The next morning, when they were ready to leave Bear River, Amy decided to wheel rather than drive to the station. It was hardly five miles, over a main road, and she felt that she needed exercise.
"Keep us in sight, Amy."
"Oh, yes, if I don't pass you," she replied.
But Amy at first lagged behind,—there were so many lovely points of view, and she stopped several times to enjoy them to the utmost. What a curious effect, to look down on the river, or rather to look down from a hill, and see a ship apparently moored among trees! Of course the explanation was that the beautiful Bear River lay in a narrow valley, surrounded by hills that descended sharply to its very margin, with trees so close together on its banks as to produce the strange effect that Amy had noted.
The carriage was out of sight when Amy finally pushed on. Shortly she realized that pedalling required great effort. At first she ascribed her difficulty to the hills, but a slight grating of the wheel made her look at her tires, and, to her dismay, she found a small puncture. What should she do? She glanced at her watch, and was surprised to see how much time she had lost. One or two wagons had already passed her on their way to the train, and she regretted that she had not called for help. It might have been ignominious—it certainly would have been more discreet—to make her appearance at the station carried in a wagon rather than to lose her train altogether, as now appeared probable. She stopped a boy whom she met walking toward her.
"How far is it to the station?" she asked.
"Only a little way," he replied, after the fashion of boys, and she pushed on hopefully. She heard wheels in the distance, and made up her mind to humiliate herself to the extent of asking the new-comer to assist her; but when the vehicle came in sight it proved to be a narrow, one-seated buggy, and its three passengers seemed more than enough for it. A little farther on she heard an ominous whistle. The train was nearing the station. She felt indignant.
"Why should this particular train be on time on this particular day? Nova Scotia trains are not noted for hurrying."
Now she was walking and dragging her bicycle along. She met a number of persons who evidently had left the train at the Bear River station and were walking up to their homes. Then she heard the engine whistle again as the signal for starting on, and she knew that it was useless to go down to the station itself. She stood still for a moment, half paralyzed. Of course there was no special danger; her mother and the others might go on to Annapolis without her, and she could return to Bear River for the night; but it was all very mortifying. Then a sudden thought came to her; in fact, it had occurred to her when she first discovered the punctured wheel.
"If Fritz were with me, he would have found some way of mending the puncture; in fact, one man is almost necessary on an excursion." That was what Fritz himself had said to her.