CHAPTER XIII
THE HEN OF WUN SING
But whatever wild schemes were hatching in the heads of the three ladsnothing seemed to come of them.
Days followed one another in such peaceful routine that Dorothy feltashamed of her fears, as well as ashamed of her composure regarding JimBarlow. The longer he was absent the less they spoke of him. That he wasalive, somewhere, all were sure, and that he would return sometime or"when he gets good and ready," as Alfaretta coolly observed.
"He seemed like a very odd chap, the little I saw of him," said Leslie,and did not regret the stranger's absence.
Herbert was loyal and insisted that "Jim was a royal chap--once he shookoff his awkward shyness a bit. Why, the yarns Jim Barlow could spinabout woodsy things and habits of wild creatures would make you sitright up and take notice. Oh, Jim's all right--only bashful."
"That's so. Why, that fellow, don't you know, that fellow really plansto go sometime, to Africa, or some other place and live with monkeysjust to hear them talk. He--"
"He might have stayed right here with us--or you, Monty dear," saidMolly, sweetly.
Monty merely frowned at her but continued:
"There is a man did that. True. Went into the woods and lived in acage--"
"All that trouble and expense for nothing," again remarked Molly; andthis time Monty changed the subject, asking:
"Have you heard about Wun Sing and his hen?"
"Oh! never mind hens. What do you say, folks? Suppose we get old Lem togo with us into the mountains yonder and look for Jim?" said Herbert.
"You needn't do that. You'd not find him. He's hidden himself onpurpose, I believe, and only sent back Netty to let us know he was aliveand well. Even Molly thinks that," said Helena; "and I, for one don'tcare to hunt up boys who don't want to be found. I think Jim's shynessis at the bottom of the matter. It's kindness to let him alone and--"
Dolly looked serious and shook her head while Monty again demanded:
"Have you heard about Wun Sing's hen?"
"I wonder what he's going to give us for supper! I'm nearly starved.There never was such a place for appetites--eating doesn't stop thathollow, all-gone feeling a bit!" calmly stated Alfy, with a tragic air.
"Alfy, you little pig! It isn't more than an hour since we finisheddinner," reproved Molly, laughing.
"Well, I can't help that. I wish 'twas supper-time. Let's go in thekitchen and ask for a piece--like the children home do, bless 'em!"
"I say, you better not! Wun Sing's hen--"
"Monty--quit! Let's all go ask for a 'piece'!" cried Leslie, throwinghis arm around the "fat boy's" shoulder and forcing him along with theothers.
Herbert pulled out a jew's-harp--procured nobody knew where--and headedthe procession with a vain attempt to render "Yankee Doodle" so that itcould be recognized for itself. Then all fell into line, with thelaughter and nonsense natural to a company of care free "youngsters" asthey were now known all over the premises.
But as they passed a room just beyond Leslie's own, he poked his headthrough the window, to demand of Mateo, lying within:
"Any better, boy?"
"_Gracias_, Senor Leslie. Much better. Only, the hen of Wun Sing; theomelette--Ah! I suffer, _si_. I groan--I am on fire. The heathencreature and his foul fowl!"
"What's the matter, Les? Is that your pert valet laid up in yon? What'sup?"
"Rather--what's down? The boy hasn't been well, or says he hasn't thesethree days. That's why I had to put off the bear--"
"Mum! Dorothy's just behind us and she has ears all round her head! Butwe'll do it, yet; either with or without him. It'll be rippin' fun, butif that girl gets wind of it she'll stop it, sure."
"I wonder if we'll see Wun Sing's hen!" said Monty again.
"Stark! I tell you if you mention that fowl again I'll stuff her downyour throat!" cried Herbert, dropping his jew's-harp and engaging withMonty. But the latter was round and easily slipped through Bert'sfingers, and the scrimmage was playful, anyway.
Resuming their march they entered the great kitchen, now wholly desertedsave by the Chinaman, who cowered in a corner, praying lustily to hishonorable forefathers and burning some sort of stuff before a littleimage on the floor beside him. Like a good many others of his race, WunSing was "good Chlistian" when it suited him to be, but a much betterdevotee of his ancient gods when real trouble overtook him.
