The cushions were tacked down with small tacks
Each scout took a turn in trying the chairs, and each pronounced them most luxurious, but Mrs. Vernon withheld such high praise as “luxury,” saying instead “They’re hard as rocks!”
“Now what can we build?” asked Ruth, showing intense interest in this form of occupation.
Mrs. Vernon laughed. “Do you want to begin something else?”
“Might as well, Verny. The hut has to be furnished now, as long as you have launched us along that line,” Julie replied, laughingly.
“A table is easy to build, but you have to cut down the material for the legs.”
“Where do table-legs grow—we’ll cut them down,” returned Joan, comically.
“Wherever you find small birch-trees growing thickly together, you can cut one out. Never chop down a tree that stands alone, as it will mean shelter and shade in time to come. But a small tree can always be spared, if there are several growing in a group. The others will fare better for the thinning out.”
“How many shall we cut?” now asked Betty.
“Bring four, each one about two inches in diameter. We will use the thickest end of each trunk for legs, the middle sections for chair-backs, and the smallest ends for arms.”
Provided with the ax, hatchet, and woodsman knife, the scouts started on their quest. After they had gone, Mrs. Vernon detached one side of a packing-case and removed any nails left in the wood. As this section of the case had reinforced pieces along the outer edges, it would be a strong table-top.
The rest of the day was used in building the table, and a queer looking object was the result. It was a cross between a stool and a four-legged pedestal. It was rather wobbly, too, as Ruth had sawed one leg shorter than those made by her three scout companions.
“It might tip over, Ruth, if a visitor leans upon it,” said Mrs. Vernon.
“We’ll keep a stone under that leg. It won’t joggle if it’s boosted up,” explained Ruth.
“But the stone may slip out, or should one wish to move the table about, the stone will have to be carried about too.”
“Goodness me, Verny! What can I do? I can’t stretch it!” cried Ruth, distractedly.
Every one laughed, but the Captain said: “No, it won’t stretch, but can’t one of you scouts suggest a remedy?”
When they realized that they all were called upon to share the responsibility of the tilting table, they puckered their foreheads and put on their thinking-caps.
“I know! We’ll tack a little end of the wood to the bottom of the leg,” called Joan, excitedly.
Ruth cast a scornful look at Joan, as much as to say: “I’d like to see any one sticking a block under that leg!”
“Verny, we might take the leg off and saw a new one,” suggested Betty.
“We could, and I suppose that would be the only correct way to do it, but I am thinking of another and easier way,” replied the Captain.
“Oh! I guess I know! How will it do to saw all three legs off so they will be the same length as Ruth’s short one?” exclaimed Julie, slapping her knee.
Mrs. Vernon smiled for that was what she wanted the scouts to discover. At the same time, she was deeply interested in the fact that Julie always seemed to catch her thoughts and express them exactly as she might have done. This showed her that Julie was very mental, and was open to every good and helpful suggestion from thought-waves.
That evening the Captain said: “It feels as if we might have rain soon. I hope it doesn’t come before Wednesday, as I am conscious of neglecting an important work.”
“What is it?” cried four anxious voices.
“Hepsy’s shed. You see we were going to build her stable as soon as we completed the house, but we began our furniture instead. Hepsy had enjoyed the fresh air and fine pasturage on the plateau this last week, but she dislikes the rain.”
“Oh, dear! I forgot all about her shed,” cried Betty.
“So did we. If she only had complained now and then! But she went about her business so quietly!” sighed Joan.
“Verny, if it rains we must invite Hepsy into our hut! If we neglected to build her shed because of our fine furniture, then she must be admitted to the palace itself!” said Ruth, decidedly.
“That’s what we will, Verny! Hepsy won’t hurt the hut.”
And the Captain secretly exulted to find that Ruth was fast forgetting self in feeling responsibility for others—even a horse; while the other scouts thought nothing of their work unless it was put to some good use.
But it did not rain that night, nor in the morning, although the sky was gray and overcast. Hepsy had a shed all built before the first drops fell late that afternoon; there were several liberal ventilation crevices between the logs of the sidewalls, however.
The floor of the shed had been laid à la corduroy style—as so many boggy roads are built upon in the west. The logs in this case were placed side by side in a bed of clay, and when the girls pressed down firmly upon the flooring, the clay oozed up between the joints and hardened there. In a few days the floor would be as solid as a rock and could be washed off with broom and water.
Hepsy had more than enough dry leaves for a bedding that first night, as the scouts thought she might take cold if she slept on the damp floor. Mrs. Vernon smiled, but said nothing as she knew the heap of leaves would keep Hepsy from cutting the soft clay with her hoofs. When the flooring was hard and dry nothing could hurt it.
Supper that night was rather a gloomy affair as everything was wet, and the fire would not burn. So they gathered in the hut and ate cold food. This started a discussion on fireplaces.
“You said maybe there was a chance of building a chimney,” ventured Joan.
“Yes, but we have been doing so much, I forgot about it,” confessed the Captain.
“A fireplace would feel great on a night like this,” said Julie.
“Verny, if clay will harden in chinks of the walls, and make a solid flooring, why won’t it hold stones together in a chimney?” now asked Ruth, eagerly.
