“Anne didn’t eat the luncheon. ’Twas all in the basket, and I ate it,” said Amos. “I don’t believe she slapped Amanda, anyway. Or if she did I’ll bet Amanda slapped her first.”
“Amos!” Mr. Cary’s voice was very stern, and the boy said no more.
It was found that a rowboat was missing, and remembering how Anne and the Cary children had once started out to sail to Boston, it was generally believed that Anne had started off in the boat. Nevertheless search-parties went across the narrow strip of land to the outer beach and up and down the shore of the harbor and along the edge of the Truro woods. Several boats started off, for it was felt that the best chance of finding her was the hope that the little boat could not have gone very far. “It may have been swept out to sea,” Mr. Cary said, and at this Amanda set up such a wail that he instantly added: “But Anne will be found; of course she will.”
CHAPTER III
A NEW FRIEND
“It’s morning!” And Anne sat up and looked about with surprised eyes. Little flecks of sunshine came through the sheltering branches of the tall pine, squirrels ran up and down its trunk, and there were chirpings and calls of birds among the near-by trees. “And I’m not half-way to the top,” continued Anne, shaking off the feeling of drowsiness, and springing up from the soft moss. She picked up her bundle and “Martha Stoddard” and started on. “’Tis about the time that Aunt Martha and Uncle Enos are eating porridge,” she thought longingly, and then remembered that on the hillside, not far from the top, there was a spring of cool water, and she hurried on. She could hear the little tinkling sound of the water before she came in sight of the tiny stream which ran down the slope from the bubbling spring; and laying down her doll and the bundle she ran forward, eager for a drink. She knelt down and drank, and then turned to pick up her belongings, but the bundle and doll had disappeared. Anne looked about as if she could not believe her eyes. “They must be here!” she exclaimed aloud, and at that moment “Martha Stoddard” peered at her astonished owner from behind a tree. The little wooden doll appeared to walk. Then it bowed very low, and vanished. Anne ran to the tree, but Martha was not there; but the doll’s head could be seen behind a small bush, almost within Anne’s reach; but now Anne stopped, remembering that dolls, even dolls like Martha, could not play hide-and-seek. She felt bewildered, and, although Martha bowed and even tried to dance, Anne did not approach a step nearer. She could see that a small brown hand was keeping a tight grasp on Martha, and as she watched this hand a brown face peered out at her over Martha’s head—the brown smiling face of an Indian girl, probably several years older than Anne. After looking at Anne for a few seconds she came out from behind the cluster of bushes. “She’s as tall as Rose Freeman,” was Anne’s first thought.
“Where is my bundle?” she demanded, for although the Indian girl held Martha Stoddard in plain sight the bundle was not visible.
The Indian girl shook her head smilingly, and Anne repeated, “Bundle! Bundle!” and then exclaimed, “Oh, dear, she doesn’t know what I say.”