"Perhaps Father would give us permission if we asked him," Anna persisted. But Rebecca shook her head at this suggestion; she dared not risk the chance of a refusal.

"We ought to go at once," she said earnestly. "'Twill be a long tramp, and the gunboat may come up the harbor and threaten the settlement any day. Do say you will go, Anna."

Rebby knew that Anna's knowledge of the forest, her strength and courage, would be all that could enable her to undertake the task.

Without Anna she feared that she might fail in finding her way, and never reach Chandler's River.

"Think, Danna! The gunboat will shoot down our liberty pole! Perhaps burn the church and our houses, and they may carry off our father a prisoner! 'Tis what they try to do whenever Americans resist; and if the Machias men have powder and shot they'll not let the gunboat come near.

And we can get the powder and save the settlement. Oh, Danna----"

Rebby's pet.i.tion ended in a wail.

And now Anna was as eager to start as Rebby herself. The thought of her father being taken a prisoner and that she and Rebby could prevent so great a misfortune made her no longer hesitate.

"We will start to-morrow morning, early," she said. "We must make sure that our moccasins are in good shape, Rebby; and we must take some corn-bread, for 'twill be a good journey. How early can we start, Rebby?"

"Before sunrise, surely," responded Rebby, "and I will write on a strip of birch-bark what we are going to do, and pin it to Father's hat. Then they will not worry about us."

"Worry! Why, Father will think it a brave deed," declared Anna. "I wish we had started this morning."

That day seemed very long to the sisters. They made their preparations carefully for the next day's journey, and at an early hour went to bed, so that they might awaken in good season.

The next morning dawned clear. Before the sun was up Anna was wide awake, and at her whispered "Rebby," her sister's eyes opened quickly, and they slipped quietly out of bed. In a few moments they were fully dressed for their tramp through the forest. Very cautiously they made their way down the stairs. The house was silent. Neither Mr. nor Mrs.

Weston heard the faintest sound to disturb their slumbers.

On the piece of smooth birch-bark that Rebby had made ready on the previous day, with a bit of charcoal from the fireplace she wrote:

"Dear Mother and dear Father: Anna and I are going to Chandler's River to bring home powder and shot for Machias men to use to save the settlement. We will be home to-morrow. Your loving Rebby and Danna."

They slipped this under the deerskin thong that was twisted about Mr.

Weston's hat, opened the kitchen door gently, and moved noiselessly along in the shadow of the house, then ran swiftly up the path, and in a short time were out of sight of the houses of the settlement.

"Now we must walk slowly for a time," cautioned Anna, remembering her father's warnings against hurrying at the beginning of a tramp. "We must go on steadily for a time, and rest before we begin to feel tired. That is the way Indians do, and Father says it is why they can travel day after day and not be exhausted."

Rebby looked at her little sister admiringly. In woodland lore she realized that Danna was much wiser than herself, and she was quite ready to be guided by her.

When Mrs. Weston called the girls the next morning and received no response she was not greatly surprised, as they often slept a little later than their parents. "The extra sleep will do them no harm," she said smilingly, as she and Mr. Weston sat down to the breakfast table; therefore Rebby and Danna were well on their way before their father took his hat from its accustomed place and discovered the strip of birch-bark with its surprising message.

Mr. Weston read the note, and stood for a moment silent, thinking what could be done. His first impulse was to hasten after his girls and bring them safely home. Then came the thought of the peril of the settlement. At any moment he might be called upon to help in its defense. Every man would be needed. He recalled Danna's strength and fearlessness, and her knowledge of the forest, and Rebby's quiet good judgment. If there were dangers he believed his girls could meet them fearlessly. Then, too, what a blessing it would be to have them bring home a store of powder and shot. It would mean the salvation of the settlement. Mr. Weston began to feel very proud of his little daughters and to feel sure they would return safely.

"What is the trouble with your hat, Father?" questioned his wife. "You stand looking at it as if it had some message for you."

"Indeed it has," Mr. Weston replied smilingly. "It tells me that we have two of the bravest girls in America. Listen," and he read Rebby's note aloud.

"'Tis a deed to make us proud," he said, "and 'twill give new courage to every man in the settlement to know that a supply of powder will be here to-morrow."

