CHAPTER XIV
A FALLING IN
"HOW'S the Sleeping Beauty this morning?" was Alec's salutation toBlue Bonnet, when he appeared early next day in advance of the otherpicnickers. Blue Bonnet asleep at her own party had been a spectaclehe would not soon forget; it was almost as funny as being absent fromher first tea, on that memorable day in Woodford.
"The Sleeping Beauty could find it in her heart to envy Rip VanWinkle; a nap like his is just what I crave. But no,--Sarah must needshave breakfast at cock-crow," Blue Bonnet complained.
"Why, Blue Bonnet, it was after eight o'clock when I called you,"returned Sarah in a grieved tone.
"Sarah didn't want breakfast mistaken for lunch again," said Amanda.
"My prophetic soul tells me that we are going to conduct ourselveslike a model Sunday-school class to-day," Blue Bonnet remarked.
"What makes you think so?" asked Amanda, in whom the memory ofyesterday's trials was still undimmed.
"'Well begun is half done,' you know. And this beginning isobnoxiously perfect." Blue Bonnet was wiping off the oil-cloth as shespoke; dishes were already washed, beds done, and all without a hitch.
"I hope our picnic won't prove to be of the Sunday-school variety,"said Kitty.
"I'm sure our Sunday-school picnics at home are always very nice,"Sarah said reprovingly.
"Every one to his taste!" was Kitty's airy rejoinder.
"You can make up your mind that this picnic won't be like any otheryou ever attended," Alec assured them. "Knight has a scheme up hissleeve that will bear watching. I wonder, Blue Bonnet, if Mrs. Clydewould mind letting us take coffee?"
Blue Bonnet reflected. "To-morrow is Sunday and we're privileged tohave it for breakfast. If we have it to-day instead I'm sure she won'tobject. What else shall we take?"
"Only some bread, some lump sugar and a tin of milk, please," saidAlec modestly.
Amanda gave a sudden exclamation of joy. "Then we won't be back tolunch,--oh, Blue Bonnet, that lets us out to-day!"
They fell upon each other rapturously.
"I think we are the ones who should rejoice," said Kitty; but herremark met with the silent scorn it deserved.
They mustered a troop of twelve, all mounted, for Knight's picnic.Riding by twos, they cantered decorously as long as the eyes of theirelders followed their course; but when a turn in the road freed themfrom observation, there was a spurring and an urging of the wiryponies, and away they went, recking little of the grade whether up ordown.
It became a game of follow-my-leader, with Knight and Blue Bonnetheading the procession and putting their horses through a performancethat would have lamed anything but a Western cow-pony. Knight finallyled the way to one of the "race-paths" that abound in the hillyregions of Texas, and there began a tournament that for years lived inSarah's memory as the most reckless exhibition of daring ever seenoutside a circus-ring.
"Who made this race-track?" she asked Knight in one of the infrequentpauses in the performance.
"Nature!" He laughed at the look of incredulity with which Sarah metthis assertion. In truth she had good reason to doubt his word; thesmooth broad road encircling the hill, a full quarter of a mile long,edged on either side by a dense growth of cedars, seemed unmistakablyto show the hand of man in its creation.
"It's the solemn truth I'm telling you," Knight insisted, "--I swearit by the mane of my milk-white steed!"
Sarah gave one glance at the dark yellow buckskin pony he rode, andthen clucked impatiently to Comanche. She objected to having her faithin people imposed upon.
Knight was still laughing when Blue Bonnet came up and challenged himto a race. "My reputation for truth-telling is forever lost inSenorita Blake's estimation," he told her.
"What do you think of Sarah, anyway?" It would be curious to know justhow a Western boy regarded Old Reliable.
"She's very nice," he said, with an utter absence of enthusiasm,"--but not exciting."
Blue Bonnet smiled. "And Kitty?" she continued. Perhaps it wasn'tpolite in a hostess to discuss her guests, but she just had to askthat.
"She's very pretty and vivacious," he replied with an increase ofwarmth. "She lacks only one thing to make her irresistible."
"And that?"
"Having been brought up in Texas!"
If Knight had expected a blush to follow his outspoken compliment hewas disappointed. Blue Bonnet's hearty laugh showed a very healthyabsence of self-consciousness in her make-up.
"My Aunt Lucinda thinks that is my very worst drawback," she declared;and then chirping to Firefly, she was off at a break-neck pace, hatbobbing, brown braid flying, her eyes alight with the excitement ofthe race.
"THEY ALL GATHERED GYPSY-FASHION ABOUT THE FIRE."]
The climax of the day was the gypsy picnic. When Blue Bonnet beheldthe camp-fire with the pail of coffee steaming away over the bed ofcoals, and saw the feast spread out informally on the ground, withwild grape leaves for plates, she gave an exclamation of delight.
