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CHAPTER VII
THE STORM BREAKS
Dave Shepard, followed by the other “Busters,” leaped down to the edge of the water before they came to the spot where the bank had caved. They feared that by tramping along the edge they might bring down even a greater avalanche than had fallen with the unfortunate Bessie.
“There she is, fellows!” cried Dave. “She’s hanging to the tree!”
“I see her!” returned Ferd Roberts.
“Oh, Dave! we can’t reach her,” cried another of the Busters.
“I wish the professor was here,” cried Ferd. “He’d know what to do.”
“My goodness!” returned Dave, throwing off his coat and cap. “I don’t need anybody to tell me what to do. We’ve got to go after her!”
He tore off the low shoes he wore, pitched them after his cap and coat, and leaped into the water. The current tugged hard at the end of the island, and Bessie and the uprooted sapling were being carried out farther and farther into the stream.
The girl had not screamed. Indeed, she had been startled to such a degree when she went down that she had really not breath enough for speech as yet.
The boys were “right on the job,” and only a few seconds elapsed from the moment the bank gave away until that in which Dave Shepard sprang into the river.
Some of the roots of the tree still clung to the shore. A part of the loosened earth had fallen upon these roots and so the tree was anchored. But Bessie was clinging to the hole of the sapling quite fifteen feet from the edge of the solid beach.
“Catch hold of hands, boys!” commanded Dave. “Make a chain! Give me one hand, Ferd! The current is tugging me right off my feet!”
His four mates obeyed orders promptly. Dave was captain of the Busters, as Wyn was of the Go-Ahead Club; and the boys had learned to obey their captain promptly–all but Tubby, at least. But Tubby was not in this exciting adventure at all, being asleep under the bush at their lunching place.
The fat boy was not even aroused when the crowd trooped back to the spot, boys and girls alike chattering like magpies. Dave and Ferd carried the dripping Bessie in “arm-chair” fashion and the girl who so disliked boys clung to her two chief rescuers with abandon.
They had hauled her out of the river just as she was losing her grasp on the tree. A moment later she might have been whirled down stream by the current and her life endangered. As it was, she had swallowed much water, and was just as wet inside and out as she would ever be in her life.
All the boys were more or less wet–Dave was saturated to his arm-pits. But the day was warm, and the boys were used to such duckings. It was another matter, however, with the girl. She was already shaking with an incipient chill.
“Wood on the fire, boys–get a lot of it,” commanded Dave. “And get our blankets and let’s put up a makeshift tent for Bess to use. She must get off her wet duds and wring them out and dry them. Hi! wake up that Tubby Blaisdell. We want his help.”
Ferd proceeded to walk right over the fat youth on his way for more fuel and that effectually aroused the lad.
“Hey–you! what are you about?” yawned Tubby. “Can’t you find another place to walk on but me, Ferd Roberts?”
“I’ve got to walk somewhere,” quoth Ferd.
“Why! you’re all wet,” gasped Tubby. “And so are you, Dave! And those other fellows–I declare!”
“Wake up and do something, Tubby,” commanded Dave. “We want to get a tent up, There’s been an accident, and Bessie Lavine is wetter than any of us. Let’s have your knife.”
“My–my knife?” yawned Tubby, rolling over slowly to reach into his breeches pocket.
This was too good a chance for Ferd to resist. Tubby was rolling near the edge of the bank as Ferd came back with his arms full of broken branches. Ferd put his foot against Tubby’s back and pushed with all his might.
“Hi! Stop that! Ugh!”
Tubby rolled over once–he rolled over twice; then, with many ejaculations and bumps rolled completely down the slope, amid the laughter of the boys and girls above him.
Tubby missed the canoes–by good luck–and rolled with a splash into a shallow pool at the river’s edge.
“You mean thing!” he yelled, getting up with some alacrity and shaking his fist at Ferd. “I–I’m all wet.”
“So are we, Tubby,” Dave said. “You belong to our lodge now. Come on up here with that knife of yours. Didn’t I tell you I wanted to use it?”
The other boys were scurrying after stakes and blankets, while the girls fed the fire till it roared high, and Bessie stood in the heat of the flames.
“What do you think of the boys now, Bess?” Frank Cameron whispered in the victim’s ear. “Some good–at times–eh?”
“Now, don’t worry her, Frank,” commanded Mina, the tender-hearted. “The poor, dear girl! See–she’s just as wet as she can possibly be.”
“Oh, and wasn’t I scared!” gasped Bess, honestly. “When that bank went down I thought I was right on my way through to China! I did, indeed.”
