Saturday came, but Amos did not appear, but toward evening a Truro man brought Mr. Cary word that Amos had been in Truro, and had started for Brewster that morning.
“He’s a sailor, that boy!” declared the Truro man admiringly. “He hoisted that square foot of sail-cloth, and went out of harbor at sunrise with a fair wind. He said he had ’business in Brewster,’” and the Truro man laughed good-naturedly. “But he’s a smart boy,” he added.
Mr. Cary made no answer, but his stern face softened a little at the praise of Amos. Nevertheless he was firmly resolved that Amos should be sent on a long voyage. “The harder master he has the better,” thought the father. “I’m too easy with him.”
When Amos hoisted his “square foot of sail” and headed for Wellfleet, he saw a canoe some distance ahead of him.
“Two squaws paddling and one doing nothing,” thought the boy. “Wonder where they’re bound?” But it was no unusual sight to see Indian canoes in those waters, and Amos did not think much about it. But his course brought him nearer and nearer to the graceful craft, and all at once he noticed that the figure sitting in the canoe was a little white girl. At that very moment Anne turned her face toward him.
“Amos!” she exclaimed, springing to her feet.
There was an angry exclamation from the squaw, a yell from Nakanit, and in an instant the girls and woman were in the water. Anne’s jump had upset the delicately balanced craft. The baskets bobbed and floated on the water. Anne’s bundle was not to be seen, while Anne herself, clutching at the slippery side of the canoe called “Amos! Amos!” in a terrified voice.
But it was no new experience for either the squaw or Nakanit. In a moment Anne felt a strong grasp on her shoulder. “Keep quiet,” commanded the squaw. “Let go the canoe.” As Anne obeyed she saw Nakanit close beside her, and, while the squaw kept her firm grasp on Anne’s shoulder, the girl righted the canoe, and easily and surely regained her place in it. The squaw lifted Anne in, and quickly followed her. Amos had brought his boat as near as possible and now rescued the baskets and floating paddles, and handed them to Nakanit.
The squaw scowled at Anne, and when the girl bewailed her lost bundle muttered angrily.