But though the morning was bright and blue and lovely, clouds banked up
over the sky soon after noon, and just as they found themselves once
more in a pine forest, where also grew great oaks and elms, behold, big
drops of rain began to patter down on the dry road, sending up cloudlets
of dust, and before they could draw into the shelter of the trees, the
storm was on them with all its force.
It was not a still summer storm, for while the thunder pealed and
crashed, and the lightning hissed among the falling rain, the wind blew
with terrible force, bending the trees like fishing rods, and strewing
the road with broken branches.
Nor did the rain cease when the squall blew over, but continued to pour
down.
Night came on this evening a full hour before its time, and still the
rain rained on.
The bivouac was once more in a wood, and oh! what a fearful night it
was--the thunder deafening, the rain looking like streams of fire in the
glare of the lightning. But our tired little wanderers fell soundly to
sleep amidst it all, and though some drops came through the canvas, and
even fell upon their faces, it did not wake them. Only when the birds
had been singing for fully two hours they opened their eyes, and
wondered where they were now.
The day was very hot and close, and the sun so bright that the roads,
much to Don's joy, soon dried up.
The country through which they were now passing was very grand and
wildly picturesque. Hills on hills successively rose on every side
around them; they crossed romantic single-arched bridges, over deep
ravines, far down at the bottom of which streams went foaming on through
a chaos of great dark boulders, which had fallen from the beetling
cliffs below, and to which wild flowers clung in patches, with here and
there a dwarf pine or silver-stemmed birch.
Slowly, but surely, the roots of these tiny trees were loosening the
rocks.
What a lesson this reads one of the virtues of perseverance! For listen
to this: the thickness of the rootlets that do the work is no greater
than that of a stocking wire, the rate of their growth in length is not
a hundredth part of that of the motion of a watch's hour-hand, the
strength they expend in a given second would not be enough to lift or
move the tiniest midge or fly that alights upon the page you are
reading. But these rootlets have faith, and faith moves mountains.
They keep on growing and creeping into every crevice, and in time, lo
and behold! tons of solid rock are detached, a thunder shower perhaps
being the last straw to break the camel's back, and down it thunders to
the bottom of the ravine, smashing trees and crunching other rocks, till
it all reaches the bottom with the force and speed of a little
avalanche.
Sometimes they passed over broad open moors, the heather on which was
still green, and would be for months to come, but patched all throughout
with low flat bushes of golden furze, the scent from which perfumed the
air all round, and must have penetrated even to the clouds. The lark,
high in air, thrilling out his wild melody, and the rose-breasted wee
linnet were the only songsters on these lonely moorlands.
They went very slowly to-day, often stopping to let Don rest, and to
cull the wild flowers that grew everywhere in glorious luxuriance.
Little toddling children ran from cottage doors and waved their caps and
cheered them, and called them show gipsies, and all sorts of funny
names. Sometimes they stopped at these houses to get water for Don and
Ossian; then the bairnies came all in a crowd, holding out tiny palms to
have their fortunes told.
Effie, in her saucy little straw hat, and her long cloak of crimson, did
not look at all unlike a real Romany. She always told good fortunes.
The boys were to grow up into bold, brave, good men, and go and fight
for their king and country, and come back with hats and plumes on their
heads, stars on their manly breasts, spurs on their heels, and great
swords jangling at their sides. The girls were to grow up good and kind
and truthful, and some were to marry princes, who would come riding for
them on white palfreys with scarlet trappings and manes and tails that
touched the ground. Some were to marry great warriors, and others would
have to be content to wed with honest John Ploughman, or perhaps to
marry the miller.
Effie was the house-provider, and often wanted to buy eggs and butter
and bread and milk, and she was very much, astonished at the kindness of
all these cottagers, for none of them could be prevailed upon to accept
any money.
"Bless the dear wee innocent," a woman would say, "so far away from its
mammie. I won't have this money."
"Isn't she wise-looking?" another would add.
"Just like a wee witchie."
Thus on and on and on went these amateur gipsies for a whole week, and I
do not know really which enjoyed this strange wandering tour the most,
Leonard, Effie, Ossian, or Don.
But it was not all humble folks they came across, though nearly all; for
the fact is they avoided big houses. Leonard said he wanted to mingle
with the people. And so they did; but once, and once only, two ladies
came up to them in a wood just as they were harnessing up, and about to
start on the afternoon journey.
Effie had made all the outside front of the caravan quite gay with wild
flowers, and a great garland of primroses, ivy, and wild hyacinths, and
was tying it round Don's neck, when the ladies alighted from their
horses, and came to speak to her.
"You are not an ordinary gipsy child, I know," said one. Effie only
opened her blue eyes wider, and looked at the lady, who was young and
most pleasant to behold.