"WHERE IS SYLVIA?"
The Butterfly was all ready and waiting for its passengers when Grace
and Sylvia, followed by the smiling and delighted Estralla, who was
carrying Sylvia's cape and trying to act as much like a "rale grown-up
lady's maid" as possible, came down to the long wharf.
Although it was December, there was little to remind anyone of winter.
The air was soft and clear, the sun shone brightly, and only a little
westerly breeze ruffled the blue waters of the harbor.
Negroes were at work on the wharf loading bales of cotton on a big
ship. They were singing as they worked, and Sylvia resolved to remember
the words of the song:
"De big bee flies high,
De little bee makes de honey,
De black man raise de cotton,
An' de white man gets de money."
She repeated it over and then Grace sang it, with an amused laugh at
her friend's interest in "nigger songs."
Mr. Fulton came to meet them and helped them on board the boat. As the
Butterfly made its way out into the channel the little girls looked
back at the long water-front, where lay many vessels from far-off
ports. In the distance they could see the spire of St. Philip's, one of
the historic churches of Charleston, and everywhere fluttered the
palmetto flag.
Sylvia sat in the stern beside her father, and very soon the tiller was
in her hand and she was shaping the boat's course toward the forts.
Grace watched her admiringly.
"I believe you could steer in the dark," she declared.
"Of course she could if she had a compass and was familiar with the
stars," said Mr. Fulton; and he called Grace's attention to the compass
fastened securely near Sylvia's seat, and explained the rules of
navigation.
"Is that the way the big ships know how to find their harbors?" asked
Grace, when Mr. Fulton told her of the stars, and how the pilots set
their course.
"Yes, and if Sylvia understood how to steer by the compass she could
steer the Butterfly as well at night as she can now."
Sylvia looked at the compass with a new interest; she was sure that
navigation would be a much more interesting study than grammar, and
resolved to ask her father to teach her how to "box the compass."
There had been many changes at Fort Moultrie since Sylvia's last visit.
A deep ditch had been dug between the fort and the sand-bars, and many
workmen were busy in strengthening the defences, and Sylvia and Grace
wondered why so many soldiers were stationed along the parapet.
Captain Carleton seemed very glad to welcome them, and sent a soldier
to escort the girls to the officers' quarters, while Mr. Fulton went in
search of Major Anderson. Sylvia wondered if she would have a chance to
tell Mrs. Carleton that she had safely delivered the message.
Mrs. Carleton was in her pleasant sitting-room and declared that she
had been wishing for company, and held up some strips of red and white
bunting. "I am making a new flag for Fort Sumter," she said. "Perhaps
you will help me sew on the stars, one for each State, you know."
"Is there one for South Carolina?" asked Grace, as Mrs. Carleton found
two small thimbles, which she said she had used when she was no older
than Sylvia, and showed the girls how to sew the white stars securely
on the blue.
"Yes, indeed! One of the first stars on the flag was for South
Carolina," replied Mrs. Carleton, "and this very fort was named for a
defender of America's rights."
While Grace and Sylvia were so pleasantly occupied Estralla had
wandered out, crossed the bridge which connected the officers' quarters
with the fort, and now found herself near the landing-place, so that
when Mrs. Carleton made the girls a cup of hot chocolate and looked
about to give Estralla her share, the little colored girl was not to be
seen.
"I'll call her," said Sylvia, and ran out on the veranda.
No response came to her calls, so she went down the steps and along the
walk which led to the sand-bars, past the houses and barracks on
Sullivan's island. No one was in sight whom she could ask if Estralla
had passed that way. She climbed a small sand-hill covered with stunted
little trees and looked about, but could see no trace of the little
darky. It had not occurred to Sylvia that Estralla would go back to the
fort.
"Oh, dear! I wonder where she can be," thought Sylvia, calling
"Estralla! Estralla!" and sure that if she was within hearing Estralla
would instantly appear. As Sylvia climbed over the sandy slope she saw
here and there a small green vine with glossy leaves and a tiny yellow
blossom, and resolved to gather a bunch to carry back to Mrs. Carleton.
"When I give them to her I'll have a chance to say that Mr. Doane has
the letter," she thought.
Wandering on in search of the flowers, she went further and further
from the fort, up one sand slope and clown another, almost forgetting
her search for Estralla, and finally deciding that it was time to go
back to Mrs. Carleton.
"Probably Estralla is there before this, and they will be looking for
me," she thought, and climbed another sandy slope, expecting to see the
houses and barracks directly in front of her. But she found herself
facing the open sea, and look which way she would there was only shore,
sand heaps and blue water.
