MY MASTER LOSES GROUND
All the next day Big Chief was very languid and quiet. No boy could go
through such an experience as his of the night before and not feel
after-effects.
Keeping close to his father or mother, he talked little, but the
children all saw that something had happened to him, and eyed him
curiously.
During the afternoon when he offered to help Big Wig mend his top, the
child said in astonishment, "Big Chief, you ith nith to-day."
The big boy said nothing, but blushed furiously, and Cassowary, who was
sitting reading near-by, put down her book and stared at him with
narrowed eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but at that instant
Mrs. Devering and my young master come out of the house, their hands
full of pictures.
"Old daguerreotypes and photographs," said Mrs. Devering, "Dallas has
been helping me look over some treasures in the attic. Do you wish to
see these--they're interesting?" and she tumbled the contents of her
hands into Cassowary's lap.
The girl picked up the uppermost photograph, and Dallas looking over her
shoulder said, "I just howled when I saw that, Cousin--it looks like a
Big Chief of a hundred years ago."
"Who is it?" asked Cassowary shortly.
"Your father's grandfather," said Mrs. Devering. "He was a stocky sturdy
old man, wilful when a boy, but leading a fine life later on."
Big Chief eagerly examined the picture, then he gave Cassowary a strange
glance.
The girl had remarkable self-control--at times.
"Big Chief," she said coolly, "it's you, even to the droop in the left
eyelid."
"All the Deverings have that," said her mother quickly.
"But Big Chief doesn't show it as much outside the picture as in it,"
said Cassowary; "hold up your head, brother."
He did as she told him and she stared straight in his eyes. Then she
turned to Mrs. Devering. "Mother, I was horrid to Big Chief yesterday."
"I know all about it," said the lady softly, "the main thing is--are you
sorry?"
"I am," she said shortly.
"And I was rotten to Dallas," said Big Chief.
"And are you sorry?" asked Mrs. Devering.
"You bet I am," he replied feelingly.
"And you, Dallas, in this confession time," said Mrs. Devering, "have
you anything to repent of?"
My young master hung his head too. "I told a lie," he said, "and I'd
vowed solemnly that I'd never tell another."
"What kind of a lie?" asked his aunt.
"A dream lie--I was lying on the grass thinking of the awful mistake
I'd made when we were target shooting--I 'most blew a hen's head off,
you know----"
"Indeed!"
"And Champ came running along and asked if I'd seen Uncle, and I said
'No,' and I had. He had passed me a few minutes before and in my
dreaming I forgot it."
"But that is not serious," said Mrs. Devering.
"It might have been. It was just after that automobile accident in front
of the Talkers, and the man was bleeding and they wanted Uncle quick.
Suppose the man had died," and Dallas shuddered.
"My poor boy," said Mrs. Devering, "what are we going to do about you!"
Dallas smiled a queer little smile. "Aunt Bretta, I'm going to repeat
some lines I found in a book on the table," and he began,
"To a Naughty Boy,
Thou liest once, thou liest twice,
Thou liest ten times o'er.
Thou'st launched thy bark upon a sea
That has no farthest shore."
"I think Cassowary wrote those lines about me," he said turning to her.
"Did you?"
The girl was blushing. "I didn't intend you to see them, Cousin."
"They will do me good," he said, and folding them up he put them in his
pocket.
While they all sat there looking very solemn, Mr. Devering came
swinging down the hill, a small axe stuck in his belt.
"Where have you been, Jim?" asked his wife.
"Clearing the trail to Merry-Tongue Lake. It's a bit grown over since
last season. The Good Americans will soon be here. What's the matter
with you all?"
"Been confessing our faults," said Cassowary gloomily.
"And now for penance," said her father. "_En-route_ for the fire
warden's. Horseback or ponyback. He has some Hearne's salmon for our
supper, just come down from Hudson Bay by hydroplane."
"I can't go," said Mrs. Devering, "the Settlement Club meets here to
sew."
"Then will you lend your Beauty to Dallas?" said her husband. "He has
not been on horseback yet."
I got up from the lawn where I had been lying, and came toward the
veranda.
Big Chief caressed me. "Don't you be jealous, you kid pony," he said.
"No one can forget you. Come right up on the veranda. I'm going to give
you the freedom of the house. Here, Mother, let me take those pictures.
I'll carry them back to the attic for you. They have done their good
work," he added in a low voice as he passed her.
Then this nice boy took me right upstairs, past the company bedrooms and
into the attic.
"All that we have is yours, Prince," he said. "You rendered the House
of Devering a great service last night. I'll never forget it."
