THE BIG CHIEF
After further discussion, and some coaxing on the part of the twins,
Miss Rachel decided that the party, though of course for Dick and Dolly,
might be nominally for Lady Eliza. And so they made up an invitation
like this, and Miss Abbie wrote them in her neat hand:
Miss Dolly Dana
Master Dick Dana
and
Lady Eliza Dusenbury
request the pleasure of
Miss Phyllis Middleton’s
company
on Thursday afternoon
from four to seven o’clock
at Dana Dene.
You are invited to bring a friend whose
company will be congenial to
the Lady Eliza.
“Aren’t they the greatest ever!” exclaimed Dick, dancing about the table
where Aunt Abbie was writing the notes.
“I doubt if those who are invited will know what that last clause
means,” said Aunt Abbie.
“Oh, yes, they will, for we’ll tell them,” said Dolly. “Of course we’ll
see them all between now and the party. There’s a whole week, you know.
I’ll tell every one to bring a doll or something for Eliza’s part of the
party. And she must have a new dress, auntie.”
“Yes; something gay and festive, of course. What would you like?”
“Pink tarlatan,” said Dolly, promptly. “With lots of ruffles, and a lace
bertha, and a pink sash, and let her wear my pink coral beads. Oh,
Auntie! won’t she look just sweet!”
“And flowers in her hair,” chimed in Dick; “and a big, big bouquet, in
her hand. Whew! She’ll be a stunner!”
As tarlatan was an inexpensive material, and easy to make up, Aunt Abbie
humoured Dolly’s whim, and Lady Eliza had a beautiful new frock for the
occasion.
Dolly herself picked out just the right shade of watermelon pink, and
she helped a little, too, gathering flounces, and running up breadths,
but Aunt Abbie made most of the pretty gown, and it didn’t take very
long either.
It was to be worn over one of Aunt Abbie’s own lace-trimmed petticoats,
and two whole days before the party, Eliza was dressed and set away in
the guest room to await the hour.
“I believe I’ll send an invitation to Aunt Nine,” said Dolly, as they
were making out the list of those who were to be invited. “I don’t
s’pose she could come, but I think it would be nice to ask her, don’t
you, Aunt Rachel?”
“Why, yes, dear; send one, if you like. Though, as you say, of course
she won’t come, yet I think she’ll appreciate your thought of her.”
So one invitation was sent to Miss Penninah Dana, and twelve more were
sent to boys and girls in Heatherton.
Every one of the dozen accepted, and after conversation on the subject
with Dick and Dolly, they quite understood about the extra guests they
were to bring.
But they were very secret about them.
“I won’t tell you,” said Jack Fuller, giggling, “but I’m going to bring
the funniest person you ever saw! Oh, I know Lady Eliza will be
pleased!”
And Pinkie declared that her guest would be the “belle of the ball.”
All these secrets greatly whetted the twins’ curiosity, and they could
think of nothing but the coming party. A few days before the event they
received a letter from Aunt Penninah, expressing her regret that she
could not be with them. In it was also a letter addressed to Lady Eliza
Dusenbury. Chuckling with glee, the twins tore it open and read:
“LADY ELIZA DUSENBURY:
“Most charming and beautiful lady, I salute you. To your party I
come, and there with you at Dana Dene will I ever after remain.
As your friend and protector I will stand ever by your side.
Unless, however, you should attack me with a carving knife (as
is sometimes your playful habit), in which case, I will run away
and never return. Expect me on Thursday, by express. Your true
friend,
“SASKATCHEWAN.”
“Oh,” cried Dick, “it’s an Indian doll! Saskatchewan is an Indian name,
you know. Won’t it be fun?”
“Yes,” cried his twin. “And do you suppose Aunt Nine dressed it herself,
in wigwam and feathers?”
“Ho, ho! Dolly. You mean wampum, not wigwam!”
“Well, it’s all the same; I don’t care. Oh, I wish Saskatchewan would
come. I’m crazy to see him!”
“So’m I. Do you s’pose the box’ll come addressed to Lady Eliza
Dusenbury, Dana Dene?”
“No, I guess it’ll be addressed to Aunt Rachel, or maybe to us. What
does Dene mean, auntie?”
“Dene?”
“Yes, Dana Dene, you know?”
“Why, Dana Dene is the name of our place, you know. Not only the house,
but the whole estate.”
“Yes’m; I know it. But what does Dene mean? Just as a word?”
“Oh, well, it doesn’t mean anything nowadays, just as a word. But in old
times, long ago, it meant den or cave.”
“Well, this house isn’t a cave.”
