Kitabı oku: «Girl Scouts in the Rockies», sayfa 7
CHAPTER NINE – A THRILLING CANOE TRIP
With one pack mule less, Jolt had more to carry but he seemed not to mind it. He was made up of that temperament like few humans, that as long as he had plenty to eat and a place to sleep, it mattered not how hard he had to work at other times.
The day following Mr. Lewis’s departure with Omney and the cubs, the scouts broke camp and moved along the trail to pitch a camp nearer Battle Mountain. From this spot Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon could daily rove about, hunting for the precious bits of rock and débris that meant so much to the geologist. Here the party planned to await the return of Omney and the mule, Frolic.
The new camp near Battle Mountain was much like the old one, with the exception of its being nearer the trail instead of way back in the woods. Thus it happened that the second day of camping, a party of tourists stopped to ask which trail would lead them to a certain stream where they were to meet a party of canoeists.
Tally explained how they could reach the place, and after they had gone, Joan sighed, “I wish we could canoe for a change!”
“It wouldn’t be much like the infant trips we took last summer,” said Ruth.
“I should say not! In the Rockies there’d be rapids, then a whirlpool, and then over a waterfall – to extinction!” laughed Julie.
“All the same, others take these trips safely, – why shouldn’t experienced scouts?” added Anne.
“Just because we never thought of it, with all our other excitement,” answered Ruth.
“Now that we have thought of it, let’s ask Verny why there are no places where one can hire a canoe,” suggested Julie.
The girls laughed at such an idea, but the thought of what a wonderful experience it would be to canoe on these streams, clung to their minds, and so the Captain heard about it.
“Even if you had canoes, there are no navigable streams,” said she.
“Those folks who stopped to ask Tally the way to Flat Top base were to meet friends who canoed all the way from somewhere,” said Joan.
“Yes, they told us they were to meet the party there and all were going to cross the Divide on horses, then come back and canoe home,” added Judith.
“It seems too bad that all those fine canoes must remain idle while those folks are riding over the Divide,” sighed Julie.
Mrs. Vernon purposely ignored the sigh and the insinuation, then did her best to change the subject to one more practical. But the Fates were against her this time.
The following morning, two of the men who had previously stopped to inquire the right trail to take, returned to ask Tally if he knew of any one who would sell them, or hire out, a number of mountain-climbing horses. Now that the canoeing party had arrived, there were no extra horses for them to ride.
“How many horses will you need?” asked Julie, quickly scheming.
“There are eight people in the party, and they will want one or two extra horses for the luggage,” replied the man.
“There are nine horses and one mule in our outfit,” hinted Julie, her eyes gleaming as she glanced at the Captain.
“But your mounts will do us no good,” laughed the man.
“Oh, they might, if you could persuade us to swap for a time,” said Julie, daringly.
“Julie, what do you mean?” demanded Mrs. Vernon, angrily.
“Why, one likes to be brotherly, you know, Verny, and in the wilds, far from other people, we ought to do a good turn to strangers. Here is a party with a number of canoes but no horses, and here are we with horses but no canoes – see my point?” she said.
“Even though you are the Scout Leader, Julie, I do not see how you can even suggest such a step. The Captain refuses to listen to any argument along those lines,” said Mrs. Vernon sternly.
“We scouts like to canoe, and we will be here at camp for several weeks, so a little side trip like the one offered now would be most delightful,” responded Julie, who understood that the Captain’s objections arose mostly from dread of the scouts taking the trip on unknown streams.
“Several weeks! Why, we are only camping here for a few days,” retorted Mrs. Vernon. “Besides I have no idea of exchanging safe methods of travel, for what is known to be a great risk.”
“Verny, Gilly told Uncle last night that he had enough material on hand in these moraines to keep him busy for a year, if he wanted to do the thing properly. But even as it was, he proposed spending several weeks between here and Tyndall Glacier,” said Joan, to corroborate Julie’s statement.
“Well, what of that? Would you advise me to loan the horses Gilly gave security for, to a party of strangers we never saw in our lives?”
Before any one could answer, Mr. Gilroy hurried back to camp. “I’ve forgotten my magnifying glasses, girls. Don’t stop me for anything, now,” said he.
He ran into his tent and was out again in a moment, but one of the men who came to ask about horses, recognized him in that moment.
“Why, it is Mr. Gilroy, who has a place in the Adirondacks!” exclaimed he, coming forward.
