They crossed the little brook and went st.u.r.dily on. Now and then a partridge flew in front of them. Squirrels scolded and chattered among the tree tops, and once or twice a rabbit leaped out from behind some stump and ran ahead of them as if daring them to capture him.

Both the girls well knew that there were larger and more dangerous animals in the forests. There were bears prowling somewhere in those dim shadowy woods, eating the young buds and leaves, and capturing such defenseless birds and rabbits as they could. Once or twice they heard some heavy creature crashing through the underbrush, and looked at each other with startled eyes; but no harm came near them, and by the middle of the afternoon they reached the first house of the settlement, and had told their errand.

"Every man in the settlement is on his way to Machias this very hour,"

declared the friendly woman who had welcomed the girls with amazed admiration; and, when they told of the scarcity of powder and shot in Machias, had said that the men of Chandler's River settlement had believed Machias well supplied with powder, and had taken but a small quant.i.ty with them.

"One of our fishermen brought news of the British gunboat, and our men started at once. They went by the lower trail," explained the woman, as she stirred the hot porridge she was cooking for the girls' supper.

"'Tis well your parents had courage to let you come, and you must rest, and get early to bed. I will go to the powder-house and bring back as much as you can carry, and I will go with you a part of the way to-morrow," she added, and Rebecca and Danna thanked her gratefully.

After they had eaten their porridge they were quite ready to bathe their tired feet in the hot water their hostess had ready, and go to bed, although the sun was yet an hour above the horizon.

While the girls slept Mrs. Getch.e.l.l hurried to the other houses of the settlement, telling the story of the two courageous girls who had come through the forest on their patriotic errand.

"'Tis hardly to be believed," she declared. "These little maids are brave as soldiers, and they will carry the powder and shot back in good time to be of use. General Washington shall hear of them, and the Province of Maine will not forget their names."

The women and children listened eagerly, and all were anxious for a sight of the little maids who had shown such courage and hardihood. But Mrs. Getch.e.l.l declared that they must not be disturbed, or they would not be equal to the return journey on the next day.

"But you can all come in the morning and see them start for Machias,"

she said, and with the powder and shot, ten pounds of each, safely packed, she returned home.

It was broad daylight when Rebecca and Anna awoke. Mrs. Getch.e.l.l had breakfast ready for them, and they enjoyed the hot batter cakes and maple syrup and the rich milk. They had not finished eating when a murmur of voices outside the door made them look up in surprise.

"'Tis the women and children," explained Mrs. Getch.e.l.l smilingly. "They have come to wish you good fortune."

Rebecca and Anna hardly knew what to say as the women of the settlement entered the big kitchen, and with friendly smiles praised the two girls for their courage and loyalty. Boys and girls of their own age gathered about the doorway and looked at them admiringly; and when Mrs. Getch.e.l.l said it was time to start, and with Rebby and Anna led the way toward the river, young and old followed them. One of the older women slipped a slender gold chain around Anna's neck, saying: "Wear it, dear little maid, to remind you that there is no sacrifice too great to make for America's freedom." And a little girl of about Rebecca's age shyly pressed a little purse into her hand. "'Tis a golden sovereign that my mother bade me give you," she said, "and my mother says that always the children of Maine will remember what you have done for America's cause."

Rebby hardly knew what to reply. "If they knew that I set the liberty tree afloat they would not praise me," she thought unhappily.

A short distance beyond the settlement the women and children bade the girls good-bye, with many good wishes for their safe return to Machias.

But Mrs. Getch.e.l.l was to go on with them for a part of their journey.

As Rebby and Anna turned to wave their hands to these new friends a loud cheer went up, the boys waving their caps and the girls calling: "Good luck to the brave little maids from Machias."

Mrs. Getch.e.l.l went on with them for several miles, carrying the powder and shot, and a flat package containing food for their journey. She told them to follow the river down, as that trail was more traveled and over smoother ground, although farther to travel than the forest trail; and kissing the girls good-bye, after they had promised to visit her "as soon as the English had been sent home," she turned back toward the settlement.

Rebby and Danna watched Mrs. Getch.e.l.l's stout figure until it was hidden by the forest, and then, more serious and anxious than at any time during their perilous undertaking, they picked up the heavy packages that Mrs. Getch.e.l.l had placed on the trunk of a fallen tree, and prepared to continue their journey.

The shot was in two strong bags, while the powder, in order that it might be kept perfectly dry and safe, was in two tin canisters, each one carefully sewn up in stout sailcloth. Mrs. Getch.e.l.l had fastened a stout strap to each bag of powder and a bag of shot. These straps went over the girls' shoulders, and made them easier to carry than in any other way. It was of course a tough job for each girl to carry ten pounds for the long distance that lay before them, but they pushed on valiantly.

At first the river trail was fairly smooth, and they made good progress, but after a few miles they encountered a long stretch of rocky ground.

Here they had to clamber over high ledges, or else go a long distance out of their way. Before noonday Rebby declared that she could not go another step, and sat down at the foot of a high ma.s.s of rocks over which they must climb.

"You will have to go on and leave me, Danna," she said. "My feet won't go, they are so tired: and my shoulders ache."