“I was so thankful Dave was there,” said Wyn Mallory, thoughtfully. “You see, Dave is one of those dependable boys.”
“I’ve got to admit it,” gasped Bess. “He’s some good. Why! he caught me just as I was slipping off that tree. I can’t thank him!”
“Never mind,” said Wyn, cheerfully. “It is decided, I guess, that the boys may be of some use to us this summer, after all.”
“That’s so, if we’re all going to run the risk of drowning,” Grace Hedges observed.
“I am going to learn to swim better,” declared Bess. “I’ll just put my t–time all in on that. But, oh, girls! I am so wet!”
“Tent’s ready, ladies!” shouted Dave Shepard. “Make her take her clothing off, Wyn. We fellows will get the professor and go over to the other side of the island for a swim. Ferd and I have got to strip off and wring out our trousers, anyway. And I reckon Tubby is some wet.”
“That’s all right,” grumbled the fat youth, waddling after his mates. “I’ll pay Ferd out for that–you see!”
The boys were back in an hour and a half. By that time Bess had been made quite presentable, for her garments had been dried over the fire. However, the girls were dressed in a way to stand–as well as might be–such accidents as Bessie had met.
The girl who had declared boys no good frankly shook hands with Dave before they embarked again, and thanked him very prettily for his help in time of need.
“Go ahead! get a medal for me,” said Dave. “Pin it right there,” and he pointed to the lapel of his jacket. “I’m a hero. Keep on praising me, Miss Lavine, and I’ll grow as tall as a giraffe.”
“And that’s the highest form of animal life–ask the professor if it isn’t,” chuckled Frank Cameron.
But they were all very thankful that nothing serious had resulted from the accident. There was an after-result, however, that promised to be unpleasant. They had been so delayed at the island that it was half-past three before they got off. There was still a long stretch to paddle to Meade’s Forge at the foot of Honotonka Lake.
And, swiftly as they paddled, the sun was setting when they arrived at the Forge. Besides, a heavy cloud was coming up, threatening a storm. Indeed, lightning was already playing around the horizon behind them.
There was no hotel at the Forge, and no good place to stop for the night. Mrs. Havel was out in her canoe waiting for them. Gannet Island, where the boys were to camp, was in sight, and the camping place the girls had had selected for them was even nearer.
“We had better go at once,” said the professor, earnestly. “We will stop and help you erect your tents first – ”
“No, you will not,” returned Mrs. Havel. “The girls and I have got to learn to be independent. Besides, your stores are waiting for you over there on the island, and I understand from the boatmen that the things are not yet under cover. You must hurry. We’ll get along all right; won’t we, girls?”
“Sure!” agreed Frank.
“We haven’t come up here to be a burden on the boys, I hope,” said Wyn, sturdily.
Wyn was captain, and as both she and Mrs. Havel thought they could get along all right, it was not for the other girls to object. The professor and the boys bade them good-bye and paddled away as fast as possible for the distant island. Even Tubby put forth some effort, for the thunderstorm was surely coming.
Tired as they were, the girls of the Go-Ahead Club made their paddles fly for another half-hour. Then they were in sight of a white birch, to the top of which was fastened a long streamer, like a pennant.
“There’s the place!” cried Wyn, recognizing the signal that Polly Jarley had written to her about.
“And yonder is the boatman’s place where our stores were left?” asked Mrs. Havel.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We cannot stop for anything now, and must depend for the night upon what we have with us. I don’t like the look of that cloud,” said the lady.
None of the girls liked the look of it, either. It had now rolled up to the zenith–a leaden mass, looming over them most threateningly. And there was a rumble of thunder in the summer air.
“Oh! what a beautiful spot!” cried Percy.
“See that reach of lawn–and the thick grove behind it. Goodness me!” exclaimed Mina Everett, “do you suppose there are bears in that woods?”
“If there are, we’ll catch ’em and eat ’em,” said Frank, practically. “Now you know, Mina, there hasn’t been a bear shot in this state since your grandfather’s time.”
“Well, then, if there’s been none shot, maybe there are a lot grown up here in the woods,” objected Mina.
“Don’t scare a fellow to death with your croaking,” admonished Percy.
Bessie had known that Polly Jarley had chosen the site for the camp; and she was secretly prepared to find fault with it. But as they drove their canoes ashore on the little, silvery beach below the green knoll where the pennant fluttered, Bess could find in her heart no complaint.
It seemed an ideal spot. On three sides the thick woods sheltered the knoll of green. In front the lake lay like a mirror–its surface whitened in ridges ’way out toward the middle now, for the wind was coming.
