CHAPTER IX

  SPIRIT OF THE FOREST

  "It is perfectly incredible!" exclaimed Miss Sallie.

  She and Bab were discussing Mollie's adventure the next morning atbreakfast.

  "The more I try to reason out the whole thing, the more in the dark Iam," Bab answered.

  "Have you talked with Mollie?" Miss Sallie inquired.

  Bab nodded, and replied thoughtfully: "The truth of the matter is, Mollieknows less on the subject than the rest of us. All that she can tell isthat she was sitting quietly at the bottom of the ravine, when suddenly ashower of leaves fell over her head, and she heard the noise of feetrunning along the bank above her. Determined to discover what hadstartled her, Mollie climbed up the ravine and kept on with her pursuituntil she was completely lost. She must have wandered around all day.Finally she was so tired she sat down to rest. When she awoke Ruth and Ihad found her."

  "But Grace's sweater! Where did it come from?" asked Miss Sallie weakly.

  Ceally who entered the room at this moment, with her arms full of logsfor the fire, caught the end of the conversation. She looked about hercautiously. Naki, her husband, was some distance away, cutting down theunderbrush which was growing too high near their cabin.

  "Miss," whispered Ceally cautiously, "they do say there is a ghost up onthat mountain. It must have been a ghost that led Miss Mollie on thatlost trail. Once you strike that trail, there ain't no way of findingyour way back again, unless you follow some such clue as Miss Ruth's bitsof paper."

  "Ghosts! Utter nonsense, Ceally!" scolded Miss Sallie. But under herbreath she confessed to herself: "If anything in this world could bringme to believe in ghosts it would be this mysterious occurrence."

  Ruth flew in at the door.

  "Aunt Sallie," she cried, "here is a man on horseback, with a note fromMr. Latham. He wants us to come down and spend the afternoon with him. Hesays he will send for us in a carriage that can come almost all the wayup the hill, so we need only walk a little way. Do let's go! Want to,Bab?" Ruth finished.

  Miss Sallie looked dubious. "It is a good deal of a task, child, to godown this hill, except when we mean to stay down," she protested.

  "Oh, no, Aunt Sallie!" Ruth begged. "You know Naki goes down the hillevery day, on some errand or other. I have been to Lenox twice myself andto Pittsfield once. I won't give you and Bab these letters, unless youpromise to accept. One is for Bab, from her mother; the other is for you,from father."

  Miss Stuart was reading Mr. Latham's note.

  "My sister-in-law is with me," it read. "She joins her entreaties toReginald's and mine to beg our hillside fairies to come down to the earthand have afternoon tea with us. We are to have no other guests, except afew young people whom I am sure your girls will like to meet. Later on,when you condescend to spend a few weeks in Lenox, it may be a pleasurefor you to know them. Certainly it will be a pleasure for them to knowyou."

  "The man is waiting outside for your answer," proclaimed Ruth, dancingfirst on one foot and then on the other. "Here are pen and paper. Dowrite and let me take the note out to him."

  Miss Stuart allowed herself to be persuaded into accepting Mr. Latham'sinvitation. Life on the hill was growing a bit dull for Miss Sallie. Shedreaded the long trip, but Mr. Latham's place lay between their hill andthe town of Lenox.

  Mollie came into the room as Ruth ran out to deliver the note ofacceptance. "Who is out there?" she inquired languidly. The little girlwas not yet rested from her experience of the day before.

  "We are invited to the Latham place this afternoon, Molliekins!" Babexplained.

  "Are you going, Miss Sallie?" Mollie asked.

  Miss Stuart nodded. "Yes, I think so, child," she declared. "It is adreadfully long journey, but Ruth is determined to go, and I am as wax inher hands."

  "Aunt Sallie Stuart, you are no such thing!" Ruth laughed, as shereturned to the little group. "I am the most obedient niece in the world.You know you liked Mr. Latham. And he has a marvelous place, with awonderful fish pond on it. From his veranda he says you can see over intofour states, New York, Connecticut, Massachusetts and Vermont!"

  "Well, girls, we will start promptly after an early lunch," Miss Stuartremarked.

  "Miss Sallie," interrupted Mollie gently, "remember I am in the guardhouse for the next twenty-four hours. I broke all camp regulations bybeing lost yesterday. So I can't go with the party to Mr. Latham's."

  "Nonsense, Mollie!" said Miss Stuart kindly. "I was only joking when Ithreatened to establish military discipline in my camp. Besides, if youwere disobedient, you were well enough punished for it. Don't you wish tocome with us?"

