Russ and Rose Bunker had slipped out of the house on the hill without saying a word to anybody as to where they were going. Since coming to the Meiggs Plantation there had been a certain amount of laxness in regard to what the children did. They had a freedom that Mother Bunker never allowed when they were at home.
Because the Armatage children went and came as they wished, the little Bunkers began to do likewise. The house was so big, too, that the children might be playing a long way from the room in which their mother and father and Mr. Frane Armatage and his wife sat.
The servants who were supposed to keep some watch upon the children were now allin the quarters. Servants in the South seldom sleep in "the big house." And perhaps Mother Bunker forgot this fact.
At any rate, when she came to look for her brood late in the evening she found the four little ones fast asleep in their beds, as she had expected them to be. But Rose was not with Phillis and Alice Armatage, and Russ's bed was likewise empty.
"Where are those children?" Mother Bunker demanded of Daddy, when she had run downstairs again. "Do you know? They should be in bed."
"They were in the library earlier in the evening," Mrs. Armatage said. "I think they were writing again."
"Writing?" repeated Mother Bunker. "Making more of those signs to set up at the burned house?"
Mr. Armatage chuckled. "Those won't do much good. Sneezer never could read writing."
"Let us ask Mammy. Rose and Russ may be with her," suggested Mrs. Armatage.
Upstairs went the two ladies and intoMammy June's room. There was a night light burning there, but nobody was with the old woman.
"Lawsy me!" exclaimed the old nurse when Mrs. Bunker asked her. "I ain't seen them childern since I had my supper. No'm. They ain't been here."
The house was searched from cellar to garret by the two gentlemen. Meanwhile the anxious mother and her hostess went to the library. Russ had left there some spoiled sheets of cardboard with some of the letters printed on them. It was easy to see the attempt he and Rose had made to print plainly a notice to Sneezer, Mammy June's absent son, telling him that his mother was at the big house.
"The dear things!" said Mrs. Armatage. "Your boy and girl are very kind, Mrs. Bunker. They want to relieve Mammy's trouble."
"They have gone down there to-night to stick up those signs!" cried Mrs. Bunker, inspired by a new thought.
"Well, I reckon nothing will hurt 'em,"said her friend soothingly. "I'll tell Mr. Armatage and he will go down there and get them."
This idea impressed both the men when they came back from their unsuccessful search of the house.
The two men walked briskly along the trail to the burned cabin. The stars gave them light enough to see all about the clearing when they arrived. Not a sign of Russ or Rose did they find.
"Do you suppose they went home some other way?" asked Daddy Bunker.
"I don't know. I hope they haven't wandered into the thicket."
As Mr. Armatage spoke both men heard the terrible scream that had first startled Russ and Rose. Mr. Bunker fairly jumped.
"That can't be the children!" he ejaculated.
The way his companion looked at him told the children's father a good deal. Mr. Bunker seized Mr. Armatage's arm.
"Tell me! What is it?" he asked.
"Something that hasn't been heard around here for years," said the planter, his voice trembling a little. "It's the cry of a panther."
Mr. Bunker, although he was practically a city man, had hunted a good deal and had been in the wilder parts of the country very often. He knew how terribly dangerous a panther might be on occasion; but he likewise knew that ordinarily they would not attack human beings. Two little children lost in the woods in which a panther was roaming up and down was, however, a fearful thing.
"Get a gun and the hands!" exclaimed Mr. Bunker. "If Russ and Rose have mistaken the way home, and are in that timber, they may be in peril."
Mr. Armatage started off on a run for the quarters. He knew that some of his hands had guns, and the quarters were nearer than the big house.
Daddy Bunker, although he was unarmed, started directly into the woods, trying to mark his course by the repeated screams of the hungry panther. He might have been lost himself, for there was not much light to mark the way; but Daddy Bunker could judge the situation of the screaming panther much better than Russ and Rose had been able to.
He hurried on, gripping a good-sized clubthat he had found. But, of course, he knew better than to attack a panther with a club. He might throw the stick at the animal, however, and frighten it away.
