Part 4

The woods were not regular picnic grounds, and therefore the children knew there would be no tables, and as they wanted to do everything correctly and comfortably, they would meet the deficiency by taking their own. Five cutting-tables had been borrowed from their mothers; these would be folded over and put in the bottom of the wagon, and four persons could easily sit at each. The boys would arrange the seats, which, more than likely, would be the wagon seats, built to the requisite height by supporting each end on a pile of stones, or they might find convenient rocks, or take the rails from the post-and-rail fence adjoining. Should they decide on the latter, they would be put in place again when luncheon was over. Milk, lemonade, ice, and even ice-cream were to be carried; for some of the girls were excellent ice-cream-makers, and everybody would get so warm playing games and rushing around continually that ice-cream would be in demand.

That plated spoons, forks, etc., would be used, "so as to save worry," Mariette explained, and that Japanese napkins would do double duty, as they would also serve as table-cloths; besides they were pretty, and really dressed a table, and there was no fuss about their laundering afterwards, and her mother had said, "Maids should be considered as well as mistresses in such warm sultry weather."

All the sandwiches would be neatly wrapped in white tissue or waxed paper, and the thin wooden platters would be far more suitable for picnic purposes than delicate dainty china, as no one would be afraid of chipping them; and, besides, they were so light, "the horses would be glad," Mariette was sure.

"What's the harm of burning them when we are through, and the napkins, for that matter!" was Laura's interjection.

But the more thoughtful Mariette replied, "No harm, if we don't set the woods on fire."

It was thought best to put all the lunches, wraps, etc., in one wagon, and the picnickers would go in the other. Trusty drivers were going with the wagons, and the men were to keep watch all day, and be ready to help in whatever capacity necessity would require.

The atmosphere for the picnic proved perfect, and the girls' laughing sunbrowned faces and tangled curls testified to their having had a jolly day, while the boys' gay raillery, frequent cheers, and fern-trimmed hats showed that they were not left rearward when the fun was going around.

Long before the wagons were in sight the children were heard, for song followed song all the way back, they explained.

"It seems as if I was a boy again," said an old man, as the words "We'll not go home till morning" reached us, just before the wagons came in sight.

And when, with springing feet, the merry girls and boys jumped out, they were all so earnest to tell the story of the day that everybody talked at once. However, we learned that games were their chief sport, and that the rope now taken out of the wagon was first used for the Crown Game:

A girl enters the ring; all the others take firm hold of the rope. No sooner is she in than they skip about her, keeping the rope in motion. As they skip they sing, to the tune of "Auld Lang-syne,"

"Who'll crown our queen, our merry queen, Who'll crown our queen to-day? Who'll crown our queen, our merry queen, Who'll crown our queen to-day?"

When this is sung the children stop skipping just where they are. And at once one of the boys puts his head under the rope, and, standing by the queen, replies, "I will." Then raising a crown of wild flowers, he puts it on her head. No sooner is she crowned than she blindfolds the boy, and another girl enters, thus making two girls in the ring. The game is to "tag" the right girl before the other players count nine. When the boy "tags" the girl, he must at once say whether or not she is the queen, and if he makes a mistake he must remain in the ring and try again. The first girl withdraws, the second girl is crowned queen, and the game is repeated. But should he make no mistake, the boy remains in the ring, is crowned king, and the game goes on, only that two boys are in the ring when a girl is blindfolded.

Another rope game was called the Guess.

Put a rope on the ground in the form of a circle; in the centre put a stone about the size of a duck's egg. The players stand backwards around the rope, with their heels touching it. Each one in turn throws a grace-hoop over his right shoulder, with the hope it will encircle the stone. As soon as the hoop is thrown all may turn and see the position. If the hoop encircles the stone the player may try again and again, until he fails, counting one for each time. Then the party to his right tries, and so on all around the rope. Whoever has the largest count wins the game.

This game is also played facing the stone; it is then no longer a game of guess, but a game of skill.

After the rope games, one of the boys taught a German game called Urbar, which he said was really a play on the word bear.

Every one excepting the boy who was instructor, and who was now known as Bear, twisted and knitted their handkerchiefs. The Bear selected a tree as starting-point, and stated his object would be to tag the others, and that whoever was tagged would become a Bear, and would have to return to the tree, pursued and beaten all the way back with the knotted handkerchiefs. The two Bears then join hands, and starting out, try to tag every one that is possible, and this action is repeated until all the players are Bears. Whenever the chain of Bears is broken, as it sometimes is by an attack from the rear, the Bears again return to the tree.

This game was followed by the Jolly Dinner:

Each girl in succession led a boy to a position to dance a reel.

