A HUNTING PARTY
The day following the arrival of the guests was spent in resting and
seeing the ranch. Katy and Gertie had never been on a large farm before,
and the thousand acres of field and prairie and woodland, seemed as
marvellous as the tales they had read of the big English estates. Alice
and Dick were also fascinated by all this space and freedom, but they
saw deeper than the little girls.
"It's a wonderful place," said Dick, "and I don't wonder the Doctor is
proud of it. But he is too well along in years to handle such a big
undertaking. I doubt if the ranch pays for ten years to come, and it
means hard work and a lonely life for all of them. It's all right for
Frank and Marian, but I'm sorry for the rest of the family."
"Mrs. Morton is growing old fast with all this unaccustomed drudgery,
and she is worried about the children's education, I can see," replied
Alice.
"Yes, there are two sides to it. I guess we'll stick to the law and
little old Centerville; we may not die rich, but we'll be a lot more
comfortable as we go along."
Sherm took to the farm like the proverbial duck to the pond. He donned
overalls that first morning and was off with Frank and Ernest to the
fields before the little girls were out of bed. After breakfast Jane
took Katie and Gertie to see the sights of the ranch. First to the
spring under the old oak where the cold, clear water gushed from the
rocks into a little basin, and then tumbled down a rocky channel under
the springhouse and on for some hundred of yards farther before it
widened out into the pond.
"We can go swimming in the pond but there is a nicer place in the creek
above the ford."
"Oh, I'd love to learn to swim but we haven't any bathing suits."
"Pooh, that doesn't matter, we just take some old dresses--there isn't
anybody to see you, especially down at the creek. You know it's private
ground and the trees hang over the pool all around so the sun only comes
in a little bit. We'll get Marian to go with us."
"I should think you could skate, too."
"We do. I had a great time once last winter--Father told me the ice was
too thin, but I saw a yearling calf go over all right and I thought the
ice would bear me. But I guess calfie had more sense about the weak
places. At any rate, I went through, near the middle. The water was up
to my shoulders. Gee, it was cold and the ice kept breaking when I tried
to climb out--and the men were all away. I most froze before I got to
the bank, and then my skate straps were so wet I couldn't loosen them,
besides my fingers were too numb to bend. I had to walk on the skates
all the way to the house. My teeth chattered till they almost played
tunes by the time I got to the door." Chicken Little shivered at the
recollection.
"What's the cunning little stone house for?" Gertie's attention was
caught by a tiny hut without windows on the edge of the pond.
"Oh, that's the smokehouse. We're so far from town that we put away a
lot of meat every winter. The hams and sides of bacon are smoked there."
"And that wooden building over yonder?"
"The granary--for the wheat and rye. Those open log houses are the corn
cribs."
"My, it takes a lot of buildings to make a ranch." Katy was impressed in
spite of herself.
"We haven't been to the barns and corrals yet. I love the hay mow."
Chicken Little had not forgotten lumps of sugar for Calico and Caliph.
Ernest had given his pony a high-sounding name. The intelligent beast
was proud and dainty enough to deserve it. He was shy about coming for
his lump, but when he once got the taste, he nosed around Chicken Little
for more.
They ended the morning's wanderings in Jane's own particular bower,
known to the family as the Weeping Willows because she had once retired
there to cry out her troubles, and had been discovered in a very moist
state by Frank, who was a merciless tease.
There were two rows of the old willows. They formed a long leafy room on
the edge of one of the orchards, out of sight both of the house and
road. Chicken Little had been known to flee thither on more than one
occasion when she did not wish to be disturbed in the thrilling place in
a novel. For you really couldn't hear any one calling from the house in
this leafy fastness. Ernest had made her two or three rustic seats, and
a little cupboard where she could keep her treasures sheltered from the
sun and rain.
Katy and Gertie were charmed with this retreat.
"If there was only a table, I could write all my letters home out here.
Wouldn't it be romantic?" Katy loved the unusual.