“Hurry ashore, girls,” said Mrs. Havel. “And pull your canoes well up on the sand. We must hurry to get our shelter up first of all. It will rain before dark, and the night is coming fast.”
“Wish the boys had stopped to help us,” wailed Grace.
“And let their own stores get all wet–eh?” cried Wyn. “For shame! Come on, girls. To the tent!”
There was a pile of canvas which had been dropped here by the bateau men on their way to Gannet Island that forenoon. There were stakes and poles with the canvas, and the girls had practised putting up the shelter and striking it for some weeks in Wyn’s back yard.
They were not so clumsy at this work, therefore; but it did seem, because they were in a hurry, that everything went wrong.
Mina pounded her thumb with a stake-mallet, and the ridge pole fell once and struck Grace on the side of the head. Poor Grace was always unfortunate.
“Oh, dear me! I wish I was home!” wailed the big girl. “And ouch! it’s going to thunder and lightning just awful!”
“Now, keep at work!” admonished their captain. “Fasten those pegs down well, Frankie,” she added, to the girl, who had taken the mallet. “Never mind crying over your poor thumb, Mina. Wait till the tent’s up and all our things brought up from the canoes.”
“Here come the first drops, girls!” shrieked Frankie.
Drops! It was a deluge! It came across the lake in a perfect wall of water, shutting out their view of Gannet Island and everything else.
The girls scuttled for the canoes, emptied them, turned the boats keel upward, and then retreated to the big tent, Wyn even dragging the canvas of the cook tent inside to keep it from becoming saturated.
Fortunately the last peg had been secured. The flap was laced down quickly. In the semi-darkness of the sudden twilight the girls and Mrs. Havel stood together and listened to the rain drum upon the taut canvas.
How it sounded! Worse than the rain on a tin roof! Peering out through the slit in the middle of the tent-flap they could see nothing but a gray wall of water.
Suddenly there was a glaring blue flash, followed soon by the roar of the thunder. Several of the girls cried out and crouched upon the ground.
“Oh, dear me! this is awful!” groaned Grace again.
Mina Everett was sobbing with the pain in her thumb and her fear of the lightning.
“Now, this will never do, girls,” admonished Wyn Mallory. “Come! we can set up the alcohol lamp and make tea. That will help some. There are crackers and some ham, and a whole big bottle of olives. Why! we sha’n’t starve for supper, that’s sure.”
“I–I don’t know as I want to eat,” quavered Mina.
“Pshaw! We Go-Aheads must not be afraid of a little storm – ”
Wyn’s voice was drowned in the clap of thunder which accompanied an awful flash of lightning. With both came a splintering crash, the tent seemed to rock, and for a moment its interior was vividly illuminated by the electric bolt. The lightning had struck near at hand.
CHAPTER VIII
AT WINDMILL FARM
Both Wyn and Mrs. Havel–the bravest of the seven gathered in the big tent–were frightened by this awful shock. The other girls clung to them, Mina and Grace sobbing aloud.
“I–I feel as though that bolt fairly seared my eyeballs,” groaned Frank Cameron. “Oh, dear! Here’s another!”
But this flash was not so severe. The girls peered out of the slit in the front of the tent and screamed again in alarm. The rain had passed for the moment. There, not many rods away, stood an old, half-dead oak with its top all ablaze.
“That is where the lightning struck,” cried Wyn.
“It is fortunate our tent was no nearer to that side of the plateau,” observed Mrs. Havel.
Then the rain commenced again, and the thudding on the canvas drowned out their voices for a time.
Somehow Wyn managed to get supper. The thunder and lightning gradually subsided; but for an hour the rain came in intermittent dashes and it was nine o’clock before they could venture forth into the cool, damp air.
They had eaten their simple meal and set up the sleeping cots (which were likewise of canvas) before that. There was a flooring of matched planks to be laid, too; but the rain had wet them and the girls would have to wait for to-morrow’s sun to dry them.
“Oh! I don’t believe living under canvas is going to be half so nice as we thought,” complained Mina. “I never did think about its storming.”
“A bad beginning makes a good ending,” quoted Mrs. Havel, brightly. “This is only for one night.”
“Excuse me! I don’t want another like it, Auntie,” declared her niece.
They could have no lamp to see to go to bed by, save Wyn’s pocket electric flash.
“And it’s so plaguey awkward!” cried Frankie. “Here one of us has to hold the snapper shut so the others can see. Here, Mina! I’ve played Goddess of Liberty long enough; you hold the lamp awhile.”
Wyn slung a line from one end of the tent to the other, and on this they hung their clothes. All the girls were provided with warm pajamas as being safer night garments under canvas than the muslin robes they wore at home.
