THE WHIRLPOOL
All the spirit and joy of the woods seemed to have entered into the
Outdoor Girls. For the next half hour they romped in the woods and the
beautiful flowers for all the world like little children whose first
glimpse it was of the country.
They took down their hair and made wreaths of wild roses for crowns,
and when, faces flushed with exercise and fun, they had finished, one
might easily have mistaken them for real fairies come to life.
“But I want to see the river,” Betty called to them, stopping once more
to listen to the rhythmic sound of splashing water. “Come on, girls. It
can’t be more than a few hundred feet away, even though we can’t see it
for the bushes. Lead on, Mollie Billette, I wouldst hie me hence.”
But when Mollie laughingly obeyed and started into the woods, Amy held
back.
“What’s the matter?” Grace asked, turning to her curiously.
“I! I was just thinking,” stammered Amy, ashamed of her own weakness,
“about last night.”
“About last night,” Betty prompted, still at a loss.
“You haven’t forgotten, have you?” she asked, incredulously. “That!
thing! on the porch.”
“Oh!” they said, and a shadow fell over their bright faces.
“Why, yes,” said Betty, slowly, adding as though she could not quite
explain the phenomenon herself: “I suppose we did forget all about it.”
“Or if we didn’t, we should have,” said Mollie, ungrammatically but
decidedly. “Come on, girls, we aren’t going to let any silly old thing
like that frighten us out of a good time.”
“It seems,” said Grace thoughtfully, while Amy still held back, “almost
as if we had dreamed the whole thing. The memory of it is so vague! and
indistinct.”
“Well, it isn’t vague to me! or indistinct either,” said Amy, feeling
rather abused because the girls did not seem to share her feelings. “I
hardly slept all night long just thinking about it.”
“Oh, Amy Blackford!” said Grace accusingly, while Mollie and Betty
turned twinkling eyes upon her. “If that isn’t the biggest one I ever
heard. Why, I woke up once or twice in the night and each time I found
you almost snoring.”
“Oh, I did not,” protested Amy, flushing indignantly, but here Mollie
and Betty stepped laughingly into the fray and peremptorily put an end
to it.
“Let’s not fight about it,” said Betty, when she could make herself
heard. “We don’t care whether Amy snored or not. What we want to know
is this: Who is coming with us for a look at the falls?”
“Now you’re talking, Little Captain,” said Mollie approvingly. “All in
favor please say Aye.”
Amy still showed some inclination to hold back, but Mollie and Betty
each took an arm and hurried her willy-nilly with them into the woods.
“You had better take the lead, Mollie,” Betty suggested after they had
gone some little distance along the path. “I can manage Amy alone now,
I guess. She seems pretty well tamed.”
“Tamed, but scared to death,” Amy came back, with a wry smile. “Really,
Betty,” she turned to look at the Little Captain closely, “aren’t you
the least little bit nervous about what happened last night?”
“No, I don’t think I am now,” said Betty, adding candidly, “I must say
I was last night though! just frightened to death. It seemed so awfully
uncanny! coming upon that thing in the dark after what we had gone
through with that bandit. But then,” she added more lightly,
“everything seems so much worse in the dark, you know.”.
“Yes,” said Amy slowly and looking very serious. “That all may be very
true. But I think that as long as we are sure we didn’t dream it last
night and that the skulking thing really dodged out from the corner of
our porch that we ought to be on our guard against it. And how,” she
finished most reasonably, “can we be on our guard in the woods?”
Betty was at a loss to know just how to answer such a question. By this
time Mollie and Grace were some little distance ahead of them and Amy’s
nervousness was beginning to communicate itself to her against her
will.
She felt again the creeping sensation that had traveled up and down her
spine at sight of that crouching, sinister figure that had sprung out
from the shadow of the porch.
It had disappeared into the bushes last night, and, for all she knew!
and the thought made her tingle weirdly! it might still be hiding in
them, crouching, ready to spring
With an effort she shook off the mood and turned to Amy brightly.
