While I stood scraping and bowing, I heard Mrs. Duff telling her friend that there were not skilled maids in this family as there were in the Good American's, but every child was taught how to do every bit of household work accomplished on the place.
The princess' weary face became interested, and when a few minutes later I returned, stepping carefully along the veranda, for I was harnessed to a tea-waggon, she indulged in a really hearty peal of laughter.
"But this is charming," she ejaculated, clapping her slender hands together. "Altogether charming!" and she took off her gloves.
Dallas had heaped the waggon high with every dainty he could find in the pantry, and the princess, who had evidently had little lunch, ate olives and honey and bread and chicken sandwiches and wound up with hot buttered toast from a plate that Bingi brought in.
He had heard us in the kitchen and had run down from the green cottage where he spent all his spare time with his pretty Japanese wife.
The princess poured the tea and she and Mrs. Duff drank theirs with lemon and sugar and no cream.
Dallas, with a hand shaking with excitement, gave his mother her cup and bending over the hammock murmured, "Funny little mother with her foreign ways."
She gave him a long deep glance. Ah! these two would never part again, and my pony heart was glad and not a bit jealous. I saw that a boy to be all-round and not lop-sided must have a mother and father too.
When I was released from the tea-table and was having my own cake and bread and butter and jam out by the seringas the whole family came sweeping down from the Widow Detover's.
"Oh! what a joy to see a tea-pot," exclaimed Mrs. Devering, sinking down on the veranda edge. "I am done out—such excitement."
"Bretta!" said Mrs. Duff, rising up in her hammock, "this is my friend, Madame de Valkonski."
"Pardon, Madame," said Mrs. Devering, stepping up on the veranda, "I did not see you. It gives me great pleasure to welcome you to our home. Jim, here is the princess," she said over her shoulder.
Mr. Devering took off his cap and held it in his hand, and Madame de Valkonski, slipping from the tea-table, went to sit down in a low chair that Mr. Devering placed beside the hammock.
I was amused at the thirsty Mrs. Devering, who was having the nice big black teapot drawn from her clinging hand.
"Nephew!" she said reproachfully to Dallas.
"My Aunt!" he exclaimed in his old-fashioned way. "Tannic acid has formed by this time. I would not injure you. I am going to make fresh tea."
Mrs. Devering was very fond of a joke, and rolled her eyes mischievously at the two other women. Then they all laughed, but I saw Mrs. Duff's eyes follow the retreating figure of the lad holding the tea-pot in his hand. Not only did she love him most fervently but what a treasure he would be to a woman who evidently did not care to wait on herself.
"I don't see," remarked Mr. Devering with a very wise air and after he had bitten deep into a sandwich, "why boys and men should not help women with household tasks. Big Chief here can make excellent pancakes, but he is rather ashamed of it. Come here, lad, and make your bow to the princess."
Big Chief, with quite an air of composure, put his heels together and bowed low. Then he got rattled and ran after his pal Dallas.
The other children were then brought up on the veranda and introduced to this stranger, who looked at each one attentively and kindly but with a face like a white mask. When they had all settled down and had begun to eat bread and butter she took a macaroon from the table and walked toward me.
I was shocked at the terrible expression of her face. She held the cake out kindly. She did not know or care whether I got it. "Oh! my heart, my heart!" she murmured in an agonized voice. "They stood him against that wall—they shot him, my Paul, my beloved boy."
I did not find out till later what she meant. She had been caught by the Reds in Russia with her nephew Paul. All the rest of the family had escaped. She was spared because she was a propriétaire who had years before given away half her estate to her peasants, but they shot the boy in her sight and these children reminded her of him.
Oh! how glad I was when I found this out, that my young master and his cousins lived in a free and happy land where no one shot poor innocent children.
When the princess returned to her seat the others were talking of the further excitement up at Widow Detover's. It seemed that Joe Gentles was so overcome by her upbraiding that he fainted dead away at her feet.
Then the Widow was sorry and screamed for Mr. Devering. He found her overcome because she had made Joe faint and Joe was overcome because he had set her kitchen on fire.
The Widow was crying and finally she said that it was too bad to require Mr. Devering to look after all the lame ducks in the settlement. Joe might bring his wife and child to live with her lonely self and she would pay him wages.
Mr. and Mrs. Devering were much pleased with this arrangement and Madame de Valkonski listened attentively to this interesting backwoods story.
Mrs. Duff had fallen asleep, and seeing this Mrs. Devering came over to the merry group of children and said in a low voice, "Please take your tea and cakes out on the lawn. Your aunt and the princess have not our steady backwoods nerves."
