CHAPTER III
FAIRY RING
Across a smooth stretch of bay dotted with tiny islets, past cliffs with great black fissures in the side; through a narrow channel between grim reefs and the ragged shore, went the Togo. Never a house did they pass. Never another boat did they meet. For Round Robin was hidden in an entirely wild part of the shore, too far from Old Harbor to suit most city people. The branch road ended at the Batchelders’ place. Beyond was wilderness. It was this very wildness that the Batchelders and their friends liked most; and because of it they had chosen this spot for their summer camp.
“Of course you know this Bay was once a great place for Indians?” said Dick, who came from an Indian-frequented part of the country. But Anne knew nothing of Indians and their history. “They had a village somewhere along here, Hugh says; Hugh is great on history. And out on that island away off there,” Reddy pointed into the misty east, “there was a terrible massacre once.”
Anne looked shocked. “There was a shipwreck on that reef,” volunteered Nancy, indicating a row of brown teeth piercing through foam.
“Better than that,” called out Hugh from the tiller, “did you girls know that this was the scene of a big sea-fight during the Revolution? One of my ancestors, who was master of a little fishing schooner, decoyed a British man-of-war right on to that shoal over there, and took him prisoner.”
“It’s not polite of you to mention it in Cicely’s presence,” laughed Nancy. “You might hurt her feelings.”
“Dear me, no!” protested Cicely. “We have forgotten all the grudges of those days, haven’t we? Our countries are just allies, aren’t they?”
“Of course they are!” said Hugh saluting like a soldier.
“Sure we are!” cried Victor doing likewise. “Ask France, too!”