Page 82 - A Little Bush Maid

"For soups and stews, and French regouts, Nell Cook is famous still--?"
finished Norah delightedly. "However did you know, Mr. Hermit?"

The Hermit laughed, but a shade crossed his brow. "T used to read the

Legends with a dear old friend many years before you were born, Miss
Norah," he said gravely. "T often wonder whether he still reads them."

"Ready?" Jim interrupted, springing up the bank. "Billy understands about
feeding the ponies. Don’t forget, mind, Billy."

"Plenty!" quoth Billy, and the party went on its way. The Hermit led them
rapidly over logs and fallen trees, up and down gullies, and through tangles

of thickly growing scrub. Once or twice it occurred to Jim that they were
trusting very confidingly to this man, of whom they knew absolutely

nothing; and a faint shade of uneasiness crossed his mind. He felt
responsible, as the eldest of the youngsters, knowing that his father had
placed him in charge, and that he was expected to exercise a certain amount

of caution. Still it was hard to fancy anything wrong, looking at the
Hermit’s serene face, and the trusting way in which Norah’s brown little

hand was placed in his strong grasp. The other boys were quite unconscious
of any uncomfortable ideas, and Jim finally dismissed his fears as uncalled
for.

"T thought," said the Hermit, suddenly turning, "of taking you to see my

camp as we went, but on second thoughts T decided that it would be better
to get straight to work, as you young people want some fish, T suppose, to
take home. Perhaps we can look in at my camp as we come back. Tt’s not

far from here."

"Which way do you generally go to the river?" Norah asked.

"Why, anyway," the Hermit answered. "Generally in this direction. Why do

you ask, Miss Norah?"

"T was wondering," Norah said. "We haven’t crossed or met a single track."