I kept one ear pricked toward the boys and girls and the other toward the grown-ups. The latter were on the Bolshy subject and I heard Mrs. Devering begging Madame de Valkonski to stay all night so that she would see him at the chapel in the morning.
The children did not listen to this conversation. They began to dance on the lawn and finally danced themselves up to the stable and throwing themselves on their ponies had a good gallop down the lake which lasted till supper time.
Dallas did not go with them. He and I remained near his mother, who slept till the bugle sounded for supper.
"I wonder," said my boy in a low voice, "I wonder how poor Bolshy will take all this. I imagine that he will be flabbergasted at the sight of this little bit of Russia," and he glanced admiringly at his mother's friend.
CHAPTER XXX AN END AND A BEGINNING
Now that my boy has found his mother and we are going home, it seems as if I ought to bring my story to a close, though I hate to stop talking.
I will just let him give a few word pictures of our last week, for his mother, not being able to travel, spent several days in the hammock, the little Russian lady always by her side.
Both were very quiet and both smiled when Dallas, racing up and down the lake shore with his cousins in the high September winds, would spring off my back to come and give them the latest news.
The first day it was the arrival of the teacher and Dallas exclaimed, "Mother! we heard a gentle purring in the sky and the children said it was Miss Jazzamine arriving in her new silent plane."
"What do you call her?" asked Mrs. Duff.
"Her real name is Miss Jessamine Venn, but the children call her Miss Jazzamine because she is so lively. The plane dipped and dipped and then she came down in a parachute and she had funny harness on something like Fetlar's. The children almost ate her up and she told us she wasn't a bit afraid. There's nothing in heaven or earth to be afraid of, and she had on a big fur coat and she took it off and slapped her arms to get warm. Then she rode Fetlar to the school-house. She has rooms there, you know, and there are no desks, only tables and chairs, and back of the school-house is a fine little hospital where the government dentist stays when he comes to fill teeth. Miss Venn always has two girl scouts living with her and she teaches them housekeeping."
"Marie," said Mrs. Duff, "we shall get some suggestions here for our colony."
"And the teacher has a little square face," Dallas went on, "and eyes the colour of the steel in your bead bag, Mother, and Cassowary says she has lots of classes out-of-doors. I've been up History Trail where the big trees are kings and queens, and the tiny ones courtiers and common people. Sometimes she takes the children over to those four sandy islands in the lake that are called Europe, Asia, Africa and America, and they lay out countries and cities. Oh! I forgot to tell you the reason she came down in the parachute was because the plane was in a hurry to get to a fire down south. The pilot, who was "a scarlet rider of the sky," had chemicals to put the fire out."
"And what is a scarlet rider?" asked Madame de Valkonski, whereupon my master explained to her about the Dominion Mounted Police Force whose members ride about keeping order in this big Northland.
The next day Dallas told them about the school—how children came driving in from the north and the south in two big vans and met in a joyous crowd at the school-house door, many of them with musical instruments under their arms.
"I have heard of the music here," said Mrs. Duff.
"Uncle Jim and Miss Jazzamine make up a lot of it," said Dallas enthusiastically. "First you hear the noise of waggons creaking as settlers drive in, then the sound of axes biting into the trees. At last the house is built, and men, women and children cry for joy. Then there is a feast and dancing and Miss Jazzamine led a procession all round the school-room. It was great, Mother. Can't we have something like this in our home? The music is pretty loud, but there was a deaf man cured by it."
"Gladly, my child," said Mrs. Duff. "We are borrowing many plans from here."
"And they're going to have a concert to-night," said Dallas. "To-morrow night it will be a picnic supper."
"I like that," said Madame de Valkonski. "It keeps the families together."
"And now I must go," said Dallas. "Mr. Macdonald has a stable class at four, and at five Miss Jazzamine shows us how to judge corn."
"Does she never rest—this wonderful teacher?" asked Mrs. Duff.
"She is very strong," said Dallas. "She says when one has good food, good water, good air, and good times one does not need to be ill. Au revoir," and he kissed his mother and bowed to Madame de Valkonski, then hurried away.
The next afternoon he had a wonderful story to tell them about the turkey-farmer's baby who had run away from home and was found under Miss Jazzamine's bed, saying that she had come to the play-house where her brothers and sisters had such good fun.
