CHAPTER XVI
Under the Pines
When spring came, bringing daffodils in the orchard, and primrose starsunder the alder bushes in the meadow, and tiny green shoots on thehedges, and singing of larks and cawing of jackdaws and twitter oflinnets, and all the other dear delights of the "return of Proserpine",Walden also celebrated a birthday. It was a year since the Watsons hadobtained possession of their little property. To them all it had been aglad, golden, glorious year, full of fresh interests, new awakenings,and hitherto undreamed-of experiences. They had been living spirituallyon a far higher plane; almost unconsciously the influence of hills andwide skies and dashing waters had passed into their lives and widenedthem. So much of what we are in our after years depends on the standardof happiness we form when we are quite young. If we learn to takeNature's hand and read in her book, she can teach us wonderful secrets,and lift our souls so that we can never again be really narrow, orvulgar, or petty, or commonplace. It is not the mere fact of living inthe country that gives this inner vision. Too often country dwellers goabout with closed eyes and sealed hearts to the meaning of the beautyaround them; but to those who will listen to Mother Nature's manyvoices, there comes a wonderful refinement and purity of taste, quiteirrespective of wealth or class distinctions, the mark of the spiritthat is daily growing, overmastering the claims of the physical body,and fitting itself for something that as yet we only grasp at but cannotreach. God must love His children very dearly to send them suchbeautiful things as the April sunshine, and the light on the hills, andthe white spray of the whirling waterfall, and the violets in the hazelcoppice. They may spoil His earth for themselves, but the springtimecomes again, and the little heartsease flowers will bloom, not only overthose graves in France, but over deeper graves of fallen hopes and lostideals.
Mrs. Watson reviewed the year at Walden as so much gain. To begin with,her primary object in the removal had been an entire success: Daphne,formerly pale, thin, and an object for anxiety, was now as radiant as apink-tipped daisy, and pronounced by the specialist to be absolutely fitand sound. She spent most of her time out of doors, gardening andlooking after her colony of fowls, and, though she might not be doingdefinite war work, felt that she was helping her country by theproduction of food-stuffs. Daphne had suddenly grown very pretty.Avelyn, who often looked at her critically, decided that pointemphatically. It was a delicate, ethereal, elusive kind of beauty, dueas much to expression as to straight features and smiling grey eyes.Daphne never came out well in a photograph--that was quite a recognizedfact in the family; to appreciate her, you had to see her when she wasexcited, or gardening, with her hair rumpled.
The Walden birthday fell early in April, and the Watsons decided tocelebrate it by having a Saturday picnic. Captain Harper promised tojoin them--he came up sometimes from the camp to Lyngates--and they alsoasked Pamela and her mother. Rather to their surprise, Mrs. Reynoldsaccepted the invitation. The poor lady was still somewhat crushed anddepressed, but she seemed to be trying to bestir herself, and, for herdaughter's sake, to make faint, almost pathetic efforts at friendship.She was shy and uncommunicative, but she evidently liked Mrs. Watson,and would cheer up a little in her presence, and venture a few remarks,and even a watery smile. The picnic was to be in the pine woods, so allmet at the cross-roads by the pond as a common starting-point, and setforth together, armed with tea baskets.
It was a two-mile walk up hill, along a road that twisted at sharpangles and gave lovely views of the landscape below. Presently theyreached the beginnings of the wood, and some pines rose like giantsentinels guarding an enchanted land. As they tramped on, the treesstood thicker, tall and straight as the masts of a ship, with a carpetof soft fallen needles underneath. All at once a gleam of water flashed,and they had reached the bourne of their journey, a little grey lakeset in the midst of the wood, with heather and whinberry growing roundits banks. There was a space of shingle down by the water, and here,after a grand hunt to collect sticks, they lighted a fire and boiled thekettle they had brought with them.
