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DOROTHY DALE'S CAMPING DAYS
by
MARGARET PENROSE
Author of "Dorothy Dale: a Girl of To-Day," "Dorothy Dale at Glenwood
School," "Dorothy Dale's Great Secret," "The Motor Girls," "The Motor
Girls at Lookout Beach," etc.
Illustrated
New York
Cupples & Leon Company
1911
[Illustration: She slid into the frail bark, and started off.]
+------------------------------------------------+
| BOOKS BY MARGARET PENROSE |
| |
| Cloth. Illustrated. |
| |
| THE DOROTHY DALE SERIES |
| |
| |
| DOROTHY DALE: A GIRL OF TO-DAY |
| DOROTHY DALE AT GLENWOOD SCHOOL |
| DOROTHY DALE'S GREAT SECRET |
| DOROTHY DALE AND HER CHUMS |
| DOROTHY DALE'S QUEER HOLIDAYS |
| DOROTHY DALE'S CAMPING DAYS |
| (Other volumes in preparation) |
| |
| * * * * * |
| |
| THE MOTOR GIRLS SERIES |
| |
| THE MOTOR GIRLS |
| Or A Mystery of the Road |
| THE MOTOR GIRLS ON A TOUR |
| Or Keeping a Strange Promise |
| THE MOTOR GIRLS AT LOOKOUT BEACH |
| Or In Quest of the Runaways |
| THE MOTOR GIRLS THROUGH NEW |
| ENGLAND. Or Held by the Gypsies |
| (Other volumes in preparation) |
| |
| _Cupples & Leon Co., Publishers, New York_ |
+------------------------------------------------+
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. OUT OF A HAYRICK
II. TAVIA GOES BO-PEEPING
III. THE DISASTROUS DRAG
IV. THE PREMATURE CAMP
V. THE SEARCH
VI. OFF FOR CAMP
VII. CAMP C.C.
VIII. THE WILD ANIMAL
IX. A STRANGE MEETING
X. THE DISAPPEARANCE OF TAVIA
XI. WHEN THE BOYS CAME
XII. THE EDGY-EDGE!
XIII. THE SAD AWAKENING
XIV. TAVIA'S MISTAKE
XV. WHEN THE TRAIN CAME IN
XVI. A HARROWING EXPERIENCE
XVII. STRANGER STILL
XVIII. MISTAKEN IDENTITY
XIX. CAMPING DAYS
XX. HAPLESS TAVIA
XXI. AT THE SANITARIUM
XXII. THE CLEW
XXIII. DOROTHY'S ESCAPE
XXIV. A LONELY RIDE
XXV. LOOKING FOR TAVIA
XXVI. DOROTHY'S SUCCESS
XXVII. ONE KIND OF CAMP
XXVIII. GOOD NEWS
XXIX. THE ROUND-UP--CONCLUSION
CHAPTER I
OUT OF A HAYRICK
"Oh, my!" exclaimed one girl.
"Oh, mine!" amended another.
"Oh, ours!" called out a third.
Then there was one awful bump, and the chorus was understood.
The old-style hay wagon, which was like a big crib, wobbled from side
to side. The young ladies followed its questionable example, and some
of them "sort of" lapped-over on the others.
"Dorothy Dale!" gasped one particularly sensitive member of the party,
"we thought when you vouched for this affair that it would turn out
all right!"
"But it hasn't turned out anything yet," replied Dorothy, "although we
all came pretty near it--that time."
She clasped her hand around one of the braces of the hayrick,
evidently determined that should she be "turned out" her arm would be
responsible.
"That's just like you, Nita Brant," declared Tavia Travers, the latter
really being manager of the occasion. "When I go to work, and hire a
car like this, and especially stipulate that the ride shall
be--rural--you kick on the bumps."
But scarcely had she uttered these words, when a "bump" came, with
neither time nor opportunity for Nita's "kick." In fact, it was
remarkable that the old hay wagon did not actually carry out its
threat, to roll over in the direction toward which it wobbled.
"If you young ladies care to ride any farther," called out a man from
the front of the wagon, "you better be still. I ain't put no corks in
the holes in the bottom of this autymobile."
He chuckled at his own joke. The holes were only too apparent to the
fair occupants of the hay wagon.
