Bessie on Her Travels

Bessie did not contradict her, though she thought it a very strange opinion for Belle to hold, and was not at all convinced herself.

“I wish papa was here to stay with me by mamma a little while,” said Belle, presently.

“Shall I go ask him to come?” asked Bessie.

“Yes,” said Belle. “Do you know the way?”

“Oh, yes! It’s right up that path, isn’t it?”

Then she kissed Belle and left her, turning back as she passed through the gate, to look at her little playmate sitting by her mother’s grave and leaning her head pensively against the monument. But Belle smiled as she met Bessie’s eye, and the little girl felt that she had not been left quite “comfortless.” Her own heart was very full of love and sympathy.

Bessie ran up the path till she was nearly half way to the house, when she was brought to a sudden stand-still by what she thought a very alarming object. Just before her was a large black dog, broad-chested, tall, and fierce-looking, standing directly in the path, and seeming as though he meant to dispute the way.

Bessie’s heart was in her mouth and her knees shook; but she did not scream. She looked at the dog and he looked at her, but he did not bark or growl. Then she found her voice, and tried what coaxing would do.

“Nice doggie, nice little doggie,” she said to the great creature. “Does little doggie want Bessie to go away? Well, she will. But then the good little fellow mustn’t bark at Bessie and frighten her.”

Bessie had an idea that her seeming enemy could bite as well as bark if he saw fit occasion; but she did not think it wisest to suggest it to him.

It must have been a hard-hearted dog, indeed, which could have resisted that insinuating voice and smile, and either bark or bite; and this one did not seem inclined to do the one or the other; but then neither did he seem to intend to move out of the path, but stood stock still gazing at his unwilling little companion.

Seeing that he appeared peaceable, Bessie took courage, and, edging off upon the grass, went a few steps forward. But as she passed the dog, he turned and placed himself before her, though still without any show of attacking her.

Bessie was pretty well frightened; but she began her wiles again, talking to him as she would have done to Baby Annie or Flossy.

“Poor fellow! nice doggie. Bessie wouldn’t hurt little doggie for any thing. Doggie, doggie, doggie! He’ll let Bessie go to the house, won’t he? Don’t he want to go and see Belle down there?”

Now you must not think that Bessie wanted to save herself by exposing her little friend; for she knew that this must be Duke, the great English blood-hound, of which Belle had often spoken, saying how loving and good Duke was to her, although he was fierce and unfriendly with strangers.

But no, all coaxing proved useless: the dog stood his ground and would not suffer her to pass, even giving a low growl and seizing the skirt of her dress when she tried once more to do so.

Bessie was dreadfully frightened, and was about to call aloud for help, when she saw Mr. Powers coming towards her from the house. As he came down the path, a great snake glided from beneath some low bushes on the other side, passed swiftly over the narrow path, and would have been out of sight in an instant, had not the dog, suddenly all alert, bounded forward, seized it by the back of the neck, and giving it a violent shake, left it lying dead.

“How is this, dear child?” said Mr. Powers, looking from the dog and snake to the child. “Old Ben told me he had seen you and Belle going to the burying-ground. Where is Belle?”

“Yes, sir, we did,” answered Bessie; “and Belle is there now, waiting for you to come to her mamma’s grave. I was just coming to tell you, and that dog stopped me. He’s a pretty naughty dog; he wouldn’t let me go on, and he killed the poor snake that did not do a bit of harm, but was just running away as fast as he could.”

“Duke knew he would do harm if he but found the chance, my child,” said Mr. Powers. “That is a very venomous snake, and the dog’s care may have saved you from being badly bitten. Good Duke! brave fellow!” and Mr. Powers patted the dog’s head. “It is years and years since we have seen a snake of this kind upon the plantation, and I hope it may be long before we see another. You and Belle have each escaped a great danger this morning, Bessie. I am glad too that old Duke was not bitten.”

Bessie was very grateful to Duke now, and she too patted and caressed him. He seemed to think himself, that he had performed a great feat, as indeed he had; and kept looking up at his master and thrusting his nose into his hand as if to call for more thanks. Bessie’s attentions he received more coolly, though he permitted them.

“Run up to the house now, you steady little woman,” said Mr. Powers: “your mother is wondering where you can be, though she said you were to be trusted not to get into mischief. It is a good thing to have such a character, Bessie.”

When Duke saw that Bessie and his master were going in different directions, he seemed to be divided in his own mind as to which one he had better accompany. But after looking from one to the other he seemed to decide that Bessie needed his protection, and trotted gravely along by her side till she reached the house, when he turned about and raced after his master.

Bessie went in and told her story, but so simply and with so little fuss that her mother had no idea of the danger she had been in, till Mr. Powers came with Belle and told how she, as well as Belle, had been mercifully preserved from harm that morning.

When Belle came back with her father, she was quite composed, and soon became cheerful again, though she was rather more quiet than usual all the morning.

