To be awakened early in the morning by the songs of birds and
innumerable woodland sounds, and find one's self in the very center of a
forest, is no common experience. To the girls, as they looked up through
the leafy canopies, and then across the green aisles formed by trees
that looked as if they might have stood there since the beginning of
time--it was all very wonderful.
"How beautiful this is!" exclaimed each one, as she opened her eyes upon
the wooded scene.
"Girls," cried Ruth, "I wouldn't have missed this for worlds! No wonder
Zerlina hates to live in a house in the summer time. Isn't this fun?
Shall we go over there and wash our faces in that little brook!"
Off they scampered, a curious procession for the deep woods, each with a
burden of toilet articles, soaps and sponges, wash rags, mirrors and
brushes.
"Well," exclaimed Miss Sallie Stuart as she knelt beside the stream and
dipped her hands into its cool depths, "I never expected to come to
this; but it is very refreshing, nevertheless."
"This is Nature's bathtub, auntie, dear. We should be thankful to have
it so near. I suppose that is the reason the Gypsies chose this spot to
camp in," said Ruth.
"My dear child," replied her aunt, "I know very little about the Gypsy
race; but I do know one thing: that a Gypsy never took advantage of any
kind of a bathtub, wooden, tin, porcelain or Nature's."
The girls all laughed joyously.
The fright of the day before had not left a very deep impression. Sleep
and a feeling of safety had almost effaced it.
Presently they were back at the tent making tea and boiling eggs
supplied by Granny Ann from the Gypsy larder. Ruth wanted to build a
fire, but they decided that the ground was too dry to risk it. The
Gypsies had dug a small trench all around their camp fire. If they had
not, those splendid old woods would have been in serious danger of
burning, explained Barbara, who had been reading a great deal in the
papers about forest fires.
It was arranged, after breakfast, that one of the men should ride over
with a note to Major Ten Eyck's, asking the major to send for them at
once, and also to dispatch his chauffeur to mend the slashed tires.
The Gypsy camp had been astir long before the automobilists arose, and
the men were now sitting at their ease around the clearing, smoking
silently, while Granny Ann and two other women were moving about the
tents, "cleaning up," as Ruth expressed it.
"They have a lovely chance to learn housework," said Grace. "But they do
seem to air their bedclothes. Look at all those red comforts hanging on
the bushes."
"It's easier to air them than to make up the beds," observed Mollie.
"All you have to do in the morning, is to hang your blanket on a hickory
limb, and when you go to bed, snatch it off the limb and wrap up in it
for the night."
"Do you suppose they sleep in their clothes?" pondered Barbara.
"Why, of course they do," replied Ruth. "You don't for a moment imagine
they would ever go to the trouble of undressing, only to dress again in
the morning?"
"Girls, girls," remonstrated Miss Sallie, "we must not forget that we
are accepting their hospitality. Besides, here comes that young woman
with the voice."
"Let's take Zerlina as a guide, and go for a walk," cried Ruth. "I'm so
full of life and spirits this morning that I couldn't possibly sit down
like those lazy men over there, who seem to have nothing to do but smoke
and talk. Auntie, dear, will you go, or shall we fix you a comfortable
seat with the cushions under this tree and leave you to read your book?"
"I certainly have no idea of going for a walk," replied Miss Stuart,
"after what I've been through with these last two days. Nor do I want
you to go far, either, or I shall be terribly uneasy."
But Miss Sallie was not really uneasy. It was one of those enchanting
mornings when the mind is not troubled with unpleasant feelings. Perhaps
the Gypsies had bewitched her. At any rate she sat back comfortably
among the cushions and rugs, with her writing tablet, the new magazines
and the latest novel all close at hand, and watched the girls until they
disappeared down the leafy aisles of the forest. How charming their
voices sounded in the distance! How sweet was the sound of their young
laughter! Miss Stuart closed her eyes contentedly. The spell of the
place was upon her, and she fell asleep before she had opened a single
magazine or cut one leaf of the new novel.
In the meantime, the four girls, led by Zerlina and her dog, were
following the little stream in its capricious windings through the
forest.
A squirrel darted in front of them with a flash of gray and jumped to
the limb of a tree.
Zerlina made a sign for the girls to be silent. Then speaking to her dog
in her own language, he sat down immediately on his haunches and never
moved a muscle until she spoke to him again. She walked slowly toward
the tree, where the squirrel sat watching them uneasily. A few feet off
she paused and gave a shrill, peculiar whistle. The squirrel pricked up
his ears and cocked his head on one side. Zerlina whistled again and
held out her hand. The charm was complete. Down the limb he crept until
he reached the ground, paused again, surveyed the scene with his little
black eyes, and with one leap, settled himself on her shoulder.
"Oh!" cried the impulsive Ruth and the spell was broken.
Away scampered the frightened little animal.
"How wonderful!" exclaimed the others as they gathered around Zerlina,
who held herself with a sort of proud reserve as they plied her with
questions.
"It is because I have lived in the woods so much of the time," she
explained. "One makes friends with animals when one has no other
friends."
"Zerlina," said Ruth, "let me be your friend."
"Thank you," replied the girl simply, "but perhaps we shall not meet
again. You will be going away in a little while."
"You must come and sing for us at Major Ten Eyck's," said Ruth, "and
then we shall see if we cannot meet again."
They were walking in single file, now, along the stream. Mollie was
gathering ferns which grew in profusion on the bank. Barbara, who was
behind the others, had stopped to look at a bird's nest that had fallen
to the ground and shattered the little blue eggs it had held.
