Sarah's Search for Treasure Read online

  This time, she ran back to Dorie. The water had soaked through her apron long before she reached them. But Sarah knelt and wiped her wet apron over Dorie’s face.

  “Don’t,” Dorie sat up and glared at Sarah. She glared even harder as Ma and Sarah both started laughing. Even little Gracie joined in.

  Ma hugged Dorie. “You were knocked out for a bit. We’re glad you’re okay. How do you feel?”

  “I have a headache.”

  Ma gave Sarah a worried look, but she told Dorie, “Come. Let’s get you inside.”

  Sarah went to help her. “I can’t walk,” protested Dorie. “My legs are wobbly.”

  “That’s okay,” Ma assured her. “We’ll help you. Dennis put the ponies away.”

  After getting Dorie settled, Sarah realized it was up to her and Dennis to sort the animals. She came out to the barn to find Dennis poking grass through the crates to the rabbits.

  “I like rabbits,” he said. “We never had rabbits before.”

  Sarah sighed. “We never had goats or sheep before either.” But she knelt beside the crate. “They are cute, aren’t they?” Sarah reached for another crate. She heard a hissing right before she felt the scratch. “Hey!” Sarah pulled back quickly then examined the crate without touching it. “Cats!” she exclaimed. “That crate has cats!”

  “Yeah, Jeremy said they couldn’t catch all of them. And he’s afraid the rest will starve. He and Jamie were almost crying.”

  “They’ll probably be all right,” Sarah assured Dennis. “Cats are pretty resilient.”

  “What’s resilient mean?”

  “It means they learn to take care of themselves,” explained Sarah.

  “Kinda like we have to? Huh?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” answered Sarah. “Right now, we better start finding a safe place to put all these animals.”

  Just then, they heard Sparky howling. Dennis dashed to the barn door. “Come quick!” he cried. “The new dogs are killing Sparky!”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Dog Fight

  SARAH RUSHED OUTSIDE TO SEE four big dogs in a tangle. She couldn’t even see Sparky, but she could hear him crying. He was just a puppy! She looked around frantically, and then spotted the buckets of milk she had set down when the Martins and Winslows came. She’d forgotten to take care of it. Sarah grabbed both buckets and ran over to the dogs. Setting down one pail, she dumped the other one over the dogs, yelling as she did. The dogs yelped in surprise. Sarah grabbed the other bucket and swung it against the biggest dog, still yelling. The bucket hit him over the head and milk poured over his head and face. He ran, tucking his tail between his legs and yelping all the way to the orchard.

  Dennis scooped up Sparky, who was wiggling all over and trying to lick the tears on Dennis’ face in between licking off his milk-soaked fur. “He’s okay!” cried Dennis.

  Sarah heard a whine behind her and turned to find one of the dogs a few feet from her. “Dusty!” Sarah cried, recognizing the Winslow’s dog. “Were you trying to hurt Sparky?” Dusty edged forward, her tail wagging rapidly. Sarah reached out and petted the collie. “I thought the dogs were penned up, so they couldn’t follow them home.”

  “They must have gotten out,” Dennis replied.

  Sarah sighed. “We’d better tie them up, or they’ll go back home. What’s the name of the one that ran to the orchard?”

  “Buster. But I’m afraid they’ll hurt Sparky.”

  “I don’t think they meant to hurt him. Here, Buster! Come here, boy!” Sarah called. Soon, the other two dogs appeared. Sarah recognized the two part-German Shepherds as Lassie and Laddie, the Martins’ dogs. Buster must have belonged to one of the neighbors. He came slowly, his tail still tucked between his legs. Sarah guessed him to be a mixed breed, but he was a big dog. His black fur was matted with milk. Sarah kept calling him, as she petted the other dogs. As he neared, Sparky leaped from Dennis’ arms and rushed over to him. Buster stopped short, but Sparky didn’t. Sarah caught her breath, and then released it in a laugh, as Sparky began licking the milk clinging to Buster’s fur. Buster watched awhile, then gave Sparky several good licks with his tongue that almost made Sparky lose his balance.

  Dennis laughed, too. “I guess they’re friends now.”

