A DASH FOR HELP
Although no serious accident did occur in the girls’ camp during the
month they spent at the lodge, there did come an occasion which might
have resulted unfortunately. This time it was Joanne whose quick wits
saved the situation. She was riding Chico through the woods, keeping
to the bridle paths, rather than to the main road. She loved the bosky
depths of these woods, so shady and quiet. Often she would dismount,
tether the little pony to a tree and go exploring for plants and
flowers. Or she would sit very still in order to observe bird life, and
maybe find an opportunity of spying on some little wild animal, a Molly
Cottontail or a wise looking old woodchuck. Once she saw a raccoon; at
another time came upon a huge black snake which went scalloping off
as glad to get out of her way as she was to get out of his. Of the
little green grass snakes she was never afraid, knowing them to be
perfectly harmless, but this big black monster, although he might not
be venomous, was, nevertheless, a creature to inspire fear.
Upon this particular day Joanne had been watching a family of
squirrels, amused by their antics, and making notes of what she saw.
Leaving Chico she followed the squirrels from tree to tree as they
leaped and scolded overhead. Presently she heard a strange crackling
sound, and noticed much chattering from the squirrels, then she
observed much excitement among the birds who flew about the branches,
uttering wild cries of alarm. “Something’s the matter,” Joanne told
herself. “I wonder if that old black snake is after the birds, or if
the squirrels are bothering them; they both seem to be very fussy.”
She walked on a little way then she exclaimed, “I smell smoke!” Then
she saw a darting flame. She ran forward, surveyed the scene for a
moment, then dashed back to where Chico stood. Her mind worked rapidly.
She must get help at once. There was no use for her to try to quench
the flames; they had made too great headway, but if allowed to pursue
their way the whole forest might go; valuable timber would be lost.
What could she do? Where was the nearest help?
Suddenly an idea struck her. She raced to the spot where Chico stood,
unfastened him, mounted and cried, “Go, for your life, Chico!” Through
the woods they sped, out upon a little used country road, up-hill,
down, up again, till they reached a high crag overlooking the river.
Without waiting to fasten the little pony, Joanne ran to the edge of
the crag, whipped off the kerchief she wore around her neck, drew her
handkerchief from her pocket and with one in each hand began to signal
to Longshanks Island immediately opposite.
“Oh, if they only see,” she breathed as she sent forth the message:
“Woods on fire! Come quick!”
She could see boys walking about on the island, some busy with the
boats, some going in or out of the tents.
For a little time she felt that her signals were of no use, but
presently she saw a boy standing still, and evidently looking in her
direction, then she saw him gesticulating and pointing. Next she saw
a number of boys running to the boats, and in another moment, to her
great relief, she read the answering message from one of them: “We
understand. We’re coming.”
For a moment she was undecided whether to wait on the cliff or to go
down to the spot where they would be likely to land and which was some
distance below. “We’ll gain time if I meet them there,” she said to
Chico. “We must make it, Chico; I trust to you. I believe you will
take me safely.” Chico, who had not moved since she dismounted, gave a
little whinny as Joanne turned him toward the brink of the cliff. There
was a little winding path which led down to the river. It was steep,
oh, so steep, rocky and forbidding. For the breadth of a second, Joanne
held her breath and pressed her teeth hard against her lower lip, then
she summoned up all her courage. “You can make it, Chico; you are a
mountain boy,” she said encouragingly, and began the descent.
Down, down the sure-footed little pony went, picking his way among
scrubby underbrush, over rocks, around bare gnarled roots, but never
once did he falter and never once did Joanne lose her faith in him. The
first boat was just coming in when pony and rider reached the foot of
the cliff. First the boys stared, then with one accord they gave a wild
cheer.
“Good for you, Jo!” they cried. “That was some stunt! Where’s the fire?”
“Over here in the woods. I didn’t want to lose any time by coming
around. I’ll go ahead and show you where it is. I thought you boys
would know best how to put it out, besides there are more of you than
there are men on the nearest farm. Just follow me.”
She trotted along on Chico, the boys following at as smart a gait
as possible, and before long they saw the fire ahead of them. From
creeping along it was beginning to mount to the trees above which the
smoke curled in a steady column. In a few minutes the second boat-load
of boys arrived, having been directed to the spot by the arrow sign
left by the first boys as they went along. They all consulted together
for a moment.
“Water’s not much use,” declared Hal Fosdick; “what we should do is to
plough up or dig a ditch so the fire can’t go beyond a certain point.
Some one should go to the nearest farm and notify them so they can
bring the tools we need; the rest can stay here and do what can be done
to put out the fire.”
“I’ll go,” offered Joanne. “Chico can take me in a jiffy.”