“Well of all people! You’re the last I looked for in the Rockies, Kenmore!” laughed Mr. Gilroy, shaking hands with his friend from the East.
“Funny how we should happen to meet like this,” said Mr. Kenmore, then he introduced his companion. Mr. Gilroy, in turn, introduced the two men to Mrs. Vernon and the girls.
When Mr. Kenmore told his story, and why he had stopped at the camp, Julie hastily interpolated and repeated what she had said about a fair exchange of horses and canoes. But no one spoke of the Captain’s fears.
“Say, Ken, that plan might work out all right,” declared Mr. Gilroy. “How long shall you folks want to use the horses?”
“Why, as to that – we can go as far as your time permits, and return when you say.”
“Well, I’ll tell you! I’ve got to be about these diggings for another ten days or two weeks at least, and if the scouts want to take a little canoe trip during that time, I think it will be fine! What do you say, Captain?” and Mr. Gilroy turned to Mrs. Vernon.
“You seem to have settled everything before you asked my opinion. Yet there would be no scouts in the Rockies if I were not responsible for each one of them on this trip!”
“Why, Captain! I imagined you were as eager for this trip as the girls seem to be!” exclaimed Mr. Gilroy, aghast.
“Eager – what for? Losing half the scouts in a whirlpool because of a silly notion of Juliet’s?” The very mention of Julie’s full name sobered every one considerably, for they realized that the Captain was very serious in her objecting to this new risk.
Mr. Gilroy suggested, “Can you two men spend the day with Mrs. Vernon and the scouts? I’ve simply got to rush away and meet Mr. Vernon. Then we will plan to-night after dinner, and see what we can do. I do know that there’s no use your trailing back unless you go all the way to Loveland or Boulder for your mounts – and you won’t want to lose all that time, I’m sure.”
So Mr. Kenmore and his friend, Mr. Neil, spent a pleasant day with the scouts, and at night the subject of canoeing was again debated.
Finally, Joan said, “It’s foolish of Verny to say we will drown, when we won badges for our canoeing last year, and carried off the prizes for our county this spring.”
“These girls are better swimmers and more expert canoeists than most,” added Mr. Gilroy.
“Besides, my dear,” said Mr. Vernon to his wife, “it is not as if they had to paddle. With expert Indians to guide the crafts, why do you feel so timid about the trip?”
“We only have Tally, and he can paddle but one canoe at a time. If only Omney were here, he could take charge of one, and I could manage the other one,” sighed Mrs. Vernon, feeling overcome by the combined arguments of the others.
“How many canoes have you?” asked Mr. Gilroy.
“Three large ones, built for parties,” replied Mr. Kenmore. “My wife is a poor swimmer and knows nothing about a canoe, yet she had no fear in trusting herself to the expert Indian who managed the canoe she was in.”
“Why not let that Indian take charge of one canoe? Then the Captain will feel safer, and her responsibility will be less?” suggested Mr. Gilroy.
“We’d be glad to, as that will take care of him until we come back from our ride.”
Finally, Mrs. Vernon said, “If you agree to wait until Omney returns, so we can let him manage one of the canoes, I’ll withdraw most of my objections, but still I am not in favor of this trip!”
Having gained that much, the scouts knew better than to urge more at that time. Mr. Kenmore was relieved to find he could go back to his party with such good news – that horses and pack-mules were found as if by a fairy. He thought to himself, “By a clever little scout of a fairy, called Julie!”
Before the two men left camp in the morning, it was all settled. As soon as Omney returned, the scouts would break camp and ride on until they reached the camp pitched by Mr. Kenmore’s party. Mr. Gilroy and Mr. Vernon would move leisurely along, searching in the moraines during the day, and pitching camp wherever they were when night fell. There would be no outfits to look after, and no cares about scouts, so they would reach Flat Top about the time the canoe party returned from its trip.
As soon as Omney came back to camp, therefore, every one was ready to proceed along the trail to Kenmore’s Camp. When the scout party rode into that camp, every one there was glad to see them, for they had heard about the scout outing and the plan to exchange horses for canoes, for a short time, at least.
“Couldn’t be better if Providence itself planned it all!” declared Mrs. Kenmore, enthusiastically. “Don’t you think so, Mrs. Vernon?”
“I’ll wait until we return before I commit myself. I always did think folks blamed Providence too much for what really was their own stubborn will,” returned the Captain.
