CHAPTER V.
ON THE RIVER.
Hildegarde went softly downstairs, and stood in the doorway for a fewminutes, looking about her. The house was very still; nothing seemed tobe stirring, or even awake, except herself. She peeped into the parlor,and saw Cousin Wealthy placidly sleeping in her easy-chair. At her feet,on a round hassock, lay Dr. Johnson, also sleeping soundly. "It is theenchanted palace," said Hildegarde to herself; "only the princess hasgrown old in the hundred years,--but so prettily old!--and the princewould have to be a stately old gentleman to match her." She went out onthe lawn; still there was no sound, save the chirping of grasshoppersand crickets. It was still the golden prime of a perfect June day; whatwould be the most beautiful thing to do where all was beauty? Read, orwrite letters? No! that she could do when the glory had begun to fade.She walked about here and there,--"just enjoying herself," she said. Shetouched the white heads of the daisies; but did not pick them, becausethey looked so happy. She put her arms round the most beautifulelm-tree, and gave it a little hug, just to thank it for being sostately and graceful, and for bending its branches over her so lovingly.Then a butterfly came fluttering by. It was a Camberwell Beauty, andHildegarde followed it about a little as it hovered lazily from onedaisy to another.
"Last year at this time," she said, thinking aloud, "I didn't know whata Camberwell Beauty was. I didn't know any butterflies at all; and ifany one had said 'Fritillary' to me, I should have thought it wassomething to eat." This disgraceful confession was more than the Beautycould endure, and he fluttered away indignant.
"I don't wonder!" said the girl. "But you'd better take care, my dear. Iknow you now, and I don't _think_ Bubble has more than two of your kindin his collection. I promised to get all the butterflies and moths Icould for the dear lad, and if you are too superior, I may begin withyou."
At this moment a faint creak fell on her ear, coming from the directionof the garden. "As of a wheelbarrow!" she said."Jeremiah!--boat!--river!--_now_ I know what I was wanting to do." Sheran round to the garden; and there, to be sure, was Jeremiah, wheelingoff a huge load of weeds.
"Oh, Jeremiah!" said Hildegarde, eagerly, "is the--do you think the boatis safe?"
"'DO SAY IT'S ALL RIGHT, JEREMIAH!'"]
Jeremiah put down his load and looked at her with sad surprise. "Theboat?" he repeated. "She's all safe! I was down to the wharf thismornin'. Nobody's had her out, 's I know of."
"Oh, I didn't mean that!" said Hildegarde, laughing. "I mean, is shesafe for me to go in? Miss Bond said that I could go out on the river,if _you_ said it was all right. _Do_ say it's all right, Jeremiah!"
Jeremiah never smiled, but his melancholy lightened several shades."She's right enough," he said,--"the boat. She isn't hahnsome, but she'sstiddy 's a rock. _She_ don't like boats, any way o' the world, but I'lltake ye down and get her out for ye."
Rightly conjecturing that the last "her" referred to the boat,Hildegarde gladly followed the Ancient Mariner down the path that slopedfrom the garden, through a green pasture, round to the river-bank. Hereshe found the boat-house, whose roof she had seen from her window, anda gray wharf with moss-grown piers. The tide was high, and it tookJeremiah only a few minutes to pull the little green boat out, and sether rocking on the smooth water.
"Oh, thank you!" said Hildegarde. "I am so much obliged!"
"No need ter!" responded Jeremiah, politely. "Ye've handled a boatbefore, have ye?"
"Oh, yes," she said. "I don't think I shall have any trouble." And asshe spoke, she stepped lightly in, and seating herself, took the oarsthat he handed her. "And which is the prettiest way to row,Jeremiah,--up river, or down?"
Jeremiah meditated. "Well," he said, "I don't hardly know as I canrightly tell. Some thinks one way's pooty; some thinks t' other. Both of'em 's sightly, to my mind."
"Then I shall try both," said Hildegarde, laughing. "Good-by, Jeremiah!I will bring the boat back safe."
The oars dipped, and the boat shot off into midstream. Jeremiah lookedafter it a few minutes, and then turned back toward the house. "_She_knows what she's about!" he said to himself.
Near the bank the water had been a clear, shining brown, with thepebbles showing white and yellow through it; but out here in the middleof the river it was all a blaze and ripple and sparkle of blue and gold.Hildegarde rested on her oars, and sat still for a few minutes, baskingin the light and warmth; but soon she found the glory too strong, andpulled over to the other side, where high steep banks threw a shadow onthe water. Here the water was very deep, and the rocks showed as clearand sharp beneath it as over it. Hildegarde rowed slowly along,sometimes touching the warm stone with her hand. She looked down, andsaw little minnows and dace darting about, here and there, up and down."How pleasant to be a fish!" she thought. "There comes one up out of thewater. Plop! Did you get the fly, old fellow?