  “I guess,” Sarah agreed. “I thought Sparky was afraid of them. Evidently they didn’t hurt him. Let’s see if we can make them help us sort animals. I know Dusty is trained pretty well.”

  “So are Lassie and Laddie,” Dennis assured Sarah as they went back to the barn. “I’m glad we made the chicken yard as big as we did. Do you think it’s big enough?”

  “It will have to be for tonight. Let’s sort out the chickens first. Why don’t you get that dust we used on the Holdens’ chickens? We’ll give them a good dusting before we put them in with the rest.” Sarah started separating the crates as Dennis ran to get the dust.

  Dennis was back in a hurry. “Seven crates of chickens! Wow! We can have chicken for dinner every day!”

  “And three crates of rabbits, one of ducks, and two of cats. We shouldn’t have any problem with mice. Let’s turn the cats loose. Then we’ll load the chickens on your little wagon and take them to the chicken house. But I’m not sure what to do with the ducks and rabbits.”

  “Oh! Jamie and Jeremy said if we go to get feed this afternoon, they’ll help us load the rabbit hutches.”

  “So we have to go this afternoon already! Well, we’d better get these animals settled, so we still have time,” said Sarah, opening the first crate of cats.

  By the time they had all the chickens dusted and released in the chicken yard, Ma was calling them for dinner.

  Ma said the ducks would probably be fine in the barnyard, if they fed them right away. So after dinner, Sarah sorted through the feed until she found some marked for ducks.

  Ma helped Sarah hitch up the team of horses to the wagon. Dennis went with her to get some feed and the rabbit hutches.

  By the time they had the rabbits situated, Sarah knew they had to start milking if they were going to get finished before dark. Since they had room for only eight in their stables, Sarah decided to take their own six first and whichever two would follow.

  After milking the first eight cows, Ma went in the house to check up on the children, Dennis fed the chickens, and Sarah got the next eight cows in. After that, Dennis fed the rabbits and ducks, while Sarah brought in the last six cows.

  Sarah wished she had taken the time to feed the pigs sometime in between because she was almost too tired to do it later. Before sitting down to milk the last cow, she sent a very tired Dennis inside. Ma had left a few minutes earlier to start supper.

  “Hi, Sarah!”

  Sarah turned from letting out the last cows to see Dorie standing in the doorway. “Are you feeling better, Dorie?” Sarah asked.

  “Yeah, but the next time I’m going to hang on better when I ride the pony.”

  Sarah smiled. “Do you want to help me feed the pigs?” Suddenly, she wasn’t as tired anymore as she listened to Dorie chattering excitedly about all the animals. She carried two kittens, as Sarah carried the feed for the pigs.

  Before they went inside, they stopped to look over the pasture, dotted with sheep, goats, cows, horses, ponies, and one donkey. All content and fed.

  “We’re awfully rich, aren’t we, Sarah?”

  “I guess we are. But it’s going to be a lot of work.” Sarah felt content as they walked to the house and their own supper.

  The days fell into a pattern as Sarah, Ma, and the rest of the family were kept busy caring for the animals, milking, and gathering eggs. In between, they made as much cheese and butter as they had time for. Sarah was glad they had plenty of land for grazing, which meant many of the animals needed very little care. As it was, they had time for little more than choring.

  Since Pa had gotten more seed than they usually used, Ma decided to plant more in hopes of selling the extra. Stan from the mercantile had promised to buy all they
could raise. As it was, Sarah was going to town once a week with the eggs, butter, and cheese.

  “More and more men are coming through here,” Stan told Sarah. “I’ll take all the food you ladies can spare. But be careful. You can’t trust some of these men. Keep your animals and things locked up, especially the horses. There’s been quite a bit of stealing going on south of us. Don’t come to town anymore. It’s not safe. I’ll send someone out once a week. You have your list ready.”

  Later, Sarah told Ma what Stan had said. “How can we lock up the horses? Maybe it’s been someone instead of something that’s been stealing our chickens. The dogs made such a fuss last night, but I figured an animal was getting into them.”

  They tied the horses and ponies in the stalls and turned all the dogs loose, instead of tying them that night. Dennis insisted on taking Sparky into the house, and Ma didn’t argue.

