Kate, the cook, being still asleep, started out on the highway.
“I left a note at mother’s place on the table,” Adele said, “and I told
her that we might be gone all the morning.”
Hand in hand the two girls skipped along the deserted road, through the
village and out into the country.
There the dwellers in tree and grass were awake; no laggards were they.
“Good morning to you, little squirrel,” Eva called gayly, as a little
red creature darted by. Adele noted with pleasure her friend’s shining
face.
“Good-morning, meadow-lark,” she called to a bird which was perched on a
fence-post, warbling its cheeriest song. Then, single file, they tripped
over the little brown path which led across the Buttercup Meadows and on
up the hill.
“Look at yonder gnarled oak-tree,” Adele exclaimed. “If we rapped upon
it, do you suppose a door would open and a girl dryad would appear?”
“Oh!” Eva cried, as she stretched her arms out toward the glistening
fields which lay below them. “I almost wish that I _was_ a dryad and
that I could live forever in the wonderful green out-of-doors.”
“Let’s play that we are dryads,” suggested Adele, who had not outgrown
her delight in making-believe.
“Very well,” Eva gayly replied, as she began to unbraid her thick golden
hair. “We’ll weave garlands of oak leaves and then we’ll dance on the
hill-top.”
“Oh, Eva!” Adele cried admiringly. “You have the prettiest hair that I
ever saw. You are like a fairytale princess, whose golden tresses hung
like a mantle over her shoulders.”
“I’m glad,” Eva said simply. “I want to look nice to you. Now shake down
your locks, my nut-brown maid, and I’ll crown you with these oak
leaves.”
“We ought to have different names,” Adele declared. “You be Dryad Fern
and I’ll be Dryad Oakleaf.” Then, taking Eva by the hand, she called
merrily, “Come, Dryad Fern, let’s sing and dance, where the wild birds
wing and the sunbeams glance.”
Away they went, skipping and singing, as graceful and lovely as two
dryads could be. On the hill-top, just for the joy of it, Eva whirled
about alone, and Adele, breaking a hollow reed, pretended to play upon
it, when suddenly a strange voice called, “Lovely! Lovely! How lucky I
am to meet two dryads!”
The girls turned and beheld a young woman who was seated in front of an
easel. “Good morning, little dryads,” she said, with a pleasant smile.
“You see I am painting that oak-tree on the hill-top. I was wishing for
a dryad to appear, and lo, there you were! Now, here you go upon the
canvas!”
“Oh, how beautiful!” Eva exclaimed, as she looked at the picture of the
hill-top and the gnarled oak and the wide, sunny skies. “If I could
paint like that I should be so happy.”
The artist looked at the girl with a bright smile. “Perhaps you could if
you tried,” she said. “Have you done any sketching?”
“No,” Eva replied. “I have not had any chance.”
“I believe that you might have talent,” the artist said pleasantly. “I
am Madge Peterson, from the city. My young brother and I are spending a
fortnight at Little Bear Lake, and if you two dryads will go down to the
inn with me, I’ll get my things and we’ll go sketching. How would you
like that?”
“We’d love it!” Adele exclaimed, glad to have pleasant things happening,
for she did so want this to be the happiest weekend of Eva’s whole life.
Soon the easel and paints were packed and Madge Peterson, who was little
more than a girl herself, having just had her eighteenth birthday,
beamed on her two new friends as she said, “Come now, little dryads; we
will start on our downward way.”
“Oh,” exclaimed Adele, “I forgot something!”
“What?” asked Madge, looking up brightly.
“My manners,” Adele laughingly replied. “Miss Peterson, I never thought
to tell you what our names are.”
“Why, yes you did,” Madge replied gayly. “You are Dryad Oakleaf and your
friend is Dryad Fern.”
“Oh, but we change back to girls when we leave the oak-trees,” Adele
said, as she began to braid her wavy brown hair, while Eva did the same
to her golden locks.
“It’s a pity,” said Madge, who thought that she had never before met two
lovelier girls.
“There!” Adele exclaimed when their hats were on. “Now, Miss Madge
Peterson, from the city, permit me to introduce to you my friend, Eva
Dearman, and myself, Adele Doring, from Sunnyside.”
“I am delighted to meet you,” Madge laughingly declared.
The path they were following was rounding the hill, and suddenly Eva
stood still with an exclamation of joy.
“Adele,” she cried, “I didn’t know that there was such a lovely little
lake on the other side of Lookout Hill. I have never been in this
direction since I came to the Home.”
Poor Eva, suddenly realizing what she had said, blushed crimson, and
then she hurriedly explained. “Oh, Miss Peterson, I’m just a girl from
an Orphans’ Home, whom Adele is befriending, out of pity, I guess.”
