Laura Lee Hope - Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue in the Big Woods
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Laura Lee Hope >> Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue in the Big Woods
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On the way along the lake road to Camp Rest-a-While they passed a
farmyard where many geese, ducks, turkeys and chickens were kept. Just
as Sue, who happened to be wearing a red dress, came near the yard, a
big turkey gobbler, who seemed to be the king of the barnyard, rushed to
the gate, managed to push his way through the crack, and, a moment
later, was attacking Sue, biting her legs with his strong beak, now
pulling at her red dress, and occasionally flying up from the ground
trying to strike his claws into her face.
"Oh dear!" cried the little girl. "Won't somebody please help me? Drive
him away, Bunny!"
"I will!" cried her little brother, and, catching up a stick, he bravely
rushed at the angry turkey gobbler.
CHAPTER XVII
SUE DECIDES TO MAKE A PIE
"Here. You're too little for such a job as this!" cried Tom, as he
stepped in front of Bunny. "That's an old, tough bird and he's a born
fighter. Better let me tackle him."
Bunny was a brave little boy, but when he saw how large and fierce the
gobbler was his heart failed him a little. The big Thanksgiving bird
just then made a furious rush at Sue, and as she jumped back Tom stepped
up in her place. The turkey did not seem to mind whom he attacked, as
long as it was some one, though probably Sue's red dress had excited him
in the first place, though why bulls and turkeys should not like red I
can not tell you.
"Look out, Tom!" called Bunny. "He's a bad one!"
"He certainly is fierce all right," answered Tom. "He's coming with a
rush!"
As he spoke the turkey made a rush for him, keeping off the ground with
outstretched wings and claws. He went: "Gobble-obble-obble!" in loud
tones as though trying to scare the children.
Tom was ready with a heavy stick he had caught up, and as the big bird
sailed at him through the air the lad aimed a blow at the gobbler.
But the turkey seemed to be on the lookout for this, and dodged. Then,
before Tom could get ready for another blow, the gobbler landed back of
the lad, and came on with another rush.
"Look out!" cried Bunny, but his warning came too late. The turkey
landed on Tom's back and began nipping and clawing him.
"Get off! Get off!" cried the poorhouse lad, trying in vain to reach up
with his club and hit the gobbler hard enough to knock him to the
ground.
But Tom's club was of little use, with the big bird on his back. Bunny
saw this and cried:
"Wait a minute and I'll throw some stones at him."
"You might hit Tom instead of the gobbler," said Sue, who was safe out
of harm's way behind a big pile of wood. "Don't throw any stones,
Bunny."
"No, you'd better not," said Tom. "I'll try to shake him off."
So he rushed about here and there, swaying his back from side to side,
trying to make the turkey fall off. But the gobbler had fastened his
claws in the back of Tom's ragged coat, and there he clung, now and then
nipping with his strong bill Tom's head and neck.
"Here comes Splash!" cried Bunny. "He'll soon make that turkey gobbler
behave."
Up the sandy beach of the lake shore came Splash racing. He had stopped
to look at a little crayfish, and it had nipped his nose, so Splash was
not feeling any too pleasant. Most of you children know that a crayfish
is like a little lobster.
"Here, Splash! Splash!" cried Bunny. "Come and drive this bad turkey off
Tom!"
"Bow-wow!" barked the big dog, as he came running.
"Tell him to hurry," begged Tom. "I can't shake him off and he's biting
deep into my neck. I'm feared he'll bore a hole in it!"
"Hurry up, Splash! Hurry up!" urged Bunny.
"Bow-wow!" barked Splash again, which, I suppose, was his way of saying
he would.
On he came, and, all this while, the gobbler was on top of Tom's back,
gobbling away, fluttering his wings and now and then making savage pecks
at the boy's shoulders and neck.
"Splash will make him go away," said Bunny. "Splash likes you now, Tom.
He's a friend of yours, for he shook hands, and he'll do anything you
want."
"Well, all I want is for him to get this gobbler off me," said the
ragged boy.