"Isn't it heavenly?" she cried.
Alec laughed. "I believe, Blue Bonnet, that your idea of heaven is tolive in a wickiup and subsist on mustang grapes and wild berriesindefinitely,--now isn't it?"
"Exactly--except that I'd add some of the bacon Knight is preparing togive us. That's the way the cowboys cook it."
Knight had cut a dozen or more twigs having a forked branch at thetip; on the end of each he placed a slice of bacon and then handedaround the "forks" ceremoniously. "I'm not going to offer you anythingso dainty as toasted moonshine," he explained, "but it's a heap moresubstantial."
They all gathered gypsy-fashion about the fire, toasting the bacon andtheir faces impartially; then transferring the crisp curly brownstrips to the big slices of bread, devoured them with exclamations ofapproval that were most grateful to the arranger of the feast. Evencanned cream failed to detract from the flavor of the coffee, and theyconsumed great quantities of the fragrant beverage, even Sarahpartaking most intemperately.
Only a lot of ponies inured to the hardships of the round-up wouldhave remained patient through the frolics of that day, and some ofthese wiry ponies looked rather drooping when the picnickers turnedtowards camp.
Mrs. Clyde, who had been watching the road rather anxiously as theshadows began to lengthen, brightened at once when Blue Bonnet'scheery call sounded through the trees.
"Oh, Grandmother, we've had the most gorgeous time in the world!" BlueBonnet cried, as she flung herself out of the saddle. "Did you eversee such a beautifully mussed-up crowd in all your life?"
"If that is an evidence of a 'gorgeous time' you must certainly havehad one," Mrs. Clyde smiled as her glance travelled from one rumpledand spotted We are Seven to another.
"These are the only skirts we brought and mine is all spluttered upwith bacon," mourned Sarah.
"I think you will all have to go to bed while I wash them," the Senorasuggested laughingly.
"Grandmother, please don't let Sarah play upon your sympathies. Shedoesn't appreciate how becoming a little dirt is to her peculiar styleof beauty. She looks almost--human." The look of pained surprise Sarahturned on her sent Blue Bonnet off in a fit of merriment. "Oh, for apicture of that expression!" she cried. "And that reminds me,--I toldall the boys to be at the Spring in fifteen minutes. There is plentyof light for a snap-shot and I've just a few films left."
"Oh, Blue Bonnet, haven't you done enough tramping to-day?" hergrandmother exclaimed. "You ought to rest."
Blue Bonnet shook her head. "I can't rest till I get that picture. Iwant the boys and the We are Sevens on the little rustic bridge. Now,Sarah, don't you dare tidy up till I get you just as you are. I wantyou to pose as Terrible Tom the Texas Terror."
That Sarah had her own opinion as to who the Texas Terror might be wasshown by her expression as she relinquished her design of brushing herhair, and followed the other girls up the hill to the Big Spring.
The boys were already assembled and were now grouped on the bridge inattitudes mea
nt to be artistic and fetching.
The rustic bridge--rather more rustic than substantial--was suspendedjust over a pretty waterfall, which slipped down a smooth runway ofeight or ten feet into a pool all foam and spray; a charming spot fora group-picture. It required both skill and patience to get every oneposed and the camera focussed; Blue Bonnet had just completed thesepreliminaries, when Alec upset everything by insisting that he shouldbe the photographer and she a member of the group. The rest supportedhis contention that she should be in the picture, and in the argumentthat followed, the chances for any picture at all grew slim.
Just then Uncle Joe appeared, and was at once pressed into service.Blue Bonnet gave explicit directions as to the precise moment at whichthe bulb was to be pressed, and then proceeded to join the rest whowere in the agonies of trying to look pleasant.
"Do hurry, Blue Bonnet," urged Sarah nervously, "I can hear the bridgecreaking."
A roar of derision followed this declaration and some of the smallerboys began stamping on the old timbers for the sheer joy of seeingpoor Sarah quake. At the precise moment that Blue Bonnet stepped fromthe bank to her place by the rail, there was a loud report, followedby a scream.
Uncle Joe, looking up from the reflector, saw the bridge parted neatlyin the middle, and the entire party shooting the chutes in a mostinformal manner. By the time the first boy had finished the descent,Uncle Joe was in the water fishing out the gasping victims. The poolwas not deep, but the swift fall carried the smaller lads under thesurface, and they came up too dazed to see the hands held out to seizethem. Knight and Sandy found their feet at once, and with Uncle Joeformed a dam against which the others were caught like salmon in ariver-trap.
Sarah was fished up by her blond braids and came up gasping, "I toldyou so!" before she opened her eyes.