"It's lovely, Jane, let's stay out here lots." Gertie settled down on
one of the seats with a little sigh. "I wish I had my old doll here; it
would make such a dandy playhouse."
"Gertie Halford, the idea of a great, big girl like you wanting to play
with dolls."
"I get Victoria out sometimes and dress her up," confessed Jane. "It
isn't much fun all alone, but I like to see her sometimes. If you'd like
to, Gertie, we'll have a doll sewing bee this afternoon and you can be
Victoria's mother and Katie and I will be dressmaker's though I never
could sew decently. Mother's about given me up in despair."
Chicken Little had noticed a little far-away look in Gertie's eyes ever
since she came. Marian had warned her the night before that she had
better keep Gertie pretty busy for a day or two, or she would be
homesick.
Unfortunately, Chicken Little's kindness precipitated the catastrophe
she was trying to avoid. She was so motherly she reminded Gertie afresh
of the dear little mother she had left so many miles behind and the
tears came in spite of her.
Chicken Little coaxed and comforted, and Katy coaxed and scolded,
but Gertie's tears were apparently turned on for keeps and the
Weeping Willows was earning its name again. Gertie cried till she
got all shivery, declaring solemnly whenever she could command
her voice sufficiently to talk, that there wasn't a thing the
matter--only--only--she--was a little bit homesick.
She wouldn't hear to Jane's going to fetch Alice or Mrs. Morton or
Marian. "She'd be all right in a minute, if they'd just let her alone."
But the minutes went by and she still cried, and in spite of the warm
June sunshine, her hands felt cold and her shoulders shook as if with an
ague. Chicken Little and Katy were both getting worried when help came
in the shape of Marian and Jilly.
Marian understood at a glance, and dropping to the ground beside her,
drew her into her lap and chafed the cold hands while she bade Jilly hug
poor Gertie. Jilly was a born comforter and she half smothered the
patient with her energetic hugs and moist, warm kisses.
"Too bad, too bad--ants bite Gertie, too bad! Jilly fine 'em."
Jilly had not forgotten her own sad experience with the ants and not
seeing any visible cause for Gertie's woes, evidently thought they were
the guilty ones again.
Jilly was irresistible. Gertie had to laugh, even if the tears running
down her face, did leave a salty taste in her mouth. She hugged the
small comforter. Jilly, however, was not to be turned from her hunt. She
insisted upon pulling down Gertie's stockings and making a minute search
for the culprits. Her little tickling fingers and earnest air completed
Gertie's cure, and Jilly adopted her as her own particular property from
that day on, seeming to consider her in need of protection.
Marian declared they must all come and have dinner with her. Ernest and
Sherm were already there and they had a merry meal in the little
cottage, for Marian made them all help--even the big boys. She tied a
blue apron around Sherm and set him to stirring gravy while Ernest
watched four cherry pies almost ready to come out of the oven. She had
despatched Katy and Jane to the springhouse after milk and butter.
Gertie, assisted by Jilly, set the table.
Sherm had burned a nice fiery red during his morning's plowing. He was
immensely proud of his efforts.
"I tell you Sherm's some farmer for a tenderfoot," said Ernest, telling
about the number of corn rows he had done.
"Better come stay with us, Sherm."
"Haven't I come--I love the ranch. But I suppose I've got four years of
college ahead of me."
"You'll have time enough after that, Sherm," said Frank, "but if you
should want to try ranching, you'd better come out this way."
"No ranching for me." Ernest thumped the table with his fork
emphatically. "You can have my berth, Sherm, and welcome. The only thing
I care for here, is the hunting. By the way, Frank, are you and Marian
going hunting with us?"
"I'd like to. What do you say, Marian?"
"Why, if there's room for so many."
"I wish we could ask Captain Clarke," Chicken Little spoke up.
"My, you are daffy about the Captain, Jane. He wouldn't go--you couldn't
hire him to if he knew Alice and I were to be of the party. Queer he is
so charming with Jane, and with the men and boys, and so very reserved
and stiff with women."
