Árdís - 01.01.1963, Blaðsíða 30

28
ÁRDIS
Trapped In a Cave-in
VIOLETINGALDSON
IT WAS a beautiful fall day with not a cloud in the sky. The
birch had turned yellow and the sumac bright red along the shore
of Pelican lake. As he watched Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, with
baby Silvia, drive away, Frank Killdaire felt a twinge of worry.
For the three young boys had been left in his care. The twins,
Garry and Jim, aged 7, and Roy 5.
Frank was fond of the boys but they were active and mis-
chievous and had to be watched constantly. It was a big respons-
ibility for there were real dangers about. There was the lake, and
dense forest behind the cottage. The thing to do was never let
one of them out of his sight.
Frank had been pleased when invited by the Hamiltons to
come along on this Labor Day holiday and help look after the
boys. He sometimes baby sat for Mrs. Hamilton. Her husband
was a roving reporter-photographer and often away from home.
Now he was off to get material and pictures of the road building
project along lake Missiwaga.
“What’ll we do?” Garry said.
“You promised to get some wood for bows and arrows,” Jim
said.
“I wanna go too,” Roy said. “And Skipper too.” Skipper, the
family pet was a young labrador dog.
“All right,” Frank told them. “Let’s pretend you’re Scout Cubs.
We’ll go on a hike.”
“And get wood for bows and arrows?” Garry wanted to know.
“Yes. I’ll pretend I’m your Scout Master. I’ll take a compass,
hatchet and flashlight along.”
“Can we take sanwiches?” Jim said.
“Sure. Come to the cottage while I make some.” Frank wasn’t
going to let them out of his sight.
They started off on the hike with Skipper leading. They passed
the boathouse and dock, along the point until they came to the