“I think you’ve done enough,” said Hal, “you and Chico, both, but I
believe you would be the best one to go as it will leave more workers
here.”
So Joanne galloped off, but at the edge of the woods she met two men on
horseback. “What’s up?” cried the foremost one. “It looks like there
was fire over yonder in the woods, and it seemed too big for one of
these here camp fires the boys and girls are starting up every now and
then.”
“It will be a big fire if it isn’t stopped,” Joanne told him, “but it
wasn’t started by the girls or boys, that I know. I happened to see it
when it was only rather a small fire, and I got the boys to come over
from the island; they are there now, but they want spades and ploughs
and things as quick as they can get them. The fire can’t be put out
with just water. They want to dig a ditch to keep it from spreading.”
“Good idea,” responded the man. “Come on, Dick, we’ll get the things
back here as quick as we can. From the looks of it there’s no time to
lose.”
“Shall I come?” asked Joanne.
“Reckon you don’t have to; your horse isn’t a plough horse,” said the
man with a grin as he galloped off.
Joanne went back to the boys. “I met them right at the edge of the
woods,” she said. “They’re coming with the things.”
The boys were beating out the fire as best they could, clearing away
underbrush which could be easily ignited, and breaking off dead
branches which would feed the flames. These died down a little as they
reached the greener trees, but broke out afresh from time to time.
It was not long before the men with spades and ploughs arrived upon
the scene; they were reinforced by others who had seen the smoke and
who had provided themselves with axes in order to cut away trees which
might carry the fire farther.
It was a smoky, smutty crew which finally rested from the labor of
making all safe. Several of the Boy Scouts volunteered to stay on watch
in order that no flying brand which might ignite dry wood should be
overlooked, and the company dispersed. Joanne lingered just long enough
to tell the boys that there would be open house at the lodge when they
wanted something to eat, and went off to make her report to Miss Dodge.
It was her turn to be made a heroine, but somehow she felt less ready
to claim her rights than she would have thought possible on that
occasion when Winnie was so praised. “I am sorry, Miss Dodge,” she
said, as the girls flocked around her, “but I went outside of bounds;
I just had to, for it didn’t seem to me there was any other way, and
every minute counted.”
“It was certainly an emergency,” Miss Dodge replied, “and you are quite
excusable, although we were all worried that you should be gone so
long, until we heard what had happened.”
“Who told you?”
“Unc’ Aaron came over to say that the woods were on fire and that
you had given the alarm. He had some marvellous tale of how you rode
Chico down a sheer precipice, and that it was a wonder you didn’t fall
headlong. How was it, Joanne?”
Joanne glanced around at the eagerly listening girls. “It was entirely
due to that darling, sure-footed Chico,” she said. “I knew he was a
mountain pony and could go where ordinary horses would be scared, so I
just put him at it and he picked his way without even once stumbling.”
Miss Dodge shook her head. “Pretty venturesome. Weren’t you afraid,
Joanne?”
“A little, at first, but I was so anxious to get to the foot of the
cliff and meet the boys that I didn’t think of anything else; besides I
was excited, and you do things when you are excited that you wouldn’t
dare to do in cold blood.”
“Just where was the place?” asked Miss Chesney.
“That cliffy one opposite Longshanks Island. I rode to the top and
signalled to the boys.”
“You signalled? What with?” asked Miss Dodge.
“My neckerchief and my handkerchief. I was so relieved when I saw they
understood. Then I realized that they would come right over and land at
the foot of the cliff, as near as they could, but I knew we would lose
time if I waited for them where I was, and that I’d better try to meet
them, so I did.”
“Do you mean to say that you rode right down that sheer cliff?” asked
Claudia excitedly grabbing Joanne’s arm.
“Why, yes,” replied Joanne hesitatingly. “It wasn’t so awful, and I
have seen movie pictures of Italian soldiers going down much worse
places on horseback.”
Smothered ejaculations of “Oh!” were breathed by the girls.
“You’re a perfect wonder!” cried Winnie; “isn’t she, Miss Dodge? I’d no
more dare to do that than I would fly.”
“I wouldn’t in the least mind flying,” returned Joanne laughingly, “and
I mean to, some day.”
“I haven’t a doubt but you will,” said Miss Chesney with emphasis.
It was on the tip of Joanne’s tongue to say: “At least no one can deny
that I can ride,” but she realized that this would sound too boastful
and she went off to her tent to get rid of some of the smoke and dust
of the afternoon’s adventure.
“I always knew there was lots in Jo,” said Claudia as the heroine went
off, “but she certainly is getting ahead by leaps and bounds.”
“Too leapy and boundy for me,” responded Esther Rhodes, who was often
inclined to be a little envious; “she’ll get ahead of us all if we
don’t look out.”
