She didn’t finish her sentence. Butchie, a picture of innocence, was fast asleep.
The boys carried their paper plates down to the lake front and built a fire with them.
“I’m a heap big Indian chief,” chanted Davey. He danced around and around the blaze.
“Indians used to dance here a hundred years ago,” said Jane. “I know, because we found arrowheads. Do you remember, Billy, when the farmer uncovered all those wonderful Indian relics while he was plowing? The level of the lake was higher then. They must have had happy celebrations just like we do now, and they must have loved this part of the country very much. Just think how filled the lake must have been with fish, and the woods over there on the western shore were filled with deer and rabbits and pheasants, and....”
“Bears,” interrupted James. “Big brown bears. Here comes Dad. Let’s ask him to tell us a story about the Indians who used to live here.”
Dad sat down cross-legged before the dying fire and told them a long story about an Indian who caught a pickerel who could talk. The story went on and on until it was quite dark and the stars came out. Mom came down and chased them off to bed.
“There’s going to be a big day tomorrow,” she said. “We have to get the weeds out of the garden.”
Jane came back to the porch after she was ready for bed, and found Mom reading. “Would you like a sandwich,” she asked. “The failure of my cake left me hungry.”
“Make one for me too, Petunia,” said Dad.
The kitchen seemed warm, and as Janie opened the window, a robin flew away. “Our friend is back,” called Jane. “That same robin has been making her nest here on the window sill for a long time now. We’ll have to be careful about opening the window. She doesn’t like to be disturbed.”
She finished her sandwiches and carried them back to the porch. “Could I have Katy visit me this year, Mom?”
“Yes, Janie. I’ll ask Katy’s mother the next time I see her. Perhaps she can come out to spend the Fourth of July with us. Does that settle all your problems?”
“Yes, Mom, and I’m so sleepy I can hardly stay awake another minute. Good night Daddy. Goodnight Mom. Oh, but it’s nice to be at the lake again.”
It was the twelfth of June. Everyone else was asleep, so Janie dressed quietly and went out into the garden to hoe while it was still cool.