What Melindy and her grandmother called the “Burnt Lands” was a strip of country running back for miles from the clearing. The fire had gone over it years before, cutting a sharply defined, gradually widening path through the forest, and leaving behind it only a few scattered rampikes, or tall, naked trunks bleached to whiteness by the storms of many winters. Here and there amid these desolate spaces, dense thickets of low growth had sprung up, making a secure hiding-place of every hollow where the soil had not had all the life scorched out of it.
Having crossed the pasture, Melindy presently detected those faint indications of a trail which the uninitiated eye finds it so impossible to see. Slight bendings and bruises of the blueberry and laurel scrub caught her notice. Then she found, in a bare spot, the unmistakable print of a cow’s hoof. The trail was now quite clear to her; and it was clearly that of old “Spotty.” Intent upon her quest she hurried on, heedless of the tender colours changing in the sky above her head, of the first swallows flitting and twittering across it, of the keen yet delicate fragrance escaping from every sap-swollen bud, and of the sweetly persuasive piping of the frogs from the water meadow. She 263 had no thought at that moment but to find the truant cow and get her safely stabled before dark.
The trail led directly to a rocky hollow about a hundred yards from the edge of the pasture––perhaps a hundred and fifty yards from the doorway wherein Mrs. Griffis sat intently watching Melindy’s progress. The hollow was thick with young spruce and white birch, clustered about a single tall and massive rampike.
Into this shadowy tangle the girl pushed fearlessly, peering ahead beneath the dark, balsam-scented branches. She could see, in a broken fashion, to the very foot of the rampike, across which lay a huge fallen trunk. But she could see nothing of old “Spotty,” who, by reason of her vivid colouring of red and white splotches, would have been conspicuous against those dark surroundings.
There was something in the silence, combined with the absence of the cow whom she confidently expected to find, which sent a little chill to the girl’s heart. She gripped her axe more tightly, and stood quite motionless, accustoming her eyes to the confused gloom; and presently she thought she could distinguish a small brownish shape lying on a mound of moss near the foot of the rampike. A moment more and she could see that it was looking at her, with big, soft eyes. Then a pair of big ears moved. She realized that it was a calf she was looking at. Old “Spotty’s” truancy was accounted for. 264
But where was old “Spotty”? Melindy thought for a moment, and concluded very properly that the mother, considering the calf well-hidden, had slipped away to the spring for a drink. She was on the point of stepping forward to admire the little new-comer and see if it was yet strong enough to be led home to the barn, when a stealthy rustling at the farther side of the thicket arrested her.
Certainly that could not be the cow, who was anything but stealthy in her movements. But what could it be?
Melindy had a sudden prescience of peril. But her nerves stiffened to it, and she had no thought of retreat. It might be one of those savage lynxes, spying upon the calf in its mother’s absence. At this idea Melindy’s small mouth itself set very grimly, and she rejoiced that she had brought the axe along. The lynx, of all the wild creatures, she regarded with special antagonism.
The stealthy movements came nearer, nearer, then suddenly died out. A moment more and a dark bulk took shape noiselessly among the fir-branches, some ten or twelve feet beyond the spot where the helpless calf was lying.
For a second Melindy’s heart stood still. What was her little axe against a bear! Then she recalled the general backwoods faith that the biggest black bear would run from a human being, if only he had plenty of room to run. She looked at the helpless 265 little one curled up on its mossy bed. She looked at the savage black shape gliding slowly forward to devour it. And her heart leaped with returning courage.