Part 45

“The trouble with feeding game-birds away from houses would be that, even if you knew their runs, and I think I know some pretty well, the feed would most likely blow away or be snowed under unless they ate it right away,” said Jack Todd, Tommy’s second eldest brother.

“Yes, that is one of the difficulties, but I think an idea that I have borrowed, and am trying now for myself, may partly solve the trouble. Look ahead of you, close to the rail fence. What do you see? No; don’t rush to the fence and trample the snow; keep on the lane side.”

“It’s some sort of a tent,” said Tommy; “I thought at first it was just a corn-stack with snow on it.”

“No; it isn’t a tent,” said Everett Judd, going closer; “it’s only bean poles stacked with the vines left hanging, two rows of them, so’s the snow won’t all drift in at one spot.”

“And what else?” asked Gray Lady. “Don’t you see cracked corn and mill sweepings scattered in between the poles? This is a feeding-station for our friends, the game-birds, if we can only make them understand that it is not a form of trap and does not hold a snare in disguise.”

Jack Todd, who had gone close to the tepee on one side, stepping on stones that he might avoid tracking the snow, and was examining the ground intently, suddenly cried out, “There have been mill sweepings here, because I can see some dust, but the grain is all gone, and I guess—no; I’m sure—there have been Grouse about, and they have fed here since snow fell, for there are tracks coming out from under the fence and going back the same way!”

“But how can you tell that they belong to Grouse?” asked Gray Lady, coming close to look at the prints and thinking in her excitement they might have been made by chickens.

“No, they are real Grouse tracks, for they’ve got their spiked snow-shoes on, and here’s the marks of the prickers!” And Jack pointed to the footprints of the brushed claws in triumph.

“This proves two points,” said Gray Lady, “that there are Grouse in the neighbourhood, and that they will take food if it is offered to them in the right way. I should like to put up a dozen of these feeding-stations, if you boys will help; you know the woods and brush-lots better than I do now, and you can select the places that will be suitable for these shelters and find what material there is close at hand of which they can be built.

“When this is done, I shall again have to depend upon you for keeping them supplied with food. If we find that the grain is eaten, I think that it should be renewed three times a week, so if six of you boys will volunteer for the service, two can go together, and it will only make one trip a week for each pair. If the snow is deep, you might possibly arrange to fit some boxes to your sleds to hold food, or, if the shelters are in rough ground, a bag fastened to the shoulders like a pedler’s pack might work well; for, in doing this work on a large scale, merely a pocketful of food will not suffice.”

“I will help,” said Jack Todd, after thinking a moment. “Me, too,” said Everett, and Irving Todd, together; then of course the others followed, Dave and Tommy anxious lest they should be left out, while Bobby and little Jared Hill, though too small to undertake to care for a station alone, were acceptable as companions for the big boys.

“We have the rest of this week, and all of next for a holiday,” said Jack Todd, “so suppose we take a tramp about the hill country on each side of the river valley to Centreville, that’s about five miles, and fetch axes with us. I know most of the people on the way, and, if we put the shelters somewhere near houses, we could distribute the food along, and they would let us keep it in one of the outbuildings, so that it would be handy in stormy weather. I’m pretty sure we can collect stuff enough as we go for the shelters. My uncle, who lives at Hilltop Farm, would give me corn-stacks for three or four. There’s a heap of slab-sides (the outside strip, with the bark, when a log is to be sawn into boards) left to go to pieces up by where the sawmill was last year; they will make fine wigwams, and there are plenty of cedars and birches, with brushy tops, for the rest. Then perhaps the folks along the line might be interested and rig a few up on their own account.”

“Thank you, Jack,” said Gray Lady, warmly; “you have caught the spirit of the idea and improved it already, for if we are to do the game-birds any real good, and establish the feeding plan permanently, the people all ‘along the line,’ as you call it, must be interested until not only Fair Meadows township, and the county, but all the counties in the state, are linked together in the work of restoration.