  That night, Sarah had a hard time falling asleep. But it seemed she was barely asleep when the dogs started barking.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Thieves

  SARAH LEAPED FROM HER BED. She rushed downstairs. Sparky beat her to the door.

  “Wait,” Ma called from the bedroom doorway. “It’s not safe for you to go outside. I think I saw the shadows of some men by the chicken house.”

  Sarah could hardly hear her over the ruckus the dogs were making. Suddenly, the donkey started braying. Sarah grabbed Pa’s rifle and ran to the window. She was almost sure she saw the outline of at least one man, maybe two, in the field, chasing after the animals.

  She threw open the window, poked Pa’s gun out, and shot in the air. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor. She had forgotten how much the rifle kicked and had not braced herself.

  “Sarah!” Ma exclaimed. “Why was that gun loaded?” She took the gun from Sarah and helped her to her feet.

  “For reasons like this,” answered Sarah. She hurried to the window. The horses were still running, but the men were nowhere in sight.

  “They probably left.” Sarah strained to see in the darkness. “I wonder how many of our chickens they got. I hope they didn’t get any of our horses.” She started toward the door. “I’m going out to check.”

  Ma caught her arm as she opened the door. “You’re not going out there! It’s not safe! Furthermore, we can’t do anything if they did steal our horses.”

  Just as Sarah was about to close the door again, she heard a faint cry for help. She stopped in shock and looked at Ma. Ma’s eyes were wide. Just then they heard it again, louder and more desperate. “He-elp! Help! Ple-ease!”

  Sarah reached for the gun again. “I’m going to go see.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Ma said. “Children, stay here.”

  For the first time, Sarah was aware of the little ones. Dennis was fiercely hanging on to Sparky, who was struggling to escape. Little Gracie was clinging to Dorie. They all looked terrified. “Stay here,” Sarah warned them again.

  Ma lit the kerosene lantern and followed Sarah into the darkness. Sarah headed toward the field in which she had last seen the shadows. As they neared, the sounds grew louder. Sarah strained to make out anything unusual in the darkness. Then she heard the dogs growling. They seemed to have someone down. Sarah ran toward them. As she approached, she saw all four dogs had surrounded someone. She approached cautiously. Suddenly, the man saw her.

  “Don’t shoot!” he cried. “I didn’t mean to steal. I was just so hungry, and I . . . Oh, please, don’t shoot. Ooh!” He sank to the ground and cried.

  Sarah’s heart went out to him. He looked so young! Certainly not more than David’s seventeen years, maybe less. Sarah heard a squawk to her right and in the dim light of Ma’s approaching lantern, she saw five chickens flopping helplessly about. Five!

  “You thief!” Sarah cried, suddenly angry again. “If you were hungry, why didn’t you take just one? Or why didn’t you ask first?” She stomped her foot. “You can’t possibly eat five whole chickens before they spoil!”

  “You don’t understand,” wailed the young man. “I have a wife and six children.”

  His slight smirk after the last statement convinced Sarah. “That’s just too bad,” she told him through clenched teeth. “Your wife and six children are just going to starve because I’m going to shoot you, you lying skunk!”

  Sarah heard her ma’s gasp behind her, but she held her ground, although she didn’t raise her gun. After all, she was taught to never point a gun at anyone. Sarah hid her grin as the man, not much more than a boy, suddenly froze with fear.

  “You have one chance,” Sarah told him. “But only one! You’d better start talking, and there had better not be one tiny, little lie in your story, or else . . . ”

  The man moaned, “I’m in soo much pain.”

  “Yeah, well, it won’t take me long to put you out of your pain,” Sarah told him.

  “Sarah!” Ma gasped.

  “Start talking!” Sarah demanded. “What’s your name? One lie and Ol’ Buster, here, will be all over you.”

  He glanced fearfully at the dogs, then at Sarah’s gun. “My name . . . ” He hesitated and glanced at the dogs again.

  “Your real one,” Sarah prompted.

  “Billy McGregor.”

  “Okay, Billy McGregor, what were you doing in our hen house? And why? And why were you chasing our horses?”