“It will, if we can find stones that will fit properly. I wouldn’t attempt to do the mason work with round cobble-stones such as are used in most chimneys in bungalow houses.”
“Did you mean it when you said a chimney might be built if we leaned it against the rocky wall back of the rear wall of the hut?” asked Joan.
“No, I was only fooling when I spoke of leaning it—because a chimney has to be most accurately constructed or it will smoke one out of the place.”
“Let’s build the chimney to-morrow!” begged Ruth, eagerly.
“Oh, my dears! We haven’t done anything but build—build—build since we’ve been here. There are so many other things I want you to do that a chimney can wait.”
“If we agree to do what other things you want us to, why can’t we use the forty-five minutes of recreation that is ours each day to build the chimney?” persisted Ruth.
Mrs. Vernon laughed. But the eager faces of the girls showed her they were in earnest. Besides, what difference did it make in the end whether she was teaching them to build a stone chimney or how to mend a pair of stockings? If it was true work and done with the right motive back of it, it was progressive.
So she finally said: “All right, you may have two hours a day for chimney work, and the rest we will devote to my pursuits.”
“Hurrah! we ought to finish the chimney in three days!” exclaimed Julie.
Thus the second week passed quickly away. The little stone chimney was finished and presented a very artistic addition to the room. But it became so much smaller as it rose higher, that at the top it was only large enough for a tiny opening for the escape of smoke. Unfortunately, this caused the fireplace to smoke dreadfully when a fire was started, but once the bed of embers was well started, an additional bit of wood judiciously used did not cause every one to choke and run from the room.
In one of the hikes, the scouts had found a wild grapevine, but it had been severed from the root, and hung from the tree-trunk without leaves or fruit. It was more than an inch thick, so Mrs. Vernon had the girls carefully cut it down and carry it back to camp.
“The graceful curves of this twisted vine will make the prettiest chair imaginable, with back, arms and legs entwined, and holding up the seat of boards. Smaller bits of the gnarled vine will make flower-brackets, rustic hanging-baskets, and also a cord by which to suspend the signboard of Dandelion Camp,” remarked the Captain.
“If we only had a Turkish rug for the floor, our hut would look wonderful!” sighed Joan, admiring the latest additions.
“Why cry for the moon when you can have the sun?” laughed Mrs. Vernon.
“What do you mean? Did you bring a rug?” asked Joan, quickly.
“Oh, we forgot that crex mat, didn’t we? Do you suppose it is still down in the bushes?” asked Betty, anxiously.
“I quite forgot it myself, girls. But that was not what I meant just now. The moment Joan mentioned a rug, I thought of something I read about in the Handbook. We ought to weave a mat of grass or willows for that palace.”
“If we only could! It would be so in keeping,” said Betty, softly, that her voice would not interrupt the others who were loudly acclaiming this idea from the Captain.
“I wish to goodness Sunday were a week away so we could finish up all the fine plans we have started,” sighed Ruth.
“Well, Ruth, only our folks are coming out this Sunday, you know, and we needn’t mind them much. If it wasn’t that we needed ’Liza’s cake and bread and other things, we could have postponed the call for a week,” said Betty, condolingly.
As usual, Betty’s candor made them laugh, and Mrs. Vernon said: “Yes, I fear our invitation had an awfully big string to it this week.”
Saturday night the scouts and Mrs. Vernon planned the dinner for the next day.
“We’ll use some of those onions, and cut potatoes into dice to add to them; then I’ll take a small can of tomatoes, some rice and a bit of bacon, and make a good chowder of the whole. If we only had a few of the little fish Joan caught the other day, they would give it a fine flavor,” suggested the Captain.
“You said we might open a jar of our strawberry preserve, Verny,” reminded Julie.
“Yes, but not for a course; it is too precious for anything but dessert.”
“After the chowder, what can we have?” asked Ruth.
“We’ll boil that artichoke root we dug up this morning. When that is seasoned it tastes just like salsify. If Eliza doesn’t bring any meat, we can run along the mountain-path and cut one of the beefsteak mushrooms I showed you yesterday. I doubt if your folks will be able to tell the difference between it and a tenderloin steak,” the Captain said, chuckling.
“My, won’t they be surprised when they see all we have learned in two weeks!” exclaimed Betty, proudly.
“I hope it doesn’t rain to-morrow,” ventured Julie.
“Yes, ’cause we’ve got to have Eliza’s supplies!” added her twin sister.
“Can you think of anything else that’s novel, Verny, for dinner?” asked Joan.
“We can cut enough dandelion leaves in the morning to have a salad”; Mrs. Vernon glanced doubtfully at Ruth as she spoke.
Ruth caught the look and laughed: “Are you afraid I am going to boil over because you mentioned dandelions?”
“Well, I didn’t know how you might take it?”
“I’ll confess; I’d just as soon call the camp ‘dandelion’ as anything else, for now I appreciate what that digging did for us.”
“I’m so glad, Ruthy; now I can paint that sign. Do you know girls why I refused to hang out the sign you wanted? It was because we were not unanimous in the selection of a name. As Ruth’s objection is removed I will have the sign ready for next Sunday when the Allisons and Bentleys visit us.”
