THEIR SLUMBERS DISTURBED
"All aboard for the High Sierras!" called Stacy Brown, swinging to his
saddle a few minutes later. The others, one by one, mounted and sat
awaiting the order to start.
Woo Smith had gone on ahead. Scorning the use of a pony to ride, he had
trotted on, shooing the pack-horses along, the departure of the
Overlanders having been deferred until about an hour after he had left
them. Woo said that he would make camp at a good place and have supper
ready upon their arrival.
The Overlanders finally started away, waving their hands to the curious
natives, and soon reached the trail that led towards the High Country.
The trail was an old one, but so seldom used that it could hardly be
dignified by the name of trail. Woo plainly was familiar with it, for he
had reached it by the most direct course, marking the beginning of it by
breaking over branches of bushes, a trick that he had learned from white
men with whom he had explored the mountains at some previous time.
Very good time was made that day, and when about eighteen miles from
Gardner they saw the smoke of Woo's camp-fire. Half an hour later they
reached it and found that the guide had selected an ideal camping place.
There was water and good feed for the horses. Woo already had turned out
the pack-horses, which were grazing out of sight of the camp, and the
cowbells on two of them could be heard tinkling in the distance.
"I reckon I drew a prize," declared Hippy pompously, referring to Woo.
"Time will tell," answered Emma Dean.
"I agree with you," answered Elfreda Briggs. "One shouldn't jump at
conclusions, as Grace Harlowe says."
Saddles were quickly removed, and, before doing anything else, the men
of the party washed the backs of the ponies to prevent the animals
becoming saddle-sore. By the time they had finished and turned out the
ponies to browse, the guide had supper ready for them. The air was hot
and motionless, for they were not yet high enough in the mountains to
catch the cool breezes from the snow-clad tops, and all felt the heat.
The Chinaman had prepared a supper that won golden words of praise from
the girls of the Overland party, and Stacy and Hippy ate until it seemed
as if they must pop open. The flapjacks fairly melted in the mouths of
the Riders and the coffee they pronounced to be delicious.
"Won't it be fine not to have to do any cooking on this trip?" smiled
Emma.
"Yes. I feel as if a great load had been lifted from my shoulders,"
agreed Stacy. "I did most of the cooking for our Pony Rider outfit.
Ordinarily I would rather cook than do most anything that I know of."
"I am sincerely glad that you are not cooking for this party," declared
Emma Dean with emphasis.
"You are congratulating yourselves too early," interjected Nora Wingate.
"We are all going to do work just as we always have done."
Grace and Elfreda agreed with her.
"You don't mean that we've got to get up in the dewy morning and rustle
grub for the outfit, do you?" demanded Chunky.
"Yes, of course," answered Grace.
"That is the fun of camping," said Miss Briggs. "We should soon forget
all we knew had we servants to do the work for us. He is an industrious
fellow, though, I must say," added Elfreda, glancing at Woo, who was
busily at work washing dishes and singing "Hi-lee, hi-lo!"
"He is a song-bird, too," observed Stacy.
"Woo, you must be saving of the provisions," called Grace. "Remember we
must make our supplies go a long way, for we shall not get any more for
some time."
"Don't wolly till to-mollow. Hi-lee, hi-lo; hi-lee, hi-lo!" sang the
guide.
"What's that he says?" demanded Tom Gray.
"He says, 'Don't worry until to-morrow,'" interpreted Emma.
"Ha, ha!" laughed Chunky, and the Overland Riders joined in the
laughter.
"You savvy plenty to-mollow. Me savvy glub to-mollow," added Woo,
chuckling to himself.
"He speaks hog Latin quite fluently, doesn't he?" observed Stacy
solemnly.
"You leave it to Smith. I found Smith, you know," reminded Hippy Wingate
pridefully.
"Hi-lee, hi-lo!" sang the Chinaman, continuing with his work, while the
Overlanders, having finished their supper, gathered about the campfire,
and forgot the heat of the California night in its cheerful glow. It
seemed good to them to be out in the open once more, to be where they
were obliged to depend almost wholly on their own resourcefulness for
their food and lodging, if not for their lives, for they were going into
perilous places, places fraught with dangers.
Woo, having completed his work, and having hung his frying-pans and
other equipment to nails driven in a tree, sat down on his haunches by
the fire, and, after composing himself, lost his long yellow fingers in
the mysterious depths of his wide-flowing sleeves.
"Me savvy plenty fine night," he observed, gazing blissfully up into the
sky. "You savvy plenty fine night, too?" he asked, looking soulfully at
Miss Briggs.
"I savvy the same as you do, Woo," replied Elfreda soberly. "It is going
to be a fine night for sleep, but I think the air will be cooler later
on."
Woo nodded wisely, and Stacy glanced up with quickened interest.
"Are we going to sleep on the ground?" he asked.
"Yes," answered Tom Gray. "You ought to be used to that."
"Are there snakes up here?" questioned the fat boy apprehensively.
"Me savvy plenty snake," the guide informed them.
"What kind?" wondered Emma.
"Lattlers."
"He means rattlers," interpreted Grace Harlowe.
"Oh, wow!" muttered the fat boy. "I think I'll climb a tree."
"You will take pot luck on the ground with the rest of us," answered Tom
rather severely.