"He probably has some reason for disliking your sex. Perhaps, if we'd
let him go with the children and the boys, he might be persuaded to
come. He'd only see you at luncheon time. What's the matter, Katie?"
"I'm not a child," said Katy with dignity.
"All right, you may come with us grown-ups and let the Captain have the
children and the boys."
"You'd better find out whether the Captain is willing before you plan so
definitely, Frank."
"We'll send Chicken Little and Sherm over on the ponies as a special
deputation to invite him. You must coax your prettiest, Sis."
"I'd love to. I just know I can get him to come. Will you go with me,
Sherm?"
"Nothing I'd like better," responded Sherm heartily.
The next few days fairly twinkled by. The girls roamed the woods and the
fields with Dick and Alice, and went in bathing, and fed chickens, and
even made little pats of butter down in the cool springhouse. Gertie
mourned because she could not send hers home straightway to Mother.
Chicken Little and Sherm waited until Sunday to go over to the
Captain's.
Sherm found Caliph and the Mexican saddle rather more to his taste than
Chicken Little's outfit had been on the ride from town. He had about all
he could do for the first five minutes to manage Caliph for he had had
little opportunity for riding at home. But he had a cool head, and with
a few suggestions from Jane, he soon convinced Caliph that he had a new
master as determined as Ernest, if not quite so skilful a horseman. They
did not talk much. Sherm considered Jane a little girl and Jane stood
rather in awe of Sherm. But they enjoyed the brisk ride none the less.
The swift motion with the wind in their faces, the wide stretches of
prairie bounded on the distant horizon by a faint line of timber, were
novel and delightful to Sherm. To Jane, they were familiar and dearly
loved. Besides, she liked having Sherm with her.
He glanced at her from time to time. Chicken Little glanced back with
sweet, friendly eyes. It was she who finally broke the ice.
"I do hope the Captain will go. I'm most sure he'll like you, because
his little boy looked a lot like you. He showed me the picture."
"He seems to like you all right from what they say."
Chicken Little laughed merrily.
Sherm couldn't quite see the connection.
"Well, what's so funny about that?"
"Will you cross your heart never to tell, Sherm? Frank and Ernest would
tease the life out of me if they knew."
"Cut my heart out and eat it, if I ever breathe a word."
Chicken Little related the swearing episode which she had not seen fit
to trouble even Marian with, at home. "I guess," she concluded, "he felt
sort of sorry for me right at the start and that made him like me."
"'Twouldn't be such a hard job as you seem to think, Jane," Sherm
surprised himself by saying.
Chicken Little flushed and looked up hastily at Sherm who also felt his
face getting warm to his great disgust. Sherm hated softies of any kind.
"Oh, I believe there's the Captain now over by the pasture fence."
Captain Clarke was riding round the pastures inspecting the barbed wire
fencing. He soon hailed them.
"Hello, Little Neighbor, is the piebald behaving himself?"
Jane introduced Sherm as soon as they came abreast.
"Captain Clarke, this is Ernest's friend, the Sherman Dart I told you
about."
Captain Clarke scanned the boy's face curiously. His own went a little
white after an instant's inspection.
"You are right--he is marvellously like what my boy might be to-day. I
beg your pardon for my rude scrutiny. Possibly Jane has told you of the
resemblance. You will come up to the house and let Wing give you some
lemonade. It is hot this afternoon."
Chicken Little declined to take him from his course and told him their
errand. He hesitated. "You say Mr. and Mrs. Harding and your brother and
his wife are going. Would you think me very rude and unappreciative if I
declined, dear? I am poor company for anyone these days and----"
Chicken Little looked so disappointed that he paused ruefully.
"Please, just this once, Katie and Gertie want to see you dreadfully and
you could go with us. Pretty please."
She thought she saw signs of weakening. Sherm also noticed the Captain's
hesitation.
"We've all sort of set our hearts on having you, Sir. Chicken Little and
Ernest have talked so much about you we feel acquainted, and Dr. Morton
says you're a dead shot. I've never hunted anything but squirrels
myself."