"That's about as busy a spell as I've had for some time," Uncle Joedeclared as he hauled out the last of the small boys and thenclambered up the steep bank.
"You showed great presence of mind, Uncle Joe--except for one thing,"said Blue Bonnet. "If you had just taken a snap-shot when the bridgebroke I'd be quite happy."
"And if a few of us had drowned while he was doing it--" Kitty beganironically.
"You'd have missed being in the picture, poor souls! Well, since we'reall alive, let's go break the news gently to the grown-ups." BlueBonnet looked around the drenched, shivering group and then burst intopeals of laughter.
In truth they were a sorry looking lot. Soaked to the skin, with hairand clothes dripping and bedraggled, they all looked at each other asif surprised and grieved to find themselves part of so undignified acompany.
Grandmother's expression when the We are Sevens hove into sight, sentBlue Bonnet off into another gale of merriment.
"We've been shooting the chutes, Grandmother," she said with dancingeyes.
"Without a boat," added Kitty.
It took Sarah to tell the story in all its harrowing details, and atits conclusion Mrs. Clyde looked sober.
"Were you really in danger?" she asked Blue Bonnet.
"Not a bit," Blue Bonnet declared. "Sarah was the only one who camenear drowning and that was because she _would_ talk under water."
Fifteen minutes later the little sheet-iron stove was red-hot, and ona hastily strung clothes-line about it hung an array of drippinggarments that almost hid it from view.
"There's one comfort about all this," said Kitty, "our skirts andmiddies have had a much-needed bath."
"I'm afraid they won't be very clean,--cold water won't take greaseout," said Sarah mournfully. "And I'd like to know--how are we goingto iron them?"
They were all sitting in a circle about a blazing bonfire of UncleJoe's building, with their streaming hair spread out to dry.Dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers had made it unnecessary to go tobed while their wardrobe hung on the line, and now that they were warmand comfortable, they were disposed to look on the adventure of theafternoon as more of a lark than a misfortune.
"Do you recall a prophecy you made this morning, Blue Bonnet?" askedKitty.
Blue Bonnet shook her head.
"Your 'prophetic soul' told you, if I remember rightly, that we weregoing to conduct ourselves like a model Sunday-school class to-day."
"Well, if anybody would promise me as much fun in Sunday-school asI've had this day, I'd never be absent or tardy!" laughed Blue Bonnet.
Sarah looked pained. "It's Sunday to-morrow," she remarked. "I wonderwhat Dr. Judson will take as the text of his sermon."
Blue Bonnet gave her a long, curious glance. "Do you really wonder,Sarah, about things like that?"
Sarah raised honest, serious eyes. "Why, of course, Blue Bonnet. Don'tyou?"
"No," she confessed, "but I do wonder--at you!"
As they sat silent for a moment about the blazing logs, Blue Bonnethad an inspiration.
"Grandmother," she asked abruptly, "are you very hungry?"
"Why--is it your turn to get dinner?" Mrs. Clyde smiled; she wasshaking the water from her granddaughter's long hair, and spreading itin the warm rays of the fire.
"No, Amanda and I were to get lunch. But are you?"
"Not at all. Mrs. Judson and I had an excellent dinner at noon."
"Well, I've a splendid idea. There are heaps of hot ashes down underthe logs. We can bury some potatoes there,--the cowboys cook them thatway and they are delicious. Then with some devilled-ham sandwiches wecould sit right here and eat, and have no tiresome dishes to wash upafterwards."
"Hear, hear!" cried Kitty and Debby.
"It's easy to see whose turn it is to wash dishes," laughed Amanda.
"It's right handsome of you, Blue Bonnet," Kitty remarked gratefully,"--especially when it wasn't your turn to officiate. I'll make thesandwiches and Debby--you get the potatoes."
That buffet supper was later pronounced the most successful meal everprepared in _Poco Tiempo_.
"This is truly Bohemian," remarked Mrs. Clyde, as with a newspaper forboth plate and napkin, she joined the group about the fire, "--muchmore so than the studio-luncheons they call Bohemian in Boston."
"Fancy anything trying to be Bohemian in Boston!" exclaimed BlueBonnet. "They haven't a thing in common."
"They both begin with a B," said Sarah.
The girls were too surprised to laugh.
"Is that a joke, Sarah?" asked Kitty in an awestruck tone.
"Of course not,--they do, don't they?" she returned.
As the girls collapsed at this, she looked up in puzzled surprise."I'd like to know what's so funny about that," she remarkedplaintively.
"There comes Mrs. Judson," exclaimed Debby.
There was a hasty wiping of blackened fingers on newspaper napkins asthe girls rose to greet this unexpected guest. The little figureapproaching them seemed slighter than ever, and the gingham dressfairly trailed over the long grass. The face was hidden in theinevitable sunbonnet.