“Meanwhile, though, of course, everything that is done regularly is work, I really envy you boys some of the fun you will have in your winter tramps; sometimes you will be able to skate nearly all the way upon the river, and sometimes, if the snow is as deep as people are predicting, you may be able to go on snow-shoes.”

“Only I don’t think any of the fellows hereabouts own a pair of snow-shoes,” said Everett.

“Then they are the very things for Jacob to help you make if you come to any of our Saturday meetings,” said Gray Lady. “Jacob was born in Canada, and worked with fur trappers for several years, and though, perhaps, he may not be able to make them as well as when he was a young man, they would surely be better than nothing, and who knows but what one of the many things that the Kind Hearts will organize may be a Snow-shoe Club.”

Thus the big boys of Foxes Corner school found themselves interested and pledged in Gray Lady’s work without a suspicion of the “playing baby” of which they had such dread.

* * * * *

By the time Gray Lady and the boys returned to Swallow Chimney, the girls had opened their bundles, and besides little work-boxes, each with a silver thimble of the right size for the owner, and a pair of scissors that would “cut clean and not haggle,” as Eliza Clausen expressed it, there were books for all. Some were about birds, and others about flowers, trees, butterflies, and the real life out-of-doors that is more wonderful than any fairy-tale. Having disposed of their own presents, with many little shrieks of delight, the girls stood by, waiting for the boys to open their bundles. These were all long and flat, with a bunch in the centre, as if two objects of different shapes were fastened together.

Tommy succeeded in untying his first, skeining up the string so that he might have it for the re-wrapping. A strong, well-made knife, with two blades fell out, and under it was a hammer, a chisel, a half-inch auger, and a medium-sized cross-cut saw. Seeing Tommy’s gifts made the others pull open their packages hastily, with less regard for string and paper, to find that they also had the coveted tools.

“Now,” said Gray Lady, “you boys will be independent of your fathers’ tools when you take a bird-house home to finish, or wish to do a little bit of work for yourselves, as the girls will also be independent of their mothers’ work-boxes and thimbles; because, if the grown-up people are always having their tools borrowed or mislaid, they are apt to have a sort of grudge against both the work and the workers.”

Some of the boys looked at each other rather sheepishly, and wondered how Gray Lady knew that their fathers had said that “since the boys took to carpentering there hadn’t been a hammer or nail to be found nor a saw with the sign of an edge left on it.”

“By and by,” continued Gray Lady, “if you have the desire, you will all have a chance to earn other tools, and also make boxes in which to keep them.

“You may wonder why the Christmas tree bore no candy by way of fruit; that was because part of the fun for this afternoon will be making candy,—caramels, chocolate creams, nut taffy, and old-fashioned pulled molasses rope-candy,—so that, besides the making and tasting, you will all have something that you have made yourselves to give the people at home to-morrow, or put in their stockings if they are hung up. See! here are the boxes that Goldilocks has made to hold the candy!” There upon a tray were two dozen square boxes covered with green-and-white paper, and a row of red-paper hearts pasted across the top of each, with the words, “The Kind Hearts wish you a Merry Christmas,” printed in red.

“Did you make all those boxes yourself, Goldilocks?” asked Sarah Barnes, in amazement; “I don’t see how you could turn the corners so nice.”

“Not the boxes; you can buy them for very little at the factory. I covered them and put the hearts on, but Mother did the printing. It is easy enough if you take time. You see the two years that my feet wouldn’t go, I learned to make my fingers work for both.”

“The fire and pans, sugar, molasses, and nuts are all ready, but, before we become Miss Wilde’s guests and begin, for the candy-making and supper belong to her party, we must hold a short business meeting of the Kind Hearts’ Club, that we may decide how the Christmas money is to be spent.”

Gray Lady then sat down at the end of the room with Mrs. Wilde, while Goldilocks, the president, took her place at the head of the long table, with the vice-president, Miss Wilde, close at hand to prompt. Sarah, the treasurer, and Tommy, the secretary, were on opposite sides of the table facing each other, and all the others sat up very straight, wearing various expressions of importance that were quite amusing.