certainly glad you brought us along to your party. Girls, I’ll race you
to that oak tree!”
The girls, each one, had intended to suggest eating lunch the very
first minute they got out of the car; but they couldn’t let a
challenge like that go by. Off they raced, Alice leading easily as they
neared the great tree which was the goal.
“Let’s give her a handicap,” Mrs. Merrill said, as they measured up how
very much Alice had beaten; “she’s so old she needs one.” So they made
Alice stand five feet behind as they raced back and then the race came
out exactly a tie.
“I say the winners get a luncheon for a prize,” suggested Mrs. Merrill,
laughingly; “I think that’s safe when we all won, don’t you?”
While they had been racing, Mrs. Berry and her friend had spread the
white table cloth and had unpacked most of the tempting food, so each
girl dropped down by the nearest napkin and prepared to be served.
No wonder the ladies had wanted to keep that lunch basket for a
surprise--it was a meal fit for a king and each hungry eater was loud
in the praises of kind Mrs. Trudy who had given them such a feast.
There was fried chicken, each piece frilled with white paper and rolled
up by itself; and sandwiches and rolls and jelly and olives and pickles
and salad and cake and, oh, just everything good a person could think
of. And last of all the real surprise--a can of fine ice cream which
not one had guessed was tucked in under the back seat; no one, that is,
but the driver, whom Mrs. Trudy had let into the secret.
After lunch was over the girls gathered moss and shells and acorns;
they played games and had such a good time that no one even thought of
home or the sky or weather or anything like that till suddenly Mrs.
Merrill noticed that the sun wasn’t shining.
“We should have brought wraps after all!” exclaimed Mrs. Berry in
dismay, “but who’d have guessed that this fine day would end in a rain.
Come quick, girlies, we’ll have to bustle our things into the car in a
jiffy and make for home. I know these southern storms and this starts
out like a bad one.”
Even as she spoke the sky grew suddenly blacker and a great flash of
lightning lit up the woods with a weird light.
“I never saw anything so sudden!” cried Mrs. Merrill; “look! There’s
a drop of rain now! Hadn’t we better put up the curtains on the car
before we start? It would be a bad thing for us to get wet so far from
home.”
The three ladies helped and the girls held curtains from the inside so
the job didn’t take very long. But even that little time made a great
difference. The great drops of water came faster and faster and the
driver got soaked when he jumped out to lock the gate that led from
woods to road.
“There’s no one on the road, driver,” said Aunt Sue, as they started
north, “so let her out. The roads are good and we can get home through
the woods if you drive fast so as to make it before the roads get too
soaked.”
On they dashed; past bridges, woods, gullies and inlets. They were
taking the inside road as that would get them home quicker than the
beach road they had used coming down. The girls thought it was a lark
to sit cuddled up safe and dry in the car while the lightning flashed
and the rain beat upon the leather roof over their heads.
On they went, past more woods and orchards and creeks, all the time
having near them on one side or the other the wide stretches of water
that now, at high tide, came up so close to the road. The shell road
made fine driving but no one, not even the driver who was used to that
country, realized how very slick the road might be in such a storm.
On, and on, through the lightning that lit up the dark shadows of the
groves they raced past.
And then a sudden whirl--a slip--a splash! The car had skidded from the
road into the bay and stood hub deep in a vast inlet of water.
WALKING THE PLANK
For a minute all seven folks in that car were too amazed to speak;
then, suddenly every one began to talk at once.
“Will we sail out to sea?” asked Mary Jane.
“Driver, do you know when the tide is high?” from Mrs. Merrill.
“Of course, there’ll be no one along this road while the storm lasts!”
cried Mrs. Berry.
“Will we just sit here and drown?” exclaimed Ellen.
“I guess I’ll swim ashore!” laughed Alice, who thought the experience a
lark it was so unusual.
And as they talked the lightning flashed and sparkled; the thunder
roared deafeningly and the rain on the car and on the water around
them made so much noise they had to yell to make each other hear.
Suddenly Mrs. Merrill happened to think of time. She glanced at her
watch and exclaimed, “It’s four o’clock! If I recall rightly from
yesterday on the beach that’s nearly high tide. If that’s the case the
water won’t get any higher.”
“What’s tide?” asked Mary Jane.
“It’s the rising and falling of the water, dear,” said Mrs. Merrill.
“Twice a day the water spreads out a few feet over the land and twice a
day it goes back. Some other time I’ll tell you more about it. If the
water doesn’t come up much deeper here we’ll not be in any real danger
and I think we’d better sit still till the storm goes over. Surely such
a hard storm will not last long.”