Captain Clarke stared at Sherm as if in a dream for a minute. The boy
was embarrassed by his silence and smiled his little crooked smile to
cover it. Their host passed his hand over his eyes and sighed. Then he
smiled.
"It's no disgrace to surrender to a superior force. I am yours to
command. But I stipulate that you two stand by me."
Chicken Little gave a bounce in her saddle to emphasize her delight and
Calico took this as a hint to go on.
"Whoa, Calico! Thank you--bushels! Oh, I just know we'll have the best
time! Would you mind if we children all went with you because nobody's
going to be willing to be left out?"
"I can take five nicely and have plenty of room for guns and lunch
baskets besides. By the way, please tell your mother that Wing Fan will
never forgive me if he is not permitted to get up the lunch for all the
young people at the very least."
"Have you a gun with you?" he asked Sherm as they were going.
"No, but Ernest said I might take his."
"I have a new shotgun. I should be glad if you would share it with me."
They found Alice and Dick, Marian, Katie, Gertie and Jilly, not to
mention Huz and Buz, waiting for them on the Morton side of the ford.
"What luck?"
Sherm didn't give Jane a chance to reply.
"Oh, Chicken Little just put on her company smile and the Captain held
out his hands and said: 'Handcuffs, please.'" He was meeker than Buz.
"Sherman Dart, you old--" Chicken Little flicked Caliph lightly by way
of revenge, and Sherm had his hands full for several seconds, for Caliph
resented the indignity.
It was arranged to start early the following Saturday morning. Mrs.
Morton and Annie were up soon after daylight busy with the mysteries of
fried chicken and fresh rolls. The men of the party were equally busy
cleaning guns and routing out all sorts of hunting toggery. The girls
tried to help everybody impartially, succeeding for the most part in
making a general nuisance of themselves.
At exactly seven-thirty Captain Clarke drove up with a wonderful team of
blacks. His hunting jacket was belted in with a formidable looking
cartridge belt, two shotguns were slid in on the floor of the spring
wagon, and lunch baskets and a great earthenware jug of lemonade were
wedged in under the seats. He gave a shrill hunting halloo as he drew up
at the gate.
Mrs. Morton was a little disturbed at the gay looking team.
"Are you quite sure they are safe with the guns? You know young people
are often reckless and this is a very precious load."
"My dear madam, I think I can answer for Jim and Jerry. I took them out
for an hour yesterday and used the gun over their heads to make sure
they hadn't forgotten their manners."
The Captain met the strangers of the party in his usual courteous
reserved fashion, but his eyes lighted when Chicken Little ran down the
walk. He established Ernest and Katie and Gertie on the back seat and
swung Jane up in front to the driver's seat with Sherm on her left.
"Ernest, I'll handle the ribbons going, if it suits you, and you can
drive us back. I have an idea you will have the sharpest eye for game of
any of this crowd. We ought to do our best work the next two hours for
snipe. We probably won't find many prairie chickens until we get over on
Little John. By the way, boys, be careful not to disturb the mother
birds--there are still some on the nests. I really don't like to hunt
quite so early in the season as this, although a good many of the young
birds are shifting for themselves already--bird parents have a beautiful
faith in Providence. They don't worry long about their young."
A light shower had fallen the night before and the air was fresh and
fragrant with the smell of wet grasses and moist earth.
The rattle of wheels close behind assured them that Frank and his load
were near.
"Kansas certainly takes the cake for climate," Dick called to them,
happily reckless about corrupting the young folk with his slang. Alice
promptly reproached him.
"Mrs. Morton would send you home by the first train if she heard you."
Dick assumed an air of mock woe. "Oh, I say there, Chicken Little, don't
mention that little matter of the cake--that particular cake isn't
respectable, Alice says."
It was Frank who got the first shot.
"Here, Marian, take the lines quick. Hold them tight--they may jump when
I fire. Turn out of the road--to the right--slowly now. Stop!"
Frank drew the gun to his shoulder and took careful aim while the others
were still vainly trying to see something to shoot at. A snap, a flash,
and a bird whirred up a hundred paces away, flew a few feet from the
ground, and fell.