First girl then said to first boy, "This is my flower to decorate the table," and she gave the boy a flower, which he put in his button-hole.

Second girl to second boy, "This is my flower to decorate the table," and giving him a different flower, he put it in his button-hole.

Third girl to third boy, "You tread clams for dinner," and the boy made the motion of treading for clams.

Fourth girl to fourth boy, "You catch trout for dinner," and the boy made believe he was a fly-fisherman.

Fifth girl to fifth boy, "You get lamb to roast," and the boy called. "Bah! bah!"

Sixth girl to sixth boy, "You get the turkey to roast," and the boy gave the call of a turkey-gobbler.

Seventh girl to seventh boy, "You shoot the duck for roasting," and the boy called, "Quack! quack!"

Eighth girl to eighth boy, "You are my pigeon to bake in a pie," and the boy flapped his arms, in imitation of wings.

Ninth girl to ninth boy, "You are the baker, and must make our cake," and the boy pretended to beat eggs.

Tenth girl to tenth boy, "You are the young man who grinds good coffee," and he acted as if turning the crank of a coffee-mill.

As soon as the tenth boy responded, those who received flowers whistled "Yankee Doodle"; all the others danced a reel, repeating their calls and motions while dancing.

This game caused so much hilarity that one of the boys proposed that childish game and old favorite the Mulberry Bush, and joining hands around a bush, they sang out loud and clear, "Here we go around the mulberry bush so early in the morning." Then they pretended they were sewing, and sang, "This is the way we sew our clothes, so early in the morning." And so on, adding verse after verse.

"So it's no wonder I feel tired now," one of the girls explained, "for, besides these games, we had tennis and archery matches. Indeed, we had nothing but fun all day long."

A COUNTRY BOY'S SOLILOQUY.

BY CLARA LOUISE ANGEL.

When the blackbird twitters blithely on the school-room window-sill, And I hear the cattle lowing from the pasture on the hill, When the hollyhocks are peeping through the widely open door, And the sunshine flickers through the leaves across the school-room floor, My truant mind don't seem inclined to work this endless sum: I'm a-wishin' I were fishin', and vacation days had come.

I long to roam about the fields, to ride on loads of hay. To pluck the yellow buttercups that grow beside the way, To hunt for eggs, go berrying, and vault the meadow fence; But oh! the joy to fill your heart with pleasure most intense: _To bait your hook beside the brook, where little trout appear!_ How I'm wishin' I were fishin', and vacation days were here!

When the holidays have come at last, like happy golden dreams, I'll speed away, all blithe and gay, and seek the meadow streams. Oh, then my mind will be at peace; my hours will be sublime-- Though _now_ I'm groaning over books, but thinkin' all the time Of little trout that dart about beneath the waters clear, And a-wishin' I were fishin', and vacation days were here!

HELD CAPTIVE BY SAVAGES.

BY CAPTAIN HOWARD PATTERSON.

Few boys are ever called upon to go through such an experience as fell to the lot of John Jewett, and it is safe to claim that no boy of his age would have shown a braver spirit than he exhibited during his three years' captivity among the savages.

The ship _Boston_, belonging to the port of that name, commanded by Captain John Salter, sailed a good many years ago for a trading voyage to the then little-visited northwest coast of America. The hero of this story had been apprenticed to his father, a shipsmith of Boston, but developing a longing to see the world, obtained his parents' consent to ship as an armorer on board of Captain Salter's vessel. After the usual boisterous Cape Horn passage, the _Boston_ ran into the fine weather of the Pacific, and made a speedy voyage to Nootka Sound, coming to anchor in a sheltered cove close to the principal village on the coast.

As soon as the ship was moored, the King of the country went on board and welcomed Captain Salter warmly, promising that he would bring off for trade many furs, seal-skins, and other articles. The ruler of this section of Nootka Sound was known as King Maquina. He was over six feet in height, powerfully built, and possessed good features; but his face and body were made hideous by being smeared with stripes of white, black, and red paint. His long black hair fairly reeked with oil, and through a hole cut below the under lip a ring of ivory dangled. The dress of this chieftain was composed of a splendid otter-skin cloak reaching to the knees, and a head-dress of various colored feathers. On each arm above the elbow were several circles of copper, and around the ankles were strapped a number of small bells which jingled as he walked. Having been frequently visited by trading captains, he had picked up enough English to make himself understood in that language. Vessels bringing firearms, knives, hatchets, and fancy articles in the way of beads, bells, etc., were sure of carrying away, in exchange, valuable furs and skins. For several days after bartering had commenced the natives continued to bring on board otter and other furs. Large quantities of salmon, duck, and geese were also exchanged for trinkets, which were highly prized by the natives.

