A bright little party gathered round the breakfast table Monday morning.
"Now, Uncle Eden," cried Maggie, "where shall we go to-day? It is Monday
now."
"What is proposed?"
Several plans were ready.
"Down in the cove of the bay," said Fenton, "where the lower brook comes
in--then I can fish off Old Woman's rock till lunch is ready."
"I propose the Indian falls," said Esther. "Flora and Meredith have
never seen them."
"_I_ say, Fort Montgomery," said Maggie.
"Fort Montgomery!" There was a general exclamation.
"Where is that?" Meredith asked.
"Seven miles down the river. Oh it is just lovely!" Maggie explained.
"We go down with the tide and come back with the tide, and spend the day
down on the hill there, opposite Anthony's Nose. I showed you from the
front door which Anthony's Nose is, Ditto."
"That would be delightful. The day is going to be perfectly quiet and
warm and sunny--just the thing."
"Seven miles," Fenton grunted. "Who's going to do the rowing?"
"I," said Meredith.
"And I," said Mr. Murray.
"And we can take Fairbairn," said Maggie; "and we had better, for there
will be the baskets to carry."
"Nonsense--I can carry baskets," said Meredith; "and get wood, and all
that."
"I think we can do without Fairbairn," said Mr. Murray. "I like the
plan. It is just the day for it. If it only turn out to be just the time
of tide also!"--
"We'll soon see about that," cried the boys. There was a rush and a
whoop and a race to the boat-house, and then a more leisurely return.
"It's all right," said Meredith. "Couldn't be better. It is half-past
eight now, and the tide just beginning to turn. It will be running down
till two o'clock--and just give us a nice current home."
"And a good pull, too," said Ponton.
"_That's_ all right, old boy. Come! don't you pull backwards. Now, how
soon can we be ready?"
"Just as soon as we can get our lunch ready, and the things," said
Maggie. "You might pack the things, Ditto, and get them into the boat,
while we see about lunch."
"What are 'things'?"
"Why, cups and saucers, and tea-kettle, and matches and plates, and
paper to light the fire, and everything, you know."
"Go off," said Mr. Murray, "and see about victualling the ship. I can
manage the cups and saucers."
So Maggie and Esther ran to consult Betsey, who now held a nondescript
position of usefulness in the family, and was acting cook while Mrs.
Candlish was away--cook proper being absent on leave.
"O Betsey! we are going out, to be gone all day; and now, what can we
have for lunch?"
"Lunch, Miss Maggie!"--
"Yes, and you know we want a good deal. There are six of us."
"You know, it's Monday."
"Well, what of it?"
"There h'aint so much as if t'was any other day. You see, yesterday it
was Sunday."
"Oh well! what have we got, Betsey? I know you have got something."
"There's bread, Miss h'Esther."
"We want more than bread. And butter, and tea and coffee and all that.
We must have something more, Betsey. What _have_ you got?"
"The chickens is nothing left of 'em; and that 'am bone h'aint got much
on it. I do think, Miss Maggie, ye consume a great deal in the woods!"
"Of course we do. And we want a good, hearty lunch to-day, because the
boys and Uncle Eden will have a long way to row. Come, Betsey, make
haste."
"There h'aint a living thing in the 'ouse, but h'oysters, and h'eggs,
and potatoes. That is, nothing cooked. And ye want dressed meat."
"Oysters?" said Maggie doubtfully.
"Capital," said Esther. "And sweet potatoes. We can bake them in the
ashes. And eggs are good. Meredith will make us another friar's omelet."
"There's nothing else for ye," said Betsey, summing up.
So Fairbairn carried a great bag of oysters down to the boat, and a
basket with the potatoes and eggs, and the kettle, and a pail to fetch
water in. And into other baskets went everything else that everybody
could think of as possibly wanting from the house. Affghan and worsted,
finally, and the merry party themselves.
Ten o'clock, and a soft, fair, mild day as could ever have been wished
for. Not much haze to-day, yet a tempered sunlight, such as October
rejoices in. No wind, and a blue sky far more tender in hue and less
intense than that of summer. Little racks of cloud scattered along the
horizon were, like everything else in nature, quiet and at rest; no
hurry, no driving; no storms, no ripening sun-heat; earth's harvests
gathered in and done for that year, and nature at rest and at play. And
with slow, leisurely strokes of the oar, the little boat fell down with
the tide; she was at play too. Sunshades were not opened; shawls were
not unfolded; in the perfection of atmosphere and temperature there was
nothing to do but to breathe and enjoy. At first even talking was
checked by the calm beauty, the grand hush, of earth and sky. The boat
crossed over to Gee's Point, and from there coasted down under the
shore. There the colours of the woods showed plainly in their variety;
dark red oaks, olive green cedars, dusky chestnut oaks and purple ashes;
with now and then a hickory in clear gold, or a maple flaunting in red
and yellow. They all succeeded one another in turn, with ever fresh
combinations; on the opposite shore the same thing softened by distance;
overhead that clear, pale blue of October.