Her repartee caused a laugh, and Julie exclaimed, “Verny, I fear you are coming down with chills and fever, – you never were so pessimistic before!”
“Yes, you are awfully lugubrious, Verny. At home you are with us on any wildcat scheme,” added Ruth.
“That’s it! It took a trip to the Rockies to show me what I was at home – for your wildcat schemes. Now I’m learning sense!” declared the Captain.
Mr. Kenmore had a brilliant idea, and he instantly followed it up. He brought the Indian guide who had paddled the canoe to camp, and introduced him to Mrs. Vernon, as his future mistress for the canoe trip.
The Captain saw the tall slender form, the fine muscular development of the Indian, and the polite demeanor. Then she said, “Have you been in the Rockies long?”
“Borned here. My fodder Chief of waterways in Colorado when she was territory and me lee’l boy.” The Indian demonstrated how small he was at that time.
“John tells me he has spent the last twenty years on these streams flowing from the Rockies. So he can be depended upon,” said Mr. Kenmore.
That noon, the party wishing to cross the Divide rode away with the horses and two pack-mules, while the three Indian guides showed Mrs. Vernon the route they proposed taking for the canoe trip. They would follow the creek that eventually emptied its crystal waters into Glacier Creek. But the latter had many fine tributaries, so they would follow one of these to a spot John knew of, where a short carry of a mile would bring them to a splendid river along which they could canoe for miles and miles.
The blankets and other necessities were carefully packed in the bottom of the canoes, and the slat frameworks for the flooring were laid down over them. Then the scouts divided their party and got into the three large canoes, with an experienced guide for each.
When they were once under way, Mrs. Vernon began to enjoy the trip as much as any one of the scouts. She leaned back comfortably in the canoe as she thought to herself, “What’s so enjoyable as this peaceful riding over placid waters, and passing by Nature’s wonder-spots!”
The Indians thoroughly enjoyed canoeing, and the two boys, Tally and Omney, were delighted at the change of plan that made this water trip possible for them. The paddles were in capable hands, and the canoes responded instantly to every touch.
A stroke one way and the canoe would evade a snag thrusting its ugly head from the stream. A stroke the other way, and the passengers quickly rounded a finger of land that jutted out into the water. Now and then a quick stroke, and a rock was passed without scraping, and all was done so quietly that no undue fear was roused.
They rode under massive overhanging rocks, glided past flat banks of land where gorgeous bloom offered sweetest nectar to bees and butterflies. Then they would shoot by cliffs whose towering sides were bare and threatening, or were overrun with vines and topped with giant pines whose roots found a hold down on the other side of the rock.
Finally the current began to run swifter, and still swifter. The Captain sat, half-mesmerized by the swirling water as the canoe shot through it. She was in a delicious state of mind when a stifled scream from Julie, in the leading canoe, caused her to rouse instantly.
They were sweeping around a wooded curve in the stream, and just before them was a series of little rapids that foamed and frothed. Farther on a narrow gorge was seen, and here the water doubled on itself and curled backward in its attempt to escape from the frowning walls of rock on either side.
Now the canoes were in the white churning waters! Now they were cutting through the foam, the wavelets striving to pile up and over the top of the canoes. The rapids roared as they flung themselves against the rocky wall just ahead, and the Captain murmured, “Oh, I hope no one runs into that!”
Then the three canoes were flying through the gorge, riding over the lapping waters, and now they were out again on the other side, gliding silently across a wide expanse of dark-green lake. And now the Captain heaved a sigh of relief and sent up a prayer of thanks for the protection.
The lake was quickly crossed, and again the three canoes were going down what seemed to be a chute. The scouts gasped at the speed, and grasped the edges of the crafts tightly. When the first canoe, managed by John, came to the spot, he called back a warning to the other two guides. And all three bent their muscles to the work in hand.
Suddenly, without other warning, Mrs. Vernon felt as if the canoe she sat in had dropped from under her – its flight was so swift that she scarcely realized the motion. Then – s-s-suash! down it came upon the top of the water again – but far ahead of whence it sprang. She turned to look at what could have caused this queer sensation and saw they had ridden a “rift.”
The three Indians cheered and complimented the scouts for their courage in this their first rift. So the scouts understood that such things were mere joys to an Indian and nothing to be frightened about.
During the afternoon the line of canoes reached one of the wildest and most alluring spots in the mountains. The forest was not so dense here, the water was smoother, and the stream wider. The Indians were warning each other “Watch out!” so their passengers were alert also. No one wanted to miss a single thrill of this marvelous trip.