"She was under there with the cat," said Dallas, "and a squirrel that Sideways had stolen from the woods, and she was lapping water out of Sideways' dish and Miss Jazzamine said to let her stay. She could go into Cassowary's kindergarten class."
How Mrs. Duff laughed at this, while her boy went on, "And the turkey-farmer said he was going to send down six of his best turks, for Miss Jazzamine had fitted his boy for the university and he had done nothing for her."
"May I ask what a turkey-farmer is?" inquired Madame de Valkonski.
"He has hundreds and hundreds of turkeys," said Dallas, "and they run on the barrens and eat grasshoppers, and the farmer's dogs keep the wolves away, and he's promised me a pup, and may I have it, Mother?"
The boy felt no shyness now when he was with his mother, and perhaps sometimes he asked too much of her; however she gladly consented to let him have the pup.
The day before we left he had a very tragic story to tell them and they had to question him to get the particulars.
Of course I knew all about it as I had been one of the principal actors, and my heart was heavy, too, as my master paced up to the veranda and perched on its edge.
His mother lifted her head from the hammock cushions and looked at him anxiously, then she asked, "What has all that shouting been about?"
"The children were singing," said Dallas.
"But what unhappy music," remarked Madame de Valkonski.
"Dallas," said Mrs. Duff, "are you ill?"
He sprang up and went to her. "Not at all, my Mother. I am sad, but I will tell you. The blue-eyed Bressay who is my Fetlar's friend was playing with us on the hillside when he got his foot in a hole and broke his leg. We managed to get him to his stall, and Mr. Talker said he would have to be shot. Big Wig took a stick to him, but one of the scouts pulled it away. Then Mr. Talker said as Uncle Jim and Aunt Bretta are away to-day we must do as he said."
"I hope you were not rebellious," said Mrs. Duff.
"Oh! no—the boys and girls were fine, and just then Miss Jazzamine came running to the stable and she spread out that red cloak of hers, Mother, just like nice hen wings. Big Wig was sobbing just dreadfully, then Miss Jazzamine said, 'I have an idea,' and what do you think it was?"
Mrs. Duff said she did not know and Dallas went on. "Uncle Jim had ordered a plane all fitted up to take Harry Talker to the hospital, and he couldn't go to-day, so Miss Venn put on her flying suit and Mr. Talker and Mr. Macdonald steadied Bressay in a light waggon and we all went down to the landing place where the men are building a hangar and airdrome."
"Ah!" said Mrs. Duff. "I have heard of that. It is for cross country aviators. Is it possible that you put a pony in an airplane?"
"Indeed we did," said Dallas, "and poor Bressay looked frightened to death, but Miss Jazzamine told him she knew a veterinary in Toronto who put wooden legs on ponies and he would come back and be the hero of the country side just like a soldier. Then Zip! Roar! the plane was off and we formed a procession home with Big Wig at the head of it on Fetlar, and we sang,
Mrs. Duff and her friend were convulsed with amusement, but they did not laugh until Dallas had run down to the wharf to meet his dear father, who had gone fishing and to please his boy had taken barbless hooks instead of barbed ones.
I stayed to watch Black Paws the raccoon, who was slyly hiding something behind the books in the living-room. When I found it was blueberry pie I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, but he paid no attention to me.
That was the afternoon before we left and as Dallas and his father came to the house Madame de Valkonski said to Mrs. Duff, "I shall go to the school-house this evening."
She did go, and fortunately, too, for when Mr. Macdonald flashed some pictures of Russia on the screen and Bolshy saw some soldiers beating an old woman he sprang to the platform. He was about to tear the screen to pieces when an order in Russian from Madame de Valkonski stopped him.
She stepped up beside him, asked questions, then said to the audience, "I pray you, my friends, pardon this poor man. That is his mother in the picture and the soldiers are his former companions who have turned into monsters. He says he is sorry to cause confusion for now he is against disorder. You may be pleased to know that I shall send for this poor mother to come and live in this tranquil place where you yet have so many pleasures."
The room rang with applause as the little lady stepped back to her seat beside Dallas and the now radiant Bolshy faced the audience and made his first speech in English.
"Mother!" he exclaimed, stretching out his long arms toward Russia, "Canada good!—Come!"
The house went wild, for Bolshy, who was working like a horse at helping Samp with farm work, was becoming a great favourite with the community.
After the pictures were over the people came pouring out of the school-room and my master paused outside the building to listen to the lovely sound of singing on the lake and the roads.
came from a group of people up by the Talkers' and canoes on the lake answered,
Then Dallas went quickly to the farm-home where his parents were packing.
