The King's Arrow Part 3

"I kin nebber git used to it, chile. I'se been torn up by de roots from de ol' home where I was born an' bred, an' I kin nebber take root agin, 'specially in sich a rocky hole as dis."

"But we're not going to stay here, Mammy. We are going up the river, and make a new home in a beautiful place among the trees."

"Ah, chile, dat's what makes me tremble. It's bad 'nuf here, de Lo'd knows, but up dere! Why, dere's bears, an' tagers dat'll eat ye up in a jiffy. An' dere's Injuns, too, dat'll skin ye alive, an' scalp ye, an' roast ye fo' dinner. No, I kin nebber take root in a place like dat."

"But we'll be pioneers, Mammy," the girl reminded. "Just think what an honour it will be to take part in holding this land for King George.

People will be proud of what we are doing in years to come."

"I don't want to be no pioneers, Missie Jean, an' I'm not hankerin'

after no honour. It suits dis ol' woman better to hab her skin an'

scalp now, even if dey are black, den to hab folks ye don't know nuffin' 'bout blubberin' over ye a hundred years from now. Dem's my solemn sent'ments."

"But daddy thinks there is a great purpose in our coming here, Mammy.

He says he believes that the Lord is overruling our defeat, and that the driving us out from our homes and scattering us abroad will be the means of extending King George's sway, and raising up a great nation in this land."

"Missie Jean," and Mammy raised a warning finger, "I doan want to predjis you 'ginst yer daddy's jeg'ment, remember. But I can't see de Lo'd's hand in dis racket. It doan seems nat'ral to me fo' de Lo'd to let King George lose a good an' beau'ful country, an' den gib him sich a jumpin'-off place as dis instead. An', chile, I doan believe dat de Lo'd ever meant yo' to come here."

"Why, Mammy? Do I look any the worse for it?"

"Yo' couldn't look worse, Missie Jean, not if yo' tried ebber so hard."

"Come, come, Mammy, I am surprised at you," and the girl's eyes sparkled with merriment. "What do you mean by saying I couldn't look worse? I didn't know I was as hideous as all that."

"I didn't say yo' was hidjus, Missie Jean. I jes said yo' couldn't look worse, an' ye can't. Yo' kin only look beau'ful. Why, chile, it makes my ol' heart ache when I t'ink of sich a lubly creature as yo'

bein' buried alive 'way off in de woods."

"But I don't intend to be buried alive, Mammy. I hope to live a good many years yet, and only buried when I am dead."

"Ah, chile, dere is more ways den one of bein' buried alive. I am t'inkin' of de lonely life in de woods, wif no nice young men to look at yer pretty face, lubly eyes, an' beau'ful hair. An' ye'll hab no chance to wear fine clothes an' be admired."

"Mammy." There was a note in the girl's voice which caused the colored woman to glance quickly up.

"What is it, chile?"

"I want to tell you something, Mammy. This is not the time to talk about such things, nor to wail and lament about our lot. I have just been down helping some of those women with their children. They are almost heart-broken, and I did what I could to cheer them up. I have made up my mind that no matter how badly I feel, no one is to know anything about it. I am going to forget my own troubles in helping others. And, Mammy, I want you to do the same. If you talk to others as you have been talking to me, it will make them more depressed than ever. They need smiles, words of cheer, and a helping hand. And you can do that, remember. Never mind about me, or admiring young men.

There are more serious things to think about just now."

"Land sakes, chile!" the colored woman exclaimed, holding up both hands. "I nebber heard yo' talk dat way befo'. But I guess yo're right, an' I'se ready to do what I kin. But here comes de Cun'l! An', oh, Missie Jean, de Major's wif him! Dere won't be 'nuf waffles to go 'round, an' de fire's 'most out. What in de world is I to do?"

"Never mind, Mammy," the girl comforted, "they have hardly time to think about eating. Just give them what you have."