"Hi, Splash!" cried Bunny. "Get at this bad gobbler!"
Splash rushed up to Tom, and then, raising up on his hind legs, nipped
at the gobbler. The big bird made a louder noise than ever, and suddenly
jumped down from Tom's back.
"Ha! I knew you'd do it!" cried Bunny in delight. But just then
something queer happened.
Splash, seeing the bird flop down to the ground, made a dash for the
gobbler with open mouth, barking the while.
"Now watch that old gobbler run!" cried Bunny, capering about.
But instead it was Splash that ran. Unable to stand the sight of the big
bird, with outspread and drooping wings, with all his feathers puffed
out to make him look twice as large as he really was, and with an angry
"Gobble-obble-obble" coming from his beak, Splash ran. It was no wonder,
for the turkey was a terrifying sight. I think even a tiger, a lion or
perhaps an elephant would have run.
"Come back! Come back, Splash!" called Bunny. "We want you to drive the
turkey gobbler away from us."
But the gobbler was already going away. He was going right after Splash,
who was running down the road as fast as he could go.
"Well, we're all right," said Tom. "That bird won't bother us any more."
"And I hope he doesn't come for me," said Sue. "He scared me."
"But what about poor Splash?" asked Bunny quickly. "He'll scare our
nice dog awful."
"Splash seems to be getting away," remarked Tom, rubbing the place in
the back of his neck where the turkey had nipped him.
"Oh! Oh, dear!" cried Bunny. "Look what's happening now. Splash is
coming back this way and the turkey is coming with him. Oh, what shall
we do?"
"He won't bother us as long as he has Splash to chase," said Tom.
"But I don't want him to chase Splash!" said Bunny.
The children watched what happened.
Splash, with the turkey close behind him, was running back to a spot in
front of the barn, where Bunny, his sister Sue and Tom were standing.
Just as the dog reached there the turkey caught him by the tail.
And I just wish you could have heard Splash howl! No, on second
thoughts, it is just as well you did not. For you love animals, I am
sure, and you do not like to see them in pain. And Splash was certainly
in pain or he would not have howled the way he did. And I think if a
big, strong turkey gobbler had hold of your tail, and was pulling as
hard as he could, you would have howled too. That is, if you had a tail.
Anyhow Splash howled and tried to swing around so he could bite the
gobbler, but the big bird kept out of reach.
"Oh, what can we do?" asked Sue.
"Get sticks and beat the gobbler!" cried Tom.
"No, wait. I know a better way," said Bunny.
"What?" asked his sister.
"I'll show you," answered the little boy. He had seen on the green lawn
of the farmhouse a water hose. It was attached to a faucet near the
ground and the water came from a big tank on the house into which it was
pumped by a gasolene engine.
Bunny ran to the hose. The water was turned off at the nozzle, but it
was the same kind of nozzle as the one on the Brown's hose at home, so
Bunny knew how to work it.
In an instant he turned the nozzle, and aimed the hose at the turkey
which still had hold of the poor dog's tail.
All over the turkey splashed the water, and as the big bird tried to
gobble, and keep hold of Splash's tail at the same time, and as the
water went down its throat, the noise, instead of "Gobble-obble-obble,"
sounded like "Gurgle-urgle-urgle."
"There! Take that!" cried Bunny squirting the water over the turkey.
"That will make you stop pulling dogs' tails, I guess."
Indeed the water was too much for the gobbler. He let go of Splash's
tail, for which the dog was very thankful, and then the big bird ran
toward the farmyard, just as the farmer came out to see what all the
trouble was about.
"I had to splash your turkey to make him let go of our dog," explained
Bunny.
"Oh, that's all right," answered the farmer. "I guess that bird is a
leetle better off for being cooled down. Glad you did it. None of you
hurt, I hope?"
"My neck's picked a bit," said Tom.
"Well, come in and I'll have my wife put some salve on it."
"No, thank you, we're in a hurry to get home," said Bunny. "My mother
has some goose grease."