So they tried to settle themselves comfortably for a long wait. But
it wasn’t easy. The roar of the thunder and the water and the weird
light from the storm’s bright flashes made them all uneasy. They
played twenty questions and they counted the seconds on Mrs. Merrill’s
watch between the lightning and the thunder. But nothing seemed very
interesting.
“I’ll tell you what let’s do,” suggested Mrs. Berry, “let’s talk about
where we are going and what we plan to see before we go back up north.
That will be fun.”
And it was. Mrs. Merrill said she and the girls planned to go back to
Jacksonville in a day or two where they hoped to meet Mr. Merrill.
“You don’t mean to tell me,” exclaimed Mrs. Berry, “that these girls
are going home without a ride up the Ocklawaha? That seems a shame!”
“The Ocklawaha?” questioned Mrs. Merrill; “I don’t believe I know that
trip.”
“Then you surely must take it,” said Mrs. Berry; “the girls will love
riding on that great, queer boat through the wild forests where they
can see alligators and snakes and turtles and orange groves and Indian
battle fields and everything, right close at hand. When we get home
I’ll show you the folders.”
“Do they have really truly alligators growing outside a fence?” asked
Mary Jane, her eyes big with wonder.
“Do they?” answered Mrs. Berry vigorously; “you just wait and see!
Alligators along the banks and in the water and right near the boat.”
“Ugh!” exclaimed Mary Jane, as a sudden thought struck her; “are there
any here?”
“I hope not,” said Mrs. Berry with a shiver; “no, girls, I was just
joking,” she added as she saw the three girls glance fearfully at the
water; “alligators like jungles and heavy vegetation. They would never
come up so near a road--you may be sure of that.”
“Listen!” exclaimed Alice suddenly; “wasn’t that thunder farther away?”
The driver loosened the front curtain and peered out. Yes, the storm
was going away, that was plain to see. The thunder was getting fainter
every minute, the lightning was only a glow and the rain had nearly
stopped.
“I do believe it’s going away as quickly as it came,” said Aunt Sue
hopefully. “What time is it now anyway?”
“Five o’clock,” replied Mrs. Merrill; “how’s the tide, driver?”
“Going down,” he answered; “see? It’s below the running board a-ready.
I guess I’ll see if I can start her up.” He pressed the button on his
starter and the wheels of the auto began to spin but the car didn’t
move an inch. “Just as I was afraid!” he muttered; “stuck in the mud.
I’ll wade to shore and walk down the road till I come to a house where
I can get help to pull us out. I reckon you’ll all be safe enough.” He
pulled off his shoes and socks, waded to shore and set off up the road.
By this time the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking through the
clouds, so sitting in a car out in the water seemed much less dismal.
He hadn’t been gone more than fifteen minutes before an auto pulled up
in front of the stranded car and out jumped the driver and two men.
“I met ’em up the road,” their driver explained, “and we’ve brought a
plank and a rope.”
“Yes, we’ll soon have you all out and a-riding home,” said one of the
men.
First they laid the great long plank from the road to the running board
of the car. Then Mrs. Merrill, who had been loosening the curtains,
stepped out to walk to shore.
“Better let the little lady go first to see if it’s all right,”
suggested the driver. “Here, Alice, your mother can hold you to start
and I’ll meet you to finish.”
So Alice climbed out and holding tightly to her mother’s out-stretched
hand, started the scary looking walk to shore. The plank did tip and
sway, but the men stood on the shore end so it would not slip and she
made the journey safely.
“That wasn’t hard a bit!” exclaimed Alice; “I’d like to do it again!”
“One at a time, please, one at a time,” laughed the driver. “You’ll be
playing pirate first thing you know--I remember I used to read about
walking the plank in pirate books, though goodness knows it wasn’t
anything like this! Who’s coming next?”
Mrs. Merrill lifted Mary Jane out and set her on the plank; then she
walked close behind and held onto the little girl’s shoulders as they
slowly crept to shore. Mrs. Berry came next with Ellen held in front
of her the same way and last of all Aunt Sue. Then the men waded out,
tied the heavy rope onto the car, fastened it onto their own machine
and with a great tugging and pulling and jerking the car was pulled
loose from the river bed and dragged up onto the road.