“Did you save that fine ash board you selected the very first day we came here?” asked Ruth.
“Yes, and to-morrow I’ll show it to you—ready to burn.”
“Burn?” came from four girls.
“Yes; I am going to etch the name ‘Dandelion Camp’ in the wood with a red-hot poker, and sketch the dandelions about the name in pyrography, also. Then we can tint the flowers and leaves. You haven’t any idea how soft and beautiful the burnt tones blend with yellow and green paints.”
“It sounds fascinating—I wish I could do it,” said Joan.
“You each may practice and when you can handle the iron well enough, you might try to do little things like book-ends or wall-brackets.”
“We got as far on the bill-of-fare as dandelion salad, Verny, and then switched off on something new—as usual,” laughed Julie.
“That was the end of my menu, as far as I could provide any,” returned the Captain.
Sunday morning it was decided to go for the beefsteak mushrooms and cook them for dinner, even if Eliza brought meat. In that case, they would keep the meat for dinners the following days and give the visitors a treat by having tenderloin steak (?).
Ruth proved her statement that she had outgrown her dislike of dandelions by offering to cut enough plants for the salad. When she returned to camp she had a fine mess of young leaves, and after washing them clean, left them in cold water until wanted.
Joan and Julie had offered to get up early and go for berries. Mrs. Vernon was dubious about berry-picking being in order for scouts on Sunday, when there was enough dessert already on hand.
“But why not? It is wholesome study of nature’s own fruit, you know,” argued Joan.
“Verny, we really must have a dessert for those who do not like preserves, you know. Otherwise father will eat the whole jar of our strawberry preserves,” added Julie.
So the two girls prevailed over the Captain’s mild scruples and hurried down the road to the strawberry field. Before the Lee family arrived, everything was done and ready for their reception.
Eliza, as anticipated, had smuggled a host of good things into the surrey, and when Mr. Lee and May were listening to all that the scouts had accomplished during the week, she transferred the larder hidden in the harness box of the surrey to the camp-larder in the old hut.
As they sat down to dinner, John began showing symptoms of disapproval of his soup (chowder, the scouts called it), and carefully placed his dish upon the rock before him.
“The chowder smells delicious, girls,” said May, as the aroma rose to her nose.
“It’s just as good as it smells, too,” said Julie.
“Is every one served now, Jule?” called Joan, who was waitress for the day.
“Yes, and all anxious to begin—hurry and sit down,” Julie replied.
Joan took her plate and sat down nearest the board from which she had to serve the dinner. John waited smiling knowingly as he sat and watched the others.
Mr. Lee was the first to take a spoonful of chowder. He frowned for a moment, then took a second taste. His mouth puckered and he looked questioningly at Eliza as if to ask her what was wrong with it.
May had already taken her spoonful and immediately cried: “For goodness sake! Who cooked this chowder?”
“Verny—why?” hastily asked the girls.
“Why? Well just taste it!”
Every one had had a good mouthful by this time and every one looked at the Captain reproachfully.
“Really! I’m sure I didn’t salt this chowder as heavily as this! I tasted it just before you arrived and it was delicious,” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon in self-justification.
Joan now looked dreadfully concerned. She tasted the soup and then made a wry face. But she was not going to have any one falsely accused, so she spoke up:
“Verny, you know when you told me to salt something-or-other, I thought you meant chowder; so I put in as much as I felt it needed. Maybe I misunderstood you.”
“Oh, Joan! I called to you and said not to salt the chowder because I saw you seasoning everything you could find!”
Joan looked so woe-begone that every one laughed, and Betty said regretfully: “It’s too bad, Joan, ’cause the chowder was cheap so it was to be the filler, you know. Now we won’t have enough dinner without eating our preserves.”
That made every one scream with merriment, and the salty soup was passed by without further reproach. While waiting for the steaks (?) John cleared his throat as a signal, and said:
“You won’t see me here again this summer.”
“Why not?” queried his sisters.
“’Cause I’m going to camp on Wednesday—Daddy fixed it with the Master at our gym.”
“Going to wash dishes?” teased Julie, winking at Eliza.
“Nope! But I’m going to keep the grounds clean. I have to pick up papers and see that nothing is littered around. Every time I leave trash about, I get fined, so I’ll have to be awake.”
“What splendid practice that will be for you, Johnny. When you come back home, you ought to have the habit so strong that Eliza won’t have to run after you at every step,” declared Julie.
“I know John will make a fine scout for that work,” added Betty.
Being a regular boy, John wouldn’t thank Betty for her kind words but he mentally decided that she was a bear!
The beefsteak mushrooms were a great success and no one could tell what they were eating. Boiled potatoes, artichokes, dandelion salad with Eliza’s French dressing, and a gravy of browned flour, made a fine dinner to go with the steak. Then followed the berries and generous slices of fresh layer cake brought from home. When dinner was over, John frowned and said: “Is this all we get?”
“All! my goodness, isn’t it enough?” demanded Julie.
“Not for Sunday’s dinner. I bet we’ll have a regular feast at our camp, all right!”
