The Richest Heart

Chapter 40

"You be careful up there, Peter McDougal," Martha said seriously. "Goodness knows I don't like you being out all alone." She gave her son a loving glance as he packed his things into a big burlap sack.

"Nothin'll happen to me, Mother," the boy said reassuringly. "Besides, it isn't too far away from Mrs. Winston's house. I can always go there if I need to." He paused as he stuffed a wool blanket into his sack and looked across the room. His littlest brother Otho was zipping around in the living room. He wanted Benjamin to play with him, but the gloomy boy was keeping to himself in a corner of the room. Peter let out a confused sigh. Benjamin still hadn't perked up. He was a gloomy, unhappy boy now. But, even though he was sad, he had stayed as kind as ever. Now and then, he climbed out of his glum silence to help his little brother with something or to answer a question. Peter got back to work and threw the rest of his things together.

"Mother, can I take Benjamin with me?" he asked in a whisper. Martha looked over at him with a look that stated a firm "no."

"You know the answer to that question. Benjamin is too small and you're too reckless. If he went with you I'd be a nervous wreck all night long. I'm going to fret enough as it is."

"But, Benjamin looks so sad. He's gotta get out of the house!" Peter pleaded.

"Then he can go outside and play with Simon," his mother said decidedly. Peter nodded his head in respect and took his burlap sack to the front door. Then, after a quick goodbye, he saddled Storm and rode to the old tool shed. Every day, he was getting more and more attached to that quiet place in the woods. He liked the sound of the song birds in the trees and the rushing noise of the wind at night. He had made the place comfortable and livable. He had built a real bed under the window, piled high with blankets and some of the furs he had tanned. Then there was a roughly built table and one simple chair.

Peter felt good about himself as he jumped off of Storm's back and looked at his shed. It was like his very own cabin; his own home out in the wilderness. It was a very different feeling than the one he had felt the first time he had stayed there. Looking back on that fear-filled night, he had to laugh at himself. He wouldn't be scared tonight. How could he be? The sunshine was all around him and the breeze was singing a gentle song with the chickadees. On a day like this, even the dismal, burnt house and it's sad story couldn't ruin the sun's cheer.

Peter didn't get right to work. He explored the woods, had his lunch and plundered through the burnt house. He had a growing collection of charred odds and ends that he had found there. Each time he went, he thought about going down into the cellar to have another look at the beautiful violin. But he wasn't about to get stuck down there. Climbing that rope had been too hard, and if it broke, he might be stuck in that dark place for hours; maybe even days. Listening to the warning in his heart, he stayed on the safe side. Besides, it wouldn't have done him any good to take another look at the instrument. It wouldn't play a tune.

After checking his trapline, the boy went into the shed and spent hours working with his hides. All alone in the quiet woods, his mind traveled a thousand roads. He had a lot to think about and plan for. But, no matter what path of thought he took, it always seemed to lead him to one question. If he thought about how nice the woods were, he wished that Benjamin was with him to see it. If he thought about the money he would make selling furs to Mrs. Hillenbrand, it made him wish that he could buy something for his brother to cheer him up. That was when the question came: why was Benjamin so sad? His mood had only gotten worse and worse that week. Sometimes he didn't even taste his supper in the evenings. Instead, he would stay in his own little world, curled up in a corner of the room. He didn't say much anymore.