"'They wriggled their tails; In the sun glanced their scales.'"
Then she tried to repeat "Saint Anthony's Sermon to the Fishes," ofwhich she was very fond.
"Sharp-snouted pikes, Who keep fighting like tikes, Now swam up harmonious To hear Saint Antonius. No sermon beside Had the pikes so edified."
Presently something waved in the shadow,--something moving, among thestill reflections of the rocks. Hildegarde looked up. There, growing ina cranny of the rock above her, was a cluster of purple bells, noddingand swaying on slender thread-like stems. They were so beautiful thatshe could only sit still and look at them at first, with eyes ofdelight. But they were so friendly, and nodded in such a cheerful way,that she soon felt acquainted with them.
"You dears!" she cried; "have you been waiting there, just for me tocome and see you?"
The harebells nodded, as if there were no doubt about it.
"Well, here I am!" Hildegarde continued; "and it was very nice of you tocome. How do you like living on the rock there? He must be very proud ofyou, the old brown giant, and I dare say you enjoy the water and thelights and shadows, and would not stay in the woods if you could. If Iwere a flower, I should like to be one of you, I think. Good-by, dearpretties! I should like to take you home to Rose, but it would be awickedness to pick you."
She kissed her hand to the friendly blossoms, and they nodded a pleasantgood-by, as she floated slowly down stream. A little farther on, shecame to a point of rock that jutted out into the river; on it a singlepine stood leaning aslant, throwing a perfect double of itself on theglassy water. Hildegarde rested in the shadow. "To be in a boat and in atree at the same moment," she thought, "is a thing that does not happento every one. Rose will not believe me when I tell her; yet here are thebranches all around me, perfect, even to the smallest twig. Query, am Ia bird or a fish? Here is actually a nest in the crotch of thesebranches, but I fear I shall find no eggs in it." Turning the point ofrock, she found on the other side a fairy cove, with a tiny patch ofsilver sand, and banks of fern coming to the water's edge on eitherside. Some of the ferns dipped their fronds in the clear water, whiletaller ones peeped over their heads, trying to catch a glimpse of theirown reflection.
Hildegarde's keen eyes roved among the green masses, seeking thedifferent varieties,--botrychium, lady-fern, delicate hart's-tongue;behind these, great nodding ostrich-ferns, bending their stately plumesover their lowlier sisters; beyond these again a tangle of brake runningup into the woods. "Why, it is a fern show!" she thought. "This must bethe exhibition room for the whole forest. Visitors will please not touchthe specimens!"
She pulled close to the bank. Instantly there was a rustle and a flutteramong the ferns; a little brown bird flew out, and perching on thenearest tree, scolded most violently. Very carefully Hildegarde drewthe ferns aside, and lo! a wonderful thing,--a round nest, neatly builtof moss and tiny twigs; and in it four white eggs spotted with brown.
"It is too good to be true," thought the girl. "I am asleep, and I shallwake in a moment. I haven't done anything to deserve seeing this. Roseis good enough; I
wish she were here."
But the little brown bird was by this time in a perfect frenzy ofmaternal alarm; and very reluctantly, with an apology to the angrymatron, Hildegarde let the ferns swing back into place, and pulled theboat away from the bank. On the whole, it seemed the most beautifulthing she had ever seen; but everything was so beautiful!
The girl's heart was very full of joy and thankfulness as she rowedalong. Life was so full, so wonderful, with new wonders, new beauties,opening for her every day. "Let all that hath life praise the Lord!" shemurmured softly; and the very silence seemed to fill with love andpraise. Then her thoughts went back to the time, a little more than ayear ago, when she neither knew nor cared about any of these things;when "the country" meant to her a summer watering-place, where one wentfor two or three months, to wear the prettiest of light dresses, and toride and drive and walk on the beach. Her one idea of life was the lifeof cities,--of _one_ city, New York. A country-girl, if she ever thoughtof such a thing, meant simply an ignorant, coarse, common girl, who hadno advantages. No advantages! and she herself, all the time, did notknow one tree from another. She had been the cleverest girl in school,and she could not tell a robin's note from a vireo's; as for thewood-thrush, she had never heard of it. A flower to her meant ahot-house rose; a bird was a bird; a butterfly was a butterfly. Allother insects, the whole winged host that fills the summer air with lifeand sound, were included under two heads, "millers" and "bugs."
"No, not _quite_ so bad as that!" she cried aloud, laughing, though hercheeks burned at her own thoughts. "I _did_ know bees and wasps, and I_think_ I knew a dragon-fly when I saw him."
But for the rest, there seemed little to say in her defence. She wasjust like Peter Bell, she thought; and she repeated Wordsworth'slines,--
"A primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him, And it was nothing more."