"Hello, everybody, are you dry yet?" called a cheerful voice.
"Carita!" exclaimed Blue Bonnet. "We thought you were your mother."
Carita looked down at her loosely fitting garment and laughed. "I hadto wear this while my dress dried. Knight said I ought to hang out asign--'room to let.' Mother made me wear the sunbonnet because my hairis still wet. But I said I could dry it by your fire as well asanywhere else." She tossed away the cavernous bonnet and the chestnutlocks fell in a cloud about her shoulders. With her dark eyes and skinframed by the long straight hair she looked like a young Indian.
"Have a potato?" asked Blue Bonnet, spearing one with a stick andpresenting it to the guest.
"Thank you." Carita took it as if this were the usual fashion ofserving this vegetable, and ate it with the ease born of longexperience. Suddenly she gave an exclamation. "Oh, I nearly forgot.Alec sent over something. The boys couldn't come for they've nothingto wear but blankets--they're rolled up like a lot of mummies aroundthe fire. But Alec and Knight and Sandy have been writingsomething,--I think it's a letter."
"I
t's a poem!--oh, Blue Bonnet, you read it aloud." Kitty handed overthe verses and in the flickering light they gathered close about BlueBonnet as she read:
THE BRIDGE
"We stood on a bridge in Texas, Near a camp far, far from town; We stood there in broad daylight,-- 'Cause there wasn't room to sit down.
"We posed on that bridge so rustic, To be snapped by Uncle Joe, And we smiled and looked real pleasant, Yet one heart was filled with woe.
"For a stream, both swift and deadly, Flowed beneath the bridgelet there, And the creaking of the timbers Gave this timid maid a scare.
"As sweeping eddying 'neath us The deep, dark waters rolled, She could seem to see our finish-- Dashed beneath the waters cold.
"Yet the bridge still held, but trembled, --Gleamed the torrent chilly, vast,-- And the weight of one Blue Bonnet Broke the camel's back at last!"
"Who did it?" cried Blue Bonnet.
"All three helped," said Carita. "But I think Sandy did most."
"He must be cleverer than he looks," said Blue Bonnet.
"Why, don't you think he looks clever?" exclaimed Kitty, "I do."
"It wasn't clever of him to have sandy hair," Blue Bonnet declaredperversely.
"As if he could help it!" said Sarah.
"We must write a 'pome,' too," said Blue Bonnet.
"We?" exclaimed Debby. "I never found two words to rhyme in all mylife. You and Kitty are the only ones who ever 'drop into poetry.'"
"The muse must be partial to red hair," said Amanda. And though Kittysniffed insultedly at this insinuation, her bright head was soon bentover a pad beside Blue Bonnet's, and after much chewing of theirpencils and shrieks of laughter at impossible rhymes, the two of themfinally evolved the following:
WE ARE SEVEN
"You marvel that a simple band Of maidens, young and fair, Should linger ever on the land, Nor for the water care?
"If you should ask in dulcet tone Why for the earth they sigh, They'll weep, they'll shriek, they'll give a groan,-- But they will answer why.
"'Last night we were a happy bunch, Last night about eleven--' Quoth you--'But why this sorry lot? How many members have you got?' They'll answer--'We Are Seven.'
"'But seven are not all alive?' 'Yea, yea, thou trifling varlet, Though here we number only five,-- Two caught a fever scarlet.
"'And o'er us five whose courage great Brought us to far-off Texas, There seems to brood an awful fate, And trials sore to vex us.
"'To-day the bridge on which we stood And posed above the rippling wave, Alas! was made of rotten wood And plunged us in a watery grave.'
"'Then ye are dead! All five are dead! Their spirits are in heaven!' 'Tis throwing words away, for still These maidens five will have their will, And answer--'We Are Seven!'"
"I wonder what Mr. Wordsworth would say to that?" said Debby, whenthis effort had been heard and elaborately praised.
"He's dead," remarked Sarah. Then, ignoring Debby's snicker shecontinued: "It's very good, Blue Bonnet,--but you shouldn't have saidthat two had the scarlet fever. There's only one, really."
"Poetic license!" Kitty claimed fiercely.
"I think you are the cleverest girls I ever heard of!" Caritaexclaimed. "I'm going to run right over with that poem--I can't waitfor the boys to see it."
Snatching up her bonnet Carita ran back to the other camp; while thegirls, quite tired out by the excitement and varied adventures of theday, prepared to go to bed. As they neared the tents there came afamiliar sound from the direction of Camp Judson. It was the loudjangle of cowbells.
"Do you suppose those boys are going to eat at this time of night?"asked Sarah.
"Of course not, Sallykins," said Debby. "Don't you understand?--that'sthe boys applauding our poets!"