“No,” said Miss Rachel, laughing. “We’re not cave-dwellers. But long
ago, there was another house where this stands now. You know, this
estate has been in our family for many generations.”
“And was the other house a cave?” asked Dick, with vague visions of
primitive ancestors floating through his mind.
“No, of course not! The name cave came from the fact that there was a
deep den or cave somewhere on the place.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know, Dicky. It may be only tradition, or there may have been a
real cave, now filled up or covered over. I suppose it is in the
woodland part, if it’s anywhere.”
“But it must be somewhere, Aunt Rachel,” persisted Dick. “If they, my
great-grand-fathers, I mean, named the place Dana Dene because of a big
den, the den must be here yet.”
“Well, perhaps it is, child, but it hasn’t been seen or heard of for
many years, anyway. You may hunt for it, if you like, but I doubt if
you’ll find it.”
“Come on Dollums,” cried Dick, jumping up. “Let’s go and look for it. It
would be lots of fun if we could find it in time for the party!”
“Indeed it would not!” returned their aunt. “Find it if you want to, but
don’t play in it on the day of the party. I’d like you to keep
yourselves tidy on that occasion, and not go burrowing in caves. But
I’ve no idea you’ll find it. For, a cave that hasn’t been used for over
a hundred years, is likely to be filled up with earth and leaves. It
has, probably, entirely disappeared.”
“Well, we’ll have the fun of hunting,” said Dick, and away went the
twins on their new quest.
Michael and Pat were first interviewed.
“Did you ever see a cave or a den anywhere about the place?” they
inquired.
“Cave, is it?” said Michael. “Faith an’ I didn’t. Whativer are yez up to
now?”
“Oh, think!” cried Dick, impatiently. “Didn’t you see one, Pat, when you
were mowing the grass, or anything like that? Digging, you know.”
“I did not. There’s no cave around these diggin’s, unless so be it’s in
the woods. There may be a dozen caves in thim six acres of woodland.”
The twins were disappointed. It seemed a forlorn hope to try to
investigate six acres of doubtful territory.
“But do yez go and look,” said Michael. “It’s jist what ye need to use
up yer extry energy. Yer so cockylorum about yer party, that ye need a
scape valve fer yer overflowin’ sperrits. Go, now, an’ hunt yer cave.”
“Come on, Dolly,” said Dick. “We can’t do anything for the party,
there’s nothing for us to do. So we may as well go to the woods.”
“All right. I’d just as lieve go, and if the cave is there, I should
think we’d see it.”
“Av coorse ye will,” said Michael, grinning. “First, ye’ll see a
signboard, wid a finger pointien’ ‘This way to the Big Cave,’ thin ye go
right along to the entrance.”
“An’ pay yer quarter to the gateman, an’ walk in,” supplemented Pat.
The twins never minded the good-natured chaff of these two Irishmen, and
they only laughed, as hand in hand they trotted away.
They had been often to the wood, but heretofore they had noticed only
the trees and the stones and the low-growing vegetation. Now they
carefully examined the formation of the ground, and any
suspicious-looking hollow or mound.
“Maybe it was a smuggler’s cave,” said Dick, “and in it perhaps are lots
of things they smuggled and hid away.”
“Yes, I s’pect so,” said Dolly, who was of an amiable nature, and quite
willing to agree with Dick’s opinions, whenever she had no knowledge to
the contrary.
“Or maybe it’s a fairy cave,” she added. “That would be more likely,
’cause I think these are awful fairyish woods.”
“Why do you? You’ve never seen a fairy in ’em.”
“No, but I ’most have. I’ve seen lots of places where they come out and
dance at night. Pinkie shows ’em to me.”
“Pooh, she doesn’t know for sure.”
“No, not for sure. Nobody does. But she says most prob’ly that’s where
they dance. Do fairies ever live in caves, Dick?”
“Not ’zactly fairies. But dwarfs do, and gnomes and things like that?”
“Sprites?”
“Yes, I guess so. And brownies,—real brownies, I mean; not the
picture-book kind. Hello, Doll, here’s a place that looks cavy!”
Dick paused before a rough mass of soil and stones and mossy overgrowth,
that did seem to bear some resemblance to the blocked-up mouth of a
cave.
But it was just as much like a mere natural formation of ground, and
after digging and poking around with sticks, the children concluded it
was not a cave, after all.
“Oh, pshaw, we’ll never find a real cave, Dick; let’s go home. I’m
getting hungry.”
“So’m I. We can come back and hunt some other time. Aunt Rachel wouldn’t
let us play in it on party day, anyway.”