“You couldn’t have such cake if you baked for ages!” retorted Julie.
“Cake—pooh! Fellers don’t want cake. We want man’s dinners,” bragged the boy.
“I noticed you ate every crumb, just the same!”
“That’s ’cause I am hungry and had to.”
“Seein’ es how yuh despise my cake, I’ll see you don’t have to eat none of it whiles you are at camp,” said Eliza, at this point of the altercation between brother and sister.
John gasped, for he had already boasted to his boy-chums who were going to camp with him that he could have cakes and lots of goodies sent to him every week!
That afternoon the visitors were escorted about the woods; every beautiful nook and dell was duly admired, and when it came time for good-bys both sides felt that they had had a fine visit.
“We’ll look forward to coming again when it is our turn,” observed Mr. Lee, as he climbed into the surrey.
“We’ll be looking as anxiously for you as you will for us,” Betty replied.
May grinned, for she understood why they would be welcomed. But Ruth said hurriedly: “S-sh! My mother’s coming next and she won’t let your family outdo her in bringing goodies. May, do tell her all you brought to-day.”
Every one laughed at that frank confidence, and the Lees drove away feeling happy and proud of the way their girls were improving under the scout life.
As they trudged back up the hill, Joan said: “Is any one expected for the Fourth?”
“Not that I know of—I forgot the Fourth comes this week,” Mrs. Vernon replied.
“What can we do, Verny? We haven’t any fire-works,” said Betty.
“We’ll have to think out a suitable plan with which to celebrate the National Birthday.”
That evening about the camp-fire, it was discussed and finally voted upon to go for a long outing on the Fourth.
“But where? We don’t want to go down into civilization, you know,” said Ruth.
“Can’t we pack up a dinner and go away off somewhere?” suggested Joan.
“We can drive Hepsy and ride in the buckboard,” added Julie.
“Hepsy hasn’t had much exercise lately, and she’s getting too lazy; it will do her good to thin down somewhat,” laughingly said Mrs. Vernon.
“Verny, did you ever hear of Bluebeard’s Cave, ’way back on this mountain?” asked Julie, glancing slyly at her companions.
“I have, but how did you hear of it?”
“Now you’ve got to tell her!” exclaimed Betty, while Joan and Ruth tried to hush her.
“What does this mean—what is there to tell, scouts?” asked Mrs. Vernon, seriously.
“Oh, it isn’t anything—much. Only a little joke we had on you a long time ago,” began Joan, stammeringly.
“Better tell me all about it and end it,” advised Mrs. Vernon, not a little surprised, for she wondered if the girls had ever tried to find the cave, which she knew to be dangerous without a grown person or a lantern to guide them.
“Do you remember the day we built the roof on the hut?” asked Julie, giggling.
“Yes, it was the neatest work you ever did—before or since.”
“But we didn’t do it!” exclaimed Ruth, also giggling.
“You didn’t! Then who did!” gasped the Captain, amazed.
The girls laughed merrily. This was just the sort of a surprise they had looked for. They never thought of the danger in the cave that had worried the Captain, so there was no reason why they should not laugh and enjoy the joke.
Mrs. Vernon saw immediately that there was no ground for her fear, so she managed to laugh too. “What is the joke, girls?”
“You had no sooner gone, that day, when a young woodsman came across the plateau. He lives way back on the last crest,” began Joan, eagerly, but Julie interpolated with: “In winter he traps fur-bearing animals and sells the pelts. He was out hunting that day. He had a gun in his hands and a loaded revolver in his belt.”
“He asked us if we weren’t afraid to camp here alone,” added Betty.
“And we laughed at him. We told him you were always with us, so we were not alone.”
“He then said, we ought to have a big dog to keep away tramps, but we said he was the first stranger we ever saw about. Then we showed him our hut and the roof we had to make. But he laughed.”
“Yes, he laughed, because he said we were doing it wrong. Then he leaned the gun against a tree and showed us how to roof the place properly,” said Ruth.
“He told us always to place a gun with the barrel aiming up or down. Never to lean it sideways or lay it on the ground. He told us how many hunters are accidentally killed through carelessness in handling their firearms,” explained Betty.
“He said he wanted to see you and tell you something, so he waited around, but finally he had to go. We made each other promise not to tell you that day as we wanted you to think we did the fine roof,” concluded Julie, laughing merrily.
“Do you know what he wanted to see me for?” asked Mrs. Vernon, finding an entirely different cause for concern, since she heard this story.
“Nothing, I guess, unless he wanted to get orders for a fur coat next winter,” said Joan, smiling as if to invite a laugh at her wit.
“Oh, no, Joan. He didn’t look like that at all,” said Betty, reprovingly.
“I think he wanted to tell Verny where there might be dangerous places in the mountains, ’cause he warned us not to stray away alone at any time; but we don’t need him for that, ’cause we don’t wander off, like he does,” added Julie.
“And he told you about Bluebeard’s Cave, eh? What did he say about it?”
“We asked him if there were any wonderful places in this mountain that we could visit some day. He told us of a place known as ‘Bluebeard’s Cave’ that was about twelve miles away, but he said we ought to make a day’s trip of it, ’cause it was so fine,” explained Joan.