“Well, suppose she does,” Winnie spoke up; “somebody has to be first
and why shouldn’t she be?”
“But she is the very newest member of the troop, and it isn’t fair.”
“Why isn’t it?”
“Oh, because.”
“That’s no reason. You’re jealous, Ess; that’s what’s the matter
with you. Jo has never had half a chance; she’s just had to wander
around with her grandmother, and be fussed over and not allowed to
do this because it was hoydenish, or do that because it might injure
her health, yet all the time she should have been free to do the
very things she is doing now. Her grandmother is a dear, but she is
as old-fashioned and conventional as they make ’em, and expects to
make Joanne after the pattern of her own youth which isn’t the style
nowadays. Jo is as bright as a button and I, for one, am mighty proud
that she belongs to our troop and specially to our patrol; so should
you be, Miss Jealousy.”
Esther pouted, but, like the rest of the girls, was accustomed to
Winnie’s very frank way of dealing with a subject, a way which no one
resented for very long, because no one could help loving Winnie, and in
the end, thanking her for her wholesome truths.
Claudia, equally beloved, was more diplomatic, and presented her truths
more palatably; as Winnie said: “Clausie always gives you a pill in
jelly,” so at this juncture she remarked: “Ess is too loyal to her
troop not to be proud of every one of its members, and she’s too good
a Girl Scout not to stand up for any girl that is criticized. I’ll
venture to say she would take up the cudgels for Joanne or any one of
us if occasion required.”
“Of course I would,” maintained Esther. So were matters smoothed out,
and never again was Esther heard to say that Joanne should not have all
the credit she deserved.
Winnie found Joanne taking vigorous measures to get rid of her smudges.
“I’m a perfect sight,” she said. “Did you observe that lovely streak of
smut upon my nose, and the lateral one across my cheek? I’ve scrubbed
and scrubbed, but it was hard to get clean. I think I nearly am. What
do you think?” She turned a softly reddened face toward her friend.
“I think you are a darling,” answered Winnie catching her in her arms
and kissing her. “Honest Injun, Jo, weren’t you on the verge of nervous
prostration when you reached the foot of that cliff?”
Joanne looked at the towel with which she was wiping her fingers. “Well
no; I think I felt more excited and exultant than anything else. Do you
know, Win, I’m rather dreading Gradda’s knowing about it. I don’t know
what in the world she will say.”
“When Gradda heard it she was awfully vexed,
And said, ‘Joanne, what will you do next?’”
paraphrased Winnie laughing.
Joanne joined in the laugh. “That’s just what she will say, but
fortunately she won’t have a chance to say it till I get there, which
will not be for another week. Alas and alack! that it should be only
one more week. Do you think I am dreadfully depraved, Win, because I am
not crazy to join Gradda?”
“Silly! Of course not. Am I crazy to fly to the arms of my well-beloved
parents? Are any of the girls? I wot not. Of course we shouldn’t
want an endless separation, but while we are in this heavenly spot
and having the best sort of times we can’t be expected to rejoice at
leaving, especially when our parents are perfectly comfortable where
they are.”
“Well, I am glad you think that way about it, for I have been bringing
myself to task for not being keener about going to join Gradda.”
“I have warned you before, my young miss, not to take yourself too
seriously. Miss Dodge says it doesn’t do to be too introspective.”
“Dear me, I don’t think I could be accused of that,” replied Joanne. “I
have always thought I had never been enough so.”
“Then don’t begin to overdo it now. There are no half measures with
you, old dear, and once you begin to turn yourself inside out you will
bare your entire soul to self-censure and leave nothing nice and normal
to live with.”
“Oh, Win,” protested Joanne, “you do say such funny things, but I
understand what you mean, and I’m sure I don’t want to become a
maudlin sentimentalist. There come two of the boys,” she broke off.
“Let’s go see if there’s anything they want.”
They ran out to meet Hal and Chet who had come to borrow a few things.
“We came off in such a hurry,” they said, “that we didn’t bring any of
the stuff we usually carry with us. If you have a can opener to spare
we’d be thankful for the loan. We’ve bought some odds and ends at the
little shebang at the lock, but they haven’t much of an assortment, and
Mrs. Clover will let us have some milk.”
“You’d better come up here to supper,” said Winnie.
Hal shook his head. “Thank you, ma’am, but we can’t quit our job. We
must wait till all danger is past. I wonder who owns that bit of woods,
by the way.”
“Mr. Pattison does, doesn’t he, Jo?” inquired Winnie.
“Yes, I think he does, though it isn’t exactly a part of this tract.”
“Then he’s lost some of his timber, though not as much as he would have
done if it hadn’t been for you, Jo. Gee, Win, you should have seen Jo
do that stunt of riding down the cliff! I declare my heart was in my
mouth, so to speak, till I saw her land safe and sound.”
