REAL INDIANS
"Now we will have to watch Downy or he will be sure to take that trip
again," said Bert, as they reached home with the enterprising duck.
"We could build a kind of dam across the narrowest part of the lake,"
suggested Hal; "kind of a close fence he would not go through. See,
over there it is only a little stream, about five feet wide. We can
easily fence that up. I've got lots of material up in our garden
house."
"That would be a good idea," agreed Bert. "We can put Downy in the
barn until we get it built. We won't take any more chances." So
Downy was shut up in his box, back of the donkey stall, for the rest
of the day.
"How far back do these woods run?" Harry asked his companions, he
always being interested in acres, as all real country boys are.
"I don't know," Hal Bingham answered. "I never felt like going to the
end to find out. But they say the Indians had reservations out here
not many years ago."
"Then I'll bet there are lots of arrow heads and stone hatchets
around. Let's go look. Have we time before dinner, Bert?" Harry
asked.
"I guess so," replied the cousin. "Uncle William's train does not get
in until seven, and we can be back by that time. We'll have to slip
away from Freddie, though. Here he comes. Hide!" and at this the
boys got behind things near the donkey house, and Freddie, after
calling and looking around, went back to the house without finding the
"boy boys."
"We can cross the lake in my boat," said Hal, as they left their
hiding-places. "Then, we will be right in the woods. I'll tie the
boat on the other side until we come back; no one will touch it."
"Is there no bridge?" Harry asked.
"Not nearer than the crossings, away down near the ocean beach," said
Bert. "But the boat will be all right. There are no thieves around
here."
It was but a few minutes' work to paddle across the lake and tie up
the canoe on the opposite shore. Hal and Bert started off, feeling
they would find something interesting, under Harry's leadership.
It was quite late in the afternoon, and the thick pines and ferns made
the day almost like night, as the boys tramped along.
"Fine big birds around here," remarked Harry, as the feathered
creatures of the ocean darted through the trees, making their way to
the lake's edge.
"Yes, we're planning for a Thanksgiving shoot," Hal told him. "We
hope, if we make it up, you can come down."
"I'd like to first-rate," said Harry. "Hello!" he suddenly exclaimed,
"I thought I kicked over a stone hatchet head."
Instantly the three boys were on their knees searching through the
brown pine needles.
"There it is!" declared Harry, picking up a queer-shaped stone.
"That's real Indian--I know. Father has some, but this is the first I
was ever lucky enough to find."
The boys examined the stone. There were queer marks on it, but they
were so worn down it was impossible to tell what they might mean.
"What tribe camped here?" asked Harry.
"I don't know," answered Hal. "I just heard an old farmer, out
Berkley way, talking about the Indians. You see, we only come down
here in the summer time. Then we keep so close to the ocean we don't
do much exploring."
The boys were so interested now they did not notice how dark it was
getting. Neither did they notice the turns they were making in the deep
woodlands. Now and then a new stone would attract their attention.
They would kick it over, pick it up, and if it were of queer shape it
would be pocketed for further inspection.
"Say," said Hal, suddenly, "doesn't it look like night?" and at that
he ran to a clear spot between the trees, where he might see the sky.
"Sure as you live it is night!" he called back to the others. "We
better pick the trail back to our canoe, or we may have to become real
Indians and camp out here in spite of our appetites."
Then the boys discovered that the trees were much alike, and there
were absolutely no paths to follow.
"Well, there's where the sun went down, so we must turn our back to
that," advised Hal, as they tramped about, without making any progress
toward finding the way home.
What at first seemed to be fun, soon turned out to be a serious
matter; for the boys really could not find their way home. Each, in
turn, thought he had the right way, but soon found he was mistaken.
"Well, I'll give up!" said Hal. "To think we could be lost like three
babies!"
"Only worse," added Harry, "for little fellows would cry and someone
might help them."