“We’ll consider going there some day, but I do wish this young man had waited to talk with me,” murmured the Captain.
The days preceding the Fourth, the scouts completed a rustic book-shelf, several original ornaments such as no one could possibly name, and having woven a small grass rug, they felt that the hut was better than any king’s castle.
The morning of the Fourth was cloudless and the scouts were up earlier than usual. It had been decided upon, before going to bed the night before, that the trip to Bluebeard’s Cave would be an interesting outing if the party got away in time to have a full day for the outing.
Hepsy was feeling most frisky because she had had so little exercise the past week; two of the girls led her to the buckboard and hitched her securely, while the other two slid the adjustable rear seat into the grooves meant for it along the sides of the vehicle. As they did so, Joan noticed the edge of one groove seemed splintered.
Mrs. Vernon and the scouts had packed the hamper with a good luncheon, and now the Captain placed the basket in front of the three girls who took possession of the back seat. The other scout sat on the front seat beside the driver.
Hepsy jogged along at her own sweet will, and all the chirruping and switching of the reins failed to bring forth one added bit of speed.
“I think Hepsy’s awful mean to go so slow! We’ll never get there at this rate,” complained Ruth.
“And after the royal way we have treated her, too! Why, one’d think the old nag was tired to death!” added Joan.
“I wish we had tied a feed bag to her nose—then she’d show some speed,” laughed Julie.
“Maybe the climb is too steep for her. I know I wouldn’t want to pull five folks and a wagon up this grade,” said Betty.
“Oh, pshaw! If Hepsy thinks this is steep what will she do when we come to the last mountain climb,” asked Mrs. Vernon, exasperated with urging the horse onwards.
Julie laughed as she said, “She’ll let the buckboard run backwards on that hill.”
“Serve her right if we pull her over on her haunches and drag her down with us,” added Joan.
With such complaints and banter, the scouts reached a steep ascent. Hepsy brought the party to the foot of the hill and then stopped. All the urging and switching failed to make her move a foot.
“Girls, you’ll have to get out and walk up—Hepsy used to play this trick on us long ago, but she has forgotten it during the last few years; or perhaps, she hadn’t the occasion to use it until to-day,” laughed Mrs. Vernon.
The scouts joined in the laugh, but jumped out to see if Hepsy would start. The wise old horse turned her head, and finding several of her passengers were out of the buckboard, continued on up the grade.
When they came to the level again, the horse would stop long enough to allow the passengers to get back on the seat. But they had to jump out again when Hepsy reached the next grade.
This amused the scouts tremendously; they laughed and enjoyed the way the wise old animal balked about pulling them up the hills. But Mrs. Vernon had an idea.
“Girls, the next grade we come to, you three jump out and wait for Hepsy to start on her way, then instantly climb up on the tailboard and sit there. We’ll see if she minds the extra weight, or if she is just whimsical.”
So Hepsy halted as usual when she came to the next grade and the scouts did as the Captain suggested. They sat on the back of the buckboard floor, swinging their feet and laughing wildly at the way the horse jogged on up the hill, believing that they were walking.
Having reached the top, Hepsy waited, as was her custom, for the girls to climb in, but they merely crept over the back of the seat and then shouted: “Gid’dap!”
Perhaps it was this pulling and scrambling that moved the seat from the splintered groove, or perhaps it had not been securely slid into place when the two girls adjusted it. No one knew it had worked its way out of the slot and now was merely sitting on top of the side-rails; but the combined weight of the three girls held it firmly while the buckboard ran over level ground.
So elated were the scouts over the success of their hoax that they determined to repeat the trick at the next ascent. They sang and shouted with exuberant spirits, so that Mrs. Vernon had to hold her ears with both hands, while Betty drove.
But Hepsy became annoyed at such unseemly hilarity, and switched her tail impatiently several times. Still the scouts kept on laughing and shouting, so Hepsy expressed her irritation in starting to run.
The added speed only made the scouts laugh and shout louder, and Hepsy ran faster. As this was exactly what they all had wanted for an hour past, the girlish voices rang merrily over the hills and came back in mad echoes.
Now Hepsy determined she would not stand for such nonsense, but there was the steepest ascent of all just ahead. It was the last, but longest, on the mountainside.
Hepsy’s run turned into a gallop that rocked the vehicle from side to side, so that Betty could not control the animal. Mrs. Vernon hastily took the reins and tried to soothe the horse, but it seemed as if Hepsy said: “No, you laughed at the way I was fooled, so now I will have my turn!”
The three girls on the rear seat had to cling to each other to avoid being rolled out of the buckboard; still they never dreamed that much of the swaying was due to the seat being free from the clutch of the grooves.
Just ahead, Mrs. Vernon saw a huge flat bowlder which would prove an awful jolt unless Hepsy could be guided so as to avoid it. The Captain tugged with all her strength on the left rein, but the stubborn horse kept straight on.
Suddenly the front wheel struck the rock and the vehicle went up on one side and down on the other. With the mighty lurch, the seat toppled over, and the three occupants were shot into the bushes and grass growing beside the woodland path. The hamper rolled off afterward and stood upside down in the road.