Wun Sing was in trouble now. Bottomless trouble, he feared, and sowholly engaged in his devotions that he didn't take any notice of thenoisy youngsters foraging his stores. Until, from the corner of hiseye, he saw Alfy poking into a little wall-cupboard that was his ownproperty and used to shelter his dearest treasures.
"No, no, Missee Alfaletta! No, no. Wun Sing's chalm no wolkee if lillgels meddle!"
He rose from his prostration on the floor and fairly flew to the girl'sside, pushing her hand aside from the key she had almost turned, hiswhole manner expressing great agitation.
Of course, she desisted at once, even apologized for her action, but herold co-worker in Mrs. Calvert's kitchen begged pardon in his own turnand after his foreign fashion. In his broken English he eagerlyexplained that he and his belongings had been _bewitched_.
His hen--the so beloved hen of Wun Sing, that he had brought from faraway California, along with some garden seeds and roots, the hen hadbeen entered by an evil spirit and the days of Wun Sing were numbered.Already he felt the dread sickness stealing over him, as it had alreadystolen upon his old neighbor of San Diego--the so afflicted Mateo. Hehad been praying and offering gifts to his little clay god but so farno good had come. Within the cupboard on the wall he had placed a"charm"--a terrible charm, in his opinion and if that failed not onlyhe but all at San Leon were doomed. Would that he had never heard ofthe place, even for the extra big wages the rich owner had offered.He--
When he had reached this point, Alfy shook him demanding:
"What makes you such a fool, Wunny? That little old image on the flooris enough to make you sick, course, it's so filthy dirty. I hope you'llscrub your hands good with soap before you touch any food for otherfolks to eat. What's the matter with the hen, anyway?"
Having put this question, Alfaretta walked to the sink and turned thespigot over her own hand, which suddenly felt soiled by contact with theChinaman's shoulder. Then she remarked:
"We're all hungry. Tell us where we can find something to eat."
The cook shook his head and Alfy foraged for herself: presently securingfrom the pantry a box of crackers and a jar of cheese. Armed with theserefreshments she felt she would be sustained until the regular suppertime, and invited her mates to accompany her on a visit to thiswonderful hen whose name was in everybody's mouth.
Wun Sing protested; but when they were determined, he tremblinglypresented each of the youngsters with a bit of red paper, inscribed inblack with a few Chinese characters. Laughingly, they pinned these onand so protected from "evil chalms" sought the little wire enclosurewhich the Chinaman had made for his petted fowl, upon his first comingto San Leon.
The hen had been the gift of his opulent kinsman, Der Doo, and was fartoo precious to its new owner to be allowed with the other poultry. Ithad lived in state within its little wire-covered yard, supplied withfresh grass each day and fattening upon the best of food. For its nightaccommodation, Wun Sing had constructed a tiny pagoda-like houseimitating a temple of his native land. Here the pampered fowl sleptluxuriously, and for a time had been the delight of its owner's eyes.
"Let's sit down on the grass and watch it awhile. We can eat ourcrackers here, first rate, 'cause if we get thirsty we can drink out ofthe spigot o' running water that cooky has fixed for the hen," suggestedAlfy.
So they ranged themselves in a semi-circle, with the crackers and cheesein the centre and awaited developments.
"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" crowed Herbert, in excellent imitation of arooster.
"Oh! hush! Hens don't do _that_; they justsay--cut-cut-cut-cut--cut-tarket!" corrected Molly.
Immediately the rest took up the mocking cries, to the evident distressof poor Wun Sing, who stood in the background, his face yellower thancommon and his hands clasping and unclasping nervously.
But neither cat-calls, crowings, nor cacklings, coaxed the invisiblefowl from her palace-like retreat. So, soon tiring of this, they fell totalking of other things and forgot the creature; till, suddenly, fromwithin the temple came a crow that beat even Herbert's noisy ones. Itwas so loud and so sudden, and was so closely followed by a jubilantcackle, that all of them were a trifle startled while Wun Sing threwhimself down in real terror.
The cackling continued a longer time than is usual and ended in anothermasculine crow. Then there solemnly stalked into the little yard a veryhandsome fowl, of the Plymouth Rock species, who strutted about as ifshe were the queen of all hens.