“You mustn’t give me the credit,” spoke up Joanne; “it was entirely
Chico’s performance.”
“Then he should have a medal for valor,” said Chet.
“Let’s give it to him,” proposed Hal. “We’ll get one ready and have the
ceremony of bestowing the honor upon him. How’ll that be, girls?”
“Great!” cried Winnie. “When will you come?”
“To-morrow afternoon, I think we can manage it. We’ll get Mr. Travis
to make the presentation speech.” Mr. Travis was the boys’ captain and
could always be depended upon to fall in with any such plan.
The girls sought out a can opener and brought it to them with a glass
of blackberry jam which was duly appreciated.
“You’ve saved our lives,” cried Chet. “Instead of having mere paltry
grub we now shall have a feast.” And off they went.
The ceremony of decorating Chico found favor with every one, for the
little pony was the pet of them all. Pablo was greatly excited over the
prospect while Unc’ Aaron was scarcely less so. Of course these two
were invited to be present as were the Clover family and the Scraggses.
Claude Lafayette by now had resumed his usual cherubic aspect and
seemed no worse for his recent accident. He proudly wore one of his new
frocks, while his sisters and brothers appeared in a state of at least
visible cleanliness. They were constantly admonished by their mother to
“set still and act pretty,” but squirmed uneasily and were covered with
confusion if any one spoke to them. No such bashfulness overcame Claude
Lafayette. He was a placid youngster and was among friends, therefore
he babbled cheerfully, and gave squeals of delight at sight of this or
that familiar face.
The girls had been busy all the morning baking gingerbread and
making lemonade to serve at Chico’s party, as they called it, and
had everything ready by five o’clock, which was the hour set for the
gathering. The spot selected was a stretch of meadow at the foot of
the hill, half-way between the lodge and the lock. Here the company
assembled, Mrs. Clover in a clean gingham frock, Mrs. Scraggs with much
befrizzed hair and wearing a fussy, but crumpled, white waist with a
lot of cheap jewelry, Mr. Scraggs, collarless, but with a clean shirt
on, Mr. Clover and his big son respectable in light suits, Unc’ Aaron
sporting the coat he kept for high days and holidays. No one knew where
he had acquired this proud possession, of dark blue with brass buttons
and decorated with braid; probably it was an old army coat which some
one had given him. With it he wore a fancy waistcoat and whatever pair
of trousers that happened to be in fair condition. He stationed himself
by the gate, like a sentinel, ready to open when Chico and his escort
should appear.
Promptly at five o’clock was heard the sound of fife and drum. The
girls who had been sitting around in groups on the grass sprang to
their feet and stood in rank. The gate was opened by Unc’ Aaron who
bowed to the ground as Pablo appeared leading Chico gaily caparisoned.
The little pony pranced and curvetted at sound of the music so close to
his heels, arching his neck and tossing his head in great style. The
Boy Scouts followed and drew up in line opposite the girls; Chico was
halted between the lines.
Then Mr. Travis stepped forward and said: “Señor Don Chico, it is my
privilege to present to you on behalf of your friends and admirers this
medal for distinguished service and valor.” And he hung around Chico’s
neck a remarkable decoration contrived from a tin can and a piece of
red flannel. The tin was cut in points and perforated upon its surface
were the words: “To Chico for valor.” Then followed the date. The
flannel was cut in scallops and upon it was fastened the medal. A cord
made of the flannel was attached to the whole.
After having hung the cord around Chico’s neck Mr. Travis stepped back.
“Why don’t you kiss him, or at least shake hands?” spoke up Joanne.
“If he had a hand----” began Mr. Travis.
But here Pablo cried: “_Dame le mano_, Chico!” and up went one of
Chico’s forefeet to be shaken.
At this performance a shout arose which was followed by great applause
as Joanne said: “Don’t you want to give me a kiss, Chico?” and the
little steed nodded his head, then laid it caressingly against Joanne’s
shoulder as she kissed him on the top of his nose.
After this every one wanted to examine the medal which was passed
around to be admired.
“It just beats me out,” said Mrs. Clover. “I wondered what in the world
those boys wanted of red flannel when they came up and asked me if I
had a piece. I thought they wanted it to bait frogs or something like
that, and I hunted out an old shirt of Mr. Clover’s to give ’em. It was
some cut up but they said it would do.”
“Well, I think it’s some pretty,” commented Mrs. Scraggs.
Here the boys struck up the national anthem, a salute to the flag was
given, and then Chico was taken to his stable under the escort of
Pablo, a patrol of Boy Scouts with Unc’ Aaron bringing up the rear, and
stepping more proudly than any other, head up, shoulders back, coat
tails swinging. Thus ended Chico’s party, so far as he was concerned.