"Oh! the funny boy," and I curled my lip in amusement as I followed him
downstairs. One thing was sure, he was going to be a better boy from
this out.
My master was waiting for me, and took me with him to the stable, where
I watched him mounting with some fear the tall horse who seemed like a
giraffe compared with me.
Champ, Dovey and Sojer came racing down the hill and joined the merry
riding party. The children all took to the woods at intervals through
the day, making dashes up to Merry-Tongue River brawling over its
stones, or sauntering along the cool green depths of the trails, or
scrambling over the grassy pastures on the hillside after wild
raspberries or gooseberries, and always with some pet creatures at their
heels.
To-day it had been Drunkard going on three legs, Barklo scampering gaily
along, and Constancy hipping after him for she had vowed to do
everything her dog friend did.
They all began to follow the riding party and I trotted a little way
down the road after them until I met Big Chief cantering back on
Attaboy.
He passed me without speaking. His poor face was quite convulsed, and I
felt sure, and honored the lad for it, that he could not without emotion
pass the scene of his adventure last night. He was going back to help
his mother pass cakes and tea to the score of women who gathered every
week in the big living room to have a little social time together.
Well, he would get over his trouble and be more of a help to his parents
for it, and I thought happily about him as I trotted down the road to
see how some of the neighbourhood boys were getting on with their
baseball game. They were having a most exciting time, judging by their
yells, and I was just about to cross the road and go up to watch them
when I heard in a faint little voice, "Take care, brother."
I looked down and there was an old brownish backed toad all puffed out
with fright as he painfully dragged himself along in the grass by the
side of the road.
"What's the matter, brother?" I asked.
"You 'most stepped on me. I'm too tired to hop out of anybody's way."
"Why you're Hoppy Go-Slow, the children's pet," I said. "I know you by
that scar on your rough skin. What's happened to you?"
He settled back on his hind legs and sighed heavily. "I was kidnapped!"
I couldn't help laughing. This matter of kidnapping seemed to be in the
air of this place. But it was one thing to take away a handsome boy, and
another to carry off a warty old toad.
"It was no laughing matter for me," said Hoppy crossly. "Suppose you
lived in a snug hole away back of the big rocks in Mrs. Devering's
fernery--would you like to be snatched away and taken to live in an ugly
dirty place?"
"Indeed I wouldn't," I said. "I love a pretty home. I beg your pardon
for laughing. Do tell me your adventures."
"It was that lazy Joe Gentles that kidnapped me," he said; "by my warts!
I'd like to punish him."
"Joe Gentles--the guide who lives in that lonely house near the dam?" I
asked.
"Yes--what can you expect of a man that sticks his house away off from
the rest of the settlement? He could have had land up here. I think he
likes to be alone so he can loaf. Hardly anyone asks him to take them in
the bush now."
"How did a brainy old toad like you happen to let a man like Gentles get
ahead of you?"
"I came out of my snug home night before last for my supper. The best
worms are up back of the barn----"
I began to laugh again. "Oh! excuse me, Hoppy, but I saw you the other
evening with a long worm held in your jaws by the middle. It was curling
itself frantically about your head. Then it disappeared like a streak of
lightning. How can you swallow those crawly things?"
"They are very important things!" he said indignantly. "Worms are more
necessary even than ponies to this old earth of ours. I have to eat them
alive. I can't touch dead stuff. I try to kill them quickly, but
sometimes they protest like the one you saw."
"Well!" I said, "What about Joe?"
"He came sauntering up to the barn, but none of the men were there to
have a gossip. Then his eye fell on me and he popped me into his pocket,
saying, 'Neighbour Devering has enough life on his farm. You come home
and catch grubs in my garden.'"
"What a mean thing to do," I said.
"Wasn't I mad!" continued Hoppy. "I caused acrid stuff to come out of
the pores of my skin. I thought I'd make his pocket smelly."
"He wouldn't care," I said. "He's a dirty-looking fellow."
"He's the worst man in the settlement," said the toad, "and when he put
me in his neglected garden I only waited for his back to be turned to go
round to every creature on the place and tell them what I thought of
him. Then I hopped 'way up here and I'm most dead."
"I never thought about toads loving their homes," I said, "but why
shouldn't they?"
"My little home is so snug," he said feelingly. "When I go in every
winter and draw the soft earth after me, I feel like a king. Toads have
feelings as well as human beings. I'd just like to see that man's face
when all his livestock leaves him. Only the old grey mare refused to
come. She said, 'He's my master and though he's a bad one I can't run
away.'"