"I do not realise that I am living in the common world!" said Flora at
last. "I seem to be floating somewhere in fairy-land."
"It's October--that is all," said Mr. Murray.
"Then I never saw October before."
"Aren't you glad to make his acquaintance?" said her brother.
"But how can one come down to November after it?"
"Oh, November is _lovely_!" cried Maggie. "It is lovely here."
"At Mosswood? Well, I can believe it. But at Leeds November comes with a
scowl and a bluster and takes one by the shoulders and gives one a
shake--to put one in order for winter, I suppose."
"I don't think shaking puts anything in order," remarked Esther.
"No. Now _this_--" said Flora, wistfully looking around her--"this comes
as near making me feel good, as anything can."
"Take a lesson--" said Mr. Murray.
"But after all, the months must be according to their nature," said
Flora.
"Certainly. The difference is, that _you_ may choose what manner of
nature you will be of. It all depends, you know," Mr. Murray went on
smiling, "on how much of the sun the months get. And on how much of the
sun you get."
"How can I choose?" said Flora.
"How? Why, you may be in the full sunshine all the time if you like."
Again the boat dropped down the stream silently. The way was long;
seven miles is a good deal in a row-boat; so they took it leisurely and
enjoyed to the full the consciousness that it _was_ a long way, and they
should have a great deal of it. By and by they came to a little rocky
island or promontory, connected with the mainland by marsh meadows at
least if by nothing more, to get round which they had to make quite a
wide sweep. When they had passed it and drew into the shore again, they
were already nearing the southern hills which from Mosswood looked so
distant and seemed to lock into one another. They had the same seeming
still, though standing out now in brighter tints and new and detailed
beauty. On and on the little boat went, coasting along. No further break
in the line of shore for a good while; only they were nearing and
nearing that nest of hills. At last they came abreast of one or two
houses, where a well-defined road came down to the river.
"Do we land here?" asked Flora.
"Not yet. Round on the other side of that bluff we shall come to a
creek, with a mill; that is the place. Are you in a hurry?"
"I should like to sail so all day!"
They floated down with the tide and a little movement of the oars; there
was absolutely no wind. The sloops and schooners in the river drifted or
swung at anchor. Hardly a leaf moved on a stem. The tide ran fast,
however, and the little boat slipped easily past the gay banks, with
their kaleidoscope changes of colour. This piece of the way nevertheless
seemed long, just because the inexperienced were constantly expecting it
to come to an end; but on and on the boat glided, and there was never a
creek or a mill to be seen.
"Uncle Eden," said Maggie, "there _used_ to be a creek here somewhere."
"Certainly."
"There is none here now," said Flora.
"That you see."
"I can look along the shore for a good way, Mr. Murray. Are we going
quite down to those mountains?"
"No. You will see the creek presently."
"The banks seem without the least break in them."
"It will not do to trust to appearances. Have you not found that out
yet?"
"I tell you what, I'm getting hungry," said Fenton, who was taking his
turn at the oars.
"Eleven o'clock. You will have to control your impatience for some time
yet," said Meredith.
"I can tell you, this boat is awfully heavy," said Fenton. He had meant
to use a stronger word, but changed it. "Can't we get lunch by twelve?"
"Oh no! we shall have some reading first, I guess," said Maggie. "Lunch
at twelve? Why, you never have it till one, Fenton."
"Makes a difference whether you are pulling a dozen people and forty
baskets along," rejoined her brother. "It's an awful bore, to have to do
things."
There was a general merry burst at that.
"What sort of things, Fenton? Do you want to live like a South Sea
Island savage?" his uncle asked.
"Uncommonly jolly, _I_ should think," responded Fenton. "Dive into the
surf and get a lobster, climb into a tree and fetch down a
cocoanut--there's your dinner."
"A very queer dinner," remarked Maggie, amid renewed merriment.
"I never heard that lobsters were fished out of breakers, either," said
Flora.
"You seem to think it is no work to fight the breakers and climb the
cocoanut trees," remarked Mr. Murray. "However, I grant you, it would
not occupy a great deal of time. Is your idea of life, that it is useful
only for eating purposes?"
