CHAPTER VIII

WHEREIN THE LIMBERLOST TEMPTS ELNORA, AND BILLY BURIES HIS FATHER

Immediately after dinner on Sunday Wesley Sinton stopped at the

Comstock gate to ask if Elnora wanted to go to town with them. Billy

sat beside him and he did not appear as if he were on his way to a

funeral. Elnora said she had to study and could not go, but she

suggested that her mother take her place. Mrs. Comstock put on her hat

and went at once, which surprised Elnora. She did not know that her

mother was anxious for an opportunity to speak with Sinton alone.

Elnora knew why she was repeatedly cautioned not to leave their land,

if she went specimen hunting.

She studied two hours and was several lessons ahead of her classes.

There was no use to go further. She would take a walk and see if she

could gather any caterpillars or find any freshly spun cocoons. She

searched the bushes and low trees behind the garden and all around the

edge of the woods on their land, and having little success, at last

came to the road. Almost the first thorn bush she examined yielded a

Polyphemus cocoon. Elnora lifted her head with the instinct of a hunter

on the chase, and began work. She reached the swamp before she knew it,

carrying five fine cocoons of different species as her reward. She

pushed back her hair and gazed around longingly. A few rods inside she

thought she saw cocoons on a bush, to which she went, and found

several. Sense of caution was rapidly vanishing; she was in a fair way

to forget everything and plunge into the swamp when she thought she

heard footsteps coming down the trail. She went back, and came out

almost facing Pete Corson.

That ended her difficulty. She had known him since childhood. When she

sat on the front bench of the Brushwood schoolhouse, Pete had been one

of the big boys at the back of the room. He had been rough and wild,

but she never had been afraid of him, and often he had given her pretty

things from the swamp.

“What luck!” she cried. “I promised mother I would not go inside the

swamp alone, and will you look at the cocoons I’ve found! There are

more just screaming for me to come get them, because the leaves will

fall with the first frost, and then the jays and crows will begin to

tear them open. I haven’t much time, since I’m going to school. You

will go with me, Pete! Please say yes! Just a little way!”

“What are those things?” asked the man, his keen black eyes staring at

her.

“They are the cases these big caterpillars spin for winter, and in the

spring they come out great night moths, and I can sell them. Oh, Pete,

I can sell them for enough to take me through high school and dress me

so like the others that I don’t look different, and if I have very good

luck I can save some for college. Pete, please go with me?”

“Why don’t you go like you always have?”

“Well, the truth is, I had a little scare,” said Elnora. “I never did

mean to go alone; sometimes I sort of wandered inside farther than I

intended, chasing things. You know Duncan gave me Freckles’s books, and

I have been gathering moths like he did. Lately I found I could sell

them. If I can make a complete collection, I can get three hundred

dollars for it. Three such collections would take me almost through

college, and I’ve four years in the high school yet. That’s a long

time. I might collect them.”

“Can every kind there is be found here?”

“No, not all of them, but when I get more than I need of one kind, I

can trade them with collectors farther north and west, so I can

complete sets. It’s the only way I see to earn the money. Look what I

have already. Big gray Cecropias come from this kind; brown Polyphemus

from that, and green Lunas from these. You aren’t working on Sunday. Go

with me only an hour, Pete!”

The man looked at her narrowly. She was young, wholesome, and

beautiful. She was innocent, intensely in earnest, and she needed the

money, he knew that.

“You didn’t tell me what scared you,” he said.

“Oh, I thought I did! Why you know I had Freckles’s box packed full of

moths and specimens, and one evening I sold some to the Bird Woman.

Next morning I found a note telling me it wasn’t safe to go inside the

swamp. That sort of scared me. I think I’ll go alone, rather than miss

the chance, but I’d be so happy if you would take care of me. Then I

could go anywhere I chose, because if I mired you could pull me out.

You will take care of me, Pete?”

“Yes, I’ll take care of you,” promised Pete Corson.

“Goody!” said Elnora. “Let’s start quick! And Pete, you look at these

closely, and when you are hunting or going along the road, if one

dangles under your nose, you cut off the little twig and save it for

me, will you?”

“Yes, I’ll save you all I see,” promised Pete. He pushed back his hat

and followed Elnora. She plunged fearlessly among bushes, over

underbrush, and across dead logs. One minute she was crying wildly,

that here was a big one, the next she was reaching for a limb above her

head or on her knees overturning dead leaves under a hickory or oak

tree, or working aside black muck with her bare hands as she searched

for buried pupae cases. For the first hour Pete bent back bushes and

followed, carrying what Elnora discovered. Then he found one.

“Is this the kind of thing you are looking for?” he asked bashfully, as

he presented a wild cherry twig.

“Oh Pete, that’s a Promethea! I didn’t even hope to find one.”

“What’s the bird like?” asked Pete.

“Almost black wings,” said Elnora, “with clay-coloured edges, and the

most wonderful wine-coloured flush over the under side if it’s a male,

and stronger wine above and below if it’s a female. Oh, aren’t I

happy!”

“How would it do to make what you have into a bunch that we could leave

here, and come back for them?”

“That would be all right.”

