UP THE MOUNTAIN
For several days after the hazing, fellows――many of whom were only
dimly familiar to Evan――accosted him as he passed with such remarks as:
“Kick it again, Kingsford!” or, “Sixty yards easy that time!” But it
was all good-natured, and Evan only smiled and went on, and presently
the joke died out. It was a very busy first week of school for Evan.
In the first place, it was no easy matter to get shaken down to his
studies, many of which were either quite new to him or presented in an
entirely new way. And there was daily practice on the gridiron after
recitation hours, and plenty of hard work in the shape of study in the
evenings. But there was fun too, and, on one occasion at least, even
adventure.
It was Malcolm Warne who suggested the trip up Graytop. Football
practice was over and as Evan started up the slope toward the
gymnasium he encountered Malcolm and Rob. Rob was lazing along with his
hands in his pockets and a good-natured grin on his face, and Malcolm
was talking earnestly to him as though striving to arouse him from his
mental indolence. It was Rob who called to Evan.
“Hello, there, you Evan! Come over here.”
“I’ve got to change.”
“What of it?” asked Rob. “You can stop a minute, can’t you? What do you
suppose this chump wants to do? You’d never guess!”
“I’m not even going to try,” replied Evan, with a glance at Malcolm’s
amused countenance. “I’m too tired.”
“Well, he wants to climb Graytop.”
“Does he?” Evan turned and let his gaze travel up the side of the
mountain. “Why not?”
“I guess you never tried it,” said Rob. “Moreover, he wants us to go
with him.”
“Now?” asked Evan, startled.
“No, to-morrow,” answered Malcolm. “It’s Saturday, you know. We can
start in the morning, take some grub and cook dinner on the top. It’s a
lot of fun. Rob is such a lazy-bones that he thinks he can’t climb it.”
“Me?” said Rob indignantly. “Why, I’ve been up there a half-dozen
times. It’s one of the easiest things I do. I was only considering
Evan. He’s young and tender and it’s a hard climb up there. You don’t
want to go, do you, Evan?”
“Sure I do,” answered his room-mate heartily. “I should think it would
be lots of fun. I love to picnic on mountain-tops.”
“Well, I’m not going to lug the basket,” sighed Rob.
“We won’t take any basket,” explained Malcolm. “I know a trick worth
two of that. We’ll divide the stuff into three lots and each of us will
take our share in a pack.”
“A what?”
“A pack; done up in a bundle and tied on our backs.”
“You must think I’m a mule,” Rob grumbled. “All right, though, I don’t
want to spoil anyone’s fun.”
And so it was finally settled that they were to start out bright and
early after breakfast the next morning. The matter of rations was left
to Malcolm because, as Rob put it, he could look pathetic and move the
cook’s heart. It was necessary to obtain permission for the expedition
and Rob attended to that that evening.
“I told Doc,” he related after supper, “that we were taking Evan up
to show him the beauties of the surrounding country. And Doc was
real pleased; said it was very thoughtful of me and showed a nice
disposition. I guess I made a hit all right.”
“What are we going to take to eat?” asked Evan.
“Steak and potatoes and bread and coffee,” answered Malcolm. “We’ll
broil the steak over the fire and bake the potatoes――”
“And boil the bread and toast the coffee,” interrupted Rob flippantly.
“You talk like a guinea-pig, Mal! Isn’t there going to be any pie or
doughnuts?”
“Yes, if I can raise them.”
“I hope you can. Doughnuts ought to be raised, oughtn’t they? I’ll
carry the doughnuts because they’ll be light.”
“You’re an idiot,” laughed Malcolm. “We’ll have to take a coffee-pot
along, too. Last year some of us went up there and took a lot of coffee
and forgot the pot.”
“And this is the chap to whom we are going to entrust our young and
innocent lives!” exclaimed Rob dejectedly. “A chap who has a record
like that! I refuse to go along!”
“Oh, you’ll go all right enough when you see the steak and things I’ll
get,” scoffed Malcolm.
“Huh! I know all about picnic steak. It’s burned black on the outside
and is all red and raw in the middle. And it tastes of smoke.”
“Not the way I cook it,” laughed the other. “You wait.”
“Oh, I suppose you do it in a chafing-dish! The worst of it is,
fellows, that after you’ve climbed up there you’re so hungry that you
can eat anything. Last time I went up I had to gnaw the bark off the
trees for the last half-mile to keep up my strength.”
“I wondered who had been blazing the trees up there,” said Malcolm
innocently.
“Somebody’s telling whoppers,” laughed Evan, “for I can see from down
here that there aren’t any trees on the top.”
“There were, but Rob ate them all down! Well, nine o’clock sharp, you
fellows――don’t forget.”
Rob groaned.
“Forget! I wish I could. I shall dream of it all night. If I have the
nightmare, Evan, please wake me up.”
“You have something that sounds like a nightmare about every night,”
answered Evan dryly. “You’re lucky you didn’t get in here with him,
Malcolm. He’s the noisiest brute when he’s asleep I ever heard.”
“I don’t believe it!” said Rob indignantly. “I never hear a sound!”
“Because you’re making too much noise.”
“He’s probably inventing things in his sleep,” Malcolm laughed from the
doorway. “Good-night.”
“Good-night. By the way, Doc says we must be careful about fires up
there, because things are so dry. Guess he’s afraid you’ll burn the old
mountain down, Mal. Well, see you in the morning.”