"Well, that's just as good, I reckon. Next time I'll keep the old
gobbler locked up."
Mr. Brown was at home, when Bunny, Sue and the ragged boy reached the
tent. The father and mother listened while Bunny and Sue explained what
had happened, from going into the cave to the turkey gobbler.
"Well, you had quite a number of adventures," said Mr. Brown. "I stayed
out fishing by myself longer than I meant to, and when I came back to
get you I find you just coming in. We'll go this afternoon."
"And may Tom come too?"
"I guess so," answered Mr. Brown.
"I know where there's lots of places to fish," said Tom.
Mr. Brown talked it over with his wife after dinner, and they decided to
let Tom stay in camp and do a little work, such as cutting the wood and
bringing the water.
"But what do you suppose he means by saying that Mr. Bixby sticks
needles into him?" asked Mrs. Brown.
"That's what I'll have to look into," said her husband. "The hermit
seems to be a queer sort of chap."
"And Bunny finding one of his cars, too!"
"Yes, that was queer. This will certainly have to be looked into."
In a few moments after this conversation Sue came from behind the
kitchen tent.
"Come on, Sue, we're going fishing," called Bunny to his sister.
"No; you and Tom can go with father," said the little girl, "I'm not
coming."
"Why not? Are you 'fraid?"
"Course not, Bunny Brown! I'm just going to stay in camp and make a pie.
Tom said he hadn't had one for a good while. I'm going to make him one."
"All right. Make me one too, please," said Bunny. "We're going after
some fish," and with his pole and line he started down toward the lake
with his father and Tom.
CHAPTER XVIII
ROASTING CORN
"Now, Bunny, be careful when getting into the boat," said his father.
Bunny turned and looked at his father. What Bunny thought, but did not
say, was:
"Why, Daddy! I've gotten into boats lots of times before, I guess I can
get in now." That is what Bunny Brown did not say.
But, in a way, Bunny's father was talking to the ragged boy, Tom, and
not to Bunny. For Mr. Brown did not yet know how much Tom might know
about boats, and as the boy was a big lad, almost as tall as Uncle Tad
himself, Mr. Brown did not want to seem rude and give a lesson to a boy
who might not need it. So though he pretended it was Bunny about whom he
was anxious, all the while it was about Tom.
"Oh, I'll be careful, Daddy," said Bunny. "And you be careful too, Tom.
You don't want to fall in and get drowned, do you?"
"No indeed I don't, Bunny. Though it would be pretty hard to drown me. I
can swim like a muskrat. And I can row a boat, too, Mr. Brown," he went
on. "I've worked for Mr. Wilson, the man who owns the pavilion at the
other end of the lake. I used to row excursion parties about the lake,
and there isn't a cove or a bay I don't know, as well as where the good
fishing places are."
"I found one of those myself this morning," said Mr. Brown, with a
smile.
"Well, I wish you'd let me row you to some others that hardly any one
but myself knows about."
"I shall be glad to have you," said Bunny's father. "And I'm glad you
understand a boat. I shan't be worried when Bunny and his sister Sue are
out with you."
"I can row myself a little, when you are with me, Daddy," said Bunny.
"Yes, but you'll have a chance to learn more with Tom, as I haven't time
to teach you. So I'm going to depend on you, Tom."
"Yes, sir, and I'll take good care of 'em. I've lived near this lake all
my life, and when my folks died and I went to the poorhouse in the
Winter, and worked out in the Summer, I managed to get to the lake part
of the time. I'll look after the children all right."
Mr. Brown did not need to ask anything further what Tom knew of a boat,
once the ragged boy took his seat and picked up the oars. He handled
them just as well as Mr. Brown could himself.
"Do you want me to row you to any particular place?" asked Tom.
"Well, some place where we can get some fish. I suppose Bunny would like
to land a few."
"I want to catch a whole lot of fish, Daddy!" cried Bunny. "So row me to
a place where there's lots of 'em!"
