“You had a bad dream, dear,” began Desiré, “and—”
“But I didn’t. I heard Dapple and Dolly holler just as plain, and they never do that unless somebody goes near ’em.”
Desiré looked questioningly at her brother, but he was busy tying the animals.
“Now,” he said firmly, when he had finished his task, “we’ll all go back to bed and right to sleep.”
He turned briskly into the tent where René still slept peacefully, and quietness once more descended upon the forest. Jack, however, looped up the flap of the tent and lay watching over his little family until the soft grey light of the early morning began to filter through the trees.
CHAPTER XI
THE BLUE-COVERED BOOK
Several days later, one beautiful sunny morning, Dapple and Dolly were trotting briskly along the Shore Road toward Digby. For more than two miles this road winds along the shore of Digby Basin, formed by the Bay of Fundy waters flowing through a mile wide break in the North Mountain Range.
“That,” said Jack, pointing to the opening between the mountains, “is Digby Gap, or, as the natives call it, ‘Digby Gut.’ In olden days all the fishing boats used to stop there on their way home long enough for the fishermen to clean their fish, and throw all the ‘guts’ or insides into the water.”
“What a horrid name!” was Priscilla’s comment.
“It’s lovely here, though,” observed Desiré, gazing across the sparkling water to the hazy blue sides of the two big mountains opposite, and back again to the forested slopes beside the wagon.