“How can you say such a thing, Eva Dearman!” Adele exclaimed, with
flashing eyes, as she put her arm around her friend. “I love you just as
much as I do any of the Sunny Six, and my mother says that it doesn’t
matter what clothes we wear or what house we live in; it’s what we are
that counts.”
“That is indeed true,” Madge Peterson said kindly. “You are a princess
among girls, Eva, and a princess is no less royal because, for a time,
she is kept in a dungeon.” Then, to change their thought, Madge
exclaimed: “See that sail-boat rounding Pine Island! There’s a merry
breeze down there; you can tell by the ripple on the water. Why,
whatever has happened? The sail-boat has tipped over. Come, let us
hasten down to the shore and see if we can help.”
Hurriedly they scrambled through the berry-bushes to the edge of the
lake. The up-turned sail-boat was drifting toward them, and a
good-looking lad dressed in white was calmly sitting on the side of it.
“I declare if that isn’t my brother, Everett,” laughed Madge. Then,
making a funnel of her hands, she called, “Ship ahoy!”
The lad, looking toward them, recognized his sister with a joyous shout,
and, leaping into the water, he swam ashore and soon stood before them,
dripping wet.
“Miss Doring and Miss Dearman,” exclaimed Madge mischievously, “may I
present to you my young brother, Everett? If I had not claimed him, you
might have mistaken him for a white water-rat, if such a creature
exists.”
Everett made a deep bow as he gayly cried, “Young ladies, may I take you
for a sail? My boat will be in directly.”
“You may row us out to Pine Island in about half an hour,” Madge
declared, “and now we’ll leave you to your fate.”
“My brother is just learning to sail a boat,” she explained, as she led
the girls toward Little Bear Inn.
“What pretty gardens!” Eva said. “And, oh, what a picturesque, rambling
old house!”
The inn was built of rough logs, and all about it stood great old
pine-trees, through which the breeze was murmuring.
“I do love pine-trees,” Adele exclaimed. “There’s something so restful
about them.”
“I like them, too,” Madge said, as she led the girls across the wide
veranda, on which were rustic chairs and tables and green bowls filled
with ferns and wild flowers.
Eva thought that she had never seen anything more attractive than the
big cool room which they next entered. There were heavy beams overhead,
and the furniture was green willow, comfortably upholstered in dark red.
There were antlers on the wall, and pictures of deer drinking at the
edge of the lake.
“Do look!” Eva exclaimed. “Here is a picture of the darlingest little
bear. Oh, Miss Peterson, was the lake named after him, do you suppose?”
“So they say,” Madge replied. “There is a story about it, which as yet I
have not heard.”
Madge excused herself and went to her own room to put away her easel and
paints and to get her sketching materials. A moment later she returned
with shining eyes. “Little dryads,” she said, “I have a beautiful plan.
You don’t have to hurry back, do you?”
“Not if I can let mother know where we are,” Adele replied. “She will be
expecting us home about noon, and I do not want her to be worried. We
left so early that I haven’t seen her to-day.”
Madge Peterson pointed toward a table in the far corner of the room as
she laughingly declared, “Yonder is the modern Mercury, who will gladly
carry a message to your mother.”
“Good!” exclaimed Adele when she saw the telephone. “But, Miss Peterson,
you have not told me what I am to say to my mother.”
“Ask her if you may stay to lunch with me and spend the afternoon,”
Madge replied.
“Oh, how nice that will be,” Adele said. “And I am sure that Adorable
Mumsie will say Yes.”
She was quite right. Mrs. Doring, knowing that she could rely upon
Adele’s good judgment, readily granted the permission desired.
“I’m so glad,” Madge Peterson said gayly. “Now I’ll hie me kitchenward
and have a basket filled with good things to eat. Then we’ll hunt up
brother Everett, who is a much better oarsman than sailor, and he will
row us out to that lovely Pine Island. It’s just an enchanting place for
a picnic-lunch, and there are such pretty things to sketch.”
The two girls were delighted with this plan, and they little dreamed of
the exciting adventures they were to have before they returned.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PINE ISLAND
Half an hour later the merry trio wended their way again toward the
lake. Eva and Adele were carrying a well-laden basket between them,
while Madge carried the box of sketching materials. As they neared the
boat-house, they beheld Everett, neatly clad in a dry suit of white
flannels. By the side of the dock was moored a wide, comfortable-looking
boat.