"All right, here we go!" and Tom bent his back to the oars, so that the
boat was soon skimming swiftly over the water. Mr. Brown liked the way
the big boy managed the boat, and he knew he would feel safe when Bunny
and Sue were out with Tom.
Meanwhile, on shore, in the shade of the cooking tent, Sue was busy with
her pie.
"I want to make a mince one, for daddy likes that kind," said Sue. "And
I want to have it ready for them when they come home from fishing.
Though I don't see what he wants of any more fish," she added, as she
glanced at a little pool near the edge of the lake where, in a fish-car,
the fish Mr. Brown had caught while out alone that morning were
swimming. They could not get out of the car, or box, which had netting
on the side.
"He is going to take some of them back to the city with him in the
morning," said Mrs. Brown. "He wants to give them to his friends. Those
he and Bunny and Tom catch this afternoon, will be for our supper, Sue."
"I like Tom, don't you, Mother?" asked Sue, as she put on a long apron
in readiness to bake her pie.
"Yes, he seems like a nice boy. But it's very queer that the hermit
should stick needles into him."
"But they weren't _real_ needles," said Sue. "He never could see them.
He only felt them. They must have been fairy needles, for Tom could
never see them being pulled out, either."
"Well, we'll let your father look after that," said Mrs. Brown. "Now
we'll bake your pie and I'll make the pudding and cake I have to get
ready for the Sunday dinner."
Whenever Mrs. Brown baked she always let Sue do something--make a
patty-cake, a little pie with some of the left-over crust from a big
one, or, perhaps, bake a pan of cookies. Mrs. Brown would let Susie use
some of the dough or pie crust already made up, or she would stand
beside her little girl and tell her what to do.
To-day Mrs. Brown did a little of both. She, herself, baked several
pies, as well as two cakes, and as there was plenty of pie crust left
Mrs. Brown told Sue how to roll some out in a smooth, thin sheet, and
lay it over a tin.
"The next thing to do," said Mrs. Brown, "is to put the mince-meat in on
the bottom-crust, put another sheet of pie crust on top, cut some holes
in it so the steam can get out, trim off the edges, nice and smooth, and
set the pie in the oven.
"Roll out your top pie crust and you'll find the mince-meat in a glass
jar in the cupboard, next to a jar of peaches. And don't forget to cut
holes in your top crust."
Sue started to do all this. Just then, a neighboring farmer's wife
called at the tent, with fresh eggs to sell, and, as she needed some,
Mrs. Brown went to see about buying a dozen.
"Go on with your pie, Sue," she called. "I'll be back in a minute."
"Let me see," said the little girl to herself. "I have the bottom crust
in the tin, the top crust is all rolled out, and now I need the
mince-meat. I'll get it."
From a glass jar which she brought from the cupboard, next to a jar of
peaches, Sue poured very carefully into the bottom crust some dark stuff
that had a most delicious spicy odor.
"Um-m, that mince-meat is good and strong!" said Sue. "Daddy will be
sure to love it."
She spread out the filling evenly and then put on the top crust with the
little holes cut in to let out the steam when the pie should be baking
in the oven.
Just as Sue was finishing trimming off what, was left over of the crust,
Mrs. Brown came back from buying the eggs.
"Oh, you have your pie finished!" exclaimed Sue's mother. "You got ahead
of me. Well, I'll put it in the oven for you, as you might burn
yourself. And then I'll get on with _my_ baking."
"And I really made this pie all my own self; didn't I?" asked Sue,
eagerly.
"Indeed you did, all but making the crust. And you'll soon be able to do
that," said her mother. "Now we must finish our baking."
The afternoon passed very quickly for Sue and her mother, but just as
the last cookies, which Sue helped to make, were taken out of the oven,
a lovely brown, and smelling so delicious, Bunny, his father and Tom
came back from their fishing trip.
"Is the pie baked, Sue?" asked Bunny, who was tired, hungry and dirty.
"There are certainly pies baked, and other things too, if my nose can
smell anything!" cried Daddy Brown. "Now then we'll clean the fish and
have them for supper."