Russ and Rose had gone a long way into the thicket. The panther did not scream often. So Daddy Bunker did not make much progress in the right direction. By and by he had to stop and wait for help, or for the panther to scream again.
He heard finally many voices at the edge of the thicket. Then he began to see the blaze of torches. A party of colored people—men and boys—with torches and guns, followed Mr. Armatage.
In addition, all the hunting dogs on the plantation were scouring the timber. Bobo, the big hound, was at the head of this pack. He struck the scent of the panther at last, and his long and mournful howl was almost as awe-inspiring as the cry of the panther.
"Come on, Bunker!" shouted Mr. Armatage, when the party had overtaken the Northern man. "The dogs are the best leaders. Bobo has got a scent for any kind of trail. Come on!"
The negroes shouted and swung their torches. Perhaps they made so much noise and had so many lights because they somewhat feared the "ha'nts" that many of them talked about and believed in.
But the two white men were not thinking of ghosts. They feared what might have happened to the two children if they had met the panther.
Just at this time, too, Russ and Rose were not thinking of ghosts. The panther was not at all ghostly. He had four great paws, each armed with claws that seemed quite capable of tearing to pieces the roof boards of the cabin the children had taken refuge in.
"He'll get to us! He will! He will!" Rose cried over and over.
"No, he won't," said her brother, but his voice trembled. "I—I don't see how he can."
"Let's run out again while he's on the roof, and run home," said Rose.
"We don't know the way home," objected her brother.
"We can find it. I don't want to be shut up here with that cat."
"It's not so bad. He hasn't got in yet."
But Rose ran to the door, and then she made another discovery that added to her fright. The door could not be opened! The spring lock on the outside had snapped and there was no way of springing the bolt from inside the shack.
"Now see what we've done!" she wailed. "Russ Bunker! we are shut into the place, and can't get out, and that thing will come down and claw us all to pieces."
With this Rose cast herself upon the ground and could not be comforted. In fact, at the moment, Russ could not think of a word to say that would comfort his sister. He was just as much frightened as Rose was.
Greatly as the two little Bunkers were alarmed, and as much as their father and Mr. Armatage worried about their safety, they really were not so very badly off. Not only were the roof boards of the hut in which Russ and Rose had taken refuge sound, but soon the panther stopped clawing at the boards.
It heard the crowd of men coming and the baying of the hounds. It stood up, stretched its neck as it listened, snarled a defiance at Bobo and his mates, and then leaped into the nearest tree and so away, from tree to tree, into the deeper fastnesses of the wood.
The dogs might follow the scent of the panther on the ground to the clearing where the hut stood; but beyond that place they could not follow, for the wary cat had left no trail upon the ground.
At first, when the dogs came baying to the spot, Russ and Rose were even more frightened than before. The dogs' voices sounded very savage. But soon Bobo smelled the children out and leaped, whining, against the door of the cabin. He was doing that when Daddy Bunker and Mr. Armatage and the negroes reached the clearing.
"The creature is in that hut," said Daddy Bunker.
"Not much!" returned his friend. "Bobo would not make those sounds if it was a panther. Mr. Panther has beat it through the trees. It is something else in the charcoal burner's hut. Come on!"
He strode over to the door, snapped back the lock, and threw the door open. The torchlight flooded the interior of the place and revealed Russ and Rose Bunker, still fearful, clinging to each other as they crouched in a corner of the hut.
"Well!" exclaimed Daddy Bunker. "Of all the children that ever were born, you two manage to get into the greatest adventures! What are you doing here?"
"A big cat chased us in here, Daddy," said Russ.
"And he tried to get at us through the roof," added Rose.
Daddy Bunker and Mr. Armatage looked at each other pretty seriously.
"We didn't get here a minute too soon," said the planter.
"I believe you," returned Mr. Bunker gravely. "This might have been a very serious affair."
But in the morning, after Russ and Rose were refreshed by sleep and had told the particulars of their adventure at the breakfast table, the youngsters really took pride in what had happened to them. The smaller children looked upon Russ and Rose as being very wonderful.
"What would you have done, Russ, if that big cat had got into the house with you and Rose?" Vi asked.
"But he didn't," was the boy's reply.
