GOING TO BED IN THE CLOUDS
"Oh, Hippy, you have done it this time!" cried Nora.
"Keep quiet! Don't frighten her!" cried Grace, snatching the lariat from
her saddle and handing it to Hippy. "Slip the loop over one of her hind
legs, but for goodness sake do not make any sudden moves."
"Wait! I'll get a derrick," shouted Stacy.
"Keep quiet!" commanded Tom sternly, at the same time taking a rope from
the pommel of his own saddle and hurrying to Lieutenant Wingate's
assistance. While Grace, was patting the head of the fallen animal,
trying to soothe her, Tom slipped the rope over her neck, Hippy having
dropped the loop over one hind foot.
"Oh, Tom, you surely will choke Kitty to death if you pull on the neck
rope," warned Grace.
"Serve her right if I did," growled Tom. "She is a perpetual nuisance.
What next, Lieutenant?"
"We must haul her up, that's all. Keep your rope taut, but don't put too
much strength on it," directed Hippy, as he began to pull on the rope
about the white mare's hind leg. He failed to budge her.
"It is the pack," said Elfreda. "Don't you see that Kitty's pack is
pressing right against the rocks?"
"That's right," agreed Tom Gray. "We must unload the beast before we can
do a thing with her. Confound her!"
"Now, Tom," admonished Grace Harlowe.
"Stacy! Get that pack off and be careful about it too," ordered
Lieutenant Wingate.
Stacy could not manage the pack alone, so Grace and Elfreda assisted him
in removing it. This undertaking, perilous as it was, was accomplished
after more than two hours had been lost through Kitty's clumsiness. It
was then discovered that the white mare had gone lame, but Hippy found
that she had suffered nothing more serious than a bruised hip.
"We must be on our way," he urged.
"As it is, we shall not get across this ridge before dark," declared
Elfreda, glancing at the lowering sun.
"Oh, don't say that," begged Nora. "We must."
Tom Gray shook his head.
"To make haste would be dangerous," he warned.
As soon as the white mare was again in proper shape the party started
ahead, determined to get as far on their way as possible before night,
but darkness was settling over the canyons on either side of them when
Lieutenant Wingate finally called a halt.
"We must make camp while we can see to do so," he directed.
"What, here?" cried Emma.
"It is the best we have," answered Lieutenant Wingate in a doubtful
tone.
The trail had been steadily narrowing as they proceeded, and ahead of
them it appeared to be almost impassable, at least for horses. It was
decided to stake the ponies down in single file, which the three men
finally succeeded in doing to their satisfaction. It was not an ideal
tethering place, but most of the animals were used to sleeping in
ticklish places, and, in fact, if necessary could sleep standing up.
Packs were removed and stored in safe places, but Woo, who had been sent
out to locate a spring, returned with the information that he could find
none. This, however, did not disturb the Overlanders, for their bottles
held sufficient water for supper and breakfast, provided they were
economical in its use, so a small cook-fire was built, and in a few
moments the kettle was singing merrily and the odors of coffee and
venison were in the air, to the accompaniment of Woo Smith's "Hi-lee,
hi-lo." It was an unusual supper for the Overland Riders, sitting there
with their food served on an army blanket laid on the ground, with empty
space and sombre canyons on either side of them now filled with inky
blackness.
While they were eating, Woo gathered stems of bushes and piled them
ready for making a larger fire to light up the camp after supper.
"I should like to know where we are going to sleep," reminded Nora as
they finished the meal.
Tom said he would make up their beds very shortly, whereat the
Overlanders laughed, but with not much mirth in their voices.
"If you don't make haste you won't be able to find beds to make up,"
averred Emma. "Don't you see the fog rolling in? We shall soon be
enveloped in it."
"Fog!" Hippy laughed heartily. "Why, child, that isn't fog--it is
clouds. We are above them, but I think they will rise and take us in.
When it gets a little darker here, you will see a sight that will
interest you."
Hippy's prediction was fulfilled. The moon rose full at about nine
o'clock that evening, and exclamations of wonder were uttered by the
girls of the party, as its beams lighted up the slowly moving clouds
that now had risen almost level with the top of the ridge itself. Here
and there sharp peaks thrust themselves through the cloud seas, which
were dark and menacing to the eyes of the observers.
"How beautiful," murmured Elfreda Briggs.
"It is indeed," breathed Grace. "The scene reminds me of the one that we
looked down upon when we were riding the Old Apache Trail, except that
this is infinitely more beautiful. Hippy, does not this remind you of
France, when you were flying above the clouds?"
"In a way, yes. Many is the time that I have gone to sleep on a cloud
for a few seconds. Tom, what is our altitude here?" he asked, turning to
his companion.
"According to my aneroid, about eight thousand feet."
"We are surely getting up in the world," chuckled Emma.
"Don't congratulate yourself too soon, Miss Dean. We may be going the
other way before morning," reminded Stacy Brown. "What about starting a
conflagration, Captain Gray?"
"Woo, stir up the campfire and let's have some light and warmth,"
directed Tom.
"Oh, it is too bad to destroy this wonderful view. If you build a fire
we shan't be able to see the full cloud effect," protested Grace.
"You will," answered Hippy. "We soon shall be enveloped in clouds, and
we are going to feel the cold, too."
There was a biting chill in the air already and, to the amazement of the
campers, mosquitoes were numerous and very active.
Tom, after a survey of their surroundings, said he would make up the
beds, and called to Woo to bring the pick-axe.
"Make up the beds with a pick?" exclaimed Emma.
"Yes. By the way, where do we sleep tonight?" asked Miss Briggs in a
slightly worried tone.
"I will show you," replied Tom, beginning to dig a trench in the thin
layer of soil that covered the ridge.
"If you can transmigrate a real bed, I wish you would make it two so
that I may have one," called Stacy.
Tom made no reply, but, after digging the trench, he had the guide and
Hippy place stones on either side of it as an added protection against
rolling out of bed.
"Stacy, get in here and see if this hole fits your ample proportions,"
directed Tom.
Stacy hesitated.
"I don't like to be buried so soon after supper," he complained. "Is
this some new game that you are trying to play on me?"
"Yes. It is a game to keep you from falling out of bed and making a mess
of yourself," replied Tom tersely.