Once over the obstacle, however, the buckboard righted itself again, and Hepsy kept galloping on as if her life depended upon it. All the shouting and yanking at the reins, that the Captain was capable of, had no effect on the animal.
She climbed the ascent in a galloping pace, and never stopped until the pathway ended in front of the Cave. Then she stood heaving and breathing as if every gasp would be her last.
Mrs. Vernon and Betty jumped and looked with fear and trembling at what had happened to the three scouts so unceremoniously tipped into the woods.
At the foot of the steep climb, the three girls were seen struggling to carry the hamper up to the Cave. But they were laughing so they could not lift the heavy basket.
The Captain made a megaphone of her hands and shouted: “Never mind! Leave the hamper. We can have dinner down there.”
Thankfully then, the scouts placed the hamper in the ferns beside the road, and climbed up to the height where the others stood.
“I never saw such an old fraud in my life!” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, when the girls came within hearing of her voice.
“Are you all right, girls?” asked Betty, anxiously.
“Yes, but weak from laughing,” shouted Joan.
“Oh, if I ever get a chance to pay Hepsy back!” threatened Ruth, angrily.
“Verny? I’d give my hat if we could only have had a movie taken of this whole episode,” added Julie, still giggling.
“I shall never accuse Hepsy of being a silly beast again,” said Mrs. Vernon, once she was satisfied there were no bruises or other injuries to the girls.
The buckboard was drawn out of the path and left beside the cave; then Hepsy was unhitched and tethered to a tree with enough rope to allow her to graze. But she kept turning her head to look quizzically at the scouts, as much as to say:
“Huh! you thought you had played a trick on me, but I managed to turn the tables, after all!”
“Verny, Hepsy’s got a wicked gleam in her eyes, just as if she dumped us out on purpose,” laughed Julie, slapping the horse on the shoulder.
Mrs. Vernon was too busy unpacking a pasteboard box to reply, so the scouts stood about her asking questions about the package.
“I brought a number of thick candles and a box of matches. Each one of you girls must carry a candle, while I go first and carry the electric flashlight,” explained Mrs. Vernon.
“How exciting!” cried Joan, trying to light her candle.
“Just like explorers in an unknown jungle,” added Julie.
“Caves, I should say, Jule,” corrected Ruth, laughingly.
“Well, are we all ready?” now asked the Captain, seeing that each scout had the candle lighted.
“All ready for the great adventure,” laughed Julie.
In the first lap of the exploration nothing unusual occurred as the footpath ran over smooth stone and sand, while the vaulted ceiling and sidewalls were far enough away to make the cave seem really larger than it was.
“It doesn’t make one feel very spooky,” said Ruth.
“Let’s wait until we get in where the water drips and the queer formations hang from the roof. That is where the hunter said the weirdness of the place impressed you,” explained Julie.
They continued deeper into the mountainside, and the air felt cooler, while the domed tunnel grew perceptibly smaller. The girls were silent now, being very careful to follow closely behind the Captain.
“I think it is quite spooky enough for me,” whispered Betty, taking hold of Mrs. Vernon’s skirt.
“If you feel this way, now, what will you do when we get away in!” laughed Julie.
The laugh echoed madly and hurled its sounds back again at the scouts, and the entire party stopped suddenly with fright.
“Oh! It was only an echo of Julie’s laugh,” sighed the Captain, in relief.
“But what a horrible maniac’s cry it was!” gasped Joan.
Betty was shivering with nervousness, when Julie again laughed, to hear the echoes come back.
“Please don’t do that!” cried Ruth, closing her ears, and at the same time dropping the candle.
Its light was extinguished, and the candle must have rolled into some crevice, for it could not be found, even though the flashlight and other candles were used to hunt for it.
“You’ll have to creep close beside me,” said Julie, linking Ruth’s arm through hers.
The cave now narrowed down so that they had to stoop to go on. About fifty feet further, the tunnel forked. Two separate tubes ran at diagonal lines with each other.
“Which shall we take first?” asked Joan, comparing the two openings.
“‘My mother told me to take this one,’” counted Julie, her finger pointing to each tunnel alternating on each word she spoke. It was the right-hand opening that was on the last count.
Mrs. Vernon laughed. “Well, we will go this way and see why your ‘mother told you to take this one.’”
The scouts laughed, too, but the echoes failed to ring back as repeatedly as in the front tunnel.
“That means we are near the end of this tube,” said Joan.
“I’m glad of it! I don’t like to be away in here,” admitted Betty.
“The roof is coming down to bump our heads, Verny,” said Julie, who was now leading.
“Then we must soon retrace our steps and take the other tube, as this was the short one that leads nowhere. The other must be the tube that leads to the stalactite cave,” said Mrs. Vernon.
The scouts proceeded a few feet further but the aperture was becoming too small to follow comfortably, and the Captain said:
“Well, we may as well turn around, girls.”
As she spoke a low moan seemed to come from the ground, and the girls huddled close to the Captain.
“What was it, Verny?” whispered Julie, fearfully.