It was fun sitting round in a gipsy circle, even if the tea was ratherweak and smoky, and the war cake was conspicuous by its lack of sugarand currants. Everybody could have eaten a great deal more than theration, and the provisions disappeared down to the very last crumb.Afterwards the young folks started to explore the banks, and had a wildtime scrambling over fallen tree trunks, jumping small streams, andpushing through thickets. At a particularly large fallen pine Avelynstruck, and demanded a rest. She and Pamela perched themselves on thetop, and announced their intention of sitting still for at least tenminutes. The boys, who had been cutting walking-sticks from the hazelsby the lake edge, consented to a halt, and settled down with theirpenknives, whittling away busily. Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Reynolds werewashing up the tea-cups at the picnic place, and the sound of theirvoices echoed faintly over the water. Daphne and Captain Harper seemedtemporarily lost.
"It's like home to be right amongst the pines!" said Pamela, lookingwith far-away eyes at the vista of red-brown trunks and green needles.
"Did you live among them in America?" asked Avelyn.
"Yes, our ranch was out in British Columbia, close to the edge of theforest. At one time Daddy had lumbering business there, and we spent thesummer at a log shanty right up on the mountain. It was glorious, and Iloved it, but it was very lonely. Daddy used to be out all day, lookingafter the timber, and Mother and I would be left by ourselves untilevening. Sometimes we didn't see anyone except our own family for weeksand weeks."
"Were you frightened?"
"Only once, and then we really had an adventure. I was more scared whenit was over than at the time."
"Do tell us about it!" pleaded Avelyn.
Pamela hesitated, and threw pine cones into the lake. She had never beenvery expansive about her life in Canada, and the Watsons had heard fewof her experiences there. They had a general impression that Mr.Reynolds had not prospered in the New World, and that Pamela shrank fromletting her friends know the roughness of her early upbringing. As arule they refrained from questioning her--she was not a girl whom it waseasy to question--but an adventure could not be resisted.
"Do tell us, Pam!" urged the boys, wriggling nearer, and stopping theirwhittling.
Pamela threw away all the pine cones that lay in her lap, seemed tothink a moment or two, then finally decided.
"All right, I'll tell you if you like! Well, as I've just said, we wereliving in a log-house in a little clearing in the forest. We used tohear the coyotes howling about at night, but we didn't mind those in theleast. They're cowardly beasts, and we'd never seen anything else tofrighten us. One day Father had a much longer round to go than usual,and he said he should not be back at night, but would sleep with somefriends at a ranch a good many miles off. Mother and I did not mindbeing left. Daddy had been obliged to stop away like that before, so wewere accustomed to it. I went out in the afternoon, across the clearing,and through part of the forest to some open pastures where the berriesgrew. I stayed there, picking some and eating them, and putting some inmy basket, for just ages. It was nice there: I found flowers as well asberries; and I'd brought out a book with me, so I sat down and read andenjoyed myself. Suddenly I noticed that the sun was beginning to set,and I jumped up and felt guilty. I knew that Mother would have supperready, and that she'd be waiting for me. I ran home all the way. It wasgetting quite dusk in the forest as I went through. When I came near thehouse, I could see that the shutters were up, covering the window. Thatdidn't surprise me, because Mother generally closed them as soon as shelighted the lamp. But she always left the door standing open for me, andto-night the door was shut too. I was rushing forward to open it, when Iheard Mother's voice calling me.
"'Pamela, stop! Don't come a step nearer, child!'
"I looked round to see where Mother was, and she was in the funniestplace. Our log-cabin had a loft above it, which was reached by a ladderfrom the living-room. This loft had a tiny window in the roof, and, loand be
hold, there was Mother peeping out of the window and waving meback! I thought it so funny that I began to laugh, but Mother wasn'tlaughing at all. She called out again:
"'Keep back!'
"Her voice sounded so queer that it suddenly scared me. My legs began toshake in the silliest way.
"'What's the matter?' I shouted.
"Mother's voice quavered a little:
"'Don't be too frightened, darling! There's a puma shut up in thehouse!'
