CHAPTER XII.
"I HA'E NAEBODY NOW."
Standing on the bank, Willy looked back over his shoulder at Fred, and saw him dart off into a shady cow-path. No doubt he was going to his uncle Diah's. When he was fairly out of sight, and Willy comprehended at last that he had really left him, and did not mean to come back, he sat down on a stone by the wayside, and began to rave.
"The tormentable, mean, naughty boy! I'd be ashamed to treat a skeeter the way he's treated me! Did I ever coax a boy to go anywhere with me, and then run off and leave him right in the middle of the river? No, sir. Sore feet, hey? Didn't anybody ever have sore feet 'fore now, I wonder? Why, I had chilblains last winter so deep they dug a hole into my heels, and,—well, it's no use to make a great fuss,—I didn't cry but two or three times. Blisters! what's that? Nothing but little puffs of water! Perhaps that wasn't why he stopped, though. Just as likely as not he meant all the time to stop, and come a-purpose to see Mr. Diah. How can you tell? A boy that lies so! There, there, come to think of it, shouldn't wonder if his feet weren't sore a bit! Wish I'd looked at 'em!
"Well, he's backed out, Fred Chase has! I should think he'd feel so mean he never'd want to show his head anywhere again! 'Fore I'd sneak out when I got started! Eh, for shame!"
Willy tore up a handful of grass, and threw it into the road, and the action served to relieve him a little.
"Well, what'll I do? now let's think. If a tiger should come right down this ferry-hill, and tear me all to pieces, Fred wouldn't care. 'Course not. All he cares is to get enough to eat, and not make his feet sore. He don't care what comes of me. I've got to think it out for myself, what I'd better do. Got to do it myself, too, all alone, and there won't be anybody to help me. Pretty scrape, I should think! Might have known better'n to come!
"Well; will I be a lumberman and go up to the Forks? Let's see; I don' know the way up there. That makes it bad, 'cause I guess there isn't much of any road to it 'cept spotted trees; that's what I heard once. Most likely I'd get lost. Fred wouldn't care if I did; be glad, I s'pose. But, then, there's bears. Ugh! Pshaw! who's afraid of bears? And then there's mother—O, I didn't mean to think about mother!"
Willy sighed, but soon roused himself.
"Well, what'll I do? O, wasn't that a real poor breakfast the woman gave us? Don't see how I swallowed it! Makes me sick to think of it. Didn't taste much like mother's breakfasts! I don't want to go where I'll have to drink molasses in my coffee, and eat fatty potatoes too.