Short Allowance, and a Surprise.
Once again we return to Silver Lake; but here we do not find affairs as we left them. True, Roy and Nelly are still there, the hut is as snug as it used to be, and the scenery as beautiful, but provisions have begun to fail, and an expression of real anxiety clouds the usually cheerful countenance of Roy, while reflected anxiety sits on the sweet little face of Nell. The winter is far advanced, and the prospect of resuming the journey home is farther off than ever.
One morning Roy entered the hut with a slow step and a sad countenance.
“Nell,” said he, throwing down a small fish which he had just caught, “things look very bad now; seems to me that we’ll starve here. Since we broke the long line I’ve only caught little things like that; there’s no rabbits in the snares—I looked at every one this mornin’—and, as for deer, they seem to have said good-bye for the winter. I thought of goin’ out with the gun this forenoon, but I think it a’nt o’ no use, for I was out all yesterday without seeing a feather or a hoof-print.”
The tone in which Roy said this, and the manner in which he flung himself down on the ground beside the fire, alarmed his sister greatly, so that she scarcely knew what to say.
“Don’t know what’s to be done at all,” continued Roy somewhat peevishly.
This was so unlike himself that the little girl felt a strong tendency to burst into tears, but she restrained herself. After a short silence, she said somewhat timidly—
“Don’t you think we might try to pray?”
“What’s the use,” said Roy quickly; “I’m sure I’ve prayed often and often, and so have you, but nothin’s come of it.”
It was quite evident that Roy was in a state of rebellion. This was the first time Nelly had suggested united prayer to her brother; she did it timidly, and the rebuff caused her to shrink within herself.