  Mollie shook her head. "If you don't mind, Miss Sallie, I would rathernot," she replied. "I am a little tired and I would rather stay quietlyup here. You can count on my promise this time. I won't go more than ayard from the cabin. Naki and Ceally will both be here to look after me."

  "I will stay with Mollie," spoke up Bab. "I prefer not to leave heralone."

  Mollie protested energetically. "Bab, you must not stay behind with me.If you insist on doing it, I shall go with you, no matter how tired Ifeel. You know you are the one original lady rescuer of an airship yet onrecord! I was only the legs of the rescue, as I ran after Naki andCeally. You were the brains of the whole business. Besides, you know youare simply dying to see Reginald Latham's airship models, as well astheir beautiful house and grounds. Make her go, Miss Sallie!" Mollieended.

  "I see no reason, Bab, why you shouldn't accompany us." Miss Salliedeclared. "Naki and Ceally will look after Mollie, and an afternoon'srest will be much better for the child than a long, fatiguing excursion."

  Mollie walked to the edge of the hill to see Miss Sallie and her chargesstart off on their excursion to Mr. Latham's. Then she thankfully crepthome to the little cabin and stretched herself out on her cot, with theeider down comfort drawn up to her head. The child, who was not sovigorous as Bab, was worn out from her fright and exposure. An hour latershe awakened, feeling bright and rested as though she had never been lostin a strange woods.

  It was a lovely, bright afternoon. Mollie could hear the leaves rustlingoutside, as the wind stirred them and they fluttered to the ground. Thelittle girl had read that a swan sings a wonderful song just as he isabout to die. She walked out on the porch with an odd fancy in her head.She stopped and listened again to the sound the autumn leaves made, asthey swirled from the trees to the earth.

  "I believe," Mollie smiled to herself, "that the autumn leaves sing theirswan song, too." She pointed to a beautiful, golden maple leaf, that wasfluttering in the air. "See, there is a leaf! It is singing its good-byesong to the tree, which has borne it all summer! The little leaf istraveling to an unknown land down under the ground."

  Mollie laughed at her own idea. It was difficult for her to keep her eyesturned away from her ravine. She glanced up the hill. Surely she saw afigure moving there. It was a slight young creature, no larger thanMollie herself. Was it a boy or girl? It was impossible to tell, thoughthe figure was drawing toward her.

  The little girl watched with fascinated eyes. Down the ravine crept athin, brown body. Now it looked this way, then that. Hardly touching theearth, it flew from one high rock to the other. Then it dipped into thehollow between the two hills and was gone.

  This time Mollie did not stir from her veranda, but through her brainflashed the thought--the ghost at last!

  In another moment she saw a black head rise up on a level with her eyes.Mollie gave a gasp of surprise, then was silent. A thin, brown creaturemoved softly toward her on velvet feet. Mollie hardly breathed. Never inher life had she beheld so odd, so exquisite a figure.

  A girl about her own age stood before her. Her hair hung over hershoulders, black and straight. Her cheeks were a deep carmine. Hercomplexion was too dark to be olive, yet it was neither brown nor red.She was dressed in a thin, soft garment that fitted her closely from herbare neck to her ankles. Around her waist she had knotted a crimsonscarf. On her head she
wore a fantastic wreath of scarlet autumn leaves.

  The newcomer stared at Mollie. Once, like a startled fawn, she turned toflee. But Mollie was too wise to speak or to move. Reassured, the quaintvisitor drew nearer.

  Mollie smiled at her quietly. "Are you afraid of me?" she asked gently."Come here, I shall not hurt you."

  Suddenly the stranger's dark, sad little face burst into a smile. "I amnot afraid," she insisted. "I am never afraid. But is it well with you?"She spoke English, but with a strange guttural note Mollie had neverheard before.

  "Why should it not be well with me?" asked Mollie in surprise.

  "Because," the wood sprite answered, "you were lost yesterday in thehills."

  "How did you know?" Mollie demanded.

  "How did I know?" The girl lifted her head proudly. "I know all thingsthat take place in the woods," she replied. "The woods are my home."

  Mollie looked thoughtful; then she spoke in a firm voice: "You know forother reasons, as well. You know I was lost because you led me awayyesterday."

  The girl's brown face crimsoned, her eyes flashed. Then she lifted herhead proudly. "I led you nowhere!" she declared. "You would follow me. Noone can run as I do, or capture me when they hunt."

  "Who are you?" Mollie asked her.

  "I am nobody," the young girl replied. It seemed to Mollie she spokesadly. But she dropped down on the steps of the porch and waited untilMollie joined her there.