“I do feel so funny,” cried Percy, hopping into her own nest. “I can’t curl my toes up in my nightgown–they stick right out at the bottom of these trousers!”
“And doesn’t the grass tickle your feet?” cried Frank, dancing about between the cots. “My, my! this is camping out in real earnest. O-o-o! Here’s a trickle of water running under the side of the tent, Wyn.”
“You can thank your stars it isn’t running through a hole in the tent right upon your heads,” responded the captain. “Do get into bed, Frank.”
Even Frank was quiet at last. The day had been a strenuous one. The muttering thunder in the distance lulled them to sleep. Soon the big white tent upon the knoll by the lake was silent save for the soft breathing of the girls and their chaperone.
And–odd as it may seem, considering the strangeness of their surroundings–all the girls slept soundly through the night. It was Wyn Mallory herself who first opened her eyes and knew, by the light outside, that it must be near sunrise.
Up she popped, stepping lightly over the cold grass so as not to arouse her mates and Mrs. Havel, and reached the opening. She peered through. To the east the horizon was aglow with melting shades of pink, amber, turquoise and rose. The sun was coming!
Wyn snapped open the flap and ran out to welcome His Majesty. Then, however, she remembered that she was in pajamas, and glanced around swiftly to see if she was observed.
Not a soul was in sight. At that moment the first chorus of the feathered choir that welcomes the day in the wilds, had ceased. Silence had fallen upon the forest and upon the lake.
Only the lap, lap, lap of the little waves upon the shore was audible. The wind did not stir the tree branches. There was a little chill in the air after the storm, and the ground was saturated.
Wyn was doubtful about that “early morning plunge” in the lake that she had heard the boys talk about, and which she had secretly determined to emulate. But the boys’ camp was at the far end of Gannet Island and she could not see it at all. She wondered if Dave and his friends would plunge into that awfully cold-looking water on this chilly morning?
To assure herself that the water was cold she ran down to where the canoes lay and poked one big toe into the edge of the pool. Ouch! it was just like ice!
“No, no!” whispered Wyn, and scuttled up the bank again, hugging herself tight in both arms to counteract the chill.
But she couldn’t go back to bed. It was too beautiful a morning. And all the others were sleeping soundly.
Wyn decided that she would not awaken them. But she slipped inside, selected her own clothing, and in ten minutes was dressed. Then she ran down to the pool again, palmed the water all over her face, rubbing her cheeks and forehead and ears till they tingled, and then wiped dry upon the towel she had brought with her.
Another five minutes and her hair was braided Indian fashion, and tied neatly. Then the sun popped up–broadly agrin and with the promise in his red countenance of a very warm day.
“Good-morning, Mr. Sun!” quoth Wyn, dancing a little dance of her own invention upon the summit of the green knoll that overhung the lake before the tent. “I hope you give us a fine day, and that we all enjoy it.”
With a final pirouette she ran back to the tent. Still Mrs. Havel and the others slept.
“What lazy folk!” she told them, in a whisper, and then caught up a six-quart pail and ran back through the open place and found the wood road that Polly had written her about.
She knew that to her left lay the way to the landing where Mr. Jarley kept his boats, and where their stores were under cover in a shed. But breakfast was the first consideration, and in the other direction lay Windmill Farm, at which Polly told her she had arranged for the Go-Aheads to get milk, fresh eggs, and garden vegetables.
So Wyn tripped along this right hand extension of the wood path and, within half an hour, came out of the forest upon the edge of the cleared farm. Before her lay sloping fields up, up, up to a high knoll, on the top of which stood a windmill, painted red.
The long arms of the mill, canvas-covered, rose much higher in the air than the gilt vane that glistened on the very peak of the roof. The rising sun shone full upon the windmill and made it a brilliant spot of color against the blue sky; but the wind was still and the sails did not cause the arms to revolve.
Just below the mill, upon the leisurely slope of the knoll, was set the white-painted farmhouse, with well-kept stables and out-buildings and poultry yards and piggery at the rear.
“What a pretty spot!” cried Wyn, aloud. “And the woods are so thick between it and the lake that one would never know it was here.”
She hurried on, for she knew by the smoke rising from the house chimney and the bustle of sound from the barnyard that the farmer and his family were astir.
Before she reached the side porch a number of cows, one with a bell on her neck leading the herd, filed out through the side yard and took a lane for the distant pasture. Horses neighed for their breakfasts, the pigs squealed in their sties and there was a pretty young woman singing at the well curb as she drew a great, splashing bucket of water.