Now a sound as of thunder in the distance reached their ears, and the Captain wondered what it could be. As the canoes sped onward, the sound grew plainer and louder, and caused a clutch of fear at the throats of the girls. But the Indians smiled eagerly and allayed undue trepidation.
Then quite suddenly, coming out of a screen of overhanging verdure, the strange sounds broke into wild tearing, roaring, pulsating tones, and the canoes slid down upon the tawny yellow chute of a real cataract!
The bulky black things that flashed up before the canoes, only to be as swiftly passed by, were rocks! The queer, rocking, green-gold glass they were sliding upon was water! And then, as in the rift, after a sudden sinking as if through space, they all rode out safely upon another deep quiet lake of dark-green water.
That night the Indians made camp on the moonlit shores of a marvelous lake. They had not bothered to stop for much dinner at noon, so every one was hungry by evening. Freshly caught fish, and the food that only an Indian can find and cook to perfection, made the scouts feel “like monarchs of all they surveyed.”
Such thrilling experiences as John could tell, kept the scouts gasping until Mrs. Vernon suggested they had best go to bed if they wished to continue in the morning. The beds of sweet bracken made up by Tally never held more appreciative mortals than the scouts, after the entertainment furnished by John had ended.
For breakfast, there were wild ducks’ eggs, found by Omney; stewed Indian potatoes, dug by Tally; Indian onions, discovered by John; and delicious coffee, brought by Mrs. Vernon. Then they cleared away all signs of the camp and proceeded along the way.
The second day of the canoeing there was no fear felt by any one, as the Indians had proved to be adequate for any emergency, and the canoes were splendidly constructed craft. In them the scouts shot rapids, rode down cataracts, bobbed about in whirlpools, and then – rode out upon quiet lakes laughing merrily in their nervous tension.
Finally Julie felt tired of sitting still, and asked to paddle. But the guides shook their heads. No amount of coaxing could make them turn over the paddles to other hands. The Indians knew their responsibility, and were determined to avoid trouble.
The third morning, Julie said, “We can paddle so well, Tally, and some of these lakes are as tame as dish-water.”
“Den wait to dinnertime at camp!” said Tally, unthinkingly.
The rest of the morning was passed in dodging great rocks, passing through arched aisles, where the water cut a way through the timber, or again rocking perilously in a seething bowl of froth, to be shot out at the other side, and then ride along on smooth water.
That noonday they landed on a blossoming meadow for camp. The canoes were taken from the water and turned over on the beach, while the Indians hunted for food to cook for dinner. Two of them started for an inland pond where they saw flocks of wild duck, and John began to catch fish for cooking.
Mrs. Vernon took charge of the fire, and the scouts made bread, set the dishes out and did other chores. Julie and Joan had been sent to hunt for a fresh spring of water, and in passing the canoes where they had been left, Joan said, “The lake’s like a millpond.”
“I’d like to paddle across to the other side and climb that steep knoll. I bet there’s a fine view from there,” said Julie.
“Verny would have a fit!” declared Joan, looking back but not seeing the camp, as the bank hid it from sight.
“It wouldn’t take long, and I’m dying to try these canoes,” suggested Julie.
“Come on, then,” responded Joan. “I suppose it’s safe.”
“Of course, and Tally said we might try at noon-time.”
“We’ll just shoot over and back again,” said Joan, as the two girls managed to carry the canoe to the water.
No one saw them glide away, and no one missed them at first, as they were thought to be hunting for spring water. Then when dinner was ready there was no Julie or Joan to be found!
CHAPTER TEN – JULIE AND JOAN’S PREDICAMENT
It was all very well to talk about paddling across a quiet little lake, but it was another thing when one got into the swift current that ran past the rocky bluff where the girls wished to land. There was no shallow water anywhere, where they might get out and beach the canoe, so Julie paddled with the current for a distance, leaving the camp site far behind.
Joan kept gazing for a likely spot to anchor in, but there were none such. Then suddenly, the canoe was caught in a swirl of water that was caused by the outpouring of a creek, and Julie discovered that managing a large canoe built for Rocky Mountain waters was far different from steering a light craft across a home lake, or along the canal that ran through the town.
“Why are you going this way, Julie – why not stick to the shore line?” asked Joan, as the canoe was driven along with the current.