“There you are!” exclaimed one of the men, “all ready to drive. Now,
young man,” he said to the driver, “suppose you see if your engine’s
damaged and then we’ll be going.” While the driver inspected his engine
Mrs. Merrill paid the two men for their trouble so that when the engine
was found to be unharmed they started home at once. The water had
drained off the hard shell roads very quickly and the drive home was
not half so unpleasant as might have been expected.
In a very short time they came to a stop in front of their own hotel.
“Well, I surely am glad to be back!” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill.
“And we surely are glad to have you here safe and sound!” cried good
Mrs. Trudy coming out to greet them. “We’ve all been anxious about you.
Did the storm hit your way?”
“Did it?” answered Mrs. Merrill; “ask the girls!”
The three girls began talking at once and it was a wonder Mrs. Trudy
could hear a thing.
“I just knew something had happened when you were so late,” she said
when the girls stopped for breath. “And you must be starved--did you
know it’s after seven? I saved some hot dinner for you so run right in
and eat it.”
Other guests had long finished eating but they followed the little
party into the dining room and listened to the story of the exciting
experience. But after dinner was eaten and the story had been told
and re-told till every one had heard it many a time, the girls found
they were tired and nobody, for a wonder, objected when Mrs. Merrill
suggested going to their rooms.
“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Trudy, suddenly, “where did he put that box? Tom
had something for you, Mary Jane, and he was so particular you should
have it first thing when you came home but for the life of me I don’t
know where it is!” She hunted around diligently for a minute or two and
then said, “Well, he must have taken it off with him. You’d better get
to bed, little lady, so you can get up early in the morning and see
what it is.”
“Can’t you tell?” coaxed Mary Jane.
“Tell!” exclaimed Mrs. Trudy. “I should say I couldn’t! Tom will tell
you himself because it’s his. He comes early you know, so you may come
down the first minute you are dressed and I’ll wager he’ll be looking
for you.”
“Won’t you even _hint_?” asked Mary Jane as she started up the stairs.
“Well,” laughed Mrs. Trudy, “I might tell you that it’s alive and
it’s red or brown or green or yellow--I don’t know which just at this
minute--if that’s any help to you.”
“I guess I might as well go to bed,” said Mary Jane after she had
thought hard for a minute, “’cause that doesn’t help a bit. I guess
I’ll just have to go to bed and get up in the morning, I guess I will.”
CATCHING THE BOAT
When Mary Jane went down stairs the next morning she spied a queer
looking box with holes cut in the sides lying on the big table in the
office.
“Now I wonder if that’s it?” she thought. “And I wonder if I can look
at it now.”
Fortunately, she didn’t have to wonder long. Tom was sitting in a
corner reading the paper while waiting for her and as soon as he heard
her whisper he bobbed up and said good morning.
“Look what I’ve got for you!” he exclaimed as he gave her the box.
“No,” he added as he saw she hesitated about taking the cover off, “you
don’t need to be afraid. I think he’s too sleepy to run away. Look and
see what it is.”
Mary Jane carefully lifted off the cover and there inside, nestled down
on the grass, was a tiny little creature, about three inches long, with
bead-like black eyes and a tail fully as long as his body.
“What is it?” cried Mary Jane; “it looks like a baby alligator only
they’re brown.”
“Yes, it does look something like that,” agreed Tom, “but it isn’t an
alligator. It’s a chameleon.”
“A chameleon?” repeated Mary Jane; “what’s a chameleon?”
Alice came running down the stairs just in time to hear what Mary Jane
said. “I know,” she cried eagerly, “it’s a creature that changes its
color.”
“But this doesn’t change any color,” said Mary Jane skeptically;
“this’n green.”
“Yes,” said Tom, “because it’s on green grass. You just wait and I’ll
show you.” He picked up the little creature by its tail and, holding it
gently, laid it on the brown table cover. To the girls’ amazement the
brilliant green color faded and like magic the creature before them was
all of brown.
“Oh!” exclaimed Mary Jane, in an awe-struck voice; “what makes it do
it?”
“They say,” replied Tom, “that it’s got a set of air cells that catch
the color of whatever the creature’s on. But I don’t believe they
really for sure certain know what _does_ do it.”
“But that’s not yellow!” said Mary Jane, remembering that Mrs. Trudy
had said three colors.
“Of course not,” laughed Tom, “because the table cover’s brown. Here,
you put it on Alice’s yellow dress and see what happens.”
Very gingerly, Mary Jane picked up the little creature and laid it in
Alice’s lap. And sure enough! Like magic again the chameleon changed
its color--this time a golden yellow that was streaked a bit with
brown at the sides--made it look utterly unlike the green animal Mary
Jane had first seen in the box.