"Oh, it's all right, Sam," called back Tavia, "the only thin member of
the party, who might by any chance fall through a hole, is dying from
bumps, and we have a good hold on her. If you could see through the
hay you would behold the human chain in action," and she gave Nita
such a jerk that the latter declared the bumps were lovely, and
begged to be allowed to do her own experimenting with them.
"He laughs best who laughs least," misquoted Dorothy, as the wagon
continued to jog along. "I don't exactly like the--er--contour of the
hill we are approaching."
"Why, that's the real thing in hills," declared Tavia. "I planned this
road purposely to 'tobog' down that hill."
"I hope the old horses are hooked up securely," remarked Rose-Mary,
whom the girls called Cologne. "I don't mind making a hill, but I hate
to have the wagon make it in solo. I have had a try of that sort."
"Now say your prayers, Nita," ordered Tavia, "and don't forget to
repent for snibbying my chocolates."
"Oh!" screamed Edna Black, _alias_ Ned Ebony, "I do believe something
is going to happen!"
"Sure thing," continued Tavia, in her joking way. "Do you suppose the
girls from Glenwood ever go out without having 'something happen'?"
The old man was pulling at the reins, but his horses were starting to
slide.
"Watch that fellow waltz," remarked Tavia. "Now, wouldn't he be great
in a circus?"
The "waltzing horse" tried to sit down, but the farmer tugged at the
lines, and otherwise objected to such conduct, and the unfortunate
animal did its best to comply with the orders, which were now being
flung at him, not only from the driver but from the girls in the
wagon.
"Oh, hold them!" pleaded Nita.
"Let them run," suggested Tavia. "It will be over sooner!"
"Mercy!" exclaimed Dorothy, "there's a river!"
This remark was followed by a most significant pause. Evidently even
Tavia saw the danger now.
And the old horses were frightened as well, for they backed, side
stepped, and made every possible effort to avoid having the wagon, and
its precious load, overturned into the deep river at the very side of
the roadway.
"Don't yell so!" called Dorothy to the driver. "That won't help any
and it hurts our ears."
"Is there no brake?" wailed Nita.
"There is likely to be one soon," Tavia assured her.
The girls were becoming more and more alarmed, and only Tavia kept up
the jesting. The hill was very steep, the river fairly curled around
it, and the horses grew more nervous each moment, under the strain
that was being put upon them.
Deep in the bed of hay the girls from Glenwood School had ensconsed
themselves. The horses were now going at such a pace that it would be
rash to attempt to jump from the rick. Nita Brant actually made her
way forward, and had now fairly grasped the old driver about the neck.
She felt that he must know how to save himself, at least, and she
determined to "take chances" with him.
Tavia did deign to sit up and notice the rate of speed the old horses
had acquired. Her dark eyes shot glances of daring admiration, and she
reminded her companions that Roman chariot races were "not in it,"
just then.
Dorothy stood up bravely and agreed to call out, when they should be
too near the river.
Suddenly there was a crash, and then the horses bolted!
"Something snapped!" called Dorothy. "Something is broken!"
No need to announce this, for, with the ominous sound, one of the
horses broke from its traces, and the other was now dragging the old
wagon along by the straps that had withstood the jerks and plunges.
"Oh, we will be killed!" screamed Nita, "There's the river!"
The girls made ready to jump.
"Don't!" begged Dorothy. "You will be dragged along in this stuff. You
cannot jump through these braces."
Truly they were imprisoned by the uprights of the old-fashioned
hayrick! But if they could not jump what could they do? Each face
showed its panic of fear. If only the one remaining horse would break
loose, it might not be so dangerous to fall over in all that hay!
A shriek from Nita turned all eyes to her. "The man!" she screamed.
"He has fallen--under the wheels!"
By a single impulse Dorothy and Tavia grasped one of the rungs of the
rick, and they threw their full weight on it until it snapped--then
broke!
"Quick!" cried Dorothy. "Jump after me!"
Tavia needed no second invitation. In an instant she had followed
Dorothy Dale, and, as they landed in the dusty roadway, shaken up, but
not otherwise hurt, the runaway horse, freed from the interference of
its mate that had broken loose, continued to drag the hayrick toward
the dangerous river, which bubbled over the black and sharp rocks,
scarcely concealed by the foam that broke upon them.
"Oh, the girls! The girls in the wagon!" gasped Dorothy, and she
pressed bravely on, followed by Tavia.