CHAPTER X
The Campers
Life began at the camp soon after 5 a.m., when the more energeticspirits tumbled off their hay sacks, flung on dressing-gowns, andscrambled for turns at the bath tent. Fetching water for the day wasthe first business of the morning, and those on bucket duty trottedoff to the stream, two fields away, joking and making fun as theywent, but returning more soberly with the heavy pails. The 6.15breakfast tasted delicious after their early outing, and most of theworkers seemed in good spirits. By seven o'clock the whole party weredown in the gardens. The Marlowe Grange girls had never seenstrawberries by the acre before, and they were amazed, almost daunted,at the sight of the vast quantity of fruit that must be gathered. Theywere told off to a certain portion of the field, given baskets, andshown where to bring them when full. Each novice, for the first day,was expected to work near an experienced hand, who could show her whatwas required, as the picking, though quick, must be careful, so as notto bruise the strawberries. Raymonde and Morvyth found themselvesunder the wing of a Social Settlement secretary, a business-like damewho had picked the previous summer, and understood the swiftestmethods. Close by, they could hear Miss Gibbs being instructed by thelady journalist, with whom she had apparently cemented a friendship.
It was a point of honour to fill the baskets with the utmost possiblespeed, and everybody worked steadily. There was no rule against eatingthe fruit, but the pay was according to the number of baskets handedin, so that shirkers would find themselves unable to earn their keep.It was a rather back-breaking employment, but otherwise pleasant, forthe day was fine, the larks were singing, and wild roses andhoneysuckle bloomed in the hedgerows. The slum pickers at the otherside of the field toiled away with practised fingers. Many of themcame every year, and would return in September for the hop harvest.The small children played under the hedge and took charge of thebabies, who cried and slept alternately, poor little souls! withoutreceiving much attention from the hardworking mothers.
The slum contingent was a subject of much amusement and curiosity tothe Marlowe Grange platoon. Though they occupied different portions ofthe field, they would meet when they went to deliver baskets. Therollicking good nature and repartees of some of these people,especially of the gipsies, were often very funny. They would chaff theagent who registered their scores, with a considerable power ofhumour, and the Grange girls, waiting in line for their turns, wouldchuckle as they overheard the conversations.
At eleven everybody ate lunch which they had brought with them, thenworked till one, when they returned to the camp for dinner. Pickingwent on again from two till six, with an interval at four o'clock fortea, which was brought down to the gardens in large cans, and pouredinto the workers' own mugs. It was almost the most acceptable meal ofthe day, taken sitting under the hedge, with the scent of roses in theair, and the summer sunshine falling across the fields.
By the end of the first evening, the Grange girls decided that, thoughthey wished they had cast-iron backs, the experience on the whole wasgreat fun. They liked the camp life, and even their hay-sack beds.
"I vote we don't sleep with our heads to the tent-pole to-night,though," said Raymonde. "You flung out your arms, Morvyth, and gave mesuch a whack across the face! I wonder I haven't a black eye. Let'sturn the other way, with our feet to the pole."
"Right you are! I'm so sleepy, I don't mind which end up I am, if Ican only shut my eyes!" conceded Katherine, yawning lustily.
"I shan't need rocking, either," agreed Morvyth.
Perched on her hay-bag, Raymonde was very soon in the land of Nod. Shewas dreaming a confused jumble about Miss Gibbs and gipsies andstrawberries, when she suddenly awoke with a strong impression thatsomeone was pulling her hair. She sat up, feeling rather scared. Thetent was perfectly quiet. The other girls lay asleep, each on her ownsack with her feet to the central pole.
"I must have dreamt it!" thought Raymonde, settling down again.
She had scarcely closed her eyes, however, before she heard a curiousnoise in the vicinity of her ear, and something unmistakably gave herplait a violent wrench. She started up with a yell, in time to see anenormous head withdraw itself from the tent door. A clatter of hoofsfollowed.
"What's the matter?" cried the girls, waking at the disturbance; and"What is it?" exclaimed Miss Gibbs, aroused also, and hurrying in fromthe next-door tent. But Raymonde was laughing.
"I've had the fright of my life!" she announced. "I thought a bogy ora kelpie was devouring me, but it was only Dandy, the old pony. Hestuck his head round the tent door, and mistook my hair for a mouthfulof grass, the wretch!"
"I've seen him feeding near the tents before," said Valentine."There's some particular sort of grass here that he specially likes.It's rather the limit, though, to have him coming inside!"
"He oughtn't to be allowed in this field at night," declared MissGibbs. "I shall speak to Mr. Cox, and ask to have him put in anotherpasture. We can't close our tent doors, or we should be suffocated. Ihope we shan't have any other nocturnal visitors! It's a good thing wehave no valuables with us. I don't trust those gipsies."
Miss Gibbs's fears turned out to be only too well founded, for, on themorning but one following, there was a hue and cry in the camp. Thelarder had been raided during the night, and all the provisionsstolen. The canteen matron and the cook were in despair, as nothingwas left for breakfast, and the workers would have gone hungry, hadnot a deputation of them visited the farm, and begged sufficientbread and jam to provide a meal.
"A lovely ham gone, and four pounds of butter, and a joint of coldbeef, and all the bread!" mourned the distracted matron. "I shall haveto go in to Ledcombe again this morning for fresh supplies, and Ibelieve Mr. Cox wants the pony himself."
"We ought to be able to track the thieves," said Miss Gibbs firmly."There should be an inspection at lunch-time, and anyone seen eatingham should be under suspicion."