“Stick to nothing! How can I help going this way when the current is as mad as a Jehu!” cried Julie, desperately.
“Then let me help in some way.”
“I only wish you could, but we only have one paddle.”
Joan glanced at the water. It was running quite shallow just where they were. An idea flashed into her mind.
“Julie, I’ll get out and pull the canoe upstream while you help with the paddle.”
Julie made no demur, although she said, warningly, “Don’t let go of the canoe for a second, will you?”
“Of course not! Did you think I wanted to be left on a desert shore?” laughed Joan, climbing out.
She managed to drag the canoe for quite a distance upstream again, while Julie paddled with all her might. At times Joan stepped down in a hole and had to cling to the canoe to save herself. At such times the craft swung back again downstream, making the girls do the same work all over again. Finally Joan’s teeth began chattering and she managed to quiver forth, “The water’s like ice!”
“You’ve been in too long. Now you get in and let me take your place, Jo. Later you can switch off with me again, and in that way we’ll get back to still water opposite camp.”
So Julie jumped out and Joan got in to paddle, but her hands were stiff with the chill and her whole body shaking, hence her paddling was not of much use. Julie was the stronger of the two scouts, so she managed to pull the canoe upstream splendidly, and both girls felt that now their troubles were over. All of a sudden, however, she stumbled over a great submerged stone and fell out flat on the water, face downward.
She had presence of mind to cling to the edge of the canoe with both hands, but Joan stopped paddling in consternation when she saw the accident. Instantly the craft caught in the swift current and shot ahead as an arrow from the bow. Julie floated out behind, on the water, at times completely covered with the swirling waves curled up by the sharp canoe.
At times she lifted her head up and tried to gasp. In one of these desperate efforts, she cried, “Paddle – paddle for the love of Mike!” then she was swept under again.
Before Joan got down to actual work again with the paddle, the canoe was running opposite the creek again, and all the gain the girls had made by wading upstream was lost. Julie was very cold by this time, and the water was so deep that she could not touch bottom, so she climbed back in the canoe.
During the help Joan had to give the half-fainting mariner, the canoe headed straight for a bend in the river. Where they would land neither scout could tell. It might be over the falls – it might be in a mud puddle.
“Can’t you stop it?” screamed Julie, hysterically. “We may run plumb into a cliff and smash to bits!”
As she spoke, she grabbed the paddle and worked with the strength that fear sometimes gives, so that she really poled the canoe across the creek to the shore where the water was quiet. But they were now on the far side of the current, in the creek that was hidden by the bluff they had passed. The distance from camp was too far for any one to hear them, even if they did shout. So they fastened the canoe and got out upon the bank.
“When Verny finds us gone, and one canoe missing, she will send the Indians out at once to hunt for us. Meantime, we may as well make a fire and get warm,” suggested Julie.
“Tally left a line and tackle in the bottom of the canoe,” announced Joan, remembering that she had caught her toe on a fish-hook when she climbed out.
“Oh, then we’re not so hard up, after all. We can catch a fish and broil it for lunch.”
“I’m fearfully hungry after all that work,” hinted Joan.
“Then you fish while I make fire with some rubbing-sticks. As soon as you land a fish, I’ll clean it with my scout knife and start broiling it. Better try upstream a ways, where the water is quiet,” said Julie.
The fire was soon blazing, and Joan managed to catch two goodly sized fish, so they ate them, and dried their uniforms at the fire at the same time. This done, they felt better. But no call from the rescuers the girls had expected, nor sign of them, came from the lake beyond the bluff.
“Jo, suppose we follow this creek a ways until we find a shallow place where we can ford. Then we can climb up to that knoll and signal with smokes.”
“We may get into all sorts of new trouble, Julie. I’d rather wait here for them.”
“I’ve got to get up and do something, Jo. I’ll go crazy sitting here waiting, with no sign from any one out there.”
“Why can’t we paddle the canoe up a ways. If we walk we may step on a rattler, or meet other dreadful things,” ventured Jo.
“All right, then. We’ll canoe upstream a ways. If it doesn’t look healthy yonder, we’ll come back. But should we find a trail we may as well follow it to the bluff,” returned Julie.
“Who’d make a trail in this wilderness!” scorned Joan.
“Don’t you suppose others have been in this beautiful spot? Others have seen that bluff and climbed it, too.”