But Sylvia was not at all alarmed. She was sure that all she had to do
was to follow the line of shore and she would soon be in sight of some
familiar place, so she started singing to herself as she walked on:
"De big bee flies high,
De little bee makes de honey,"
and hoping that Mrs. Carleton would not think that she had been
careless in losing her way.
It was rather difficult walking. Her feet slipped in the sand, and
after a little Sylvia decided not to follow the shore, but to climb
back over the sand-hills.
A cold wind was now blowing from the water, and she was glad of the
shelter of the stunted trees, and decided to rest for a little while.
"Of course I can't be lost, because I know exactly where I am. This is
Sullivan Island, and the fort is right over there. I mustn't rest but a
minute, for my father said we would start home early," she thought, and
again started on, going directly away from the fort, and over
sand-hills and into little sloping valleys farther and farther away
from familiar places.
The December day drew to a close, and dusky shadows crept over the
island. Once or twice Sylvia's wanderings had brought her back to the
shore, but not until the darkness began to gather did she really
understand that she was lost, and that she was too tired to walk much
longer. She thought of the little compass on board the Butterfly, and
wondered if a compass would help anyone find her way on land as well as
on the sea. At last she began to call aloud: "Estralla! Estralla!"
feeling almost sure that, like herself, Estralla must be wandering
about lost in the sand-hills.
It was nearly dark before she gave up trying to find her way to the
fort, and, shivering and half afraid, crawled under the scraggly
branches of some stunted trees on a sheltered slope. "My father will
come and find me, I know he will," she said aloud, almost ready to cry.
"I'll wait here, and keep calling 'Estralla,' so he will hear me."
A few moments after Sylvia started to find Estralla Mrs. Carleton had
been called to a neighbor's house. "Tell Sylvia I won't be gone long,"
she had said to Grace.
Grace did not mind being alone until Sylvia returned. She helped
herself to the rich creamy chocolate and the little frosted cakes, and
then curled up on a broad couch near the window with a book full of
wonderful pictures. The pictures were of a tall man on horseback, and a
short, fat man on a donkey. "The Adventures of Don Quixote," was the
title of the book, and after Grace began to read she entirely forgot
Sylvia, Estralla, and Mrs. Carleton. And not until Mr. Fulton came into
the room an hour later did she lift her eyes from the book.
"All ready to start!" said Mr. Fulton, "and it will be dusk before we
reach home. Where is Sylvia?"
"Oh!" exclaimed Grace, looking up in surprise. "Hasn't she come back
with Estralla? Mrs. Carleton has just gone to the next house."
"Well, put on your things and run after them, that's a good girl," said
Mr. Fulton. "Why, here is Estralla now," he added, as the little
colored girl appeared at the door. "Tell Miss Sylvia to come down to
the landing; I'll meet you there," and he hurried away, thinking his
little daughter was safe with Mrs. Carleton.
"Whar' is Missy Sylvia?" asked Estralla, who had been asleep in a sunny
corner of the veranda for the last hour.
"Where is Sylvia?" echoed Mrs. Carleton, who came in at that moment.
"Has she gone to the boat?"
"Why, I don't know. Perhaps she has. Mr. Fulton said for us to come
right to the landing," said Grace, her thoughts still full of the
faithful Sancho Panza of whom she had been reading.
"I will go to the wharf with you. It was too bad to leave you. I must
see Sylvia before she goes. Perhaps I may not be permitted to have
visitors much longer," said Mrs. Carleton, and she and Grace left the
pleasant room and, followed closely by Estralla, made their way over
the bridge to the landing-place.
"Where is Sylvia?" asked Mr. Fulton, looking at his watch. "We really
ought to have started an hour ago." For a moment the little group
looked at each other in silence. Then with a sudden cry Estralla darted
off.
Mrs. Carleton hurriedly explained Sylvia's starting off to find
Estralla, and her own departure. She blamed herself that she had
permitted Sylvia to go out alone.
"She must be somewhere about the fort," declared Captain Carleton.
"Oh, yes," agreed Mr. Fulton, "but we had best lose no time in finding
her."
While Captain Carleton questioned the soldiers, Mr. Fulton and Mrs.
Carleton and Grace hastened back to the officers' quarters, and a
thorough search for the little girl was begun at once. No one gave a
thought to Estralla, who had traced her little mistress along the
street, and was now running along a sandy slope beyond the barracks
calling: "Missy Sylvia! Missy Sylvia!" But no answer came to her calls.