“If I was you, I’d keep right along this road toward Annapolis Royal, and perhaps you’ll catch up with them. They don’t travel fast, and you could ask in every town if they’d been through. There’s no real cause for you to worry, friends, for the little chap will be well treated. The Indians like little folks.”
Jack looked at Desiré.
“It’s good advice, don’t you think?” she asked.
“Perhaps,” he replied doubtfully, turning the team around, and thanking the man for his help.
“Good luck to you,” he called, as they started off; and Priscilla, leaning out of the back of the wagon, waved a goodbye.
All day long they drove, almost in silence, stopping only for a hurried lunch. Toward evening, when the hills had turned to red purple, they drove across a quaint covered bridge—that is, one which has a roof and solid sides of wood, like a house—over a stream whose sparkling, merry water was as yellow as gold from the reflection of the setting sun.
“I’m awfully hungry,” sighed Priscilla.
“I was just going to propose that we stop under these oaks for supper,” said Desiré. “We can’t live without eating.”
CHAPTER XIII
INDIANS AND STRAWBERRIES
“Should you mind driving all night?” asked Jack, as they prepared to start on after the meal and a short rest.
“Not a bit, if you will take turns driving,” replied Desiré promptly. “Priscilla can stretch out on the blankets, and you and I alternate at the reins.”
“The Indians have such a start on us,” went on Jack. “You see in the first place they left earlier; and then we lost all the time of our search, and going to Bear River and back; and it’s important to catch up as soon as possible, lest they should leave the road somewhere and take a crosscut to the reservation.”
“Of course,” assented Desiré.
Darkness fell; the stars came out; and the full moon gave them light enough to follow the winding road. Several times during the night Desiré persuaded Jack to let her guide Dolly and Dapple while he rested and dozed in the corner of the seat.
On past dark farmhouses whose occupants were sound asleep; past somber, solemn woods, so beautiful in the daylight, but so dense, mysterious, almost terrifying at night; across murmuring black streams; up long hills which made the tired horses breathe heavily, and down the other side where one had to hold a tight rein to keep the faithful animals from stumbling. Occasionally a bat swooped low enough to make Desiré duck her head with fright, and once, while Jack was napping, she caught sight of a huge dark bulk near the edge of a woods; but it disappeared before the snorting horses could be urged onward.
At last the moonlight darkness faded to grey; then to a lighter grey; the sky was slashed with faint rose, growing rapidly deeper and mingling with gold streaks, until the sun climbed up to survey the land; and another day had come.
“Look, Jack!” cried Desiré, elbowing her sleeping brother.
“Where?” he asked, yawning.
“In that hollow!”
They were on the crest of a hill, from which they could look down into a nearby valley.
“Tents!” exclaimed the boy, now fully aroused.
“Indians!” shouted Priscilla, who, wakened by their voices, had crept up to look over their shoulders.
“Prissy! How you scared me!” cried her sister, jumping violently.
Jack took the reins, and, as fast as the team could travel, headed for the encampment. They reached their objective just as the Indians were beginning to break camp. Everything was in confusion; braves striding here and there; squaws shouldering the big bundles; children crying; dogs barking. Running back and forth from one group to another, they spied René.
Throwing the reins to Desiré, Jack jumped down and approached an Indian who seemed to be directing affairs. With some difficulty, he made the red man understand his story. Partly by signs, partly by broken English, the chief replied that “two suns ago they had found strange white child among them. Where belong, they not know. Going on to reservation. Then send back young brave who know English to find boy’s people.”
At that moment, René caught sight of his brother, ran across the grass, and threw himself into Jack’s arms, crying:
“I found Indians, Jack! I found Indians! Ain’t they fine?”
“Yes, I see you did, and they are fine,” replied the boy gravely, handing him over to Desiré, who had left the team and hurried toward them. “Put him in the wagon, and bring me all the candy we have.”
In a moment the girl was back again with several jars of candy. Jack distributed the gaily colored sticks to all the little Indian children, and tried to make the chief understand his gratitude for the care taken of René.
The tribe then struck out through the woods, away from the main road.
“How lucky that we caught up to them right here,” said Desiré, watching them, while René waved his hand and shouted goodbyes.
“You’re a bad, bad boy,” declared Priscilla, “to run away like that and frighten us all!”
René gave her a look which was a compound of disgust and astonishment.
“They were nice to me, and I had a good time. I bet you wish you’d been along. When you ran away, you didn’t go with nice Indians, but a smelly old cat who—”
“Never mind, children,” interrupted Jack, as he started the horses and they drove up a slight elevation to a juniper grove.
“We’ll stay here for a while to let the team rest, and incidentally get some ourselves,” he decreed, turning in the shade.
While he made Dolly and Dapple comfortable, Desiré had been trying to make René understand how much trouble he had caused. “You were very naughty,” she was saying, as Jack joined them.
“Yes,” agreed the older boy, “and he’ll have to be punished to make him remember it.”
Jack’s tone made Desiré give him an entreating look; but he pretended not to see.
“Come with me, René,” he said quietly, breaking a small switch from a nearby tree, and leading the child farther into the grove.
A short silence, then a little boy’s cries could be heard; another silence, during which Desiré worked madly at anything she could think of to keep her mind off of what was going on within the woods. Although she recognized the need of drastic punishment in this instance, yet she hated to have the baby hurt. After what seemed like hours, really not more than five or ten minutes, the brothers emerged from among the trees, hand in hand.
“I’m never, never going to run away again, Dissy,” promised the little boy, grasping her around the neck as she stooped to put her arms around him.
“Angry?”
