CORA'S QUEER PLIGHT
Springing to the back of one of the big field horses, Farmer Stevens
responded to the frantic summons of the auto horn, and started with
the pair up the hill to the assistance of Cora, and the righting of
her car, that almost swung between the narrow ledge of land, and the
great gulf of mountainous space that lay just beneath the banked up
highway.
"Oh, I am so afraid that Cora is hurt," wailed Belle. "We can't see
her, and she must have been tossed over into the tonneau of the car."
"She was on the right hand forward seat," gasped Bess, as both girls
ran along to the spot where the _Whirlwind_ was ditched, "but she may
have sprung out to avoid being thrown down the gully."
Although Bess was but a short distance behind Cora when the latter's
car met with the mishap, it now seemed a long space of roadway that
lay between them. Of course Bess had to bring her car to a safe place,
at the side of the thoroughfare, and Belle had to help some, so that
it had taken a minute or two to do this, before they could run to
Cora. In the meantime Mr. Stevens came along with his horses, and
Hope, signalled by the tooting of the horn of the _Flyaway_, had
called two of his hired men from the fields, so that the ditched auto
and the danger to its driver met with ready assistance.
"Oh, if Cora should be----" Then Belle checked herself. She had an
unfortunate habit of predicting trouble.
Mr. Stevens left his horses by the rail fence through which the
_Whirlwind_ had passed without hesitation, and Bess was beside him
just as he reached the big car.
"Oh, where is she!" wailed the girl, unable longer to restrain her
fears.
There was the car, partly overturned but seemingly not damaged.
Neither within nor without was there a sign of Cora!
"She must have been thrown down the embankment," said the man
anxiously. "She surely is not with the machine."
Bess now joined Belle and ran to the edge of the cliff. Almost afraid
to look, they peered over the brink.
"Where can she be?" breathed Belle, her hands clasped nervously.
"Cora! Cora, dear!" called Bess. "Where are you?"
"Here!" came what seemed to be a very faint reply.
"Where?" shouted the girls, now making their way down, step by step,
over the perilous cliffs.
Farmer Stevens knew every inch of that hill. He often had to rescue
from its uncertainties either a sheep or a young cow. He also knew
that precisely where the machine was ditched, the hill shelved to a
perfectly straight bank, so that instead of an incline the wall of
earth actually seemed to run under the surface.
"If she went over there," he told himself, "she never stopped
until--she landed."
"Oh, Cora!" called the girls again, "can't you tell us where you are?"
"Look out there, young ladies," cautioned Mr. Stevens, "or you may go
down--double quick!"
Hope was scaling the rocks like a wild creature. The two hired men
were almost jumping from cliff to cliff making straight for the clump
of hemlock trees at the very edge of the stream, that, in its quiet
way, defied the great hill above it.
"Here she is!" called Hope. "Here in the--bed of hemlock!"
To Bess and Belle, not acquainted with the peculiarities of the
flat-branched evergreen, finding Cora in "a bed of hemlock" was rather
a startling discovery, but to Hope--what nest could have been safer!
Cora had fallen over the cliff into the soft branches of a tree that
jutted out from the shelving earth.
"Are you hurt?" asked the girl from the farm, looking up into the
branch of the big green tree.
"I don't know--I don't think so, but I feel queer. I must get down,"
Cora managed to say.
By this time the others had reached the spot. Bess and Belle were
almost hysterical lest Cora should lose her hold and again fall to a
more dangerous landing. But the hired men stationed themselves under
the tree, and, with their strong arms netted beneath the giant
evergreen, they waited for Mr. Stevens to give an order.
"All ready?" asked Mr. Stevens.
"Yes, sir," replied the men.
"Young lady, can you get free of the branches?" he called to Cora.
"I am directly over a great hole," she answered timidly, "and I am
afraid I cannot hold on another minute."
"Then drop," said the farmer. "We will catch you. Don't be afraid. You
can't escape the arms of Sam and Frank!"
"Oh, if she should go to the bottom," wailed Belle, covering her face
with her trembling hands and uttering sighs and sobs. Bess was more
courageous, but equally frightened.
Sam and Frank stood like human statues. Clasped hand to wrist, their
sunburned arms looked strong and secure.
Presently there was a fluttering in the leaves--a slide through the
branches and Cora dropped--down on the human net of arms, safe, and
seemingly sound, but too weak to recover herself at once from the
strange position.
Gently as could a woman, these farm hands lowered their burden to the
soft bed of moss at their feet. Belle and Bess leaned over the quiet
form, while Hope hurried to the stream below for some water, which she
quickly brought in the strong cup improvised from her stiffened
sunbonnet.
"This is spring water," she said. "Swallow a few mouthsfull."
Cora opened her lips and sipped from the strange cup. Then she turned
and tried to rise, growing stronger each instant, and determined to
"pull herself together."
"Wasn't it silly?" she asked, finally.
"Wasn't it awful! Are you much hurt?" inquired Belle, fanning Cora
with her motor hood.
"Not a bit--that I can tell," she answered. "That natural--hammock--was a
miracle."
She attempted to rise, but fell back rather suddenly.
"I've got a twist somewhere," she said. "I think my shoulder is
sprained."
Without waiting to be asked to do so Frank, the younger of the farm
hands, put his arm about Cora's waist, and brought her to her feet.
"Oh, thank you," she stammered rather shyly. "I am sure you have
helped me wonderfully. I don't know how to thank you--all."
"You can stand, eh?" asked Mr. Stevens, satisfaction showing in his
voice, and ruddy face.
"I suppose you feel--that I should have taken your offer for the
horses?" she remarked with confusion.
"Well, there is always a first time," he replied, "but since you are
no worse off you must not complain. Guess the boys had better lift you
to the road. Then we will see if you can run your car."
Again, in that straightforward way, peculiar to those who know when
they're right and then go ahead, the "boys" simply picked Cora up, she
putting her arms over their shoulders, and while the three other girls
wended their way over the cliff, Cora was carried safely back to the
spot where still lay the helpless _Whirlwind_.