Mrs. Vernon gravely turned her flashlight over the walls and ceiling of the rocky tunnel, then moved it slowly over the ground about them.
Just when the scouts began to feel courageous again, thinking the sound was some other form of hallucination in the cave, the light fell upon a form doubled up against the side of the rocky wall.
The scouts saw it about the same time the Captain did, and four high-pitched, excited young voices screamed fearfully, causing the tunnel behind them to echo with ear-splitting yells of terror. Even Mrs. Vernon shivered at the uncanny sight and sounds.
Betty and Ruth had hidden their faces in the Captain’s skirt, as if this would defend them from danger. But Julie and Joan stood their ground beside the Captain, trying to peer in advance of their position to see what the form could be.
“Is he drunk?” whispered Joan.
“Maybe he is murdered,” ventured Julie, causing the others to shiver again.
“No—he moaned, so he is not dead. I must find out what is the matter,” replied the Captain, bracing herself for the unpleasant task.
“Oh, Verny! Please don’t!” wailed Betty.
“He may be hoaxing us like Hepsy did—better call to him and tell him we haven’t a jewel or a cent with us,” cried Ruth.
But the form remained inanimate. Not another sound was heard other than the cries and talking of the scouts.
Mrs. Vernon went over slowly, keeping the electric light directly upon the form. The two other girls held their candles so that the footpath showed distinctly, as they walked beside the Captain. Ruth and Betty clung to each other where they had been left standing.
“Here! Get up!” ordered Mrs. Vernon, pushing the body gently with her foot.
But there was no sound or motion from the form.
The coat had been removed, but the undergarments looked like good ones, so Mrs. Vernon stooped down the better to see. The right arm was so bent upwards that it covered the face, and it seemed as if the man was sleeping that way.
“Wake up! Do you hear me?” called the Captain, again.
The fearful quiet was the only effect of the second demand, so then Mrs. Vernon carefully removed the arm from the face.
“Oh!” shrieked Julie and Joan, falling back suddenly, and even the Captain cried with horror.
“Help! Help!” screamed Ruth, not sure of what was happening to her friends.
But the movement of the arm must have caused an instance of consciousness in the man, as he made another faint sound like a sigh or a moan.
“Girls, something has happened to this man, and we have to use our scout-sense to try and carry him out to the air,” said Mrs. Vernon, turning to the girls.
“Oh, dear me! I’m afraid to go any nearer. He may die if we move him,” said Joan, fearfully.
“He’ll surely die if left here alone. It may be days or even weeks before any party again visits this Cave,” said Mrs. Vernon, emphatically.
“How terrible! We just can’t let him die, then,” admitted Julie.
“Do we have to help you?” wailed Ruth, from the rear.
“Betty and you will have to carry the lights, while we three try to carry him,” answered the Captain.
“If only we had a blanket!” sighed Julie.
“It would have been so easy to make a stretcher, then,” added Joan.
“We’ll have to contrive one from my skirt, girls. I have a full skirt on, and the pleats at the belt can quickly be ripped out.”
Even as she spoke, Mrs. Vernon slipped off the plaid skirt and began pulling at the belt. But it was well-sewed and would not give way.
“Here, let me chew open some of the stitches,” said Joan.
“No, no! I have an idea—let me burn the threads with the candle-flame,” called Julie.
“Good! Now touch it right there,” said the Captain, as she held the belt over the flame.
In a few moments, the scorched and smoking skirt belt gave way to the strength of the pull Mrs. Vernon used on it, and once the stitching began, it easily ripped across the entire width.
“That scorching also reminds me, girls! I’ve heard said that smoking wool will revive a fainting person. We will try it as soon as we have him out of this smothering place,” said the Captain.
An impromptu stretcher was then contrived of the skirt, and the three bearers lifted the unconscious man upon it. They managed to carry the form over to the spot where Betty and Ruth held the lights, but the moment Ruth saw the gash on the head, and the blood trickling from it, she screamed and clung to Betty.
“Don’t, Ruth—don’t hang on to me like that!” wailed Betty. “I’m going to faint, if you don’t let go of me!”
“Betty Lee! You’d better not!” cried Julie, desperately.
“We haven’t time to hold you up and try to revive you,” added Joan.
“Children, start ahead and show us the way, or we’ll all be taken to Court to testify why we let this man die,” ordered the Captain, hoping by such awe-inspiring words to make Betty and Ruth see the necessity of self-control.
Ruth managed to take the extra candle from Betty’s shaking hand, and say: “Come on, Betty, we’ll both be in jail for murder if we don’t.”
As this was Ruth’s interpretation of Court, and it seemed to have the desired effect, Mrs. Vernon thought best not to correct her. The two frightened girls led the way with the lights and the three bearers of the still unconscious form followed.
Finally they reached the open, and the man was placed upon the grass near the Cave entrance. “If he doesn’t regain his senses in a few moments, we will have to try that burnt wool,” said Mrs. Vernon, watching the patient very closely, while the scouts bathed his head with the water they had brought in a bottle.
But the fresh air seemed to have the hoped-for effect, for the man heaved a deep sigh and slowly opened his eyes. At first he merely stared right up at the green foliage of the trees, but as his strength came back, he tried to see who was bathing his forehead.