“I think that’s the wonderfulest thing I ever saw,” she exclaimed. “I’m
just going to change it around all day and see what it does.”
Fortunately Mrs. Merrill had made no special plans for that day. She
thought that if they were to take the boat trip so recommended to them,
the girls had better have a day of rest and quiet play before they set
off. So Mary Jane had plenty of time to play with her chameleon to her
heart’s content. Later in the morning, Tom found one for Alice too and
they made a nest for them out in the fern box on the big front porch.
There were things to do besides play with the chameleons too. The yard
was full of squirrels which would eat out of the girls’ hands. And back
of the house a beautifully shaded canal proved to be the home of many
sorts and sizes of turtles. So interesting did the girls find their
play that they didn’t care to leave it even for a walk up town when
Mrs. Merrill decided that she would go up and get the boat tickets for
to-morrow.
The first thing Mary Jane heard the next morning was her mother’s voice
saying, “Alice! Mary Jane! Do wake up quickly! We’ve over slept and the
train goes in an hour and a half. Lucky I packed up the trunk and all
your shells last night for we’ll have to fly now.”
The girls tumbled out of bed in a jiffy. They had talked with folks in
the hotel the evening before about the Ocklawaha River trip and they
were eager to take it. So it needed no urging to get them tubbed and
dressed and down to the dining room in short order.
“You’ve plenty of time,” said Mrs. Trudy reassuringly; “your trunk
will go right now--I’ll tend to that and Tom is ready to drive you to
the station, so take your time at breakfast. The train doesn’t go till
nine, you know.”
Later Mrs. Merrill had looked over her mail and the girls had said
good-by to all their new friends and were just getting into the station
bus when the telephone rang. “Train’s an hour late,” said Mrs. Trudy as
she hung up the receiver, “aren’t you glad you did not rush more?”
“But will that give us plenty of time to make the boat?” asked Mrs.
Merrill; “let’s see--two hours for the trip and the boat goes at twelve
forty-five. Yes, that ought to be plenty of time. Girls, you may run
out and take a last look at your chameleons if you like.” That was
welcome permission. Of course they had wanted to take the chameleons
home with them but Mrs. Merrill thought it wasn’t possible as they were
stopping so many places en route. But it was fun to hunt them up and
play a few minutes with their changing colors.
As the minutes went by Mrs. Merrill became uneasy and a second
telephone message bringing news that the train was an hour and a half
late confirmed her suspicion that they might have trouble making
connections.
“I think I’ll phone the agency where I got the tickets,” she said
finally. “Perhaps they will wire and have the boat held for us.” The
ticket lady was most reassuring and was certain that the boat would
wait so Mrs. Merrill felt comforted. But it was eleven o’clock when the
train finally came and it lost more time all the way up.
“Girls,” said Mrs. Merrill, as they neared their station at half
past one, “get your bags and camera ready for a dash. If I see a car
anywhere around the station I’ll take it in a jiffy and we’ll drive as
fast as possible for that boat. I have an uneasy feeling that they
won’t wait this long for us and I don’t want to lose a minute’s time.”
They stepped off the train the instant it stopped and Mrs. Merrill ran
toward a small car that, with chugging engine and waiting driver, stood
near by.
“Will you take us to the boat?” she cried eagerly.
“Sure, lady,” said the driver cheerfully; “pile right in.”
Grabbing the luggage the girls carried, a small bag and Alice’s camera,
Mrs. Merrill tossed it with her own bag into the back, pushed the girls
in and, jumping in herself, slammed the door behind her. And that same
instant a man who evidently had been up at the front of the train
jumped in the front seat by the driver, and with a lurch the car dashed
away.
“The boat, you know,” said Mrs. Merrill as soon as she got her breath;
“we want the Ocklawaha boat.”
“Sure, lady,” said the man, “we’ll make it.” He waved a yellow telegram
before her, but with the jolting of the car and the rush of the wind,
Mrs. Merrill couldn’t tell what it said nor could she hear the rest of
his words.
“Well, no use getting excited,” she said, sitting back where she could
brace herself better. “Evidently they wired to meet us here and that
certainly was thoughtful. Hang on to the seat there, Mary Jane, or
you’ll bounce out, child,” she added quickly as an extra big lurch of
the car threatened to toss Mary Jane out over the side.
On they dashed through the noon sunshine: past houses and streets and
out into the open country. And no sign of a boat landing anywhere.