Frank ran to the spot and held up a good-sized plover. Marian and Alice
examined it pitifully.
"What a slender delicate thing it is! It seems a shame to kill it. I
like the excitement of hunting but I always want to cry over the
victims," said Alice with a sigh.
Sherm caught sight of a covey soon after. He and Ernest slipped out of
the wagon and stole up as close as possible. Ernest got two with the
scattering bird shot, but Sherm missed.
"You were too anxious, lad. Stop an instant always before you fire to
make sure your hand is steady," the Captain consoled him kindly.
Sherm profited by this advice and brought down his next bird. Captain
Clarke left the game to the boys until their first zest for the sport
was satisfied. Chicken Little frequently discovered the birds before
either of the boys, and was eager to have a turn herself, as was also
Katy. Gertie put her hands to her ears every time a gun was fired and
openly hoped they wouldn't find any more game to shoot at. Captain
Clarke advised the girls to wait a little, and watch the boys carefully
to see exactly how they aimed and rested their guns, and he would help
them both a little later. But Ernest soon undertook Katie's education
and was surprised to find he had a very apt pupil. Katy had as steady a
nerve and as true an eye as either of the boys. Ernest began to be
alarmed lest his pupil win his honors away from him.
"You must have shot before, Katy."
"I have with a revolver. Uncle Sim used to let me shoot at a target. And
he had an archery club last summer."
The Captain did his best for Chicken Little but she did not do nearly so
well as Katy, though she made one shot the Captain considered quite
extraordinary.
"It's a pretty long range for a novice, little neighbor, but you can try
it."
Two birds flew up where she had seen one. "Oh, dear, I missed," she
lamented.
"I'm not so sure," said Sherm. "Let's go see."
He helped her down and they made a brisk run toward the spot where the
grouse had risen. After a few minutes, Sherm stooped and picked up a
bird considerably to the right of where Chicken Little had aimed.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he exclaimed with a puzzled expression. "You
did get one."
He stood looking down thoughtfully at the ground. Chicken Little hurried
to him elated, but her joy was short-lived. Snuggled among the grasses
was an empty nest.
"Oh, do you 'spose she was on the nest? But I couldn't have seen her if
she had been--and it's empty."
By way of reply, Sherm stooped again and picked up a baby grouse from a
clump of weeds. Fear had frozen it into a motionless wee brown image.
"Oh, the poor little darling! I took its mother." Chicken Little looked
ready to cry.
Bending down Sherm parted the weeds and grasses cautiously.
"Here's another--and another. We must hunt them, Chicken Little, and
take them home or they will all starve. Gee, what can we put them in?"
Jane slipped her hat elastic from under her braid, and taking a handful
of long grass to line it with, soon made a snug nest. They tucked the
mottled downy bunches into it.
"What in Sam Hill are you people doing over there?" called Ernest.
"Little grouse--come help us find them," Sherm called back. "Be careful
now or you'll step on them," he warned as Ernest and the girls came
running up. "They are the slyest little codgers--you don't see them
until you are right on them."
Gertie was on her knees peering before the words were out of his mouth.
She lifted a fourth mite from its hiding place, and a fifth, and a
sixth, almost as fast as she could pick them up. "Oh, aren't they dear?
May I hold them, Jane, when we get back to the wagon?" Gertie was
caressing them with hands and eyes.
There were ten chicks cuddled in the hat, when after a thorough search
of the weeds, Ernest announced that they must surely have them all. But
to make sure they went over the ground in all directions once more.
Jane was very sober. Sherm tried to cheer her.
"You couldn't help it, Chicken Little. You didn't mean to." Sherm smiled
his funny smile as he said this.
"Why are you smiling? Oh, I know--I believe so, too."
"What secrets are you talking?" Katy was curious.
"Yes, speak United States, it isn't polite to leave your guests in the
dark this way," growled Ernest.
