“You may go, if you choose, but I advise you not to.”
“Why do you advise us not to?” said Rollo.
“Why, you may get into some difficulty, and so we get separated.”
“Yes, but,” said Rollo, “it is not near so far across, and we shall
have time to get through to the mill long before you come along.”
“Very well, you may do as you please.”
“Jonas, what would you do? Would you go, or not?”
“I think I would _not_ go, if your father thinks we had better not.”
“I want to go very much,” said Rollo.
“Very well,” said his father; “you are willing to go with him, I
suppose, Jonas, are you not?”
“O yes, sir,” said Jonas.
“Well,” said Rollo, “let us go. We will he very careful, father, not to
get into any difficulty.”
So the two chaises rode on, and Jonas and Rollo, in a few minutes,
turned off by a narrow path that struck into the woods. Just as they
were bending down their heads to pass under a great branch of a tree,
Rollo looked along, and saw Lucy waving her handkerchief to him, as the
chaise which she was in disappeared by a turn of the road.
Rollo at first felt a little uneasy to think that he had deserted his
cousin, as it were. He thought that he should not have liked it
exactly, if she had gone off, and left him alone so in the chaise.
However, it was now too late to repent, and his attention was attracted
by the wild and romantic scene around him. The path descended
obliquely, by a rough, wet, and stony way, through a dark forest. He
heard the sighing of the wind, in the tops of the tall trees, and the
mellow notes of forest birds, far off, and high, which came rich and
sweet to his ear with a peculiar expression of solitude and loneliness.
The boys rode on, and the path became more and more slippery, stony,
and steep Rollo clung tight to Jonas, and begun to be somewhat afraid.
He would have proposed to go back, but he was ashamed to do it. After a
little time, he asked Jonas whether the path was as bad as that all the
way.
“As bad as this!” said Jonas; “we call this very good. I will show you
the bad road pretty soon.”
Rollo looked frightened, but said nothing.
“The road seems more wet than common to-day,” said Jonas, “I suppose on
account of the rain yesterday; and I declare,” said he, “I am afraid we
shall find the brook up.”
“The brook up!” said Rollo.
“Yes—why did not I think of that before? However, we must go on now.”
“Why?” said Rollo. “Why cannot we go back?”
“O, because we should be too late; besides, there is no danger, only we
may have to wade a little.”
As they went on, the mud in the road grew deeper and deeper, and
presently Old Trumpeter’s legs sunk far down among roots and mire.
Rollo began to feel more and more alarmed, and heartily wished that he
had taken his father’s advice.
Soon alter they came to a place where the path, for some distance
before them, was full of water, deep and miry. Jonas said he thought
that they had better go out upon one side; so he made the horse step
over a log and go in among the trees and bushes. The branches brushed
and scratched Rollo unmercifully, though he bent down, and leaned over
to this side and that, continually, to escape them. He asked Jonas why
this path had not dried, as well as the main road, where the chaises
had gone; and Jonas told him that the sun and the wind were the great
means of drying the open road, but that this narrow and secluded path
was shaded from the sun, and sheltered from the wind, and that the
water consequently remained a long time among the moss, and roots, and
mire.
After a time, they got back into the path again, and, going on a little
farther, they came down to the margin of the brook. They found that it
_was_ “up,” as Jonas had feared. At the place where the path went down
and crossed the brook, a deep cut had been worn in the two opposite
banks, and this was filled with water, and above and below the stream
rushed on in a torrent. Jonas hesitated a moment, and then asked Rollo
if he thought he could hold on, while they we’re riding through. Rollo
said he was afraid it was so deep as to drown them. Jonas then said
that he might get off and stand upon a rock by the side of the path,
while he rode through, first, to see how it was, and that then he would
come back for him.
So Rollo got off, in fear and trembling, and stood on the rock, while
Jonas urged his horse into the water. Old Trumpeter did not much like
this kind of travelling, but Jonas half persuaded and half compelled
him to go through. When he was in the middle, the water came up so
high, that Jonas was obliged to lift up his feet to keep them from
being wet. Presently, however, it became more shoal, as the horse
walked slowly along; and at last he fairly reached the dry ground, and
stood dripping on the bank.
Rollo was glad to see that the water was no deeper, but was still
afraid to go over. He told Jonas he _could not_ go over I here, and
that he _must_ go back with him.
“No,” said Jonas, “that would not be right.”
“Why,” said Rollo, “we can ride fast, and overtake them.”
“Not very soon,” said Jonas. “If we go back now, they will get to the
mill before us, and then will be very anxious and unhappy, thinking
that something has happened to us; and perhaps your father will come
through here after us. Now it was your own plan, coming across here,
and you ought not to make other people suffer by it. Your father
advised you not to come.”
“I know it,” said Rollo; “what a foolish boy I was! I shall certainly
be drowned.”
“O no,” said Jonas, “there is no real danger, or I should not make you
go;” and so saying, he came back slowly through the water. “See,” said
he, “it is not very deep.”