"It comes to that, pretty much," said the boy. "What do people work for,
if it isn't to live! I don't care how they work."
"Some people's aim is to get where they will do nothing," said Mr.
Murray. "Do you see a bit of a break yonder in the lines of the shore,
Miss Flora?"
"Is it?--yes, it is the creek!" cried Maggie joyously. "It is the creek.
Now you can see it, Flora."
It opened fast upon them now as they came near, quite a wide-mouthed
little creek, setting in among wooded banks which soon narrowed upon it.
Just before they narrowed, an old mill stood by the side of the water,
and there were some steps by which one could land. There the boat was
made fast, and the little party disembarked, glad after all to feel
their feet again; and baskets one after another were handed out.
"What is all this cargo?" said Fenton, grumbling; "and who's going to
carry it to the top of the hill? Suppose we stay down here?"
"And lose all the view?" said Maggie.
"And the walk? and the fun?" said Esther.
"Fun!" echoed Fenton. "Just take that sack along with you, if you want
fun. What ever have you got in it? cannon balls?"
"Oysters."
"Oysters! In the shell! Why didn't you have them taken out? What's in
this basket? this is as bad."
"Cups and saucers, and spoons and plates, and such things."
"We could have done without them."
"How?"
"Eat with our fingers."
"You had better go to the South Sea Islands, and done with it," said
Esther. "Come--you take hold of one side of the basket and I of the
other."
"No, Essie," said her uncle; "that would be very unchivalrous. Do not
ask Fenton such a thing. In the South Sea Islands men may make women do
the work for them; but not here. Come, my boy, here are three of us and
only a basket apiece; take up your burden and be thankful, and be
brave."
I am afraid Fenton was neither; but he shouldered his basket; and being
an athletic fellow, managed to reach the top of the hill without more
muscular distress than the others showed. Of the state of his mind I
say nothing further; but the truth is, the way was rather long. Nobody
knew the shortest cut to the place they desired to reach; so they wound
about among thickets of low cedar, sprinkled here and there with taller
pines, going up and down and round about for some time. At last they
found their way to the top of the ridge, and wandering along in search
of a suitable place for their rest and pleasure, came out upon an open
bit of turf and moss on the highest ground, over which a group of white
pines stretched their sheltering branches. The view was clear over a
very long stretch of the river with its eastern shore; indeed they could
look up quite to the turn of the river at Gee's point; Gee's Point
itself hid Mosswood from them.
With acclamations the party deposited their baskets and threw themselves
down on the bank. The gentle warmth of the sun was not shorn of its
effect by the least stir of wind; the moss and grass were perfectly dry;
and the lookout over river and shores was lovely. Sugarloaf showed now
true to its name, an elegant little cone. The sails of the two or three
vessels the party had passed in coming down the river were so still that
they served to emphasise the general stillness; they hung lazily waiting
for a breeze and could not carry their hulls fast or far.
For a while the pleasure party could do nothing but rest and look. But
after a while Meredith roused himself to further action. He began
wandering about; what he was searching for did not appear, until he came
back with an armful of green, soft, pine branches.
"Now if you will just get up for a few minutes," said he, "I will give
you a couch to rest upon." And he went on to lay the branches thick
together, so as to form a very yielding comfortable layer of cushions,
on which the party stretched themselves with new pleasure and strong
appreciation. Meredith had to bring a good many armfuls of pine branches
to accommodate them all; at last he had done, and flung himself down
like the rest.
"When do you want your fire made?" said he.
"Somebody else is hungry, I am afraid," said Flora.
"I cannot deny it. But I can wait as long as you can!"
"I am _very_ hungry," said Flora.
"I believe I shall be," said Mr. Murray, "by the time our luncheon can
be ready. Here's for a fire!"
They all went about it. To find a place and to arrange stones for the
kettle, and to collect fuel, and to build and kindle the fire. Stones
for the chimney-place were not at hand in manageable size; so Mr. Murray
planted three strong sticks on the ground with their bases a couple of
feet or so apart and their heads tied together; and slung the kettle to
them, over the fire. This was very pretty, and drew forth great
expressions of admiration. Then while waiting for the kettle to boil,
they all threw themselves on their pine branches again and called for a
story; only Fenton sat by the fire to keep it up. Meredith took his book
from his pocket and laid it on the pine branches, open before him.
"You could not attend to anything very deep till you have had something
to eat," he said. "I will give you something easy."
"Most of your stories are so profound," added Flora.
"Never mind; listen."