"Well, if he had what would you have done?"
But that proved to be another question that Vi Bunker never got answered. This was so often the case!
"So you thought it was a ghost at first, and then it turned out to be a big cat," Laddie said to Rose. "I think I could make up a riddle about that."
"All right," said Rose, with a sigh. "You can make up all the riddles you want to about it. Making a riddle about a panther is lots better than being chased by one."
Laddie, however, did not make the riddle. In fact he forgot all about it in the excitement of what directly followed the rescue of Russ and Rose from the wild animal. Mr. Bunker felt so happy about the recovery of the two children that he determined to do something nice for the colored people who had so enthusiastically aided in hunting for Russ and Rose.
"Let 'em have another big dance and dinner, such as they had Christmas eve," Mr. Bunker suggested to the planter. "I'll pay the bill."
"Just as you say, Charley," agreed Mr. Armatage. "That will please 'em all about as much as anything you could think of. I'll get some kind of music for them to dance by, and we'll all go down and watch 'em. Your young ones certainly do like dancing."
This was true. And especially was Russ Bunker anxious to learn to dance as some of the colored boys did. He was constantly practising the funny pigeon wing that he had seen Sam do in Aunt Jo's kitchen, in Boston. But the white boy could not get it just right.
"Never mind, Russ," Laddie said approvingly, "you do it better and better all the time. I guess you can do it by and by—three or four years from now, maybe." But three or four years seemed a long time to Russ.
When they went down to the quarters the evening of the party Russ determined to try to dance as well as Frane, Junior, and the negro boys.
Mammy June was much better now, and she was up and about. To please her Mr. Armatage had a phaeton brought around and the old nurse was driven to the scene of the celebration. Mun Bun and Margy rode in the phaeton with Mammy June and were very proud of this particular honor.
The old nurse was loved by everybody on the plantation, both white and black. Mother Bunker said that Mammy held "quite a levee" at the quarters, sitting in state in her phaeton where she could see all that went on.
The dinner was what the negroes called a barbecue. The six little Bunkers had never seen such a feast before, for this that their father gave them was even more elaborate than the dinner the planter had given his hands at Christmas.
There was a great fire in a pit, and over this fire a whole pig was roasted on a spit, and poultry, and 'possums that the boys had killed, and rabbits. There were sweet potatoes, of course. How the little Northerners liked them! The white children had a table to themselves and ate as heartily as their colored friends.
Then a place was cleared for the dancing. Mammy June's phaeton was drawn to the edge of this dance floor. The music struck up, and there was a general rush for partners.
After a while the dancers got more excited, and many of them danced alone, "showing off," Frane, Junior, said. They did have the funniest steps! Russ Bunker was highly delighted with this kind of dancing.
"Now let me! Let me dance!" he cried, starting out from his seat near Mammy June. "A boy showed me in Boston how to cut a pigeon wing. I guess I can do it now."
"You can't cut no pigeon wing, w'ite boy," said 'Lias, Mammy's grandson.
"I can try," said Russ bravely, and he danced with much vigor for several minutes.
"Oh, my, he done cut Sneezer's pigeon wing!" cried one of the darkies presently.
"What's dat? Cut Sneezer's pigeon wing?" cried Mammy June, sitting up to watch Russ more closely.
"Dat's jest what he's doin'."
Russ continued to dance, and did his best to imitate the colored boy at Aunt Jo's house. He was hard at it when Mammy June, with her eyes almost popping out of her head, cried:
"For de lan's sake, boy, come here! I want to ask you sumpin."
Russ was in the midst of cutting the pigeon wing again, and this time he was fortunate enough to imitate Sam in almost every particular. Then he stopped and walked over to the old colored woman's side.
"How come you try to do it that way, Russ Bunker?" asked Mammy June as Russ approached the phaeton. "I ain't never seen you do that before. Who showed you?"
"Sam. The boy in Boston. He said he was called after his Uncle Sam. He came from down South here, you know, Mammy."
"Was he a cullud boy?" demanded the old woman earnestly.
"Of course he was. Or he couldn't dance this way," and Russ tried to cut the pigeon wing again.