The day had grown very warm; there was not a breath of air, and Anna owned that she had never seen so difficult a trail. Mrs. Getch.e.l.l had warned them to be sure and keep in sight of the river and it would lead them straight to Machias. As Anna looked at her sister she began to fear that they might not be able to reach home before night, and she knew all the danger and peril that a night spent in that lonely spot would mean.

They had not found a spring or brook since leaving Mrs. Getch.e.l.l, and they were both very thirsty as well as tired and hungry.

"We will take a good rest, Rebby, and eat our luncheon. I saw Mrs.

Getch.e.l.l stirring up a mola.s.ses cake while we ate breakfast," said Anna, encouragingly, "and she put a tin dipper with the luncheon. See!" and Anna held up the small cup-shaped dish. "I'll fetch you a drink from the river," she added, and putting her burden of powder and shot on the ground beside Rebby, she made her way down the steep bank of the river.

The bank was covered by a thick growth of alders, with here and there a small spruce tree. Anna wondered how she would ever manage to bring a cup filled with water up that bank; but she kept on, and was soon at the river's edge. The rushing water was clear and cool, and Anna drank thirstily. Then she bathed her face and hands, slipped off her moccasins and stockings and dipped her feet in the cool stream. She felt rested and refreshed, as with the tin cup filled with water, and covered with a broad leaf of a water-lily, she made her careful way back to where she had left her sister.

Rebby had taken off her hat and moccasins. She drank the water eagerly before saying a word.

"I feel better already," she said, "and by the time we have eaten our lunch I know we can start. We _must_," she added soberly, "for if we do not get home before dark Father will surely start after us."

Danna was opening the package of food and made no response, but she was wondering if Rebby could really hold out until they reached the settlement. "I couldn't leave her alone," the little girl thought a little fearfully, wondering if their long journey was, after all, to end in failure. For she knew that if they did not reach Machias by the early evening their attempt to aid the settlement would have been in vain.

"Look, Rebby! White bread, spread with b.u.t.ter," she said, as she unfastened the package, "and here are slices of chicken, and big squares of mola.s.ses cake," and Rebby smiled at her little sister's evident delight. The two girls thoroughly enjoyed the excellent food, and when the last crumb had been eaten Rebecca declared herself rested, and ready to start on.

As she picked up her moccasins she exclaimed: "Oh, Danna!" in so tragic a tone that her sister looked at her with frightened eyes.

"What is it, Rebby?" she whispered.

"A hole in my moccasin. Look!" and Rebby held up the moccasin, showing a long narrow slit on the sole. "These awful rocks! I can never walk without cutting my foot, and then I can't walk at all."

"I can fix it," Danna declared instantly. "Give it to me, Rebby; quick!"

and the elder sister obeyed.

Danna reached into the pocket of her doeskin skirt and drew out her sharp clasp-knife; very carefully she cut a broad strip from the top of Rebby's moccasin, and skilfully fitted it inside over the sole.

"I saw Father do this very thing once," she said. "It will surely last until we reach home."

"I knew I could never make this trip without you, Danna," Rebby said gratefully. "You are as wise as a real little Indian girl."

They went on now at a slower pace, for both girls realized that if Rebby was again overcome by heat and fatigue that it might be impossible for her to continue. Even Danna owned to herself that she had never been so tired. The strap across her shoulders, supporting the heavy load, pressed heavily and at times became almost unbearable; but not for a moment did it occur to Danna to relinquish the burden.

They had left the rocky stretch behind them and come out to a comparatively smooth pasture. The deep forest lay on their right; to the left was the sloping bank leading to the river. Suddenly Anna stopped short and grasped Rebby's arm; a second later a deer leaped directly across their path and plunged down the bank, followed by a leaping, panting creature that hardly seemed to touch the ground.

"A bear!" whispered Rebby with frightened eyes.

"Hurry, Rebby," responded Danna, and the girls, forgetting their tired feet and lame shoulders, sped silently over the open pasture land.

Danna was the first to speak, but it was in a whisper: "We need not fear, Rebby. He was after the deer."

Rebby made no response. More fully than ever the elder girl realized the peril into which she had led her younger sister. But nevertheless she whispered to herself that it was the only way: the powder and shot were all that could save the settlement from the hands of the enemy.

The girls did not stop again to rest, nor did they speak until they reached the top of a rise of ground from which they could see the first houses of the settlement. The sun was dropping behind the tall pines on the western side of the river, and they could see the _Polly_ and _Unity_ as they lay at anchor in the harbor.

"We are safe now, Danna," said Rebby thankfully, and the sisters smiled at each other happily.

"Can't we leave the powder and shot here?" pleaded Danna, twisting the uncomfortable strap into an easier position. "Father would come and get it, and it's so heavy."

But Rebby shook her head. "It would not be safe. We must carry it straight home," she said; so, with a sigh of endurance, Danna started on.

They were now in the broad trail that led straight to the little settlement, and before they reached the first house they saw a tall figure striding toward them. It was Mr. Weston, and in a moment their load of powder and shot was swung over his shoulders, Rebby was clasping one hand and Anna the other, and they were both talking at once, trying to tell him the story of their journey.