As soon as the party were rested after their drive, they all went out for a walk about the place. Mr. Powers’ estate was a rice plantation, and the children were greatly interested in going through the mills and seeing how the rice, so familiar to them as an article of food, was prepared for the market. They were particularly so, in watching the husking of the rice. The grain was stored on the second story of the buildings, in great boxes or bins. There was a little sliding-door in each of these, just above the bottom of the bin; and when the men were ready to go to work, a trough was placed leading from that, through a trap-door, to a hopper on the floor below. Then the bin door was opened, and the rice in its brown husks slid through the trough into the hopper beneath, and from thence into the mill, on each side of which stood a man who turned the arms of the mill. In this, the outer husk was stripped from the rice; then it passed through another wide, covered trough, into the sifting or winnowing machine. This was a large box with a wheel at the bottom which turned the rice over and over. As it came to the top, the chaff was blown away by a great “four sided fan,” as Bessie called it, made of four pieces of canvas stretched in different directions, and fixed upon a roller which was turned round by a man, and fanned away the light husks broken from the grain on its passage through the mill. But this was only the outer husk; and it had to go down a third trough into another mill, where the inner covering was taken off; then through a second fanning machine, from which it came out clean and white; and lastly into a third building, where it was led into another range of bins, till it should be necessary to put it into the bags and barrels in which it was sent to market.

Maggie, as usual, wanted to “help;” and the good-natured colored men who were about let her try her hand at just what she chose, provided it was safe for her. Indeed, all the children, even Belle, to whom the amusement was not new, were greatly pleased to pull up the sliding panels of the bins, and see the rice come pouring down into the mill-hopper, and to thrust their hands and arms into the white grain, and shovel it into the bags. So entertained were they with this business, that the older people walked on when they had satisfied their own curiosity, leaving the children in the care of old Cato, who promised to see that they came to no harm.

“We’ve done a whole lot of work, Mr. Powers,” said Maggie, when they were called back to the house to dinner. “I think your men must be pretty glad we came.”

“Yes,” said Lily: “we’ve most filled two bags and a barrel.”

“And we didn’t spill very much either,” said Bessie, who was at that moment laboring away with a wooden shovel, on which she contrived to take up about two table-spoonsful of rice.

“Capital!” said Mr. Powers: “you’ve earned your dinner to-day, have you not?”

Whether the dinners were fairly earned or no, the exercise had given them all good appetites, and they were not sorry to go in and take their seats at the well-furnished table.

VI

LETTERS

Maggie had seized the opportunity when Bessie was not near, to ask Mr. Powers for the Spanish moss.

“Mr. Powers,” she said, “is not that moss private moss?”

“Private moss? How private, Maggie?” said the gentleman.

“I mean is it not your own to do what you like with?”

“Certainly: if growing upon my trees and on my grounds can make it mine, it is, dear?”

“Then could you let me have some of it, quite a good deal?” said Maggie, to whom it had been a great effort to ask this; but the thought of pleasing Bessie upheld her courage.

“Oh! to be sure; a whole wagon-load if you want it,” said Mr. Powers, smiling, and without the least idea that Maggie would take his words almost literally.

The next thing was to ask mamma’s consent to carry it home, and this also was obtained without difficulty; Mrs. Bradford having no idea of the extent of Maggie’s ideas, and supposing she only wanted a small quantity as a curiosity.

Accordingly, Maggie took the other children into her confidence as soon as they were all sent out again to play under Daphne’s care. Bessie was delighted with the plan, and kissed and thanked her many times; and the other two were quite ready to lend their aid.

So they all set to work to gather the moss, Daphne, too, giving a helping hand, at her little lady’s request; though as she saw the great pile they heaped together, she was more than doubtful as to the use of such exertion. To gather it might be allowed, – it would never be missed from the trees, – but to carry it home was another thing.

But she let them take their own way; for she could never bear to refuse Belle any thing, least of all to-day, when Belle had come and put her arms around her neck, and laid her soft fair cheek against her old nurse’s dark one; telling her she was “sorry for every time she had slapped her; but she would never do it again, for Jesus was going to help her, and mamma would ask Him to, she was sure.”

So if Belle had asked to dance upon Daphne’s head, or do any other extraordinary or unheard-of thing, I think the old woman would have contrived in some way to grant her darling’s wish; and she meekly stood pulling off the long, gray, pendant mosses, and heaping them in the little, eager, outstretched arms which returned to her again and again.

Great was the amazement of the grown people to see the procession which appeared, when at last the carriages came to the door to take them back to the city, and the children were called to make ready.

First came a negro lad whom Maggie and Belle had pressed into the service, showing his two rows of white teeth, and rolling up his eyes with enjoyment of the fun; while he pushed before him a small hand-cart filled with the precious material, which was to make such a lovely “Bessie’s Bower” of the familiar little room far away at the North; next Bessie and Belle trotting along, half hidden beneath the moss which Maggie had heaped in their arms and around their necks; then followed Maggie herself, and Lily, toiling away at a large wheelbarrow piled with the spoil; old Daphne bringing up the rear, also carrying her share and looking rather sheepish.

“Here’s ‘Birnam wood come to Dunsinane,’” said Mr. Bradford, laughing, as he first perceived the approaching show. “What are the little ones about? Some freak of Maggie’s, doubtless. What a busy, contriving little head it is. What is all that for, Maggie?” as the children came within hearing.

“To take home to New York to make a bower for Bessie in our room, papa. Mamma gave us leave, and Mr. Powers said we might take all we wanted,” answered Maggie, not in the least doubting that she was quite secure with both these safe-guards.