About a fortnight after the arrival of the ship it became evident that the Indians had traded their available stock, so preparations were made to leave this part of the coast. It is probable that Captain Salter and the King would have parted in a friendly way had not the former's greed led him to speak disrespectfully to the proud savage. The cause of the trouble was a fowling-piece which Maquina wished to obtain, but for which he was unwilling to pay the price demanded, being nothing less than the elegant cloak that covered his person. Thinking to bring the King to terms, the master told him that he would not deal with him ever again, and ordered him to leave the cabin and quit the ship with all his people. Maquina made no reply to the Captain, but his countenance expressed the rage he felt. Going to the side of the vessel to regain his canoe, he met the boy John, who was at work at his forge near the gangway. The King had taken a great fancy to the young armorer on account of the latter having mended a number of broken implements belonging to the royal collection, as well as having made in his presence a finely shaped tomahawk, with which the admiring chief had been presented. Seeing the fierce looks of the King, John asked him the cause. Maquina explained the trouble, and during the recital frequently clutched his neck and smoothed his breast, explaining that this performance was necessary to keep down his angry heart, which was rising in his throat and choking him.

The following morning, while the mate and a number of the men were on shore filling the water-casks, the King came off to the ship with a present of a fine salmon for the Captain, and appeared to be very cheerful and friendly. Shortly after this a number of canoes paddled alongside, their occupants holding up various things which they offered to trade. One by one, on various pretexts, they climbed over the rail, until there were about fifty of them on the deck. Maquina spoke to John, asking him to fix the lock of his gun, which he said he had broken. Entering the carpenter's work-room to get a screw-driver, John found the door quietly closed upon him, and secured from the outside so that exit was impossible. Almost immediately a frightful warwhoop and the sound of a scuffle on the deck proved that the savages had turned against the crew. At the end of two or three minutes Maquina opened the door and said:

"You, John, no hurt--heap good boy--make plenty spear--come."

As the young armorer held back, not knowing but what it was the intention of the savages to murder him as soon as he should appear, the King added, impatiently:

"What for no come? No hurt you--heap plenty all dead. King him save you make plenty gun--you come."

When John, sick at heart, followed Maquina outside, he saw the natives throwing overboard the mutilated bodies of the crew. Concerning John they had evidently been posted by the chief, for when they caught sight of the boy they patted him on the head and shoulders, and turned the palms of their hands toward him as signs of friendship. John was now directed to enter the King's canoe, which, followed by several others, paddled to that part of the coast, about two miles distant, where a stream of fresh water emptied into the bay, and to which the mate and sailors had gone just after breakfast with the water-casks. It was only when the boats neared the spot that John realized the mission of the painted savages, whose restless eyes swept the length of the beach, while their sinewy arms plied the paddles that drove their boats of bark with surprising quickness over the smooth water. The ship's launch was soon made out hauled up on the white sand, but the crew were nowhere in sight, and it was evident that they were hidden by the bushes that fringed the beach. Before the canoes had effected a landing the mate and his men emerged from the undergrowth, rolling the water-casks in the direction of the boat. Catching sight of the little fleet that now, at a sign from the chief, advanced slowly toward them, the seamen halted suspiciously; but Maquina waved a green branch before him as a token that his errand was one of peace, and the sailors started down to the beach to meet them.

Up to this time John had remained passive, crushed under the recollection of the awful end that had overtaken the Captain and men who had remained on board; but now, resolved to warn his shipmates even at the risk of his life, he jumped to his feet, waved his arms to attract their attention, and was about to cry to them, when a blow from the King's war-club upon the back of his head tumbled him senseless into the bottom of the canoe. When John opened his eyes some time after this, it was to meet Maquina's triumphant gaze, and to hear that individual say:

"How John? Now can make heap noise--no hear--all dead. Maquina he plenty big chief."

When the canoes returned to the village they were met by the entire population, who welcomed them with shouts of joy and war-songs chanted to an accompaniment played on their tomtoms, these instruments consisting of the dry skin of a seal stretched over a hollow shape of wood. Towards John the kindest treatment was shown, but the King explained that he was a slave, and that he must obey his orders and not try to escape, otherwise he would be given to the old women to be tortured. The chief wound up his harangue in this way: "Much good boy John. Maquina plenty big chief--heap friends. John make spear, make gun, make heap plenty all Maquina. No never go way--stay old man--heap good. Ugh!"