"Please let me clean them," said Tom. "I used to work for a fish man and
I know how to do it quick."
"That isn't the only thing you can do quickly," said Mr. Brown, with a
smile. "The way you caught that fish which got loose from Bunny's hook
to-day showed how quick you were."
"Oh, I've done that before," said the tall lad with a laugh. "I like to
fish."
"And he's very good at it," said Mr. Brown to his wife as he and Bunny
began to wash. "He took me to a number of quiet coves, and we got some
big fish. Bunny caught the prize of the day, and it would have got loose
from its hook if Tom had not slipped a net under it in time. Bunny was
delighted."
"I'm glad of that. But what about this boy? Are we going to keep him
with us?"
"I think so, for a while. He'll be useful about the camp, now that I
have to be away so much. And, too, he's perfectly safe with the
children. He'll look well after them. Besides I want to look into this
queer story he tells about the hermit Bixby and the needles."
"Do you think there is anything in it?"
"Well, there may be--and something queer, too. I want to find out what
it is. Tom can sleep in that little extra tent we brought. Now how is
supper coming on? Can I help?"
"No, I think Uncle Tad has done everything but clean the fish, and----
"Here comes Tom with them now," said Mrs. Brown. "And you must be sure
to speak of Sue's pie."
"I will. That little girl is getting to be a regular housekeeper. She'll
soon have your place," and Mr. Brown shook his finger at his wife.
Tom brought up the cleaned and washed fish. Mrs. Brown dried them in old
towels, dipped them in batter and soon they were frying in the pan. By
this time the cakes and pies were set out, and in a little while supper
was ready.
And how good those freshly caught fish tasted! Bunny declared his was
the best, and really it did seem so, for it was a splendid bass.
"And now for my pie," said Sue, as Mrs. Brown set it on the table. "I
want you all to have some, and a big piece for Tom, 'cause he saved
Bunny's fish."
Mrs. Brown cut the pie and passed it around. As she did so she looked
carefully at the pie and the pieces.
"Isn't there enough, Mother?" asked Sue, anxiously.
"Oh, yes. But I was just thinking----"
At that moment Bunny, who had taken rather a large bite, cried:
"What kind of pie did you say this was, Sue?"
"Mince, of course."
"It tastes more like spiced pickles to me. Doesn't it to you, Tom?"
"Oh, I don't know. It tastes lots better than the pie we got to the
poorhouse. I can tell you that!"
Mr. Brown, who had tasted his piece, made a funny face.
"Are you sure you put enough sugar in?" he asked Sue.
"You don't have to put sugar in mince-meat--it's already in," answered
his little girl.
Mrs. Brown took a taste of Sue's pie. She, too, made a funny face, and
then she asked: "Where did you get the jar of mince-meat, Sue?"
"From the cupboard where you told me, Momsie, next to the glass jar of
peaches."
"On which side of the jar of peaches?"
"Let me see--it was the side I write my letters with--my right hand,
Mother."
"Oh dear!" cried Mrs. Brown. "I should have told you! But the egg woman
came just then. I should have told you the left side of the jar of
peaches. On the right side was a jar of pickled chow-chow. It looks a
lot like mince-meat, I know, but it is quite different. The real
mince-meat was on the _left_ of the peach jar. Oh, Sue! You've made your
pie of chow-chow."
"I was thinking Sue had found out a new kind of pie," said Daddy Brown.
"Never mind, there are some cakes and cookies."
"Oh, dear!" cried Sue, and there were tears in her eyes. "I did so want
my mince pie to be nice!"
"It was good," said Tom. "The crust is the best I ever ate, and the
pickled insides will go good on the fish."
Everybody laughed at that, and even Sue smiled.
"Next time smell your mince-meat before you put it in a pie," said Mrs.
Brown. "Otherwise your pie would have been perfect, Sue."
"I will," promised the little girl.