Jane haughtily declined to explain just then. When they returned to the
wagon, they found the Captain as much interested in the shot, as he was
in the prairie chicks.
"That was really a wonderful hit, little girl. I congratulate you."
Jane stole a glance at Sherm. He wasn't looking at her, but he was
smiling. Jane smiled, too.
"Yes, Captain Clarke," she replied demurely, "it was rather
astonishing."
This was too much for Sherm who chuckled openly. Captain Clarke looked
from one to the other inquiringly. The others were completely mystified.
"Well, I'd just like to know what you two are up to." Katy wrinkled her
nose in disgust.
"Can't a fellow laugh without having to give an account of himself?"
Sherm parried, still trying to stave off the mirth that possessed him.
Chicken Little's face was sweetly sober. "He's appreciating
my--skill--the rest of you don't seem to realize what a feat----" A
sound, something between a crow and a suppressed steam whistle
interrupted her. Sherm whooped until he was red in the face. Chicken
Little regarded him reproachfully, but continued: "You see most anybody
can hit the chicken they aim at, but it takes a fine shot to hit one you
didn't know was there." She grinned mischievously up at the Captain who
grinned back delightedly.
"Really, Chicken Little?"
"Really." She joined in the general laugh.
"What did you want to tell for?" Sherm had enjoyed having the joke to
himself.
She didn't answer then, but later she whispered: "Because the Captain--I
didn't want him praising me that way!"
Noon found them fifteen miles from home with a bag of six snipe and ten
prairie chickens, and appetites that fairly clamored. Frank found an
ideal camping place in a grove of walnut trees beside a small creek.
"I camped here once two years ago and there's a fine spring somewhere
near. Come along, Katie, we'll go hunt it. Ernest, picket the
horses--there's oats under the back seat. And Sherm, if you'll just
start a fire for the coffee."
Marian and Alice spread the luncheon out on a long tablecloth laid over
the dust robes on the ground. Gertie and Chicken Little fed the little
grouse with some moistened bread crumbs, finding it difficult at first
to induce them to eat. But they would swallow, when the girls pried open
their tiny beaks and stuck a crumb inside. Captain Clarke showed them
how, and patiently helped them until each tiny craw was at least partly
filled.
Marian and Alice watched him furtively.
"He is gentle as a woman," Alice whispered, "and his face lights up
wonderfully when he smiles, though it is stern usually."
"Yes, I can see now why Jane is so fascinated. Do you know his smile is
very much like Sherm's? See--no, just wait a minute. Now--watch his
upper lip--his mouth twists crooked exactly like Sherm's. Chicken Little
spoke of his baby's picture having the same smile." Marian dropped her
eyes hastily as the Captain chanced to turn in their direction.
"I imagine lots of people have that kind of a smile only we never
noticed them," replied Alice.
"Of course, I didn't mean to suggest anything. Will you cut the lemon
cake?"
After the luncheon was eaten, the shady grove tempted them to linger on
with its woodsy coolness. The younger folk dragging the Captain, a
willing victim, along with them, went off on an exploring expedition
while the others stretched out luxuriously on the coarse grass that grew
rank along the slope.
It was four o'clock before they could tear themselves away for the
homeward ride.
"You'd better hurry," Frank called to the stragglers, "it will be almost
dark before we get home even if we don't stop to shoot."
They picked up a few quail on the divide soon after they started, but
their zest for the sport seemed to have waned. Chicken Little declined
to try any further.
"I know, it's the baby grouse," said Katy.
"Yes," said Captain Clarke, "I think the baby grouse have rather taken
the zip out of it for all of us."
The moon was just peeping above the tree tops as they crossed the home
ford. A huge grotesque shadow of the horses and wagon with its load, was
reflected upon the silvered surface of a deep pool just beyond the
ripples where they had stopped to let the horses drink. The blacks
having satisfied their thirst, began to dash the water about with their
hoofs.
"They love it, don't they?" Katy watched them.
"Yes," said the Captain thoughtfully, "I guess every living thing enjoys
this beautiful world of ours--when it is given the chance."