Seeing his mother standing before his wardrobe trunk he went into a quiet ecstasy.
"A mother—to pack one's trunk—but it is too much. I will finish. What are all these packages?"
"Presents for my boy from the kindly folk here."
"I don't deserve them," he said humbly. Then he added, "Mother, my dear, may I send a big bundle of nice things for their community Christmas tree?"
"Certainly," she said, "and, my boy, I have good news for you. Madame de Valkonski has discovered that the back of your head is shaped like her Paul's. Now she will love you like a second mother."
Dallas put his two hands on her arms. "Mother-my-love, I can have two mothers, three mothers, or a dozen mothers, but there will never be one like my very own."
Mrs. Duff was quite tired, but I could see as I looked in her boy's window that his words put new strength in her.
She straightened herself and said in her sweet though always husky voice, "Together, my boy, we shall see what we can do for the world. There is much unhappiness."
Dallas put his arm round her and escorted her to her room upstairs, then he came out on the veranda and looked long and lovingly at the lake, smiling as he listened to the screaming gossip of the beloved loons about their approaching winter journey to southern climes.
Glancing behind him I saw Mr. Devering coming out of his office. The man was pained at the thought of parting from this dearly loved boy who had been such a care to him for so many years.
He was glad to give him up to his own parents, yet he wished to have a few last words with him.
However as he stepped round the north corner of the house Big Chief and Cassowary came round the south one, and as often happens the light step of youth got ahead of the slower one of middle age.
Both boy and girl pounced on their cousin standing there in the moonlight.
"I say!" exclaimed Big Chief, "come for a walk."
As the three went down the steps a disappointed expression came over Mr. Devering's face. When our dear lad came to Fawn Lake it was his uncle he sought. Now in his more normal outlook on life he chose companions of his own age.
Then, being a good man Mr. Devering's face became resigned.
"Pony," he said, coming over to me, "when I am dead and gone those three young creatures—bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, will carry on my work—God bless them!"
Big Chief at that instant looked over his shoulder and called out, "Oh! Dad—you know where we're going. We won't be long. Fetlar—come too."
I had thought of going to my stable for I knew we would start on a long journey the next day. However a pony's duty is to obey and I travelled after the three.
Arm in arm they wandered along the road till they got to the beech-wood. Ah! Now I understood.
Big Chief pulled up under old King of the Glen.
"Dallas," he said, "I want to say good-bye to you here on this spot where your Pony stopped me from doing a fool thing that I would have been ashamed of all my life."
Dallas looked uncomfortable, and Big Chief went on, "I'm going to miss you like poison, and I've been thinking that you and I have got to see each other often. Will you promise to come back?"
"Rather," said Dallas, "and you must come to visit me."
At this instant Cassowary interposed. "I'm only a girl, but I think you might take me in."
Dallas flashed round on her, "Only a girl!" he said. "Some day you'll be a woman. Do you know what my mother says?"
"What?" asked Cassowary.
"She says that though your dad is her own brother, it's your mother that's behind most of the good work carried on in this place. She goes round among the women and finds out what is most needed then whispers in your Dad's ear—and don't you remember what Miss Jazzamine was reading to us yesterday?
Cassowary's face shone in the moonlight. "Mother is a wonder. I've always thought so."
Then she became sentimental. "If you two boys approve," she said, "I think it would be nice to have a covenant."
They both stared at her, and her black eyes grew mysterious.
"I knew two girls about to part. They pricked their arms with a pin and took a little, just a little blood out. Then they signed their names on paper—in red."
The two boys looked at each other trying not to smile.
Then Dallas said, "Have you got a match about you, Big Chief?"
"No sir," he said seriously, "Dad won't let me smoke."
"Because," said Dallas in his polite way, "you couldn't use a pin before you passed it through a flame on account of germs."
"I never thought of that," said Cassowary.
"I guess our word is good enough," said Big Chief. "We three cousins promise to stand by each other and look out for the little kids. Let's shake hands on it—King of the Glen and Fetlar witnesses."
They shook hands solemnly, then Cassowary leaped on my back and the boys raced her home.
That was only last night, and now we—that is Mr. and Mrs. Duff, Madame de Valkonski, Dallas, Constancy the lamb, the pup, and I, are on a steamer going swiftly through a chain of lakes.
I am not afraid or lonely as I was when I came to this lovely Northland, for my master stands beside me and he says that we shall never be separated.
Would that every boy in the world had a pony, and every pony had as good a master as I have!
THE END