"Huh! Nothing the matter with that biddy, Wun Sing! I wish 't Ma Babcockhad her in our hennery, up-mounting. What's wrong with her, you think,Wunny?"
"Missee Alfletta--_eggs_!"
"Well, what's a hen's business in life but to lay eggs?" demandedHerbert, laughing at the Chinaman's curious expression.
Then it came out. That hen did lay eggs--such eggs! She was a big henand her eggs so small, and so many! Ah! she was bewitched. She wasbewitching Wun Sing. She had already bewitched Mateo, yes. It began thevery day the master left. On that sorrowful, august occasion that pentup, solitary fowl deposited two eggs in her softly lined nest.
"That might be. Ma's hens do that, sometimes, good breeds," said Alfy,in answer to the Chinaman's impressive statement.
With all this company of doubters around him Wun Sing felt secure enoughto go on and state that on the day following there had been four eggs!Then one--then again seven--the mystic number. Latterly there had beeneight, nine, as high as ten! All in one twenty-four hours! Could a fowl,free from an evil spirit, so conduct itself? No. No, indeed. Wun Singknew what he knew. Disaster was coming. There was trouble on the wing.It would light upon San Leon. They were doomed--doomed--doomed!
"I don't believe it!" declared Leslie. "But a hen of that character_ought_ to crow as well as cackle. How much'll you take for her, cooky?I'll buy and start a hennery to stump the world. Anybody want to go inwith me on this deal? San Leon Chinese Poultry--Warranted to MakePossessors Rich! The Egg Trust of San Leon! I say, boys, the thing'sjust rippin'!"
"Undo that little gate, Wunny. I'm going in to collect the eggs. Comeon, Alfy, or anybody," cried Dorothy, laughing. "That empty cracker boxto hold them in. By the way, Wunny, when did you empty the nest?"
He assured her that he had done so the last thing before retiring on thenight before. He had already taken two from it this day. Now by thecackle--there must be--Ah! he finished his speech with a wild flourishof his hands, then put them before his eyes to shield them from anuncanny sight.
Those outside the little poultry yard waited in curiosity for the othersto come back. The two girls within it had their heads close togetherpeering into the hen-temple, while Monty had squeezed his plump bodythrough its little door with the cracker box in hand.
"Oh! I say, come out of there! How many have you found?" called Herbert."Hurry up! Nell and Molly are getting scared. Fact!"
"I'm not," denied Molly, but Helena said nothing. It was absurd, but shewas actually catching some of the Chinaman's nervousness over this mostuncanny fowl. And a moment later, she was relieved to see theegg-hunters turn around and Monty emerge from that "heathen temple," thecracker box held tightly in his hand. He carried it as if it were heavyand his face was almost as solemn as the Chinaman's. The box containedeleven eggs!
Wun Sing gave one glance and fled, and trying to take the box into hisown hands, Leslie dropped it--with the natural result.
"Well, they may be bewitched eggs but they can break 'allee samee!' I'msorry, Wun Sing, but I'll pay for them! And say, did anybody ever hearof such a thing before?" asked Leslie, astonished.
Nobody had; and seeing Dr. Jones crossing the grounds at a littledistance they ran to him with the marvellous tale. He listenedattentively and even walked back with them to see the hen for himself.His decision put bewitchment out of the question.
"The bird is a freak of nature. I have read of such before, but they arerare. Either that--or--are you quite sure that no practical joke hasbeen played by any of the boys--or by yourselves?"
His keen study of their faces revealed nothing mischievous on any. Theywere all as honestly surprised as himself, and he then made a closeinspection of the little place. The pagoda stood exactly in the centreof the yard, so far from the wire-netting on every side that no armwould be long enough to reach it and drop eggs into the nest at theback. Wun Sing always kept the key of the Chinese padlock on the wiregate and entrance through it without his consent could not be made.
"It doesn't look like a hoax, and it's not to be wondered at that theChinaman was scared. We all are--at the unusual and unexplainable. Butthis is simple. It is a freak of nature and the hen will probably diesoon, of exhaustion."
The Doctor walked away and Molly made a funny little face behind hisback.