"Wait! Wait!" gasped the old woman. "Tell me mo' about that boy who showed you. You ain't got it right. But dat's the way my Sneezer done it. Only he knows just how."
"Why, Mammy June!" cried Rose, "you don't suppose that Sam can dance just like your Sneezer?"
The old nurse was wiping the tears from her cheeks. Her voice was much choked with emotion as well. Mrs. Bunker came over to see what the matter was.
"Yo' please tell me, Ma'am, all about datboy dese children say was in Boston? Please, Ma'am! Ain't nobody know how to dance dat way but Sneezer. And he didn't like his name, Ebenezer Caliper Spotiswood Meiggs. No'm, he didn't like it at all, 'cause we-all shortened it to Sneezer.
"He had an Uncle Sam, too. My brudder. Lives in Birmingham. Sneezer always said he wisht he'd been born wid a name like Uncle Sam."
"Perhaps it is the same boy," Mother Bunker said kindly. "Tell me just how Ebenezer looks, Mammy June. Then I can be sure."
From the way Mammy described her youngest son, even the children recognized him as Sam the chore boy at Aunt Jo's in Boston. Mun Bun and Margy, when the matter was quite settled that Sam was Sneezer, began to take great pride in the fact that it was their bright eyes that had first spied the colored boy walking in the snow and had been the first to invite him into Aunt Jo's house.
"He will be there when we go to Boston again, Mammy June," Rose said, warmly. "And Daddy and Mother will send him hometo you. I guess he'll be glad to come. Only, maybe you'd better stop calling him Sneezer. He likes Sam best."
"Sure enough, honey," cried Mammy June, "I'll call him anything he likes 'long as he comes home and stays home with me. Yes, indeedy! I'd call him Julius Cæsar Mark Antony Meiggs, if he wants I should."
"But maybe," said Russ thoughtfully, "he wouldn't like that name any better than the other. I know I shouldn't."
In a short time it was a settled matter that Mammy June's lost boy would return. For she could tell Mrs. Bunker so many things about the absent one that there was not a shadow of a doubt that the Sam working for Aunt Jo would prove to be Mammy June's boy.
The holidays on the Meiggs Plantation ended, therefore, all the more pleasantly because of this discovery. The plantation was a fine place to be on, so the six little Bunkers thought. But when Daddy Bunker announced that his business with his old friend, the planter, was satisfactorily completed, the children were not sorry to think of returning North.
"This doesn't seem like winter at all down here," said Russ. "We want to slide downhill, and roll snowballs, and make snowmen."
"And it is nice to go sleigh riding," Rose added. "They never can do that on the Meiggs Plantation."
"But you can make riddles here," put in Laddie.
Vi might have added that she could ask questions anywhere!
As for Margy and Mun Bun, they were contented to go anywhere that Mother Bunker and Daddy went. Something exciting was always happening to all of the six little Bunkers. But we will let you guess, with Russ and Rose and Vi and Laddie and Margy and Mun Bun, where the next exciting adventures of the half dozen youngsters from Pineville will take place.
Then came the time to leave the plantation. The children had many little keepsakes to take home with them and they promised to send other keepsakes to the Armatage children as soon as they got back to Pineville.
"It's been just the nicest outing that evercould be!" said Rose, when the good-byes were being spoken. "I'm sure I'll never forget this lovely place."
"I's coming back some day if they want me," put in Mun Bun quickly. And at this everybody smiled.
Then all climbed into the automobile which was to take them to the railroad station. There was a honk of the horn, and amid the waving of hands and a hearty cheer, the six little Bunkers and their parents started on their journey for home.
Author of "The Bobbsey Twins Books,""The Bunny Brown Series,""The Make-Believe Series," Etc.
Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding
Delightful stories for little boys and girls which sprung into immediate popularity. To know the six little Bunkers is to take them at once to your heart, they are so intensely human, so full of fun and cute sayings. Each story has a little plot of its own—one that can be easily followed—and all are written in Miss Hope's most entertaining manner. Clean, wholesome volumes which ought to be on the bookshelf of every child in the land.
SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDMA BELL'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT AUNT JO'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COUSIN TOM'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDPA FORD'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT UNCLE FRED'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT CAPTAIN BEN'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COWBOY JACK'S
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
Author of the popular "Bobbsey Twin Books" and "Bunny Brown" Series.
UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS.
These tales take in the various adventures participated in by several bright, up-to-date girls who love outdoor life. They are clean and wholesome, free from sensationalism, and absorbing from the first chapter to the last.
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALEOr Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKEOr Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAROr The Haunted Mansion of Shadow Valley.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMPOr Glorious Days on Skates and Ice Boats.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDAOr Wintering in the Sunny South.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEWOr The Box that Was Found in the Sand.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLANDOr A Cave and What it Contained.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICEOr Doing Their Bit for Uncle Sam.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT THE HOSTESS HOUSEOr Doing Their Best for the Soldiers.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT BLUFF POINTOr A Wreck and A Rescue.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT WILD ROSE LODGEOr The Hermit of Moonlight Falls.THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN THE SADDLEOr The Girl Miner of Gold Run.
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
For Little Men and Women
Author of "The Bunny Brown" Series, Etc.
12mo. DURABLY BOUND. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING
Copyright publications which cannot be obtained elsewhere. Books that charm the hearts of the little ones and of which they never tire.
THE BOBBSEY TWINSTHE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRYTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORETHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOLTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGETHE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOATTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOKTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOMETHE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITYTHE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLANDTHE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEATHE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
Author of the Popular "Bobbsey Twins" Books
Wrapper and text illustrations drawn byFLORENCE ENGLAND NOSWORTHY
12mo. DURABLY BOUND. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING
These stories by the author of the "Bobbsey Twins" Books are eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue.
Bunny was a lively little boy, very inquisitive. When he did anything, Sue followed his leadership. They had many adventures, some comical in the extreme.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUEBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA'S FARMBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUSBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP REST-A-WHILEBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU'S CITY HOMEBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE BIG WOODSBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON AN AUTO TOURBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR SHETLAND PONYBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE GIVING A SHOWBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CHRISTMAS TREE COVE
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS.
These spirited tales, convey in a realistic way, the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good.
TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLETOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIPTOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOATTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUTTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGETOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERSTOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICETOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACERTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLETOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLDTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDERTOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITYTOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERATOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHTTOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNONTOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONETOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIPTOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNELTOM SWIFT IN THE LAND OF WONDERSTOM SWIFT AND HIS WAR TANKTOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR SCOUTTOM SWIFT AND HIS UNDERSEA SEARCHTOM SWIFT AMONG THE FIRE FIGHTERSTOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC LOCOMOTIVE
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING. INDIVIDUAL COLORED WRAPPERS.
Moving pictures and photo plays are famous the world over, and in this line of books the reader is given a full description of how the films are made—the scenes of little dramas, indoors and out, trick pictures to satisfy the curious, soul-stirring pictures of city affairs, life in the Wild West, among the cowboys and Indians, thrilling rescues along the seacoast, the daring of picture hunters in the jungle among savage beasts, and the great risks run in picturing conditions in a land of earthquakes. The volumes teem with adventures and will be found interesting from first chapter to last.
THE MOVING PICTURE BOYSTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE WESTTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COASTTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN THE JUNGLETHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS IN EARTHQUAKE LANDTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AND THE FLOODTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS AT PANAMATHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS UNDER THE SEATHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE WAR FRONTTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON FRENCH BATTLEFIELDSMOVING PICTURE BOYS' FIRST SHOWHOUSEMOVING PICTURE BOYS AT SEASIDE PARKMOVING PICTURE BOYS ON BROADWAYTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS' OUTDOOR EXHIBITIONTHE MOVING PICTURE BOYS' NEW IDEA
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
Transcriber's NotesObvious punctuation errors repaired.One instance each of "white-washed" and "whitewashed" appears in the original and were retained.Christmas Eve is capitalised once and lowercased once. This was retained.The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
One instance each of "white-washed" and "whitewashed" appears in the original and were retained.
Christmas Eve is capitalised once and lowercased once. This was retained.
The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text willappear.