Volume I Part 9 (1/2)
”How many do you count upon securing to-day?” said Mr.
Carleton, gravely.
”I don't know,” said Fleda, with a business face, ? ”there are a good many trees, and fine large ones, and I don't believe anybody has found them out ? they are so far out of the way; there ought to be a good parcel of nuts.”
”But,” said Mr. Carleton, with perfect gravity, ”if we should be lucky enough to find a supply for your winter's store, it would be too much for you and me to bring home, Miss Fleda, unless you have a broomstick in the service of fairydom.”
”A broomstick!” said Fleda.
”Yes, ? did you never hear of the man who had a broomstick that would fetch pails of water at his bidding?”
”No,” said Fleda, laughing. ”What a convenient broomstick! I wish we had one. But I know what I can do, Mr. Carleton, ? if there should be too many nuts for us to bring home, I can take Cynthy afterwards and get the rest of them. Cynthy and I could go ? grandpa couldn't, even if he was as well as usual, for the trees are in a hollow away over on the other side of the mountain. It's a beautiful place.”
”Well,” said Mr. Carleton, smiling curiously to himself, ”in that case I shall be even of more use than I had hoped. But shan't we want a basket, Miss Fleda?”
”Yes, indeed,” said Fleda, ? ”a good large one ? I am going to run down to the house for it as soon as we get to the turning- off place, if you'll be so good as to sit down and wait for me, Sir, ? I wont be long after it.”
”No,” said he; ”I will walk with you and leave my gun in safe quarters. You had better not travel so fast, or I am afraid you will never reach the hickory-trees.”
Fleda smiled, and said there was no danger, but she slackened her pace, and they proceeded at a more reasonable rate till they reached the house.
Mr. Carleton would not go in, placing his gun in an outer shelter. Fleda dashed into the kitchen, and after a few minutes' delay came out again with a huge basket, which Mr.
Carleton took from her without suffering his inward amus.e.m.e.nt to reach his face, and a little tin pail which she kept under her own guardians.h.i.+p. In vain Mr. Carleton offered to take it with the basket, or even to put it in the basket, where he showed her it would go very well; it must go nowhere but in Fleda's own hand.
Fleda was in restless haste till they had pa.s.sed over the already twice-trodden ground and entered upon the mountain road. It was hardly a road; in some places a beaten track was visible, in others Mr. Carleton wondered how his little companion found her way, where nothing but fresh-fallen leaves and scattered rocks and stones could be seen, covering the whole surface. But her foot never faltered, her eye read way- marks where he saw none; she went on, he did not doubt unerringly, over the leaf-strewn and rock-strewn way, over ridge and hollow, with a steady light swiftness that he could not help admiring. Once they came to a little brawling stream of spring water, hardly three inches deep anywhere, but making quite a wide bed for itself in its bright way to the lowlands.
Mr. Carleton was considering how he should contrive to get his little guide over it in safety, when quick, ? over the little round stones which lifted their heads above the surface of the water, on the tips of her toes, Fleda tripped across before he had done thinking about it. He told her he had no doubt now that she was a fairy, and had powers of walking that did not belong to other people. Fleda laughed, and on her little demure figure went picking out the way, always with that little tin pail hanging at her side, like ? Mr. Carleton busied himself in finding out similes for her. It wasn't very easy.
For a long distance their way was through a thick woodland, clear of underbrush and very pleasant walking, but permitting no look at the distant country. They wound about, now up hill and now down, till at last they began to ascend in good earnest; the road became better marked, and Mr. Carleton came up with his guide again. Both were obliged to walk more slowly. He had overcome a good deal of Fleda's reserve, and she talked to him now quite freely, without however losing the grace of a most exquisite modesty in everything she said or did.
”What do you suppose I have been amusing myself with all this while, Miss Fleda?” said he, after walking for some time alongside of her in silence. ”I have been trying to fancy what you looked like as you travelled on before me with that mysterious tin pail.”
”Well, what _did_ I look like?” said Fleda, laughing.
”Little Red Riding-Hood, the first thing, carrying her grandmother the pot of b.u.t.ter.”
”Ah, but I haven't got any b.u.t.ter in this, as it happens,”
said Fleda; ”and I hope you are not anything like the wolf, Mr. Carleton?”
”I hope not,” said he, laughing. ”Well, then, I thought you might be one of those young ladies the fairy-stories tell of, who set out over the world to seek their fortune. That might hold, you know, a little provision to last for a day or two till you found it.”
”No,” said Fleda, ? ”I should never go to seek my fortune.”
”Why not, pray?”
”I don't think I should find it any the sooner.”
Mr. Carleton looked at her, and could not make up his mind whether or not she spoke wittingly.
Well, but after all, are we not seeking our fortune?” said he.
”We are doing something very like it. Now up here on the mountain-top perhaps we shall find only empty trees ? perhaps trees with a harvest of nuts on them.”