"Oh! oh! oh! oh! we're lost! We're the babes in the woods!" shouted
Bert at the top of his voice, joking, yet a little in earnest.
"Let's build a fire," suggested Harry. "That's the way the Indians
used to do. When our comrades see the smoke of the fire they will
come and rescue us."
The other boys agreed to follow the chief's direction. So they set to
work. It took some time to get wood together, and to start the fire,
but when it was finally lighted, they sat around it and wasted a lot
of time. It would have been better had they tried to get out of the
woods, for as they waited, it grew darker.
"I wouldn't mind staying here all night," drawled Harry, stretching
himself out on the dry leaves alongside the fire.
"Well, I'd like supper first," put in Hal. "We were to have roast
duck to-night," and he smacked his lips.
"What was that!" Harry exclaimed, jumping up.
"A bell, I thought," whispered Hal, quite frightened.
"Indians!" added Bert. "Oh, take me home!" he wailed, and while he
tried to laugh, it was a failure, for he really felt more like crying.
"There it is again. A cow bell!" declared Harry, who could not be
mistaken on bells.
"Let's find the cow and maybe she will then find us," he suggested,
starting off in the direction that the "tink-tink-tink-tink" came
from.
"Here she is!" he called, the next moment, as he walked up to a pretty
little cow with the bell on her neck. "Now, where do you belong?"
Harry asked the cow. "Do you know where the Cliffs are, and how we
can get home?"
The cow was evidently hungry for her supper, and bellowed loud and
long. Then she rubbed her head against Harry's sleeve, and started to
walk through the dark woods.
"If we follow her she will take us out, all right," said Harry, and so
the three boys willingly started off after the cow.
Just as Harry had said, she made her way to a path, then the rest of
the way was clear.
"Hurrah!" shouted Hal, "I smell supper already," and now, at the end of
the path, an opening in the trees showed a few scattered houses.
"Why, we are away outside of Berkley," went on Hal. "Now, we will
have a long tramp home, but I'm glad even at that, for a night under
the trees was not a pleasant prospect."
"We must take this cow home first," said Harry, with a farmer's
instinct. "Where do you suppose she belongs?"
"We might try that house first," suggested Bert, pointing to a cottage
with a small barn, a little way from the wood.
"Come, Cush," said Harry, to the strange cow, and the animal
obediently walked along.
There was no need to make inquiries, for outside of the house a little
woman met them.
"Oh, you've found her!" she began. "Well, my husband was just going
to the pound, for that old miser of a pound master takes a cow in
every chance he gets, just for the fine. Come, Daisy, you're hungry,"
and she patted the cow affectionately. "Now, young men, I'm obliged
to you, and you have saved a poor man a day's pay, for that is just
what the fine would be. If you will accept a pail of milk each, I
have the cans, and would be glad to give you each a quart. You might
have berries for dinner," she finished.
"We would be very glad of the milk," spoke up Harry, promptly, always
wide awake and polite when there was a question that concerned
farmers.
"Do you live far?" asked the woman.
"Only at the Cliffs," said Harry. "We will soon he home now. But we
were lost until your cow found us. She brought us here, or we would
be in the woods yet."
"Well, I do declare!" laughed the little woman, filling each of three
pails from the fresh milk, that stood on a bench, under the kitchen
window. "Now, our man goes right by your house to-morrow morning, and
if you leave the pails outside he will get them. Maybe your mothers
might like some fresh milk, or buttermilk, or fresh eggs, or new
butter?" she asked.
"Shouldn't wonder," said Hal. "We have hard work to get fresh stuff;
they seem to send it all to the hotels. I'll let the man know when he
comes for the pails."
"Thank you, thank you," replied the little woman, "and much obliged
for bringing Daisy home. If you ever want a drink of milk, and are
out this way, just knock at my door and I'll see you don't go away
thirsty."
After more thanks on both sides, the lost boys started homeward, like
a milk brigade, each with his bright tin pail of sweet new milk in his
hand.