As she knelt on the ground, something impelled her to look over her
shoulder. At first Bab saw only the green depths of the forest, but in a
moment her eyes had found what had attracted them. Stifling a cry she
rose to her feet. What she had seen was gone in an instant, so quickly
that she wondered if she had not been dreaming. Peering at her through
the leaves of parted branches she had seen a face, a very strange, old
face, as white as death. It was the face of an old person, she felt
instinctively, but the eyes had something childlike in their expression
of wonder and surprise.
When it was gone, Barbara felt almost as if she had seen a ghost. She
leaned over and dipped her hands into the stream to quiet her throbbing
veins.
"Truly this wood is full of mysteries," she thought to herself as she
turned to follow the others. But she decided not to say anything about
it. They had had enough frights lately, and she was determined not to
add another to the list.
By this time the girls had reached a lovely little pool set like a
mirror in a mossy frame. On one side the bank had flattened out and was
carpeted with luxuriant, close-cropped grass, almost as smooth as the
lawn of a city park. The trees had crowded themselves to the very edge
of the greensward. They closed up on the strip of lawn like a wall and
stretched their branches over it, as if to shield it from the sun.
"Did you ever see anything so sweet in all your life?" cried Ruth, as
she flung herself on the turf.
"Never!" agreed the others with enthusiasm, following her example.
"This pool is supposed to be haunted," said Zerlina, and Bab started,
remembering the face she had just seen.
"Haunted by what, Zerlina?" she asked.
"It is not known," replied the Gypsy girl, mysteriously; "but on
moonlight nights some one is often seen sitting on this bank."
"What some one--a man or a woman?" persisted Bab.
"It is not known," repeated Zerlina. "But it has been seen,
nevertheless. Besides," she continued, "this is supposed to be the
meeting-place of fairies. Though people do not believe in fairies in
this country."
"I do," declared Mollie, and the other girls laughed light-heartedly.
"And," went on Zerlina, "the deer who live in this wood come here to
graze and drink water from the pool."
"Now, that I can believe," said Ruth.
"Well, it is an enchanted spot," cried Mollie. "It must be. Look at
Zerlina's dog."
The shepherd dog had taken his tail in his mouth and was circling
slowly. The girls watched him breathlessly as he turned faster and
faster. Once he fell into the stream, but he never stopped and continued
to circle so rapidly, as he clambered out, that he lost all sense of
direction and waltzed over the girls' laps, staining their dresses with
his wet feet, while they laughed until the tears rolled down their
cheeks, and the woods rang with the merry sound.
At a word from the Gypsy girl the dog stopped and stretched himself
exhausted, on the ground.
"Zerlina, you must have bewitched that animal," cried Ruth. "But wasn't
it beautiful? If we had been lying down he would have waltzed right over
our faces."
"Girls," proposed Grace, after they had recovered from the exhibition of
the waltzing dog, "let's go in wading."
"What a great idea, Grace!" cried Ruth. In a jiffy they had their shoes
and stockings piled together on the bank and had slipped into the little
pool of clear, running water.
Zerlina watched them from the bank. Perhaps Miss Sallie was right, and
water had no charms for this Gypsy child.
As they clung to each other, giving little shrieks of pleasure and
making a great splashing, Mollie exclaimed suddenly:
"Look, look! Here comes a man!"
Sure enough there was a man emerging from the trees on the other side of
the stream. The girls scampered excitedly out of the water, giggling, as
girls will do, and sat in a row on the bank, tailor-fashion, hiding
their wet feet under their skirts.
By this time the stranger had come up to the pool and stood gazing in
amazement at the party of young women.
"Well, for the love of Mike!" he exclaimed.
It was Jimmie Butler, one of the major's house party.
Then he caught sight of the pyramid of shoes and stockings; his face
broke into a smile and he laughed so contagiously that everybody joined
in. Once more the enchanted pool was given over to merriment.
"Where on earth did you come from?" demanded Ruth.
"And where have you been?" he echoed.
Whereupon everybody talked at once, until all the adventures had been
related.
"And you're actually alive, after all these hairbreadth escapes, and
able to amuse yourselves in this simple fashion?" gasped Jimmie Butler.
"Ladies, putting all joking aside, permit me to compliment you on your
amazing nerve. I don't think I ever met a really brave woman before, and
to be introduced to five at once! Why, I feel as if I were at a meeting
of suffragettes!"
"But how did you happen to be here?" repeated Ruth.
"Oh, I'm just out for a morning stroll," he replied. "I came to see the
haunted pool."
"Just take another little stroll, for five minutes, until we get on our
shoes and stockings. Then we'll all go back to our home of canvas," said
Ruth.
By the time they had reached the encampment Bab had almost forgotten
about the strange face she had seen, and they were all talking happily
together about Ten Eyck Hall, which, according to Jimmie Butler, was the
finest old house in that part of the country.
In the meantime the major himself had arrived in his automobile, while
the boys had ridden over on horseback. When the others came up, they
found the chauffeur busily engaged in repairing the tires of Ruth's
automobile. Miss Stuart and Major Ten Eyck were deep in conversation,
while the Gypsies stood about in groups, looking at the strangers
indifferently.
"Miss Ruth," said the major, after greetings had been exchanged, "if you
can run this machine, suppose we start at once and leave my chauffeur to
follow with yours. You ladies must be very hungry. We will have an early
luncheon."
The girls said good-bye to the Gypsies and thanked them graciously. Ruth
had tried to compensate Granny Ann, but the old woman had haughtily
refused to accept a cent.
"A Gypsy takes nothing from his guest," she said, and Ruth was obliged
to let the matter drop. However, she made the old Gypsy promise to bring
her granddaughter over to see them very soon, and as they disappeared
down the road, they saw Zerlina leaning against a tree, watching them
wistfully.
At last, the journey which had been so full of peril and adventure was
ended, and "The Automobile Girls" arrived safely at Ten Eyck Hall.