"It's too early for supper," Alec protested.
"You," Jed Simpson told his son, "have not been living on unsalted fish
for nearly two days. I suppose you brought harnesses for the mules?"
"Oh, sure. I didn't forget."
"Then the first thing we must do is plow a couple of furrows clear
around this homestead. Afterwards we'll plant a vegetable garden."
"I'll plow the furrows!" Alec said eagerly. "Just show me where you want
'em!"
While their father showed Alec the corners, Cindy started preparing a
meal. She couldn't fix any beans. They would have taken three hours,
which was easily two and a half hours too long, but she bent over the
skillet to sniff the aroma of frying bacon and lifted the top from the
kettle a dozen times just to watch the potatoes bubbling.
While Mr. Simpson showed Alec the boundaries of their homestead, Pete
unloaded both plows, unhitched the horses from the wagon and hitched
them to his plow, and started plowing.
"Don't go too far," Cindy advised. "Dinner will be ready soon."
"I'll be ready too," Pete promised. "But there's about a month's work to
be done, and it looks as though we'll have to do all of it this week."
Alec and Mr. Simpson came back, hitched the mules, and Alec started
plowing furrows. Cindy tried the potatoes with a fork, discovered that
they were soft clear through, and drained them. She added another small
handful of salt to that which she had put in when the potatoes started
cooking. Until she'd had to do without salt, she'd never known how much
she could miss it or how important it was. When everything was ready,
she called her father and Pete.
[Illustration: _When everything was ready, she called her father and
Pete_]
Letting his horses stand, Pete came trotting. Jed left his work on the
house and came too. Alec, who hadn't missed any meals and was far too
excited to eat anyhow, continued to plow. Cindy gave the men their
portions and took her own. Too anxious to get back to work to have time
for talking, the men ate hurriedly and silently. They took smaller
second portions and handed their plates back to Cindy.
"Here you are, cook," Pete grinned.
"Would you like some more?" Cindy asked.
"If I eat any more, I'll bust."
"Will you plan supper for after dark?" her father asked. "We shouldn't
waste any daylight. I want your mother and sister out here as soon as
possible."
"And I want my father and mother," Pete said. "I know they're anxious to
come, too."
"The important thing," said Mr. Simpson, "is to get the houses finished
and vegetable gardens in. We'll have all summer to build barns for our
stock and plow wheat land."
"We'll have to record our claims," Pete reminded him.
"That's true, but we can ride into Plains City and do that in a day."
Mr. Simpson's eyes rested on Alec. "I hate to see that boy doing a man's
work, but for a little while he must. There's so much to do and so few
to do it."
"I'll help," Cindy offered.
Her father shook his head. "I don't believe in girls or women doing
heavy field work, Cindy. You just see that our meals are ready."
Jed went back to work on the house. Pete continued plowing furrows
around his own homestead, and Cindy spent the remainder of the afternoon
cooking a big pot of beans. It was very nice to keep house for her
father, Pete, and Alec. But it was also very boring. Cindy was glad when
night fell and they came in from their work. After he'd eaten enough
biscuits and beans to stuff a small horse, and washed it down with cold
water, she looked hopefully at Alec. It would be fine to have a game,
any kind of game, but Alec had worked very hard and now he nodded very
sleepily. Cindy could not ask him to romp with her.
They slept in the wagon, which was much better and more comfortable than
just sleeping on the ground. But Mr. Simpson was up and had the
breakfast fire started before dawn. They had finished breakfast and were
ready to go back to work by the time it was light enough to see.
"Just a cold snack at noon, Cindy," her father said. "We mustn't stop
long enough for a hot meal."
"Yes, Daddy," said Cindy.
She washed the dishes and thought of the endless hours ahead. Mightily
she wished she had someone to play with, but the only other youngsters
around were boys like Alec who had to help their fathers, or children
like the Wentworths', and what almost grown-up girl wanted to play with
babies? The hardest work of all, Cindy found, was having nothing to do.
Finally a happy idea occurred to her, and she went to where her father
was working on the house. Mr. Simpson stopped his work.
