SOME weeks previous to this, while the campers still thought they had the whole summer before them, a little white kitten with gold spots, had come, seemingly from nowhere, and had sought admission—not to Edwy’s camp—but to his Uncle’s, across the lake.
His Uncle’s wife was the dearest, the most teasable aunt in the world. She was known sometimes as “Aida,” from a pet name one of them had given her. They had never called her Aunt, but always some nice pet name and always pretended they didn’t care a flip for her, but she knew better, for wasn’t she their own mother’s sister, who had also a pet name of her own? And were they not both daughters of this great chum of theirs, who, as their father had told them was entirely their own contemporary and equal, but at the same time they mustn’t tease her or treat her as if they were playing football; and mustn’t touch her pretty white dress with their “candy” fingers.
Edwy was glad that the kitten had come to visit them. He was afraid that the winter would be hard on the poor thing.... Everybody said it could take care of itself, but why couldn’t it take care of itself now? It came every morning, to ask them for food and would give its high-toned purr of satisfaction when they had fed it.
Much as Edwy liked it, he was glad that it had not come to his father’s camp, for they had some little rabbits.
They had brought them, when old enough, from their own home, and had let them run wild through the woods and underbrush, near the woods and the lake.
“But would you believe it, Willard?” he said to his brother, “they come back to our camp, just as soon as they hear my voice shouting to them, half a mile away, and then they begin to show up out of the underbrush.”
It was always jolly at his Aunt’s camp, for in his own camp, he feared the rabbits and the kitten might not agree, and he and Willard were quite as much at home in the one place as the other.
The only time when the kitten had visited their camp on the hill was once, when they had all been away a few days, and when both camps were empty for that length of time.
On coming back, the very first thing they saw, in front of Edwy’s father’s camp, was the little white kitten sitting on the door-step, crying a glad welcome to them, arching its back, and reaching up for them to pet it. Very soon Edwy took the megaphone from its corner and called over the lake....
“Hello!”
The sound of Aida’s voice came floating back.
“Yes: I can hear you.”
“We all thought our little Zephyr was lost, but she is here, all safe and sound; and she’s had a bowl of milk. Willard and I are going to row the boat over the lake, and bring her back to your house, Aida, for that is her real home.”
On reaching the other shore, Aida and Mo-ma were glad to welcome the boys with their pet, for they had all feared she was lost. She had found her way to the other house, along a wood road, they thought, all the way. If she had gone along the borders of the lake, it would have been much nearer, but it was swampy that way, so she must have taken the high road and had made friends with the tame rabbits, not hurting any of them.
The boys were well pleased with the result of their afternoon’s visit, for Zephyr seemed so glad to get home, that she went through all her little antics for them, hiding under the wood pile, then leaping out to surprise them and glancing up in their faces almost as if she were laughing, trying races with them along the wooded shore. After the boys had partaken of the nice little lunch that Aida had planned for them, some cake and berries, crimson raspberries that had grown in the field by the road-side, it was time to take the boat for their homeward trip.
Zephyr followed them to the bank and looked after them as long as there was light enough to see the boat. Aida also, watching them off, and their dear mother outlined against the further shore, waiting their arrival.