“Do you feel better, now?” inquired Mrs. Vernon, softly.
The man tried to speak but couldn’t, so Julie whispered: “Maybe he’s been in there for days, and needs food.”
“Some of you girls run and bring the hamper up,” said Mrs. Vernon, but the patient had heard.
“No—all right,” he managed to gasp.
After what seemed an eternity to the scouts, the man had survived far enough to sit up and lean against the front seat of the buckboard which the girls had removed and carried over.
“I fear you have had a bad accident,” said the Captain. “Do you know what happened to you in the Cave? Maybe you fell from a shelf of rock.”
“No—tramps did it.”
The girls cried out, but the Captain gave them a severe look that quieted them at once. Then she held the cup of water for the man to sip, and he freshened up visibly.
“Girls, all four of you go for the hamper, as we must eat our dinner up here. You can take turns in carrying it, you know,” said the Captain.
The scouts preferred to hover about and hear about the tramps, but Mrs. Vernon’s word was law, so they started down the hill. On the way, Ruth said, complainingly:
“We ought to hitch that lazy old horse to the buckboard and make her pull the load up the hill.”
“She’d balk halfway up, Ruth, and make us pull her up the rest of the way,” retorted Julie, laughingly.
Mrs. Vernon fanned the cut and bruised face, and wished the man could tell who he was. As if in answer to her thoughts, he whispered: “Did you find my card-case in the coat pocket?”
“No, the tramps who maltreated you so, stole everything.”
The man was not yet aware that he was in his shirt-sleeves, but now he glanced at himself and frowned.
“I beg your pardon, but you see my appearance is unavoidable,” murmured he, while a flush rose to his pale face.
“Oh, don’t think of form just now—let us help you back to a normal state as soon as possible,” replied Mrs. Vernon, earnestly.
“I am a stranger in these parts, having left the train that goes to New York, because I heard there were some marvelous caves of stalactite formation in this mountain. I was told to find a young hunter on top of this crest who would guide me,” whispered he.
“But I must have missed my way, as I found myself at the Cave itself, before I even found the trail that goes to the hunter’s cabin. I had a grip which I left outside, and taking my flashlight out of it, I started in alone.” The speaker rested a few moments, then continued: “As I reached the branch where the two tunnels fork, I heard voices. So I hailed, thinking it might be the hunter escorting a party through the Cave. Then suddenly the voices were silenced.
“That should have warned me that all was not right, but I hurried on, hoping to meet some one. Instead I suddenly was struck directly in the face with a sharp rock. The blow staggered me, but I leaned against the wall, until two hard-looking villains crept along the tunnel thinking I was unconscious.
“One of them had on stripes, so I judged they were escaped convicts. I fought them off, but the blows from a cudgel and the loss of blood from the gash made by the rock, weakened me so that I remember no more until I opened my eyes and found you bending over me.”
“How horrible! But how grateful we are that we visited the Caves to-day. What day was it that you went in there?”
“Let me think: I left the train at the Junction on the evening of July third, and stopped at a country inn for the night. Early on the Fourth I climbed the mountains, and visited the Cave. What day is it now?”
“Why this is the Fourth still! You must have been attacked but a short time before we found you. It is now noon,” exclaimed Mrs. Vernon, showing her dread of lurking rascals by calling to the girls to hasten up the hill.
“Thank heavens! Then we may catch them before they get out of the country,” said the man.
“My name is Mrs. Vernon, and I am camping in these woods with my girl scouts. But I should dread having them go about alone after this.”
“My name is Mr. Gilroy, and I certainly feel greatly obliged to your scouts and to you, Madame, for your aid.”
“If only we were not so far from camp, or such a long ride to Freedom. You could have medical attention there, and notify the police of this assault.”
“My dear Madame! I, too, have been an enthusiastic camper and can help myself better than the physicians can. Give me a few hours’ rest, and I will be as well as ever,” said Mr. Gilroy.
The scouts now came puffing up with the hamper, registering many threats against Hepsy for her untimely trick. As they came over and stood beside the Captain, she introduced them to Mr. Gilroy. They were delighted to find him so far recovered, and they said so in girlish words and expressions.
The scouts displayed as hearty an appetite as if nothing unusual had happened, but Mrs. Vernon was too concerned over the news of some tramps being at large to enjoy her dinner; she put two and two together and decided that this was what the young hunter wished to warn her about.
Mr. Gilroy seemed to like the eager attendance on him shown by the girls, but he ate sparingly of all the many goodies they urged upon him.
When the dinner was over, Mrs. Vernon said: “We must leave the hamper hidden somewhere, girls, and call back for it another day. The back seat we must leave here, also.”
“Why?” asked the scouts, wonderingly.
“Because we must contrive some sort of couch on the floor of the buckboard for Mr. Gilroy; you girls will sit on either side, or at the back of the buckboard. I can manage to crowd in one extra scout on the front seat. As Ruth is the slenderest one, I think it had better be she and Betty for the front seat, while Joan and Julie mount guard over their patient.”
The girls seemed to think the plan a good one, so the hamper and extra seat were soon hidden inside the Cave.