  Mollie put out her own soft, white hand and took the other girl's brownfingers in her own. The hands were slender and long, with hard musclestrained to the work of the woods.

  "Well," said Mollie gently, "if I _would_ follow you, perhaps my gettinglost was my own fault. But was it quite fair of you to come each morningto our windows, and then fly away again before anyone could see you?"Mollie was only guessing at this; but it was easy to see her guess hadstruck home.

  Her visitor turned a deeper crimson and dropped her eyes.

  "I am sure you meant no harm by your morning calls," continued Molliesmilingly. "But, if you didn't lead me away into the woods, there is onething I feel very sure of; you did show my friends how to find me."

  "Hush, hush!" cried the wood nymph, rising to her feet and looking aroundin terror, her slender body poised for flight. "Promise me," she pleaded,"that you will not tell you have seen me, nor that I ever came here toyou." The girl dropped on her knees at Mollie's feet. "I am an Indiangirl," she explained. "I live on Lost Man's Mountain, but I know no one,and no one knows me. Only Naki your guide has seen me. But he, too, hasIndian blood. He will not betray me. My name is Eunice. I have no othername."

  "But you cannot live alone," Mollie protested.

  The Indian girl shook her head without answering. "If I tell you," sheimplored, "will you promise me by the stars never to betray me? Promise,promise, or I shall disappear and you will see me never again."

  "Oh," Mollie answered thoughtlessly, "I promise."

  A swift change swept over the Indian girl's face. She leaned confidinglytoward Mollie, who realized for the first time what her promise meant.She was already dying to tell Bab and the other girls of her afternoon'sexperience, but she vowed to herself to keep the child's secret.

  "I do not live alone," Eunice declared. "I have a grandmother, who is anold, old Indian woman. Our hut is far back in the hills. All day I havewatched and waited by your cabin, until the others went away. I wanted tosee that all was right with you. I trust you with my secret. Now, I mustbe far away."

  "But won't you come again, Eunice?" begged Mollie. "Why not come and seeall of us? We are only other girls like you. My sister and her friendshave only gone away for a visit to the Lathams'."

  Eunice started and shook her black hair. "Latham! You must not speak thename to me!" she cried fiercely. "My grandmother says it is an evil name,and will work harm to me."

  Mollie laughed at her. "The name of Latham is nothing to you, Eunice,"she protested. "But won't you let me thank you for leading my sister tome? You must have been the will-o'-the-wisp with the dark lantern. Youmust have made the fire, and--and--you must even have put Grace's sweaterover my shoulders as I lay asleep. You are my ghost!"

  The Indian girl drew herself up proudly, but her dark face turnedcuriously white. "Yes," she muttered, "I took the red cloak away. Mygrandmother says that I stole it, and Indians of royal blood do notsteal. I am no ghost, I am a princess!" Eunice looked at Mollie withhaughty grace.

  "I did not know I was stealing," she insisted. "I saw the soft, redthing. I did not think. I love the scarlet colors in the world." Shetouched the crimson leaves in her hair. "When I found that I had stolen Imeant to bring the cloak back. Then I saw you asleep in the woods. Youlooked so cold and white that I put the cloak over your shoulders to keepyou warm. Now you have your own again."

  "But, Eunice," Mollie inquired, more and more puzzled by the girl'sappearance and conversation, "are you a pure-blooded Indian? You do notlook like one. Your eyes are as big and brown as my sister Bab's, only alittle darker. And your features are so fine and pretty. Then you speaksuch good English and your name is Eunice. Have you ever been to school?"

  Eunice shook her head. "A long time a woman stayed in the tent with mygrandmother and me. She taught me to speak and to read books. She comesagain each winter with the snows. My teacher is part Indian and partwhite. My grandmother says that an Indian princess must know, these days,all that the white race knows, and she must have the knowledge of her ownpeople as well. But I go now. You will not tell you have seen me. Then,some day when you are alone, I may return."

  "Wait a second, Eunice?" begged Mollie and disappeared inside theircabin. She came out with a lovely red silk scarf in her hand. "Take this,Eunice, it is for you!" she explained.

  Eunice shook her head. "An Indian princess does not accept gifts," shedemurred.

  "Oh," laughed Mollie, throwing her gift over Eunice's brown shoulder,"you are a proud little goose! I am sure it is a small enough gift. Iwant to thank you for the service you did for me in the woods."

  Ceally was stirring about in the kitchen. Like a flash the Indian girlwas gone. Mollie sat on the veranda steps rubbing her eyes. Had hervisitor been a real girl, or was Mollie bewitched by a brown elf?