But it was a long and anxious day for Mrs. Weston. She knew the perils of the forest, and her thoughts centered about lurking bears that might spring out upon Rebby and Danna as they went through the wilderness. She endeavored to find comfort by remembering that their errand was for the cause of justice and freedom, and that a love stronger than her own was about them.

CHAPTER XVII

A PERILOUS JOURNEY

Not until the girls reached the beginning of the forest trail, where their father had pointed out the dim path leading toward Chandler's River, did they feel really sure that their father would not follow them. But as they stopped for a brief rest under the shadow of a wide-spreading beach tree Rebby said:

"Father could have overtaken us by this time, Danna, if he did not think it was right for us to go."

Danna agreed cheerfully, and now both the girls felt a new courage for this perilous undertaking that was sure to tax their strength to the utmost. The fact that their father had not hastened after them made them both realize how important it was that powder and shot should reach the Machias settlement as soon as possible.

The faint path soon disappeared entirely, and had Rebby been alone she would not have known which way to turn. But Anna went on confidently, keeping a sharp outlook for the "blazed" trees of which her father had told her as marking the way toward Chandler's River.

They forced their way through dense ma.s.ses of tangled underbrush, over fallen trees, and through the shadowy stretches of thickly growing pine.

Now and then they came to some marshy stretch, which Anna would carefully avoid, for she remembered how often her father had warned her of the dangers of such places, with their unmarked quicksands that would quickly swallow the heedless person who ventured upon them.

Notwithstanding Anna's caution in regard to resting frequently they pushed on steadily, with but one stop until the sound of water as it dashed over a rocky bed warned them that they were near Whitneyville Falls, and half-way to their destination.

The sun was now directly overhead, and as they came out from the shade of the forest to the open s.p.a.ce along the river's bank Rebby sank down on the gra.s.s with a long breath of relief.

"I never was so tired in all my life," she declared.

"We will take a good rest and eat our corn-bread," responded Anna. "I am sure the remainder of the way will not be so hard, because we can follow the river up to the settlement."

Rebby was too tired to reply. She stretched herself out on the warm gra.s.s and closed her eyes.

"Poor Rebby," thought Danna, looking down at her elder sister and remembering that Rebecca had never enjoyed woodland tramps, and realizing that this undertaking was much harder for her sister than for herself.

"She's asleep," Anna whispered to herself, with a little smile of satisfaction. "Now I will have a fine surprise for her when she awakes,"

and the little girl tiptoed noiselessly back to the edge of the woods, where she had noticed a quant.i.ty of checkerberry leaves. There were many crimson berries still clinging to the vines, and Anna picked these carefully, using her cap for a basket, and gathering a quant.i.ty of the young checkerberry leaves. "Rebby is sure to like these," she thought happily.

Anna's sharp glance moved about quickly and finally rested near an old stump.

"Partridge eggs!" she exclaimed joyfully, and in a moment she was beside the stump peering down at a circle of small brownish eggs. She counted them, and before she had whispered "twenty!" a whirring, scrambling noise close at hand told her that the partridge to whom the eggs belonged was close at hand.

"You won't miss a few eggs, Mistress Partridge," said Anna soberly, carefully selecting four from the outer edge of the circle, and then going softly away, that she might not unnecessarily frighten the woodland bird.

She now carried the cap with great care, as she looked about hoping to discover some sign of a woodland spring. She kept along at the edge of the woods, and very soon she heard the sound of a noisy little brook hurrying along to the river. It was not far up the river from the place where Rebby was so comfortably asleep, and Anna decided that it would be just the place for their noonday luncheon.

She set the cap, with all its treasures, carefully under the shade of a tiny fir tree near the side of the brook and then ran back to awaken Rebby.

"Dinner is ready!" she called gaily as she ran; and the sound of her voice made Rebecca sit up quickly, and exclaim:

"The British will shoot down our liberty pole!" For her dreams had been of soldiers in red coats firing at the liberty pole, while Mr. Worden Foster, with a big pitchfork, tried to drive them away.

"It is a truly dinner, with eggs," declared Anna happily, as she led the way back to the noisy little brook.

The raw eggs tasted good to the hungry girls, and the good corn-bread and spicy berries and tender checkerberry leaves, with cool water to drink, made them both feel refreshed and rested, and ready for the remaining distance to Chandler's River settlement.