Relieved of his load Pete began work. First, he narrowly examined the

cocoons Elnora had found. He questioned her as to what other kinds

would be like. He began to use the eyes of a trained woodman and hunter

in her behalf. He saw several so easily, and moved through the forest

so softly, that Elnora forgot the moths in watching him. Presently she

was carrying the specimens, and he was making the trips of

investigation to see which was a cocoon and which a curled leaf, or he

was on his knees digging around stumps. As he worked he kept asking

questions. What kind of logs were best to look beside, what trees were

pupae cases most likely to be under; on what bushes did caterpillars

spin most frequently? Time passed, as it always does when one’s

occupation is absorbing.

When the Sintons took Mrs. Comstock home, they stopped to see Elnora.

She was not there. Mrs. Comstock called at the edge of her woods and

received no reply. Then Wesley turned and drove back to the Limberlost.

He left Margaret and Mrs. Comstock holding the team and entertaining

Billy, while he entered the swamp.

Elnora and Pete had made a wide trail behind them. Before Sinton had

thought of calling, he heard voices and approached with some caution.

Soon he saw Elnora, her flushed face beaming as she bent with an

armload of twigs and branches and talked to a kneeling man.

“Now go cautiously!” she was saying. “I am just sure we will find an

Imperialis here. It’s their very kind of a place. There! What did I

tell you! Isn’t that splendid? Oh, I am so glad you came with me!”

Wesley stood staring in speechless astonishment, for the man had

arisen, brushed the dirt from his hands, and held out to Elnora a small

shining dark pupa case. As his face came into view Sinton almost cried

out, for he was the one man of all others Wesley knew with whom he most

feared for Elnora’s safety. She had him on his knees digging pupae

cases for her from the swamp.

“Elnora!” called Sinton. “Elnora!”

“Oh, Uncle Wesley!” cried the girl. “See what luck we’ve had! I know we

have a dozen and a half cocoons and we have three pupae cases. It’s

much harder to get the cases because you have to dig for them, and you

can’t see where to look. But Pete is fine at it! He’s found three, and

he says he will keep watch beside the roads, and through the woods

while he hunts. Isn’t that splendid of him? Uncle Wesley, there is a

college over there on the western edge of the swamp. Look closely, and

you can see the great dome up among the clouds.”

“I should say you have had luck,” said Wesley, striving to make his

voice natural. “But I thought you were not coming to the swamp?”

“Well, I wasn’t,” said Elnora, “but I couldn’t find many anywhere else,

honest, I couldn’t, and just as soon as I came to the edge I began to

see them here. I kept my promise. I didn’t come in alone. Pete came

with me. He’s so strong, he isn’t afraid of anything, and he’s

perfectly splendid to locate cocoons! He’s found half of these. Come

on, Pete, it’s getting dark now, and we must go.”

They started toward the trail, Pete carrying the cocoons. He left them

at the case, while Elnora and Wesley went on to the carriage together.

“Elnora Comstock, what does this mean?” demanded her mother.

“It’s all right, one of the neighbours was with her, and she got

several dollars’ worth of stuff,” interposed Wesley.

“You oughter seen my pa,” shouted Billy. “He was ist all whited out,

and he laid as still as anything. They put him away deep in the

ground.”

“Billy!” breathed Margaret in a prolonged groan.

“Jimmy and Belle are going to be together in a nice place. They are

coming to see me, and Snap is right down here by the wheel. Here, Snap!

My, but he’ll be tickled to get something to eat! He’s ’most twisted as

me. They get new clothes, and all they want to eat, too, but they’ll

miss me. They couldn’t have got along without me. I took care of them.

I had a lot of things give to me ’cause I was the littlest, and I

always divided with them. But they won’t need me now.”

When she left the carriage Mrs. Comstock gravely shook hands with

Billy. “Remember,” she said to him, “I love boys, and I love dogs.

Whenever you don’t have a good time up there, take your dog and come

right down and be my little boy. We will just have loads of fun. You

should hear the whistles I can make. If you aren’t treated right you

come straight to me.”

Billy wagged his head sagely. “You ist bet I will!” he said.

“Mother, how could you?” asked Elnora as they walked up the path.

“How could I, missy? You better ask how couldn’t I? I just couldn’t!

Not for enough to pay my road tax! Not for enough to pay the road tax,

and the dredge tax, too!”

“Aunt Margaret always has been lovely to me, and I don’t think it’s

fair to worry her.”

“I choose to be lovely to Billy, and let her sweat out her own worries

just as she has me, these sixteen years. There is nothing in all this

world so good for people as taking a dose of their own medicine. The

difference is that I am honest. I just say in plain English, ‘if they

don’t treat you right, come to me.’ They have only said it in actions

and inferences. I want to teach Mag Sinton how her own doses taste, but

she begins to sputter before I fairly get the spoon to her lips. Just

you wait!”

“When I think what I owe her——” began Elnora.

“Well, thank goodness, I don’t owe her anything, and so I’m perfectly

free to do what I choose. Come on, and help me get supper. I’m hungry

as Billy!”

Margaret Sinton rocked slowly back and forth in her chair. On her

breast lay Billy’s red head, one hand clutched her dress front with

spasmodic grip, even after he was unconscious.

“You mustn’t begin that, Margaret,” said Sinton. “He’s too heavy. And

it’s bad for him. He’s better off to lie down and go to sleep alone.”

“He’s very light, Wesley. He jumps and quivers so. He has to be

stronger than he is now, before he will sleep soundly.”

A Girl of the Limberlost · 第 8 / 25 章