18. Kit and Buzzy Devise a Scheme

It was noon before they reached Ponchas, although they might have gone ever so much faster if every new flower by the way had not coaxed them to linger. They camped at the base to eat their lunch and then Kit and Ingeborg went hunting the Cavalier’s grave. It was Hedda who found it when she brought water from the spring house that had been built over a live spring gushing out at the base of the rock. Near by was a heap of gray moss-covered rock piled into a cairn, with a rugged rock cross at the head. On it were cut out the words:

He succored us The Cavalier 1679

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“Well, I do think they might have told us more than that,” Jean said, when the others came to look at it. “Perhaps, though, this would have pleased him better.”

They stood for a few moments gazing at the quiet resting place, wondering what the Cavalier’s real story was.

“I think his servant could have told us if he had wanted to,” Etoile said wisely. “I’ll ask my dad about him. He knows many of the old stories of the places around here. He came here from Canada when he was a very little boy. There were wolves around in the wintertime, and the spring came earlier then. He has found arbutus as early as the first week in March.”

When they started back they sang along the road, first the songs that all of them knew, and then Hedda sang two strange Icelandic songs her mother had taught her, lullabies with a low minor strain running through them. She had a strong, sweet voice, and sang with much feeling.

After hearing the other girls Jean said they ought to have a glee club, even if they met only once a month.

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“Just for music. Mom told me that music is the universal language that everyone understands. Let’s meet at our house next week, and we can start learning the folk songs of other countries. Etoile can teach us French songs, Ingeborg and Astrid the Swedish ones, and Hedda the songs of Iceland. We could learn a great deal that way and enjoy ourselves at the same time.”

“I think we ought to meet somewhere else, not all the time at your house, Jean,” Etoile demurred in her courteous French way. “We would love to have you come any time.”

“Then we will come, won’t we, girls?” Jean said. “And Lucy will enjoy that because she can sing too, and it will be near home for her.”

But the next few weeks were filled with home activities and it was hard to squeeze in time for all that they had outlined. There were berries to can and preserve, and Ralph McRae prolonged his stay, but only on one condition—that he be allowed to take hold of the farm, with Buzzy’s help, and manage the haying and cultivating for them.

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“I had no idea a man could be so handy,” Jean declared. “He’s mended the sink, and he’s burned up the rubbish at the end of the lane, and he put new roofing on the hen houses, and he even climbed into the big elm and put up Doris’ swing for her.”

Kit smiled to herself at this, for secretly she thought Ralph McRae was just right for Jean. And she, too, liked him enormously, he was like the big brother she’d always wanted. She resolved to talk it over with Buzzy, who had become her fast friend, and see if together they could work out some scheme.

“He’s very capable,” Kit agreed. “I think by the time he goes we will have everything on the place mended and repaired.”

“He’s a good doctor too,” replied Jean. “Dad’s been so much better since he came. I wish when he goes back to Saskatoon that he’d take Buzzy with him. He’s got his heart set on going West.”

“Yes,” agreed Kit, “it would be wonderful for Buzzy. Not having a father he should have the companionship of an older man.”

“What do you mean ‘an older man’?” said Jean indignantly. “To listen to you, a person would think Ralph was a decrepit old man of thirty-five. He’s only twenty-four.”

“How do you know how old he is? Did you ask him?”

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“No. Becky told me. And I don’t think that’s old at all.”

It took three days to cut the hay, even with the girls and Tommy helping Buzzy and Ralph. One morning when Buzzy and Kit were working together apart from the others, Kit saw her opportunity to discuss her plan for Jean. Buzzy regarded the idea disdainfully at first, but Kit seemed so anxious he rather half-heartedly agreed to do what he could.

Buzzy had a brilliant if indefinite plan to offer. “Look, Kit,” he began. “It’s almost certain that Mom will let me go back to Saskatoon with Ralph. We’ve talked it over and Mother knows how much I want to learn about ranching. Maybe when we get out there, you and Jean could come out and visit us.”

“Wel-l,” Kit said dubiously, “it’s an awfully long way and the trip would cost too much. Besides, he’s here now. Can’t you think of something that would get results right away?”

“Gosh, what are you trying to do, marry her off or something?”

“Of course not, silly. What would I want to do that for? I’m going to miss you, Buzzy,” she added irrelevantly.

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“I won’t be leaving until the end of July, so don’t get mournful, yet.”

Later that day, Kit’s confidence in Buzzy was restored, when he came up with a pail of spring water and remarked to Jean, “Say, if you go down where Ralph’s cutting now, you’ll see a bobwhite’s nest and speckled eggs. Don’t take any, though.” And Jean ran off to inspect the nest. “Is that what you meant, Kit?” he said, after Jean had gone.

“You’re getting the idea.”

Ralph was almost finished cutting the hay when Jean ran up. “Buzzy said you found a bird’s nest over here. I came to see it.”

“It’s over this way. Come on, I’ll show it to you,” Ralph said, taking her hand.

“Gee,” said Jean, when he had pointed out the nest with the three speckled eggs, “the country holds so many surprises. Where I used to live we never saw things like this, except in the educational movies they showed us at school. Even in the short time we’ve lived here, I’ve learned so much about the outdoors. Why, now I can name the birds I hear singing in the woods and recognize the wildflower plants even when they’re not in bloom. It’s really amazing.”

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“I know,” said Ralph, looking down at her and smiling. “Even I have learned a good deal during my visit. It’s much different from the prairies that I’m used to.”

“Really?” said Jean, returning his gaze. “Tell me what the country out there is like. You haven’t said much about it, you know.”

So Ralph began telling her of his work on the ranch. “I wish you could see it, Jeannie, it’s really beautiful, those rolling prairies and the cattle roaming over the land.”

It was nearly time for supper, so the two walked back to the house together, leaving the others to bring in the wagonload of hay. Ralph went on to talk of other things and by the time they reached the house, Jean felt as though she had known him a long, long time instead of only a few short weeks.

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