Tom became a regular member of Camp Rest-a-While, sleeping in a tent by
himself. And he proved so useful, cutting wood, going on errands and
even helping with the cooking, that Mrs. Brown said she wondered how she
had ever got along without him.
He was given some of Uncle Tad's old clothes, that seemed to fit him
very well, so he could no longer be called the "ragged boy," and he went
in swimming so often, often taking Bunny and Sue along, that all three
were as "clean as whistles," Mrs. Brown said.
No word had been heard from Mr. Bixby about his missing helper, but Mr.
Brown had not given up making inquiries about the "needles."
Bunny and Sue missed their electric playthings, but their father brought
them other toys from the city with which they had great fun. But still
Bunny wished for his electric train, and Sue for her wonderful Teddy
bear.
One night, just after supper, Mrs. Brown discovered that she needed milk
to set some bread for baking in the morning.
"I'll go and get it to the farmhouse," said Tom.
"And may I go, too?" asked Bunny. It was decided that he could, as it
was not late, only dark. So down the dusky road trudged Bunny and Tom,
with Splash running along beside them. As it happened, the farmhouse
where they usually got the milk had none left, so they had to go on to
the next one, which was quite near the edge of the Indian village.
"But they won't any of 'em be out now, will they?" asked Bunny.
"Oh, the Indians may be sitting outside their cabins, smoking their
pipes," said Tom.
"Oh, that'll be all right," observed Bunny. "They'll be peace-pipes and
they won't hurt us."
"Of course not," laughed Tom.
From the road in front of the house where they finally got the milk they
could look right down into the valley of the Indian encampment. And as
Bunny looked he saw a bright fire blazing, and Indians walking or
hopping slowly around it.
"Oh, Tom, look!" cried the small boy. "What's that? Are the Indians
going on the war-path? I read of that in my school book. If they are,
we'd better go back and tell Uncle Tad and father. Then they can get
their guns and be ready."
"Those Indians aren't getting ready for war," said Tom. "They're only
having a roast corn dance."
"What's a roast corn dance?" asked Bunny. "I'll show you the roast corn
part to-morrow night," promised Tom. "But don't worry about those
Indians. They'll not hurt you. Now we'd better go home."
As soon as Bunny was in the tent he shouted, much louder than he need
have done:
"Oh, Sue, we saw Indians having a roast corn dance, and to-morrow night
we're going to have one too!"
CHAPTER XIX
EAGLE FEATHER'S HORSE
Bunny Brown was so excited by the Indian campfire he had seen, and by
the queer figures dancing about in the glare of it, seeming twice as
tall and broad as they really were, that he insisted on telling about it
before he went to bed.
"Did they really dance just as we do at dancing school when we're at
home?" asked Sue.
"No, not exactly," Bunny answered. "It was more like marching, and they
turned around every now and then and howled and waved ears of corn in
the air. Then they ate 'em."
"What was it for, Tom?" asked Mr. Brown. "You have lived about here
quite a while and you ought to know."
"Oh, the Indians believe in what they call the Great Spirit," Tom
explained. "They do all sorts of things so he'll like 'em, such as
making fires, dancing and having games. It's only a few of the old
Indians that do that. This green corn roast, or dance, is a sort of
prayer that there'll be lots of corn--a big crop--this year so the
Indians will have plenty to eat. For they depend a whole lot on corn
meal for bread, pancakes and the like of that. I told Bunny I'd show him
how the Indians roast the ears of green corn to-morrow, if you'd let
me."
"Oh, please, Momsie, do!"
"Oh, Daddy, let him!"
The first was Sue's plea, the second Bunny's, and the father and mother
smiled.
"Well, I think it will be all right if Tom is as careful about fire as
he is on the water," said Mr. Brown.
"Oh, goodie!" cried Sue, while Bunny smiled and danced his delight.
Finally Camp Rest-a-While was quiet, for every one was in bed and the
only noises to be heard were those made by the animals and insects of
the wood, an owl now and then calling out: "Who? Who? Who?" just as if
it were trying to find some one who was lost.
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