"They'd be far too clever to eat it publicly," objected Miss Hoyle,the lady journalist. "Gipsies are an uncommonly tricky set. Theyprobably had a midnight feast, and finished the last crumb of ourprovisions before daybreak. We shall get no satisfaction from Mr. Cox.He'll say he's not responsible."
"Then we must take precautions that it doesn't happen again," decreedMiss Gibbs. "Isn't it possible to procure a lock-up meat safe? I neverheard of a camp being without one."
"Perhaps you haven't had much experience," remarked the canteen matronicily. She thought Miss Gibbs "bossy" and interfering, and consideredthat she knew her own business best, without suggestions fromoutsiders.
The Grange girls chuckled inwardly to hear their teacher thus snubbed.They hoped a retort and even a wrangle might follow; but Miss Gibbshad too much common sense, and, restraining herself, stalked away withas unconcerned an aspect as possible.
"Look here, old sport!" whispered Raymonde to Morvyth, "somebody oughtto take this matter up. I consider it's a job for us. Let's watchto-night, and see if we can't catch the prowling sneaks. Are yougame?"
"Rather! It's a blossomy idea, only don't let Gibbie get wind of it."
"Do I ever go and tell Gibbie my jinky little plans? It's not thischild's usual way of proceeding."
Raymonde and Morvyth had intended to run this little expedition "ontheir own," but in the end they were obliged to let the rest of thetent into the secret, as it was impossible to go to bed fully dressedwithout exciting comment. Their comrades refused to be left out, so itwas decided that all six, under Raymonde's leadership, should mountguard over the larder. They drew their blankets up to their noses, andpretended to be very sleepy when Miss Gibbs came to take a last lookat them before retiring. Apparently she noticed nothing unusual, forshe only glanced quickly round, and went softly away. Theself-constituted sentries allowed nearly an hour to pass before theydared to venture forth. Until that time the camp was not really quiet.The university students were a lively set, apt to keep up their funlate, and the secondary school girls often talked persistently, to theannoyance of their neigh
bours. At last, however, all lights were out,and a profound silence reigned. Not even an owl hooted to-night, and,as Dandy had been banished from the field, even his crunching of thegrass was absent. Raymonde crept from her blankets and listened. Hercompanions, to judge from their breathing, were sound asleep. Shefelt much tempted to awaken only Morvyth, but she knew that if sheomitted to call the others, their reproaches next morning would be toounbearable. So she roused the five. Taking torchlights, ready but notswitched on, they stole from the tent towards the scene of action.
The larder was only a portion of the marquee curtained off, so it wasreally an easy prey for marauders. The girls could not quite decidewhere would be their best post for sentry duty; whether to disposethemselves in positions outside, or to keep guard within the tent. Asit was rather a cold night, they plumped for the latter. Cautiously asIndians on the war trail, they crept across the marquee towards thefarther corner where the stores were kept. Raymonde, as leader, wentfirst, with her body-guard in close attendance behind her. Very, verygently she drew back the curtains and entered the larder. It waspitch-dark in here, and she began to grope her way along the wall.Then she stopped, for in front of her she fancied she heard breathing.She listened--all was silent. She started again, intending to go tothe far side of the table. She put out her hand to guide herself, andcame in contact with something warm and soft, like human flesh. Inspite of herself she could not suppress an exclamation. It was toohorrible, actually to touch a burglar! She had not bargained to findone already in possession of the larder. Instantly the girls behindher flashed on their torchlights, and the little sentry party foundthemselves confronted with--Miss Gibbs!
Yes, it was Miss Gibbs, crouching down near the table with MissHoyle, the lady journalist, close to her, both looking verydetermined, and ready to tackle any number of gipsy thieves. Theastonishment was mutual.
"What are you doing here, girls?" asked Miss Gibbs sharply, theschoolmistress in her rising to the surface.
"Only trying to guard the larder!" faltered Raymonde.
"That's just what we're doing," explained Miss Hoyle.
At that moment the matron put in an appearance. She also had been onthe qui vive in defence of her stores, and hearing voices, was sureshe had trapped the thieves. She had already passed on the alarm, andin a few moments, acting on a preconcerted signal, Mr. Cox and severalof the farm hands burst upon the scene, ready to knock down and secureintruders. Explanations naturally followed. It seemed that nearlyeveryone in the camp had private and separately arranged watchparties, each unconscious of the others' vigilance, and that all hadmistaken their neighbours for burglars. No one quite knew at firstwhether to be annoyed or amused, but in the end humour won, and ageneral laugh ensued. As nobody felt disposed to spend the whole nighton sentry duty, the matter was settled by Miss Corley and Miss Hoyleproposing to bring their beds and sleep in the marquee for thefuture.
"I wake easily, so I should hear the very faintest footstep, I'msure," said Miss Hoyle. "I'm going to keep a revolver under my pillow,too, and I hope you'll spread that information all over the gardens,and add that I'm accustomed to use it, and would as soon shoot a manas look at him."
Whether through fear of Miss Hoyle's bloodthirsty intentions, or witha shrewd suspicion that Mr. Cox was on the watch, the marauders didnot repeat their midnight visit, and left the camp in peace. MissHoyle seemed almost disappointed. Being a journalist, she had perhapshoped to make copy of the adventure, and write a sparkling column forher newspaper. The Grange girls decided that it was not the revolver,but the dread of Miss Gibbs which had scared away the gipsies.
"They've seen her in the fields, you know, and I should think one lookwould be enough," said Morvyth. "She has a 'Come here, my good man,and let me argue the matter out with you' expression on her face thislast day or two that should daunt the most foolhardy. If she caught aburglar she'd certainly sit him down and rub social reform andpolitical economy into him before she let him go!"