"I was fearfully frightened, all the same. I should have run away ifMother had not been at the window. I stared at the house, picturing thathorrible thing moving about inside. Mother went on explaining:
"'I'd lighted the lamp and closed the shutters, and I'd left the dooropen for you. Then, suddenly, I saw the creature creep into the room. Myfirst idea was that it would rush out and catch you just as you werecoming home, so I slammed the door, and dashed up the ladder into theloft, and then kicked the ladder away. He's downstairs quite safe, andI'm up here and he can't get at me. I've put down the trap-door.'
"'Can't you crawl through the window, Mummie?' I gasped.
"'No, it's too small. I've tried. I'm caged up here, just as much as thepuma is caged down below, and I can hear him raging about. If he upsetsthe lamp, the whole place will be on fire.'
"I gave a great cry at that, because it seemed almost a certain thingthat the puma would upset the lamp, and then I knew the log-cabin wouldbe in a blaze. What could I do? Daddy would not be returning home thatnight, and our nearest neighbours were miles away. Yet I must get help,and at once. There was nothing else for it; every minute was ofconsequence.
"'I'll go to the Petersons' ranch, Mummie!' I shouted, and I started offrunning without waiting for her to reply.
"I was only eleven, and the forest was getting dark. I had never beenout alone in it at that time of evening. I wasn't brave at all. My legsshook under me as I ran, and I imagined a puma behind every bush. Then Iwas rather uncertain about the trail. In that dim light it would be veryeasy to lose my way and never reach the ranch at all. I decided to keepnear the stream, which would guide me. I went stumbling on for whatseemed a long time, and everything was getting darker, when suddenly, onthe other side of the stream, I saw the light of a camp fire. I knewsome lumbermen must be spending the night in the woods there, and thatthey might help me. I hallooed and cooeed as loudly as I could, but thewind was in the wrong direction and carried my voice away, and thestream was noisy, so I couldn't make them hear me.
"I didn't know what to do. Then, a little farther down, I saw that atree had fallen across the stream. I ran along and looked at it. It wasa horrible bridge--I'm a coward at crossing water--but I had to crawlover it somehow. For a year afterwards I used to dream that I was doingit again, and would wake up gasping. I've hated running water eversince. Well, I managed to get across, though I never quite knew how Idid it, and then I ran up to the camp fire, shaking so that I couldhardly tell what I wanted.
"Three men were sitting there, cooking their supper, and one of themcalled out: 'Hallo! What's up with you, young 'un?'
"When I said there was a puma inside our house they all whistled. Thenthe one who had spoken reached for his gun, and said: 'We'll come withyou, lassie!'
"The others didn't say anything, but they got up and found their gunstoo. One of them took me on his back and carried me across the bridgewhen he saw how I funked it. He went over without minding it in theleast. I don't know how he could!
"It was fearfully dark going home through the wood, and I could onlyjust manage to find the trail. We got to our shanty at last, and Ishouted, and Mother looked out of the window and said: 'Thank God you'reback safe!'
"The three men talked over the best way of killing the puma. One of themprised open the shutters and the other two stood ready with their guns.The creature had been quiet (so Mother told us afterwards) for a longwhile, but when the shutters fell back it went wild, and came tearingacross the room to the window, knocking over the table and upsetting thelamp. It was shot directly, and fell dead inside the room. But the lamphad broken and set up a blaze. The men rushed to our shed for spades andthrew earth on the burning paraffin, managing to put the fire out beforeany real damage had been done. Then they fixed the ladder again, andMother came down from the loft.
"When Daddy came home next day she said she daren't be left alone in thewoods again, so he took us to the settlement, and we lived there therest of the summer."
"Did you keep the puma's skin?" asked Anthony, who had followed thestory with breathless interest.
"No, I'd have liked to, but the lumbermen had dragged the thing outside,and the coyotes got hold of it in the night, so there wasn't much skinleft by morning."
"I think you were immensely plucky!" exclaimed Avelyn warmly.
"Plucky! What else could I have done? I tell you, I felt the biggestcoward out!"