"Me savvy lattler in blanket once," declared the guide. "Lattler sleep
plenty in blanket. Go away in molning. Lattler no hurt Chinaman,"
explained Woo.
Signs of uneasiness were observable among the girls of the Overland
party, and in Stacy Brown as well. Tom declared that Woo was "drawing
the long bow," and said that he never had heard anything of the sort
about the Sierra trails.
"I have," announced Hippy. "There are snakes all about here, but we are
not going to lose any sleep over it. Besides, Stacy is getting the
wiggles."
"Yes. For goodness sake, drop the subject. You folks give me the
willyjiggs," shivered Emma Dean.
"I'm not getting the wiggles," protested Stacy. "I reckon I'm not afraid
of anything that walks."
"We were not speaking of that kind," reminded Nora. "We were speaking of
reptiles."
"How long do you figure that it will take us to get into the High
Country?" asked Grace by way of changing the subject.
"Me savvy eight days," answered Woo. "You savvy mebby pony him no
climb?"
"Yes, they can, too," objected Stacy indignantly. "Our ponies can go
where a bird can. Don't you forget that."
"Me savvy plenty snake, too," added Woo.
"For goodness sake, stop that snake conversation," cried Emma. "I shall
surely dream about snakes if you go on that way."
Smith grinned happily, then proceeded, with the utmost composure, to
relate experiences with big rattlers in the Sierras. He told of waking
up in the morning and finding one coiled in his blanket, under his arm,
or, perhaps, nestled close to his neck for warmth from the chill night
air of the higher altitudes, until Stacy was on the verge of a panic,
and Emma Dean was shivering.
"Mr. Smith," she said, after regarding him inquiringly for some moments.
"Have you ever had any experience with transmigration of thought?" she
asked.
"Tlans--tlans--"
"Transmigration," assisted Hippy.
"Tlansmiglation! Les. Me savvy. Me savvy one time big hunter shoot one
in mountains. Woo savvy bad medicine and run away," chuckled the
Chinaman.
"I reckon that will be about all for you this evening, Emma," observed
Hippy Wingate, amid peals of laughter from the Overland girls.
Tom got out the bedding, consisting of a blanket apiece, and a tarpaulin
for a cover, while Woo busied himself with cutting browse which he
placed on the ground and laid blankets on it. It was not a particularly
soft bed at that. While they were preparing their beds, Stacy poked
about with a stick, covering a radius of several rods.
"What in the world are you doing?" demanded Nora Wingate.
"He is beating up the landscape to drive out the serpents," answered
Emma. "You are a tenderfoot, aren't you?"
"I don't like the fleas to get next to my skin," explained the fat boy
lamely. "They tell me that these California fleas are awful."
"Were I as tough as you, I do not believe I should worry about a little
thing like that," retorted Emma.
Stacy made no reply, but poked the fire savagely, then piled on more
wood, occupying all the time he could before preparing for bed, and the
others had turned in long before he was ready.
"Stop that fussing and come to bed!" ordered Hippy.
"Yes, for goodness sake, do," added Miss Briggs. "Woo Smith, aren't you
ready to turn in?"
"Les. Me savvy glub first."
"You might fetch Uncle Hip and myself a bite to eat while you are on the
food question," suggested Stacy.
"No food until breakfast," admonished Grace.
After idling about and grumbling for fifteen minutes more, Stacy finally
crawled in under the tarpaulin, uttering dismal groans and complaints
about the hardness of his bed. All were lying with feet towards the
fire. The smoke and the blaze drove away insects, and the warmth was
pleasant, even though the night was sultry, and it was not long after
that when the Overlanders dropped off to sleep.
Woo, chuckling to himself and muttering, crept cautiously to the men's
side of the fire, surveyed the layout, then crawled in under the
tarpaulin beside Stacy Brown. A few moments later, Hippy, who lay next
to Stacy, was aroused by the fat boy's mutterings. Stacy was dreaming
about snakes. Hippy knew because he heard his fat nephew say, "Snakes!"
"I'll teach that boy a lesson and make him dream of something worth
while," decided Hippy. Rising on one elbow, Lieutenant Wingate glanced
over the row of heads just visible above the top of the tarpaulin. He
could barely make out their features in the faint light, but when his
gaze finally came to rest on the face of the sleeping Chinaman, Hippy
Wingate was suddenly possessed of a brilliant idea. Woo lay flat on his
back, both hands snugly tucked into the wide-flowing sleeves.
"I have it," chuckled Hippy.
Reaching over Chunky very cautiously, he lifted the long black queue of
the guide, held it for a moment, then softly dropped it across the face
of the sleeping, snoring Stacy. Chunky muttered and stirred restlessly.
Hippy waited, then began slowly drawing the queue over Stacy's face.
The fat boy awakened suddenly, but he did not move at once, for he was
fairly paralyzed with terror. Something cold and soft was wriggling over
his face. Uttering a mighty yell, Stacy grabbed that wriggling queue, at
the same time giving it a tug.
It was now Woo Smith's turn to yell, and yell he did, as he struggled
and fought to free himself.
Stacy, hurling the thing from him, leaped to his feet, howling lustily.
He stepped on Woo and went over backwards, landing on Hippy's stomach,
struggling and fighting, and finally finishing up by fastening his
fingers in Tom Gray's hair.
The camp was instantly in an uproar, and none was more loud in his
protestations than Hippy Wingate himself.