Patriotic Plays and Pageants for Young People Part 5

GEORGE WAs.h.i.+NGTON'S FORTUNE (Founded on a legend of him youth.)

CHARACTERS

GEORGE WAs.h.i.+NGTON, a Youthful Surveyor Young Lads who serve respectfully as "chainmen" and "pilots"

RICHARD GLENN JAMES TALBOT KEITH CARY A FRONTIERSMAN RED ROWAN, his daughter

SCENE: An open woodland glade that is part of the wilderness portion of Lord Fairfax's estate beyond the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia, 1748. Trees at right, left, and background. Trailing vines. Low bushes.

Underfoot a carpet of rotting leaves. At the left, near foreground, a fire smolders. Near it are spread a bearskin used as a sleeping-blanket, some pine boughs, surveyors' tools, and a tin box. At the right a fallen tree-trunk, mossed, vine-covered. The time is mid-afternoon. The lads who enter wear the garb of frontiersmen; but when the play begins the forest glade is deserted until Richard Genn's voice is heard from the woods in background.

RICHARD GENN.

Come on, then, Was.h.i.+ngton. Hurry there, Talbot! (Genn enters, carrying chains and a surveyor's pole, and comes quickly to the fire.) Why, the ashes have kept their heat since morning. We will not have to start another fire.

JAMES TALBOT (entering with Was.h.i.+ngton from background).

That's good hearing, for I'm famished. How say you, Was.h.i.+ngton?

WAs.h.i.+NGTON (laughing and coming to fire).

I could eat a wild turkey, feathers and all. This life in the wilderness makes one keenly hungry. What's in the box, Richard?

TALBOT (delving into tin box).

Bacon. Some dry bread.

WAs.h.i.+NGTON.

Toast the bacon between the bread, and we'll have such a feast as is due to young surveyors who've tramped a good ten miles since morning.

Now then, Richard. Here are some sticks. Let each lad toast his own.

TALBOT (helping to prepare).

The very smell of it makes me ravenous. (To Genn.) I wonder where your Uncle is, and Colonel Fairfax?

GENN.

Miles from here, doubtless. (Stretches.) But I _am_ stiff!

WAs.h.i.+NGTON.

And where can Carey be?

TALBOT.

Oh, Carey's lagged behind to get a shot at some grouse that he means to have for supper. Hark!

CAREY (In background).

Lads! Lads! Where be ye?

WAs.h.i.+NGTON (calling in answer).

Here, Carey, here. (To the others.) That's he, now. Well, Carey, what luck?

CAREY (entering from background).

Any luck but pot luck. Missed both times. No grouse for us. I almost wish I'd raided some frontiersman's cabin.

[Sits at fire.

WAs.h.i.+NGTON.

"Get what you can get honestly." (Pa.s.ses him the bacon.) "Use what you get frugally." That was an old saying I learned from my copybook, and even in the wilderness it seems to hold true.

RICHARD GENN (as they sit about fire, eating).

What's to be done when this meal is finished?

GEORGE WAs.h.i.+NGTON.

Naught that I know of. I can do no more till I receive further orders from Colonel Fairfax.

TALBOT.

Well, then, we've a half-holiday. 'Tis the first idle time we've had in three weeks. Up before dawn, and to bed before star-rise! I tell you it makes the hours spin fast. How shall we pa.s.s our leisure?

CAREY.

I'm going back for those grouse.

[Rises.

TALBOT.

I've seen the bronze of a wild turkey's wing.

[Rises.

GENN (smacking his lips).

I'd like to have that same turkey wing here before the fire! (Rises.) I'm with you, Talbot, for whatever a sportsman's luck may bring. And you, Was.h.i.+ngton?

WAs.h.i.+NGTON.

I'd best wait here to see if a message comes from Colonel Fairfax. If in one hour the message does not come, I'll join you.

GENN (ready to start).

Well, then, Talbot.

[The three lads start.

WAs.h.i.+NGTON (to Carey).

I wish you luck! May you flush a grouse at every ten yards!

[Lads laugh, and exeunt, background. Was.h.i.+ngton looks after them a moment, and then takes surveying paper from his pocket.

WAs.h.i.+NGTON.

Now for my wilderness chart!

[Pores over it. From the distance comes the sound of a frontiersman's ax, which he is too absorbed to notice. Red Rowan enters from the right, a wild, picturesque young figure in a scarlet cloak.

WAs.h.i.+NGTON (to himself, as he bends over his chart).

'Tis not so easy as Little Hunting Creek!

RED ROWAN (approaching him).

Nothing is easy in the wilderness!

WAs.h.i.+NGTON (starting up, gazing at her, and then brus.h.i.+ng his hand across his eyes).