"What a pity he is not as kind as the Deverings," I said.
"The Deverings are fine," said Hoppy, "except that they don't pet us
toads quite enough."
"Hoppy," I said rebukingly, "I've seen the children tickling your back
with a grass blade many times, and you shut your eyes with pleasure."
"Mr. Devering never tickles me," he said complainingly.
"He's a busy man."
"I'd like to run a race with him at catching flies," he said. "I bet I
would beat him."
"I bet you would," I said.
"And he never told me," Hoppy went on, "that he knows we toads have the
homing instinct as strong as Mrs. Talker's pigeons have. Only our poor
old toes can't go as fast as their wings even though some of them are
half webbed."
"My young master knows about toads," I said: "I heard him telling little
Big Wig all about your habits the other day."
"Your young master is beloved by every toad and frog on this farm," said
Hoppy. "He never steps on us, he never chases us, he won't let any boy
kill us."
"He has sense, that boy has," I replied in a gratified voice.
"He has a good heart," said Hoppy, "which is the most important thing in
toad or man---- Good-bye, I'm going to bed," and he began to take his
few last imperfect leaps in the direction of the fernery, while I
feeling sleepy lay down and had a nap.
An hour later I ran on to the ball ground, and when I got near was
shocked to hear a sound of quarrelling in a near-by potato field.
This was terrible and I did not understand it for my young master and
Champ were usually the best of friends. Champ in his muddy blue overalls
was just tramping away calling back insulting remarks to his cousin over
his shoulder.
My heart died within me as I heard the word "Liar!" Had Dallas been
romancing again?
My young master was plunging about the sandy soil crushing potato tops
under his angry feet. He never wore overalls and the neck of his
coloured shirt was open, showing a chest quite nice and brown. His fists
were clenched, and he was ejaculating furious words. He rarely cried
now; he had toughened more in a few weeks than any boy I ever saw.
"It's all true," he shouted after Champ. "Don't I come from Boston? What
do you know anyway up here in this back of beyond place?"
"You Yankee liar!" Champ yelled at him, then he ran like a fox for my
infuriated young master was throwing clods of earth after him.
I guessed that the quarrel was Canada versus my own country and I
pressed close to my master. We would have to stand together.
He picked up his hoe and put it over his shoulder. Then he sprang on my
back and I trotted up the road.
Alas! Where were his dreams of keeping the two countries together?
"Prince Fetlar," he said as we jogged along, "I hate that Champ."
I playfully turned my head and made a nip at his muddy shoe.
"You're the best friend I have," he said affectionately. "You never
pitch into me--I'd like to kill Champ."
Then he gave a cry and leaped to the road. The unfortunate Champ was
sitting on the grass his face pale as death.
Their quarrel forgotten Dallas took him by the shoulder and shook him.
"Open your eyes! What's the matter?"
Champ murmured something about gooseberries and milk and quietly fainted
in his arms.
Was my young master happy? By no means. With his own face white he laid
Champ on the grass, ran to the lake for water, dashed it on his cousin's
forehead and was just about to give the farm call for help when Mr.
Devering came up the road on Patsie.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Oh! Uncle--our dear Champ has fainted," said Dallas most anxiously.
Mr. Devering jumped down and took his son's hand in his. Then he turned
to Dallas. "Did you notice how much dinner our dear Champ ate?"
"No, Uncle," said my master.
"Enough for two men," said Mr. Devering.
"And we've had wild gooseberries and cherries since," said Dallas, "and
some pie a man gave us."
"And hoed in the sun," said Mr. Devering. "Hello! he's waking up. Hey!
Champ, we'll put you on Prince Fetlar. You musn't walk after fainting.
Poor old tummy, does it feel unhappy?"
Champ smiled feebly and put out a hand to Dallas.
Then wasn't I glad to hear my noble young master say firmly, "I told him
a lie. I believe that upset him."
Mr. Devering shook his head. "Oh! you boys!" he said as he hoisted Champ
on my back. "There's nothing to equal you except girls."
"I've got to have a talk with you, Uncle," said my young master in great
agitation. "I vowed I wouldn't tell another story and I've told six in
three days. What are we going to do--what are we going to do?"
"Don't fret, lad," said Mr. Devering quietly. "I've got a sure cure this
time for you."
"Tell it to me, oh! please, Uncle, tell it to me," said the boy.
"Not now, Nephew. We must be alone. Come for a stroll after dinner
to-morrow. Ride Patsie to the stable, will you? I'm going to walk beside
Champ."