“There is no use in our making a mountain out of a mole hill,” she
said, plucking a wild rose as they swung by and smelling of its
delicious fragrance. “Last night, I admit, it seemed very terrifying to
us, but that was probably because we couldn’t see what it was that
frightened us. It may just have been a large dog or something.”
“Humph,” sniffed Amy, sceptically, “it must have been a monster dog.
Sort of a ghost hound.”
“Goodness, that’s going from bad to worse,” laughed Betty, as they
rejoined the other girls. “Let’s hope it isn’t anything like that, Amy
dear. Hello, what are you waiting for?” she hailed the girls
cheerfully. “We almost fell over you.”
“Watch your step,” cautioned Mollie, adding as she cleared aside some
bushes and motioned Betty to a place beside her: “We’ve reached the
river, Betty, and a little farther up is the falls. Isn’t it
beautiful?”
“Oh, it is beautiful,” rejoined Betty, a sentiment which Amy heartily
echoed, and for a few minutes they stood there, drinking in the beauty
of the scene, entirely unmindful of the lovely picture they themselves
made with their loosened hair and wreaths of wild flowers.
The river was not very wide, but the water was deep and clear and swift
and the continual swish-swish of its passage over rocks and between
foliage-laden banks made a pleasant, even sound that was deliciously
restful and refreshing.
“Oh, if we could only get down right into the very middle of it and let
those little ripples wash over us forever and forever!” sighed Grace
ecstatically.
“She would a little mermaid be!” sang Betty, as she slipped down to the
very edge of the water and leaned over to catch her reflection in the
bright depths of it. “But honestly, Mollie, isn’t there any place in
the river where we can swim?”
“It looks too swift for good swimming to me!” began Grace, but Mollie
stopped her with a mysterious finger to her lips.
“Hush, my pretty one, not a word,” said the latter, beginning to pick
her way daintily along the river bank. “Follow me and you will wear
diamonds, or seaweed, or whatever it is that mermaids wear. And don’t
fall over, whatever you do,” she turned around to caution them, “The
river is so swift here that I don’t believe even the strongest swimmer
would have a chance.”
Accordingly the girls “watched their step,” and for some distance
followed Mollie uncomplainingly. Then, as there seemed no sign of their
getting anywhere, Grace started to protest.
“Say, do you suppose she has any idea where she is going?” the latter
asked of Betty in a tone that was designed to reach Mollie’s ear. But
before she could say anything more, Mollie herself swung jubilantly
round upon them.
“Here we are, girls!” she cried. “Now see if you ever saw anything so
pretty in all your lives.”
Once more the girls stood spellbound by the natural beauty of the
scene. As they walked they had become more and more conscious of the
roaring noise made by rushing water, and now, ascending a small rise of
ground, they came full upon the majestic beauty of Moonlight Falls.
The falls fell full thirty feet, and at the foot of it the river was
churned into swirling, liquid foam that whirled around and around again
in a sort of mad race and then went rushing off down the river in a
shower of lacy spray.
It was wildly inspiring, exhilarating, and the girls thrilled with a
strange new emotion as they watched. It was so free, so gloriously
unchained!
“There is our swimming pool over there,” Mollie said, raising her voice
to make it heard above the roar of the water. “You see there is a sort
of little back eddy below the falls and to one side of it, and right
there we’ll find the best swimming of our lives. But,” she added, and
her voice was impressively solemn, “heaven help any one of us who gets
in the path of the falls.”
“Look!” cried Amy suddenly, her voice ringing out full and clear and
startled above the uproar. “That! thing! over there. It is going into
the falls! no, under them!”
“Where?” cried Mollie eagerly, leaning far forward. “Oh, yes, I see
what you mean. Oh, girls, I’m slipping!” Her voice rose to a terrified
wail. “Betty! Catch me!”
But Betty was too late. She sprang forward just in time to see Mollie
slide down the slippery bank and plunge into the maddened water of the
river!