  Billy glanced behind him toward the woods as if gauging his chance of escape. As if on cue, Buster growled low in his throat.

  “I . . . I guess I was going to steal your chickens. I was awful hungry,” he whined.

  “FIVE chickens?”

  “Well, I guess I was gonna try to sell some. It’s not fun bein’ hungry.” He was whining again.

  Sarah was fast losing patience. “So you thought it would be okay to steal some chickens and a horse?”

  “I wasn’t after the horse,” Billy blurted out. “Just the donkey.”

  Sarah turned away. “Let’s leave him out here to the dogs, Ma.”

  “No-o-o!” Billy wailed. “I’m hurtin’. Honest!”

  Ma came forward with the lantern. Billy pulled up his pant legs to show a spot that was swelling rapidly. It looked like a kick from the donkey.

  “Where are the boys that were with you?” Sarah asked.

  “What boys?” Billy asked much too quickly.

  “I thought I made it clear—we won’t be tolerating any more lying!” Sarah lifted the gun slightly.

  “They just left.”

  “Pretty good friends, you’ve got. What all did they steal?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Let’s get him up to the house, so we can put something on this, Sarah.”

  “I can’t walk,” Billy wailed. “Maybe I could ride, if you caught one of your horses.”

  Sarah realized he was looking for a quick getaway. On top of a horse would be perfect. “You’re going to walk,” Sarah ground out, “or you’re staying right here!”

  Groaning and moaning, he rose to his feet. Limping badly, he started toward the house. Sarah was sure he was faking. She handed Ma the gun, finished killing the chickens, and picked them up.

  Sarah butchered the chickens, while Ma bandaged Billy’s wound.

  “I’m awfully hungry, ma’am,” said Billy, looking mournful.

  Ma glanced at Sarah as she washed the chicken for the last time. Sarah caught a wink before Ma turned back to Billy. “We have some nice leftover bean soup I can heat for you.”

  “That chicken will just go to waste,” Billy suggested. Sarah could see he was licking his lips.

  Sarah made a quick decision. “You’ll get some of this chicken after you’ve helped with the morning milking.”

  Billy looked shocked. He turned to Ma and pleaded, “Ma’am, I’m awful hurt! Ain’t no way I can milk any cows.”

  “You don’t need to use your leg to milk cows or goats,” Sarah told him.

  “Goats!” Billy looked horrified. “I can’t milk no goats!”r />
  “We have twenty-two cows and three goats to milk,” Sarah said, firmly. “If you don’t help work, you won’t get fed. We start early. Good-night.” Sarah picked up the bowl of chicken and went into the house.

  “Wait!” Billy cried. “I can’t sleep out here with the dogs. They’ll kill me.”

  “Not unless we tell them to.” Sarah doubted that they would even then. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that. “You can sleep in the barn, if you want to,” she called over her shoulder.

  Ma followed her into the house. “Shouldn’t we give him a blanket or something?”

  “Naw. I doubt that he’ll stay.”

  “But he said he was hungry,” Ma reminded Sarah.

  “If he really was hungry, he would have asked for the bean soup.”

  “You’re probably right,” Ma agreed. “I just kept thinking, what if it would have been David?”

  “Ma, David wouldn’t have been stealing chickens and donkeys and then lying about it.”

  “Of course not. At least, I hope he wouldn’t,” Ma sighed.

  The next morning, Billy was, indeed, gone. When Sarah checked the hen house, she found six more chickens missing. But she wasn’t sure if his companions stole them or if Billy did before he left.

  “What are we going to do, Ma?” Sarah asked.

  “If they are really hungry, I hate not to let them have them. After all, we got them for nothing.”

  “Ma, we’re not going to feed all those animals just to let people steal them. If they’d be honest, they’d ask for food, not just steal it.”

  “You’re right,” Ma replied. “But what can we do?”

  “I don’t know,” muttered Sarah. “But I’m going to think of something.”

  That night, the dogs were barking again. But Ma didn’t let Sarah go outside. Sarah, again, shot the gun in the air, but couldn’t do anything else. “If it’s that Billy McGregor again . . . ” she fumed. But there was nothing she could do.