Finding that he was free to go about as he pleased, John threw his tired and aching body down under a tree, and surrendered his mind to bitter reflections. Only a few hours before yonder ship had been animated with a happy crew, speculating, as they worked, about the queer presents they proposed to purchase for friends and sweethearts when the ship arrived in the pig-tailed kingdom, for it had been Captain Salter's intention to proceed to China for a cargo of tea after trading with the Indians. Now the only human beings on board the ill-fated _Boston_ were the savages left by the King to guard the great treasure that made Maquina the richest lord among all the chiefs on the northwest coast. Throughout the long afternoon the boy was left alone to nurse his sorrow and despair. He knew that few vessels visited this far-away, uncivilized land, and that years might elapse without offering him a chance of escape from his captors. Mother and father would long wait for his return. Brothers and sisters were likely to grow to manhood and womanhood without seeing the brother they remembered last as a sailor-boy, kissing them good-by beneath the vine-encircled porch of their modest home on the morning when the good ship _Boston_ opened her white wings and glided out of the harbor to the hearty chorusing of the seamen as they pulled upon the ropes.

When evening came, the King, who had been on board the vessel, approached the boy, saying:

"John come--plenty eat--sleep Maquina's tepee. To-morrow make big tomahawk chop off head--Maquina heap big chief."

Whereupon the King took John by the hand and led him to his hut, inside of which the chief's wives had arranged the evening meal. To please the King, poor John made a show of eating; then asked permission to lie down on one of the skins scattered around on the floor, to which request Maquina nodded an assent, and the boy stretched his tired limbs upon the rug, and in spite of his aching head, soon fell asleep. He was awakened by the King prodding him with the handle of his spear. For a few moments the strangeness of his surroundings dazed him, then, with the larger recovery of his faculties, the bitter truth was forced upon him. Choking back a sob, he returned Maquina's salutation, and followed him out of the hut to find that the morning had come and that the village was astir. After breakfast the King told John that he was to accompany him to the ship and bring the forge on shore, explaining his purpose in this way:

"Get iron fire--plenty iron--make heap things--get heap sail--heap things--burn ship so no can find--good--Maquina heap rich--plenty much gun--fight--kill--big chief. Ugh!"

Here he smote his breast, and strutted about in a lordly way until he caught sight of one of his wives taking a drink out of a decanter of rum that had stood on the Captain's table, and which the King had brought on shore as a precious find. Calling her a "peshak," which signifies a very bad woman, Maquina threw his spear at her, with the effect of knocking the bottle from her hand and breaking it on the ground. Forgetting kingly demeanor in his rage, he next hurled his war-club after the screaming woman, narrowly missing her head.

"Squaw bad--much whip," grunted the King, as he surveyed the broken glass and the little pool of liquor fast being absorbed into the earth. For a moment he eyed it wistfully, then got down on his knees and sucked up a mouthful of the spirit, after which he received back his spear and club from an obsequious attendant, rewarding his subject and relieving his own outraged feelings by giving the poor savage a rap across the back that sent him flying from the royal presence.

Upon going on board the _Boston_ the chief entered the cabin to ransack the officers' rooms, and John descended into the hold in order to obtain a number of bars of iron with which to make the spear-heads and the like. While getting them slung for hoisting on deck he heard his name pronounced in a Christian voice, and looking in the direction of the sound, saw the dishevelled sail-maker of the ship. He had been in the 'tweendecks when the massacre occurred, where he had hastened half dressed from his bunk at the time of the attack. In a few words he was made acquainted with the story of the tragedy; then John told him that as everything was to be at once removed from the vessel, his hiding-place would soon be discovered, but that he had a plan by which he hoped to save his life, and for him to conceal himself again while he would go on deck and talk with the King. Entering the officers' quarters, John found the chief had togged himself out in the Captain's clothes and was in excellent humor as he proudly surveyed himself in the looking-glass which encased the mizzenmast where it passed through the cabin. Throwing himself on his knees before the King, John said that he had found his father, the sail-maker, alive, and begged that his life might be spared, claiming that his parent would make a great white house out of the ship's sails, and that this would be so beautiful as to cause all the other chiefs in the land to die of envy. Maquina appeared greatly pleased, and promised that "John's father" should not be harmed. Going on deck he addressed his men, telling them the story, and ordered John to call the sail-maker on deck. The old man made his way up the ladder and kneeled before the Chief, who lifted him up, saying:

"How John's Father? Maquina no kill--make plenty white tepee--make heap canoe sail--heap good. Ugh!"

Several days later, when everything of value to the savages had been carried on shore, the vessel was set on fire. That night on shore in Maquina's tent, dressed in the remnants of some hunter's costume, the sail-maker smoked the pipe of peace with the King, and made his position in the camp as secure as John's.