room has beautiful paper on the walls, and we have pictures,
and a fine carpet on the floor. What are you going to tell your mother
about that maple syrup?" she concluded sharply.
"I don't know," responded Faith.
"Well, don't tell her anything," suggested Esther.
"I guess that I shall have to tell her," said Faith.
"You mean about me? That I teased you to make candy? Well, if you do
that I'll get my father to take me home with him instead of staying
until he comes next month," declared Esther.
"I shan't tell anything about you," answered Faith.
Esther looked at her a little doubtfully.
"Of course I shan't," repeated Faith. "You are my company. No matter
what you did I wouldn't talk about it. Why, even the Indians treat
visitors politely, and give them the best they have, and that's what I
shall do," and Faith stood very straight and looked at Esther very
seriously.
"Truly? Truly? What is the 'best' you have? And when will you give it
to me?" demanded Esther, coming close to her and clasping her arm. "Is
it beads? Oh! I do hope it is beads! And you can't back out after what
you have said," and Esther jumped up and down in delight at the
thought of a possible string of fine beads.
For a moment it seemed as if Faith would burst into tears. She had
meant to tell Esther that she would do her best to be kind and polite
to her because Esther was a guest, and now Esther was demanding that
Faith should do exactly as she had promised and give her "the best she
had." And it happened that Faith's dearest possession was a string of
fine beads. Aunt Priscilla Scott, who lived in Ticonderoga, had
brought them as a gift on her last visit. They were beautiful blue
beads,--like the sky on a June day,--and Faith wore them only on
Sundays. They were in a pretty little wooden box in the sitting-room
closet.
Suddenly Esther let go of Faith's arm. "I knew you didn't mean it,"
she said scornfully.
Faith made no reply. She walked across the room and pushed a brass
knob set in one of the panels. The panel opened, and there was a
closet. The little wooden box that held the beads was on the middle
shelf. Faith took it up, closed the door, and turned toward Esther.
"Here! This is the best thing I have in all the world, the prettiest
and the dearest. And it is beads. Take them," and she thrust the box
into Esther's eager hands and ran out of the room. She forgot the dead
bear, the wasted syrup, the danger and fright of so short a time ago;
all she could think of was to get away from Esther Eldridge.
She ran across the clearing and along a narrow path that circled
behind the mill into the woods. She ran on and on until she could no
longer hear the sound of the brook, and the path began to grow rocky
and difficult. Then, tired and almost breathless, Faith sat down on a
big rock and looked about her. For a few moments she could think of
nothing but her lost beads, and of the disagreeable visitor. Then
gradually she realized that she had never before been so far along
this rough path. All about her rose huge, towering pines. Looking
ahead the path seemed to end in a dense thicket. She heard the rustle
of some little forest animal as it moved through the vines behind
her, and the call of birds near at hand. Faith began to recall the
happenings of the morning: the excitement of Esther's arrival, the
sudden appearance of the bear in the kitchen doorway, her terror lest
her mother should come before she could be warned; and then, again,
Esther and the loss of her beads. She began to cry. She felt very
tired and unhappy. She felt Esther was to blame for everything, even
for the appearance of the bear. Never before had a bear dared come to
the house. Faith leaned back against a friendly tree with a tired
little sigh. She would rest, and then go home, she thought, and closed
her eyes.
When she awoke, she thought she must still be dreaming; for, standing
a little way down the path, was a tall man leaning on a musket. He
wore a flannel blouse, and his homespun trousers were tucked into high
leathern gaiters.
The man smiled and nodded. "Do not be frightened, little maid," he
said in a friendly voice. "I did not want to leave you here in the
woods until I was sure that you could make your way home. Are you
Miller Carew's little girl?"
"Yes, sir," answered Faith, wondering who this tall, dark-eyed man,
who knew her father, could be, and then adding, "My name is Faith."
The tall man smiled again, and took off his leather cap.
"My name is Ethan Allen," he responded; "it may be that you have heard
your father speak of me."
"Yes, sir! You are a Green Mountain Boy; and you help the settlers to
keep their 'Grants,'" Faith replied quickly; for she had often heard
her father and mother speak of the trouble the settlers were having to
prove their titles to land taken under the "New Hampshire Grants," and
she remembered hearing her father say that Ethan Allen would help any
man defend his rights. She wished that she could tell him all about
Esther Eldridge and the blue beads, but she remembered her promise. "I
guess there are times when people don't have any rights," she decided,
and was quite unconscious that she had spoken aloud until she heard
her companion say very clearly:
"There can never be such a time as that. People would be slaves indeed
not to uphold their just and rightful claims. But why is a small maid
like yourself troubling about 'rights'?"
"I have company at my house----" began Faith.
"I see, I see!" interrupted Colonel Allen. "Of course you have to let
the guest do whatever she pleases," and he smiled and nodded, as if he
understood all about it. "And now we had best start toward your
father's mill, for it is well toward sunset."
"Sunset? Have I slept all the afternoon!" exclaimed Faith, jumping up.
As they walked down the path Ethan Allen asked Faith many questions
about the people who came along the trail from the settlements on
their way to Lake Champlain.
When they reached the clearing where the mill stood Faith's father and
mother came running to meet them. They welcomed Mr. Allen, and said
that they had been sadly worried about Faith. "But where is Esther?"
asked Mrs. Carew. "Is she not with you, Faith?"
"I left her in the sitting-room, hours ago!" answered the little girl.