"But dese waffles are col', chile, an' I know how fond men are of eatin'. Nuffin' kin make dem fergit dere stummicks."

Smiling at the colored woman's worries, Jean at once set to work to renew the fire. There were a few hot coals, so by the time the men arrived, she had the fire burning brightly, and Mammy was preparing to cook an extra supply of waffles.

Colonel Sterling was a fine looking man. His white hair, flowing beard, and commanding presence would have distinguished him in any company. His face was genial, and his grey eyes shone with pleasure and pride as they rested upon his daughter who now turned to meet him.

"Is supper ready, dear?" he enquired, "I am hungry, and I know the Major is, too."

"There is the supper," and Jean pointed to the dish of waffles. "But I'm afraid it's not much for two hungry men. The Major, I am sure, will find it pretty poor fare."

"Not at all, Miss Jean," the officer smilingly a.s.sured her. "I recall so well the choice waffles I had at your old home in Stamford the last time I visited there. And I am confident, too, that your excellent cook has lost none of her skill since then."

He looked toward Mammy as he spoke, causing the faithful servant almost to drop the iron she was holding, so great was her confusion at such a compliment from so great a person.

Major Gilfred Studholme was the right man in the right place at this critical time in the history of Portland Point. He had served with distinction on behalf of his King in numerous engagements, and his heart went out in sympathy to the thousands of refugees so suddenly thrust upon him for protection. This soldier had held his post secure in the face of hostile savages and lawless marauders, and he was equally faithful now in the discharge of his duties to the newcomers.

Leaving Mammy to recover from her embarra.s.sment and to continue her cooking, Jean went into the little shack, the only home she now knew, and brought forth a small table. This she placed near the door, covered it with a white cloth, and again went inside for dishes. Her supply of the latter was most meagre, as the rest had not been unpacked. Her eyes grew a little misty as she recalled what the Major had said about the last time he had been with them in their old home in Stamford. She had a clear remembrance of that day, of the neatly-arranged table, with fresh flowers in the centre, and the light of pleasure and contentment upon her dear mother's face. What changes had taken place since then! Her mother had been laid to rest, the old home was gone, and they were exiles in a strange cruel land.

Hastily wiping her eyes with a delicately-embroidered handkerchief, she collected a few dishes, and had just reached the door when she suddenly stopped. Standing before the Major she saw a young man, clad in the most peculiar manner she had ever seen. But his face and bearing were what chiefly attracted her, while a pleasurable sensation, such as she had never before experienced, swept through her being.

"I am Dane Norwood," the young man was saying, "and I bring a message from William Davidson, the King's purveyor. Here it is," and he handed forth a letter he had taken from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Are you in the King's service?" the Major asked as he took the missive.

"I am," was the reply. "I am a special courier, known as the 'King's Arrow,' and I always go where I am sent. That is why I am here."

"Where are your manners, then?" the Major demanded with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Manners! What manners?"

"When you approach a superior officer, of course."

"Oh, you mean the salute. I have heard of it, but never saw it given."

"What! you never saluted any one; not even the King's purveyor?"

"No. Where I live we are all equal when it comes to that. We never bother about such things. The only salute I know is the kind I handed out to those slashers a short time ago when they tried to take that message from me."

"Where was that?" the Major questioned.

"Just over there along that road," and Dane motioned to the right.

"Where are they now?"

"I think two are busy nursing their faces, while the third is hiding somewhere around the trading post. He was running that way the last time I saw him."

"And you defeated the three of them single-handed?"

"Why, that was nothing. I would be a mighty poor courier if I couldn't take care of myself, especially when slashers are around."

A bright smile illumined the Major's face as he held out his right hand.

"Young man, I am proud of you," he said, "and I shall mention you to the General Officers in my next report. We need such men as you to-day."

"I don't care for any honour," Dane replied. "I only want an answer to that letter, so I can get away early in the morning. Davidson is pretty anxious up river."

"Why, sure enough," the Major agreed. "I must not keep you longer than is necessary."