“Oh! you’re one of the girls Polly Jarley told us were coming to the lake to camp?” said the farmer’s wife, graciously. “And did you get here in the storm last night? How do you all like it?”
“I can only answer for myself,” declared Wyn, laughing. “They were all asleep when I came away. But I guess if we have nothing worse to trouble us than that shower we shall get along all right.”
“You’re a plucky girl–for a city one,” said the woman. “Now, do you want milk and eggs?”
Wyn told her what she wanted, and paid for the things. Then she started back to camp, laden with the brimming milk pail and a basket which the farmer’s wife had let her have.
The sun was now mounting swiftly in his course across the sky. Faintly she heard the sawmill at the Forge blowing a whistle to call the hands, and knew that it was six o’clock. She hurried her steps and reached the opening where the tent was pitched just as the first sleepy Go-Ahead was creeping out to see what manner of day it might be.
“For goodness’ sake, Wyn Mallory!” cried this yawning nymph in blue pajamas. “Have you been up all night?”
“Aren’t you cute in those things, Percy?” returned Wyn. “You look just like a doll in a store window. Come on and dress. It’s time you were all up. Why! the day will be gone before you know it.”
“Oh–ow–ouch!” yawned Percy, and then jumped quickly through the opening of the tent because Grace Hedges pushed her.
“Why! the sun’s up!” cried the big girl. “Why! and there’s Wyn with milk–and eggs–and pretty red radishes–and peas. Mercy me! Look at all the things in this basket. Whose garden have you been robbing, Wyn?”
“Come on!” commanded the captain of the Go-Ahead Club. “I brought a bag of meal in my canoe. And there is salt, and aluminum bowls, and spoons. We can make a good breakfast of eggs and mush. Hurry up, all you lazy folk, and help get breakfast.”
“O-o-o! isn’t the grass cold!” exclaimed one girl who had just stepped out from between woolen blankets.
“I–I feel as though I were dressing outdoors,” gasped another, with chattering teeth. “D-don’t you suppose anybody can see through this tent?”
“Nonsense, goosey!” ejaculated Frank. “Hurry up and get into your clothes. You take up more room than an elephant.”
“Did you ever share a dressing room with an elephant, Frank?” demanded Bess.
“Not before,” returned the thin girl, grimly. “But I am preparing for that experience when I try to dress in the same tent with Gracie.”
But they were all eager to get outside when they sniffed the smoke of the campfire, and, a little later, the odor of eggs “frying in the pan.” Despite the saturated condition of most of the underbrush Wyn knew where to get dry wood for fuel, Dave had long ago taught her that bit of woodcraft.
With a small camp hatchet she had attacked the under branches of the spruce and low pine trees, and soon had a good heap of these dead sticks near the tent. She turned over a flat stone that lay near by for a hearth. Before the other girls and Mrs. Havel were dressed and had washed their faces at the lakeside, Captain Wyn was stirring mush in a kettle and frying eggs in pork fat in a big aluminum pan.
“Sunny side up; or with a veil of brown drawn over their beautiful faces, Frankie?” asked Wyn, referring to the sizzling eggs. “How do you like ’em?”
“I like ’em on toast–‘Adam and Eve on a raft’ Brother Ed calls ’em. And when he wants ’em scrambled he says, ‘Wreck ’em!’”
“You’ll get no toast this morning,” declared Wyn. “You’ll be satisfied with crackers–or go without.”
“Cruel lady!” quoth Frank. “I expect I’ll have to accept my yoke of eggs – ”
“Only the yolk of the eggs, Frank?”
“No, I mean the pair I want,” laughed Frankie. “And I’ll take ’em without the toast and–‘sunny side up.’”
“Good! I can’t turn an egg without breaking it–never could. Now, girls! bring your plates. I’ll flop a pair of eggs onto each plate. There’s crackers in the box. Hand around your bowls. The cornmeal mush is nice, and there is lovely milk and sugar if you want it. For ‘them that likes’ there is coffee.”
“M-m-m! Doesn’t it smell good?” cried Grace, as the party came trooping to the fire with their kits.
“I–I thought I’d miss the sweet butter,” said Bess, sitting down cross-legged on the already dry grass. “But somehow I’ve got such an appetite.”
“I hope the boys are having as good a time,” sighed Wyn, sitting back upon her heels and spooning up her mush, flooded with the new milk. “Isn’t this just scrumptious, Mrs. Havel?”
“It is the simple life,” replied that lady, smiling. “Plenty of fresh air, no frills, plain food–that ought to do much for you girls this summer. I am sure if you can endure plain food and simple living for these several weeks before us, you will all be improved in both health and mind.”