The youth saluted them as they neared the lake, and then sprang to take
the basket from the girls. This he stowed in the stern as he exclaimed,
“Oh, sister of mine, I do hope that yon wicker receptacle contains about
one hundred pies and two hundred doughnuts, a dozen boiled lobsters,
and—”
“You may be sure that it doesn’t,” his sister interrupted, “but, to tell
you the truth, I am as ignorant of its contents as you are. Ching Ling,
the kindly Chinese gentleman who presides over the kitchen at the inn,
filled it for me, and as yet I haven’t peeped under the cover.”
“Oh-h!” groaned Everett in pretended dismay. “What if Chingaling gave us
fried-mouse sandwiches and—”
“Everett Peterson! We’ll leave you behind if you make any more such
terrible suggestions,” Madge threatened.
“Well, that’s what Chinese children eat in their native land, isn’t it?”
laughed Everett. “And as for leaving me behind, I’m pretty sure that you
won’t do that, as I do not believe that any of you know how to row.”
“I do, a little,” Eva replied, as Everett unfastened the boat. A few
strong, swift strokes sent the craft dancing out on the sunny blue lake.
Eva, with shining eyes, looked happily about her. Madge and Adele
visited, while Everett, with long strokes, sent the little craft over
the sparkling water, and soon the keel grated on the sandy beach of the
prettiest island imaginable. It seemed dense with pine trees where they
had landed, but at the other end they beheld a rocky point. They had
entered a quiet little cove, and, with Everett’s assistance, the girls
were soon climbing over the bow and then the boat was drawn high on the
sand.
“Oh! Oh!” Eva exclaimed to Adele, as she caught her friend’s hand.
“Isn’t this the prettiest place! Adele, pinch me, will you, and see if I
am really myself. It doesn’t seem possible that only yesterday I was an
Orphans’ Home girl. To-day I feel like—like Cleopatra, or somebody rich
and luxurious.”
“Please don’t feel like Cleopatra,” laughed Madge, who had heard the
last part of the sentence. “I’d much rather go a-picnicking with Dryad
Fern than with that historical lady, if it’s all the same to you. Come
now, let’s select our banquet-hall, for my small brother declares that
he will turn cannibal and eat us if we do not soon spread the viands.”
“Look! There’s the prettiest place under those two pines that seem to be
twins,” Adele exclaimed.
“True enough!” said Madge. “And the ground is covered with dry
pine-needles.” Then, turning to her brother, she gayly called, “My good
Man Friday, bring the basket and follow us.”
Everett didn’t much care what he was called, as long as he was being
called to a feast, and so with several long strides he reached the place
ahead of the girls.
“Yum! Yum!” he said as he placed the basket on the ground. “Please do
hurry and give me some.”
“Isn’t it fun not to know what is in the basket!” Adele exclaimed, as
Madge knelt down and took off the red table-cloth which covered the top.
“A bit of color to enliven the scenery,” Everett said, as he helped Eva
spread the cloth on the ground.
“Now,” Madge exclaimed mysteriously, “within our basket are four square
boxes, one apiece. I’ll give you the biggest one, Everett, even if it
isn’t manners.”
“Thanks for your generosity,” Everett exclaimed. “I shall eat every
crumb which this box contains.”
“Perhaps it’s something which doesn’t crumble,” Adele suggested.
Everett lifted the cover just a crack and peeped under.
“Ha!” he exclaimed mysteriously. “My fondest hopes are realized. To
think that I may have the contents of this box all for myself.”
“Oh, Everett, you are so provoking!” Madge cried. “Do let us see what is
in it.”
“Very well,” Everett replied. “You may have a look and a sniff if you
like, but nary a bite, for there’s just enough here for me.”
The curious girls peered into the box which Everett held out, and Madge
joyously exclaimed, “Oh, wasn’t Ching Ling just a dear. He has given us
four fried chickens,—one apiece. Here are some wooden plates. Everett,
you may have the biggest bird, for I do suppose that you are the
hungriest, having been for a sail and an unexpected swim this morning.
Now, Adele, here’s a box for you, and one for Eva.”
“Lettuce sandwiches!” Adele announced when she had removed the cover.
“Olives and pickles!” Eva said gleefully when she peered in her box.
“Olives!” sang out Adele. “I just adore them.”
“Woe is me!” moaned Everett. “How I wish that I had been born an olive!”
“Everett, do behave yourself and bring us a bucket of fresh water,”
Madge commanded.
Soon the feast was spread and the tin cups filled with sparkling water,
and Everett’s nonsense was stilled only because he was so busy gnawing
at the chicken.
When nothing was left but crumbs and bones, Everett exclaimed
tragically, “Sister, can it be that Chingaling forgot the dessert?”