“Something’s wrong, I know,” said Mrs. Merrill with concern. “I know
we’ve been at least four miles and the boat landing was only two
miles from the station. They’ve got to stop and tell me where they are
going.” She braced herself firmly and then reached front and shouted to
the driver.
“Stop! Stop right here! I told you I want to go to the boat landing and
you’re not taking us in that direction.”
The driver slowed up a bit so they could talk better but he didn’t
stop. The man with him swung around in his seat and began to explain.
“The boat isn’t at the landing, lady,” he said much to Mrs. Merrill’s
dismay; “she left an hour back.”
“Then where are you taking us?” demanded Mrs. Merrill.
“To the boat,” he said. “You see it’s this way, lady. The first part of
that trip is on the St. John’s River and right here” (he swung his arm
off to the left) “the river makes a bend. We had to let the boat go on
time because folks don’t like to wait, but we’ll take you across the
bend straight, you see, and catch the boat at the first stop. We can do
in half an hour in this car what it takes her about an hour and a half
to do on the water. Never you fear, now, you’ll catch the boat right
enough, lady.”
“Then we might as well enjoy the ride,” said Mrs. Merrill to the girls
as, fairly satisfied with his explanation, she settled back in her
place.
“If you call this enjoying,” laughed Alice, as she tossed from front to
back as they sped over the rough road.
“Here,” said Mrs. Merrill, “let me sit in the middle and hold each of
you.” Alice moved over and Mrs. Merrill sat in the middle of the seat
with an arm around each girl. “Now we have the fun of knowing that if
any one bounces out we all will!”
None too soon did they brace themselves either, for at that minute
the driver turned off from the road into a woods. If the road had
been rough, there’s no describing the roughness of the rude path they
followed through the woods. Hardly more than a trail it was and over it
they bumped and tossed and hurried down a hill, through the trees and
out onto a rude dock on the bank of a great river.
“Boat come yet?” asked the driver of a lone fisherman.
“Yeh,” he replied, “she come an’ gone fifteen minutes er-go!”
Mrs. Merrill exclaimed with dismay but the driver didn’t stop for
consultation. With a whirl of his wheel that sent the car spinning he
turned around and dashed back up the hill.
“Girls,” said Mrs. Merrill solemnly, “I think he’s crazy. But all I can
see for us to do is to sit still and hang together. Maybe sometime
we’ll get somewhere--let’s hope. Here, Mary Jane, snug up close so you
won’t bounce out!”
And turning onto the road, the car dashed off toward the south.
ON THE OCKLAWAHA
It seemed to Mary Jane that she surely must be in a funny dream. It
couldn’t be possible that folks, really live, wide-awake folks, would
go racing over the country in a strange car as they were racing; and
she glanced up at her mother questioningly to see if she too was
thinking it queer. But Mrs. Merrill, her arms around her two daughters,
was looking straight ahead in a puzzled way and Mary Jane couldn’t
guess what she was thinking about.
The little car raced on. Through sandy roads that would have stalled a
heavier machine; across bridges; through woods dim with the shelter of
moss laden trees; by small fields where they caught glimpses of tiny
truck gardens--they dashed.
“Government camphor reservation!” shouted the driver over his shoulder
as they drove between rows and rows of low, close-cropped trees set
in neat orderly fashion and the Merrills got a whiff of the smell of
camphor as they rushed by the rough factory where the camphor leaves
are crushed to make the drug so many folks use.
“Now we’ll _have_ to stop!” said Mrs. Merrill with a sigh of relief
as they swung around a short curve and came upon a toll bridge at the
end of which stood an old man, hand out-stretched for his fee. But she
didn’t know the driver! He didn’t intend to stop for mere toll--not he!
“Pay you on the way back,” shouted the driver and on they rode.
After what seemed, oh at least a day! but which really was only an
hour, the car slowed up in a tiny village and rolled down a hill to a
fishing dock by the St. Johns river.
“There we are!” said the driver as he brought the car to a full stop
and, jumping out, opened the door with a flourish. “In plenty of time
too, I’ll say!” He helped Mrs. Merrill and the girls out, then rubbing
his hands in satisfaction added, “I guess that’ll please him--no,
lady,” as he saw Mrs. Merrill reaching for her purse; “you don’t owe me
a cent--not a cent! Glad to do it for him!”
“For who?” asked Mrs. Merrill, puzzled but greatly relieved because she
had begun to be anxious about the hole this ride might leave in her
pocket book!
“For Mr. Merrill,” replied the driver, “aren’t you Mrs. C. F. Merrill?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Merrill, still puzzled.