So back they went, and no one seemed surprised that they hadn’t
discovered a long-forgotten cave, perhaps full of hidden treasure.
The day before the party, Aunt Rachel and Aunt Abbie drove to town to
order the feast from the caterer’s.
The twins accompanied them, for the selection of the goodies was to be
partly left to their choice.
The caterer’s was a fascinating place, and Dick and Dolly exercised
great care and discretion in choosing the prettiest forms for the ices,
and the loveliest kinds of little fancy cakes, and the gayest sort of
snapping crackers.
The sandwiches and lemonade would be made at home, but all the rest of
the feast must be ordered, and Dick and Dolly were overwhelmed with
delight, as the aunties kept on adding bonbons, fruits, nuts, and all
sorts of delectable things to the long list.
“We never had such lovely parties at Auntie Helen’s,” said Dick,
reminiscently, as they drove home.
“We never had a real party there, anyway,” rejoined Dilly; “just only
little play-teas of an afternoon. This is different.”
“Yes,” said Miss Rachel, complacently, “this is a real party. It will be
one of the prettiest children’s parties ever given in Heatherton. That
is, if your foolish Eliza performance doesn’t spoil it.”
“Oh, that won’t spoil it, auntie,” said Dolly, confidently; “that will
only make it nicer.”
“Sure!” said Dick. “Just a boys’ and girls’ party wouldn’t be near so
much fun. Why, Auntie, Bob Hollister says he’s going to bring his Punch
and Judy, and Lucy Hollister has an awful big rag doll she’s going to
bring.”
“I think it will be funny,” said Aunt Abbie. “But you must leave all
those creatures out in the playground when you come in to supper.”
“Yes’m, we will,” agreed the twins.
The very morning of the party day an immense box came by express.
“Shure, it’s a big sofy, like your aunts has in the droring-room,” said
Michael, as he and Pat helped the expressman to take it from the wagon.
“No, it’s Saskatchewan!” shrieked Dick and Dolly, as they danced round
the box in glee. “Open it, Michael; oh, do hurry up!”
“Arrah, now, wait till I can get me sledgehammer,” and Michael went to
the tool-house for his strongest tools.
But after some diligent prying and hammering, the box was opened, and
buried in a nest of old newspaper and excelsior, was “Big Chief
Saskatchewan,” as a card tied to his wrist announced.
And if you please, instead of an Indian _doll_, he was a big wooden
Indian, of the kind that stands out in front of cigar stores. The
children screamed with glee, and even Michael and Pat exclaimed in
admiration as the heavy figure was finally set upright on his own
wheeled pedestal.
“Where do you suppose she ever got it?” said Aunt Rachel, as the two
aunts came out to view the new arrival.
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Miss Abbie, “but he does make a fine
companion for Lady Eliza.”
Saskatchewan, though a trifle weather-worn, was not marred or broken,
and the bundle of cigars had been cut away from his hand, and instead,
he held an Indian basket. But this was removable, and the twins saw at
once that they could put anything into his outstretched hand, from a
tomahawk to a pipe of peace. His blanket wrapped round him was painted
gorgeous red and yellow, and high-standing feathers surmounted his noble
brow. His expression was ferocious, but that was Indian nature, and Dick
and Dolly were so delighted with their new toy, that they embraced him
with the same vigorous affection they often showed their aunts. Then,
clasping hands with the aunties, the four danced round Saskatchewan and
bade him welcome to Dana Dene.
The Indian was too heavy to be moved around much though he could be
dragged, owing to the casters on the pedestal. But Aunt Rachel said she
thought he’d better be placed in the playground as a permanent
inhabitant thereof. For wind and weather would not hurt him, as it would
the more delicate Lady Eliza.
So Michael and Pat trundled the chief off to the playground, followed by
the admiring family.
He was given a choice position in a pleasant corner, and the twins said
they would build a bower over him some day.
“But we must make it big enough for two,” said Dolly, “so Lady Eliza can
stand beside him to receive their guests.”
“All right,” agreed Dick. “But I wish we could have it for this
afternoon. They’d look lovely under a bower.”
“So ye shall, thin,” said Michael. “Me an’ Pat, we’ll fix ye up a
timporary bower, that’ll gladden the eyes of ye,—that we will.”
So, the two kind-hearted men, anxious to please the children, hastily
erected a “bower” by making an arch of two-foot width “chicken-wire.”
This, when decorated with vines and flowers, was as pretty a bower as
one would wish to see, and Saskatchewan was placed beneath it, or rather
the bower was built over the Indian, where he stood awaiting the Lady
Eliza.