“Why, there must be dessert of some kind, somewhere,” Madge said as she
looked about. “Oho!” she added brightly. “Here is the fourth box. I
forgot to open it.”
“Do not keep me in suspense,” Everett cried. “Is it, can it be, the one
hundred oozy pies?”
“No,” Madge replied, as she took from the box a chocolate cake with
thick frosting.
“Ah, well,” said Everett resignedly. “Deeply as I regret the loss of the
one hundred pies, I will condescend to accept a piece of chocolate cake.
I did not say a crumb,” he added, as Madge handed him a slice.
At length the merry meal was over, and the things cleared away. Then
Madge exclaimed, “Now, Everett, you and Adele may explore the island if
you wish, for Eva and I are going to sketch.”
“Come, fair maid!” Everett exclaimed. “We’ll pretend this is a South Sea
Island and that we are about to have an exciting adventure.”
That they truly were to have an exciting adventure, they little dreamed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
AN EXCITING ADVENTURE
“On this little island are pine-trees green.
A nicer little island, I’m sure was never seen,
With a hi-hi-hi, and a ho-ho-ho!
There may be cannibals lurking about;
There are some snakes in the rocks, no doubt;
But if there are, we will scare them out,
We merry explorers, ho!”
Everett shouted, as he and Adele started to explore the pretty Pine
Island.
“The snakes are more apt to scare us out,” Adele said laughingly, when
the lad paused for breath.
Meanwhile Madge selected a spot with a view of the rocky point. One
little pine-tree, bent by the wind, stood on the top. Eva, who had
longed to learn to draw and paint, and who had covered many a page with
imaginary pictures of fairies and elves, was eagerly waiting for her
first lesson. Madge gave her a drawing-board on which a piece of paper
was fastened with thumb-tacks, and then she said, “Now, Dryad Fern, you
lean back against this stump and sketch for me that pine-tree on the top
of yonder rocks.”
Then Madge made herself comfortable a short distance away and continued
to work on a sketch which she had started the day before.
Adele and Everett, exploring the island, were nearing the upper end,
where the ground was rougher and the underbrush more dense.
Thinking to take a short cut to the rocky point, they found themselves
deep in a briery tangle of bushes.
“I hope you won’t think that I’m overly scary,” Adele said, as she stood
still, “but I don’t like to walk where I can’t see the ground, for I
might step on a snake.”
“Not pleasant to contemplate,” Everett agreed. “But if you will follow
close after me, I’ll step on him first, and—”
“Hark!” Adele whispered. “I heard a noise in those bushes just ahead of
us.”
“So did I,” said Everett softly. “And, what is more, I saw a
strange-looking creature that was trying to slink away. It walked like a
man and yet looked like a bear. I am certainly puzzled to know what it
can mean, for I am sure that no one lives on this island. If you will
stand still here, I will peer over those rocks and see if the creature
is there.”
Adele, though usually fearless, could feel her heart beating as she
stood waiting, while Everett crept, oh, so still, toward the point of
rocks. Suddenly he heard a digging noise which came from behind a
bowlder. Stealing toward it, he cautiously peered over and beheld a
sight which made even his brave heart beat quicker. A long-haired man,
who was dressed in a bear’s skin, was digging in the ground among the
rocks with feverish haste.
Suddenly he leaped up into the air, giving animal-like cries of joy.
Then out of the hole which he had dug he lifted an iron box, which
Everett could see was full of something which glittered.
“I must get the girls away from here at once,” Everett thought, as he
stole back to Adele. To her he said hurriedly, “The man is evidently a
miser who lives in this wild end of the island.”
Then, as they turned to go back to the place where they had left the
others, he added, “Do you know there is something very strange about
this? Camping parties are continually coming to Pine Island, and if
there were a wild man living here, he would surely be seen by others and
the fact become known.”
“That is true,” said Adele. “Then what do you think it may be?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Everett replied; “but having a little of the
Sherlock Holmes instinct, I don’t believe that it is just what it
seems.”
“Hark!” Adele cried, clutching Everett’s arm. “What was that?”
“It was the report of a gun, and there is another and another! Adele,
this is certainly mysterious,” Everett said. “I am going to ferret it
out. Will you go back to the girls?”
“I would like to go with you,” Adele replied.
“Then come,” the boy said. “We will creep along the shore and approach
the point of rocks from this side.”
The firing had ceased, and there was no noise save the murmuring of the
wind in the pines.
Everett led the way up the rocks and Adele followed. Suddenly, as they
rounded a huge bowlder, Everett stopped and pointed ahead of them.
“Look! There is a cave!” he whispered. “This is evidently where the wild
man lives.”