So the scouts paddled the canoe upstream as far as it seemed advisable, and that is how they missed hearing the Indians, when they crossed the creek and called for the lost ones. Then the hunters paddled on downstream, searching ahead for a canoe that might be going straight for the great falls John knew to be a mile further down.
John and Omney were in the leading canoe, while the Captain and Tally were in the second canoe of the rescuing party. When no sign of the scouts was seen at the creek, John called back to Tally.
“Omney and me go on, you take lady to shore and wait on creek for me.”
Tally did not tell Mrs. Vernon that a dangerous waterfall was downstream, but he knew that was where John was going to hunt, so he landed his passenger on the far side of the creek, where they sat and waited for news. No one dreamed that the two girls would paddle up the creek and thus miss a chance of being helped. Nor did Tally find the ashes of the little campfire Julie had made to cook the fish and to dry themselves.
“I knew there would be a fine trail along here, somewhere, Jo!” exclaimed Julie, driving the canoe inshore and pointing exultantly at a distinct trail that ran up from the water’s edge.
“Oh, joy! It runs straight for the bluff, too!” cried Joan.
So they climbed this steep trail, which was so plainly worn that there was no need of blazes along the way. They climbed and climbed! Still they had not reached the top where they expected to find the knoll they originally started out for.
“Seems to me we have gone twice as far as ever that bluff was,” complained Joan.
“Places always seem close at hand when one is on the water,” commented Julie.
But they now found the trail descending, and shortly it went decidedly downhill, away from the lake. Both scouts looked at each other.
“There is no sense in going down, Julie!”
“Apparently not, Jo, but these trails wind awfully, you know; and maybe it is trying to avoid a gully or a cliff.”
So they kept on, hoping every moment for a sight of the bald place that had allured them from the camp on the safe and desirable meadow. After half an hour of this hiking they came out to an inland pond with canals cut in different directions.
“Why! it’s a beaver colony!” exclaimed Julie, pointing to the huts and dam, and they saw several beavers working in the aspens at the far side of the pond.
“I could eat one of those beavers – I’m so starved!” sighed Joan.
“Shall we follow that trail around the pond?” asked Julie.
“What for? We’re only going further away all the time.”
“Then we may as well go back to the creek and wait.”
“All this long walk for nothing!” grumbled Joan. But she followed Julie nevertheless, and when they reached the brook they had recently crossed, the girls found two trails leading to it.
“I only saw one before,” said Joan.
“Because we were on that one, – but which one was it?”
“Coming from the left, to be sure. Would we be coming from the interior?” asked Joan, impatiently.
So they took the lefthand trail, although they really had come up by the other one, which led from the creek where their canoe was waiting.
“Jo, I believe both those trails were worn by animals going to the creek,” ventured Julie, as the idea suddenly came to her.
“Well, you said tourists would surely visit here and leave a trail!” Joan returned, jeeringly.
For once Julie made no reply in self-justification. The two scouts kept on hiking until they were so fatigued that they both felt like crying.
“I hope we’re not lost,” whimpered Joan, wiping her eyes.
“Of course not! Folks are never lost unless they get into a panic of fear,” declared Julie, keeping up her own courage by trying to boost that of her companion.
Again the girls climbed and climbed, until presto! right in front and down far below, was the lovely lake! Oh, how beautiful it looked! They stood where they were for a few moments sighing in relief that now they were sure to be rescued. Then Julie frowned and looked at Joan.
“Jo, is there anything wrong with my eyes? I can’t see any meadow opposite us.”
“Neither can I! There’s a rocky pine-topped wall over there.”
“But there was a flat meadow where we camped, wasn’t there?” queried Julie.
“O Julie, you’re not going daffy, are you?” wailed Joan.
“Good gracious! Why do you ask such a thing! Was there a meadow over there?” screamed Julie, shaking Joan fearfully.
“I’ve heard that folks lose their minds when they’re lost in the wilderness,” cried Joan, forgetting to answer the all-important question about the meadow.
“Will you tell me what I want to know —was there a meadow?” yelled Julie, stamping her foot vehemently as she spoke.
She had been standing upon long wiry witch grass that had washed its blades downwards toward the lake, and having but little roothold in the thin layer of dried moss and top soil that was spread over the cliff, the sharp stamping of a scout heel loosened this slight attachment.
Then like a mirage in the desert, Joan beheld her friend vanish! Not swiftly and instantaneously, but slowly and surely, as the roots and matted surface reluctantly broke away because of Julie’s weight and downward gravity.
