Silver Lake

by R. M. Ballantyne

Both Roy and his sister were good readers, having been taught by their mother out of the Bible—the only book that Robin Gore had brought with him from the settlements. Robin could read, but he did not care much for reading—neither did Walter nor Larry O’Dowd. Indeed the latter could not read at all. Mrs Gore had wanted to take a few books with her into the wilderness, but her husband said he thought the Bible was enough for her; so the library at Fort Enterprise was select and small! One good resulted from this—the Bible was read, by all who could read, a great deal more than would have been the case had there been other books at hand. But the young people longed earnestly for books containing fairy tales, such as was told to them by their mother; and wild adventures, such as Walter could relate or invent by the hour.

It might have been observed that Roy carried on his shoulder a remarkable object—something like a clumsy basket made of reeds, and about twice the size of a man’s head. This had been made by Nelly the night before. The use to which it was to be put was soon shown by Roy. Having reached the spot where the experiment was to be tried, and having observed that there were many ducks, large and small, floating about among the reeds, he got Nelly to hold the basket, if we may so call it, as high as she could raise it. There was a hole in the bottom of it. Through this Roy thrust his head, so that the machine rested on his shoulders, his head being inside and completely concealed.

“Now, Nelly, what think you of my helmet?”

“Oh! it is splendid!” cried the girl, laughing in a subdued voice. “It’s so awfully absurd looking, but can you see? for I don’t see a bit of your face.”

“See? ay, as well as need be. There’s lots of small holes which I can peep through in all directions. But come, I’ll try it. Keep close, Nell, and don’t laugh too loud, for ducks ain’t used to laughing, d’ye see, and may be frightened by it.”

So saying Roy crept on his hands and knees to the edge of the lake, being concealed by bushes, until he got into the water. Here a few steps took him into the reeds which clustered so thickly at that spot, and grew so tall that he was soon hidden from sight altogether.

He had not taken off much of his dress, which, we may remark in passing, was of the simplest at all times—consisting of a pair of trousers, a striped cotton shirt, and a grey cloth capote with a hood to it. His capote and cap were left in charge of his sister. As for the shirt and trousers, they could be easily dried again.

Nelly watched the place where her brother had disappeared with breathless interest. As he did not reappear as quickly as she had expected, she became greatly alarmed. In a few minutes more she would certainly have rushed into the lake to the rescue, regardless of consequences and of ducks, had not Roy’s strange head-dress come suddenly into view at the outward verge of the reeds. The lad had waded in up to his neck, and was now slowly—almost imperceptibly—approaching a group of ducks that were disporting themselves gaily in the water.

“They’ll never let him near them,” thought Nelly.

She was wrong, for at that moment an extremely fat and pert young duck observed the bundle of reeds, and swam straight up to it, animated, no doubt, by that reckless curiosity which is peculiar to young creatures. Had its mother known what was inside of the bundle, she would no doubt have remonstrated with her head-strong child, but, old and sagacious though that mother was, she was completely deceived. She was not even astonished when her duckling suddenly disappeared beneath the water, thinking, no doubt, that it had dived. Soon the bundle of reeds drew near to the mother, and she, too, disappeared suddenly below the water. Whatever her astonishment was at feeling her legs seized from below, she had not time to express it before her voice was choked. Nelly observed these disappearances with intense amazement, and delight stamped every lineament of her little visage.