But Adele’s gaze was fastened to the point of rocks beyond. Suddenly she
burst into a merry peal of laughter.
Everett was indeed puzzled. “Adele,” he exclaimed, “why do you laugh?”
“Do you see the flag which is flying on yonder rocks?” she asked.
“Whew!” Everett whistled. “Why, that’s a black flag with a skull and
crossbones. Surely the days of pirates are long since passed.”
“You are wrong there,” Adele replied, no longer afraid, but desiring
further to mystify the city lad. “Follow me and I will show you the
pirates.”
The girl now took the lead, and over the rocks she clambered. Down on
the other side was a sheltered cove. Adele peered over and then silently
she beckoned Everett to come closer.
The lad’s alarm was changed to amusement when he saw, on the shore
below, six boys dressed as pirates, with bright handkerchiefs about
their heads. One or two of them had earrings hanging from their ears,
and each one had a belt containing a knife and a cutlass and a pistol.
They were sitting in a circle around a camp-fire, and the two silent
listeners could hear clearly every word that was spoken.
One pirate was talking excitedly. “Shiver my timbers!” he said. “At last
we have found what we came for. You remember Ben Gunn, who was left on
this deserted island three years ago? Well, this minute I sighted the
old sea-dog, hairy and almost bent double, but, dash my buttons, men, if
he hasn’t found that treasure that we’ve sailed the seas to get.”
Then up rose Pirate the Terrible, and in a roaring voice he issued an
order: “Capture the black-hearted scoundrel at once and bring him to me.
I’ll cut him limb from limb and show him no mercy unless he hands over
the treasure.”
Then, waving their knives in the air, the five other pirates leaped
around the rocks, returning a moment later with the wild man securely
tied with ropes.
“Yo-ho!” roared Pirate the Terrible. “So you are Ben Gunn. Three years
you have lived alone on Treasure Island. What did you live on, you
black-hearted scoundrel?”
“Goat meat and such,” Ben Gunn replied, looking about wildly.
“And what have you been doing?” roared Pirate the Terrible.
“Digging for the buried treasure, and, dash my buttons, I have found it,
and we’ll all share equal if you’ll take me away with you on your ship,”
the wild man cried eagerly.
“Old Sea-Dog,” Pirate the Terrible replied, “you have saved us many
days’ digging, and so we’ll share equal and take you off on the good
ship _Hispaniola_.”
Then, to the amusement of the onlookers, the pirates and the wild man
began to caper about the fire and sing:
“Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest.
Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!”
Adele had risen and was stealing away. Everett followed her, glad indeed
that their scary adventure had ended in so harmless a manner.
“Do you know those boys who were playing pirates?” he asked, when they
were again on the shore and well out of hearing.
“I do, indeed,” Adele laughingly replied. “I have the honor of being the
sister of Pirate the Terrible, but just at first I was certainly
scared.”
As they talked, they approached the spot where they had left the others.
“More mystery!” Everett cried. “The girls are not here and the boat is
gone.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MORE MYSTERY
While Adele and Everett had been exploring the island, Madge Peterson
and Eva had been comfortably seated under the pine-trees, sketching the
point of rocks. At first Eva had felt shy and embarrassed, but when she
found that Madge was not watching her, she lost her self-consciousness
and began to draw, and when the sketch was finished she laughingly
exclaimed, “I really ought not to show it to you. I’m afraid I never
shall make an artist.”
“Indeed you will,” Madge replied brightly. “You have natural talent, and
now I have a beautiful plan to suggest. Have you a guardian or any one
especially interested in you?”
Eva shook her head sadly. “No one,” she replied simply.
“Then the matron of the Orphanage is the one whom I must ask if I wish
to obtain permission for you to do something, is she not?” Madge
questioned.
“Yes, Mrs. Friend is the only mother I have, but she is truly kind.
Every one is kind. Adele has been just like a sister, and now you—”
“I hope that you will let me be your friend,” Madge Peterson said. “I
sincerely believe that you have a talent for drawing which ought to be
cultivated, and if Mrs. Friend is willing I would like you to come to
the city every Saturday morning and attend the Art Institute.”
“Miss Peterson!” Eva cried, with glowing eyes. “How wonderful, wonderful
that would be!”
“We’ll have beautiful times,” Madge exclaimed, “and I feel sure that
Adele has a talent which she, too, would like to cultivate, and you
could come together.”
“Adele writes verses,” Eva exclaimed joyously. “She can even make up
rhymes while she is talking, and—”
“Beg pardon, miss,” a strange voice interrupted. “Would you loan me your
boat for half a minute? Mine broke loose and is drifting out into the
lake. I’d be back with both of them in no time, and be ever so much
obliged.”