"I call that real mean, to take the mystery out of it in that way! I'vebeen getting delightfully goose-fleshy and creepy, just to find thespook is nothing but a silly old hen that's outdone herself. I hate tobe disappointed like that. I wish something would happen, realhair-raising, as Indians, or bears, or even a few catamounts!"
"If they did, I'd like to be on the spot. I bet you, Molly Breckenridge,you'd run faster than anybody if those things did happen," teased Monty.
Saying that, he exchanged an odd glance with Leslie, who nodded andsaid:
"Come along, boys, let's visit Mateo in a body. Force of numbers youknow. He lays it to eggs--Wunny's bewitched eggs, but I lay it tocowardice. There's nothing the matter with my valiant valet butdownright scare. After proposing the thing, too, and being the bestfigure of all to do it. Ta, ta, ladies! We shall meet again--at feedingtime. Eh, Alfy? I mean Miss Babcock!"
"Huh! Don't you think I didn't notice 't you ate more 'n anybody else ofthe crackers and cheese. Good-by!"
They separated, the girls to their own rooms to freshen themselves forthe evening and for a long talk over the delights of this wonderfulsummer; yet in all their happiness, a deep regret was in their warmhearts for Jim Barlow's absence and the wish that they might know wherehe was and that he was well.
The lads sought Mateo in his room, and though the valet pretendedslumber he was promptly roused by the energetic attentions of hisvisitors.
"Look here, Mateo, we know you're shamming. The fact is that aftergetting us all wrought up to this bear business and agreeing to take thechief part, you're afraid. Either you think the 'boys'll' get livelywith their shooting-irons and hunt the bear too well, or else--I don'tknow what else. Only this, you can't pretend to be hoodooed or'bewitched' with any of Wun Sing's omelettes. That's all up. Thedoctor's taken a hand in that and I know it isn't indigestion you'rebewitched with--it's plain sneak. Now, boy, get up!"
After Leslie's long speech, that ended in the terse command, Mateoraised himself on elbow and protested:
"But it is of the illness, I, senor, _en verdad_. The omelette of WunSing--"
"May have been a little too rich for you, Matty lad, but don't worry.That wonderful fowl has shortened her life by her own ambition. Isuppose she had a certain number of eggs to lay during her earthlycareer and she concluded to get the job over with. She's an all rightChinee hen, but _she's_ the one that'll die, not you nor Wunny Sing.Doctor Jones said so. We've interviewed him on the subject. Doctors knowa lot. So, be decent! Get up and practise a bit."
Thus adjured by Herbert, for whom the valet had a great admiration,Mateo threw off the light covers and rose to his feet--fully dressed. Hehad only lain down, professing himself ill, whenever there was danger ofhis young master appearing.
With a swift change of front, he now fell in with the lads' notions, andthereafter followed an hour of "practice," accompani
ed by curious soundsand growlings. All this behind locked door and tightly shutteredwindows--something almost unknown at peaceful San Leon.
At supper time there was a subdued air of mystery about the three lads,which Dorothy noticed, if none of the other girls did. Also, they wereso extremely courteous and thoughtful that it was rather overdone.However, politeness was agreeable, and there followed the happiestevening the young guests had spent since the departure of Gray Lady forthe east.
The fading moonlight was now supplemented by the electric lights, makingthe wide lawns brilliant as day, save where the deep shadows fell, blackin contrast. At midnight, Dorothy awoke. Something had startled her andshe sat up in bed, shivering in fear. How queer! she thought and peeredthrough the window as if expecting some unwelcome sight. There wasnothing unusual visible and, except for a curious creeping sound, as ofsome large body moving stealthily on the veranda floor, nothing tohear.
Strange that brave Dorothy's heart should beat so fast and she turn socold. She wished Alfy would awake. She wanted to hear somebody speak.Then she scorned herself for her foolishness, wondering if she, too, hadcaught the Chinaman's terror of "bewitchment." Oh! this was horrid! Alfywould go right to sleep again, even if she were awakened, and she must,she must hear somebody human!
She opened her trembling lips to call: "Alfy! Alfy dear, please wakeup!"
But the words were never uttered. Something had come into view at heropen window which froze them on her lips.