Here was this little brown bird, for example. Bird and song and eggs,all together could not tell her its name. She drew from her pocket alittle brown leather note-book, and wrote in it, "Four white eggs,speckled with brown; brown bird, small, nest of fine twigs, onriver-bank;" slipped it in her pocket again, and rowed on, feelingbetter. After all, it was so _very_ much better to know that one hadbeen a goose, than not to know it! Now that her eyes were once open, wasshe not learning something new every day, almost every hour?
She rowed on now with long strokes, for the bank was steep and rockyagain, and there were no more fairy coves. Soon, however, she came to anisland,--a little round island in the middle of the river, thicklycovered with trees. This was a good place to turn back at, for Rosewould be awake by this time and looking for her. First, however, shewould row around the island, and consider it from all sides.
The farther side showed an opening in the trees, and a pretty littledell, shaded by silver birches,--a perfect place for a picnic, thoughtHildegarde. She would bring Rose here some day, if good Martha wouldmake them another chicken-pie; perhaps Cousin Wealthy would come too.Dear Cousin Wealthy! how good and kind and pretty she was! One would notmind growing old, if one could be sure of being good and pretty, andhaving everybody love one.
At this moment, as Hildegarde turned her boat up river, something veryastonishing happened. Not ten yards away from her, a huge body shot upout of the water, described a glittering arc, and fell again,disappearing with a splash which sent the spray flying in all directionsand made the rocks echo. Hildegarde sat quite still for several minutes,petrified with amazement, and, it must be confessed, with fear. Who everheard of such a thing as this? A fish? Why, it was as big as a youngwhale! Only whales didn't come up rivers, and she had never heard oftheir jumping out of water in this insane way. Suppose the creatureshould take it into his head to leap again, and should fall into theboat? At this thought our heroine began to row as fast as she could,taking long strokes, and making the boat fairly fly through the water;though, as she said to herself, it would not make any difference, if herenemy were swimming in the same direction.
Presently, however, she heard a second splash behind her, and turning,saw the huge fish just disappearing, at some distance down river. Sherecovered her composure, and in a few minutes was ready to laugh at herown terrors.
Homeward now, following the west bank, as she had gone down along theeast. This side was pretty, too, though there were no rocks nor fernycoves. On the contrary, the water was quite shallow, and full of brownweeds, which brushed softly against the boat. Not far from the bank shesaw the highway, looking white and dusty, with the afternoon sun lyingon it. "No dust on my road!" she said exultingly; "and no hills!" sheadded, as she saw a wagon, at some distance, climbing an almostperpendicular ascent. "I wonder what these water-plants are! Rose wouldknow, of course."
Now came the willows that she had seen from the window,--the "marginwillow-veiled" that had reminded her of the Lady of Shalott. It waspleasant to row under them, letting the cool, fragrant leaves brushagainst her face. Here, too, were sweet-scented rushes, of which shegathered an armful for Rose, who loved them; and in this place she madethe acquaintance of a magnificent blue dragon-fly, which alighted onher oar as she lifted it from the water, and showed no disposition todepart. His azure mail glittered in the sunlight; his gauzy wings, as hefurled and unfurled them deliberately, were like cobwebs powdered withsnow. He evidently expected to be admired, and Hildegarde could notdisappoint him.
"Fair sir," she said courteously, "I doubt not that you are the Lancelotof dragon-flies. Your armor is the finest I ever saw; doubtless, it hasbeen polished by some lily maid of a white butterfly, or she might be apeach-blossom moth,--daintiest of all winged creatures. The sight of youfills my heart with rapture, and I fain would gaze on you for hours.Natheless, fair knight, time presses, and if you _would_ remove yourchivalrous self from my unworthy oar,--really not a fit place for yourknighthood,--I should get on faster."
Sir Lancelot deigning no attention to this very civil speech, shesplashed her other oar in the water, and exclaimed, "Hi!" sharply,whereupon the gallant knight spread his shining wings and departed inwrath.
And now the boat-house was near, and the beautiful, beautiful time wasover. Hildegarde took two or three quick strokes, and then let the boatdrift on toward the wharf, while she leaned idly back and trailed herhand in the clear water. It had been so perfect, so lovely, she was veryloath to go on shore again. But the thought of Rose came,--sweet,patient Rose, wondering where her Hilda was; and then she rowed quicklyon, and moored the boat, and clambered lightly up the wharf.
"Good-by, good boat!" she cried. "Good-by, dear beautiful river! I shallsee you to-morrow, the day after, every other day while I am here. Ihave been happy, happy, happy with you. Good-by!" And with a final waveof her hand, Hildegarde ran lightly up the path that led to the house.