"Would it be all right," Cindy asked, "if I fixed your lunches and left
them in the wagon?"
"What are you going to do?"
"I'd like to ride Sparkle to some places I haven't seen."
"Go right ahead, honey. I expect this must be pretty tiresome for you.
Just be careful."
"I will," Cindy promised, "and I'll be back in time to make supper."
She prepared a cold lunch, then saddled and bridled Sparkle and rode
toward a distant hill that rose to the west. Having done very little
except eat grass, Sparkle was anxious for action too, and he set off at
a fast canter. Everywhere were men who waved at Cindy as she passed,
but they were too busy to stop and talk.
Then, after about two hours, there were no more people. Nearing the
hill, the country became rough and broken. There were upthrust seams of
rock, boulders, stones, and instead of rich grass, only brush and small
trees. Nobody had staked this land, because it was too poor for good
farming.
Cindy liked it, and it was fun to be alone. She'd had a secret hope of
finding hostile Indians in Oklahoma and battling them, and she had been
more than a little disappointed when told there weren't any. But she
could imagine there were Indians here.
Reaching the top, Cindy found her path blocked by little evergreens
whose branches were so thickly intertwined that Sparkle couldn't get
through. It was dark beneath the trees, and mysterious, and far too
interesting to pass by.
Tying Sparkle to a tree, Cindy got down on her hands and knees and
crawled into the evergreens. A bunch of wild turkeys ran before her,
squirrels flicked their tails, and a woodpecker hammered noisily. Cindy
quivered with delight, for she had hoped to find just such a place.
Ten minutes after entering the evergreens, Cindy came to an arroyo, or
canyon. About thirty feet deep, its walls were solid rock. Though they
were steep, they were not too steep to descend or climb. The arroyo was
perhaps forty feet from rim to rim, and on the far side was a roomy cave
into which Cindy could see clearly. Water dripped into the cave, whose
walls must have formed a natural sounding board, for Cindy could hear
every drop as it fell.
She smiled happily. This was a marvelous discovery, and even though
there were no hostile Indians, she and Alec could have a fine game of
Indians in the cave. She must bring Alec here as soon as possible, but
of course, some of the work would have to be caught up first. Cindy rode
back to her father's homestead.
After several days, though the work was not done, it was quite far
along. The house, with a tiny bedroom for Cindy and Mindy, a cubbyhole
for Alec, a bedroom for their parents, and a large room that would serve
as both kitchen and living quarters, was finished. The stove was set up
and Mr. Simpson had even built shelves and cup-boards. Pete's house was
ready too.
Cindy had spent hours on her knees, planting corn, melons, onions,
everything that could be eaten and would grow. Alec and his father had
planted a sizable potato patch. For the first time, Pete, Alec, and Mr.
Simpson had quit work before darkness forced them to stop. Alec had
wandered away somewhere, but Pete and Mr. Simpson were waiting for their
supper.
[Illustration]
"We can go into Plains City and record tomorrow," Mr. Simpson said
happily. "The next day we can bring the other wagon and our folks up!
I'll certainly be glad to see them!"
"I will, too," Pete said.
"Can Alec and I go with you?" Cindy asked.
"Wouldn't have it any other way," her father said. He jumped suddenly.
"What the blazes is that?"
The hideous, wailing noise, when it arose, made the hair on the back of
Cindy's neck prickle. It was a mournful sound, as though a condemned
spirit had escaped and was wandering about to cry its torment. Pete's
and Mr. Simpson's hands went to their guns.
A moment later, dangling something on a string, Alec appeared in the oak
grove. When he swung the thing around his head, the noise sounded again.
"Alec!" his father gasped. "What the dickens!"
"Did I scare you?" Alec grinned.
"What in tarnation is that thing?" his father demanded.
"A bull-roarer," said Alec. "Gramps showed me how to make it."
He showed them an oak stick whose ends were whittled to thin blades
that slanted in different directions. When he whirled it around his
head, the thin blades made the unearthly noise.
"Shall I show you how it works?" Alec asked.
"Put your toy away," Cindy said loftily. "_We're_ going to Plains City
tomorrow."