When morning came, and when Evan, after lying half awake for a time
with the consciousness of being disagreeably chilly, finally dropped
himself on his elbow and glanced toward the windows, it seemed that
the weather didn’t approve of the expedition, for the morning world
was gray and damp and cold. The wind was blowing out of the east and a
thin fog drifted in from the bay. Evan fumbled for his watch and found
that it was time to get up. But the idea of arising in his pajamas and
putting down the window didn’t appeal to him, so he huddled himself
under the blanket again and called to Rob.
“O Rob! Time to get up!”
There was no answer from across the room, however, and Evan tried again.
“O Rob! Get up, you lazy beggar, and close the window!”
There was a grunt and Rob flopped over and flattened himself out more
comfortably, with his face buried in his arm.
Evan threw a pillow across, but missed. A second landed on Rob’s head,
but only drew a grunt.
“Sluggard!” muttered Evan contemptuously.
With both pillows gone he could no longer be comfortable, and so, after
a minute’s hesitation, he scrambled out of bed and dashed across to
the window and sent it down with a crash loud enough to awaken anybody
but Rob. Shivering, Evan got some of his clothes on. Then he pulled
blanket and sheet from the slumberer and gleefully watched results. Rob
drew his legs up with a protesting murmur and sleepily groped for the
bed-clothes. Not finding them, he opened one eye and discovered his
plight. Then he opened the other eye and regarded Evan blinkingly.
“Huh?” he muttered inquiringly.
“Get up,” said Evan sternly.
“Huh?” Rob’s eyes closed slowly.
“Get up, you silly chump. Don’t you know you’re freezing?”
“Yes, I――know.” Rob made a supreme effort and turned over. “What time
is it?”
Evan told him. “And look at the weather,” he added. “Isn’t it rank?”
Rob cast an uninterested glance toward the windows and then sighed and
arose.
“Gee, but it’s cold!” he muttered as he went over and regarded the gray
and misty landscape. “What rotten weather,” he sighed. “Still, it’s
mostly fog and maybe it will burn off before long.”
“I suppose we might leave our climb for another day,” Evan suggested.
“Oh, this isn’t bad. I rather like a cloudy day. Besides, it will be
cooler, and climbing that old hill is rather warm work.”
“Thought you didn’t want to go.”
“Well, when I once make up my mind that a thing has to be done,”
responded Rob as he splashed and spluttered over the basin, “I like to
do it and get it over with. Br-r-rr! This water feels as though it had
ice in it.... Besides, Mal would be disappointed.”
“All right; I’m game,” Evan assented.
They were ready to start shortly after nine. Malcolm had secured his
provisions and had discovered a potato-sack in the cellar. This he cut
into three squares. Then he divided the load and wrapped the portions
up in the pieces of sacking. These were tied to the shoulders of the
three members of the expedition with pieces of twine. As they started
off towards the Doctor’s cottage they created quite a sensation among
the fellows they met and were the recipients of many inquiries, while
humorous comments on their appearance were not wanting. Mr. George
Washington Jell hailed them from the steps of Academy and hurried after
them.
“Where are you fellows going?” he asked. “Up Graytop?”
“We are,” replied Rob soberly.
“Let me go, will you, Rob?”
“No, Jelly, I will not.”
“Oh, go ahead! Why not?”
“Because I have some consideration for your welfare, Jelly. You’d be
just skin and bones by the time you got to the top――if you ever did!
And besides, I have troubles of my own, Jelly, and can’t stop to pull
you over the rocks or carry you in my arms when you get tired.”
“I won’t get tired, honest, Rob. I’m a dandy climber!”
“You look it,” laughed Malcolm.
“You don’t mind if I go, do you?” asked Jelly, turning his attention
eagerly to Malcolm.
“Indeed I do, Jelly. You see, we have only an ordinary amount of food
with us, and either you’d starve or we would.”
“If you’ll just walk slow I’ll run back and get some more,” said Jelly.
“It won’t take me but a minute. Go on, Rob, let me go along.”
Rob looked inquiringly at Malcolm and Evan. Evan laughed.
“Let him come, Rob,” he said. “The more the merrier. But he _will_ have
to get some more grub.”
“We-ll,” began Rob. But Jelly was already hurrying back toward the
kitchen. “I suppose we might as well take him,” said Rob. “He’s a
decent chap. But he will be just about all in by the time he gets up.
We’ll go ahead slow and let him catch up to us.”
But by the time they had reached the first ascent it was evident that
if they were to have the pleasure of Mr. Jell’s society on the climb
they would have to wait for him. So they perched themselves on top of
the stone wall that divides the school property from the woods and
waited.
“Let’s cut some sticks,” suggested Malcolm. “They help a lot until you
get to the rocks.”
“Right you are,” Rob agreed. “We must have some alpen-stocks. Who’s got
a good strong knife?”
Evan supplied that article, and they set out in search of suitable
branches for their purpose. By the time they had cut and trimmed four
stout sticks Jelly was in sight, toiling breathlessly up the slope with
a package wrapped in a flapping newspaper in one hand. When he reached
them he was so out of breath that they mercifully perched themselves on
the wall again and allowed him to recuperate.
“All I could get,” panted Jelly, “was bread and potatoes and six raw
eggs. Cook was grumpy as she could be. Said she’d given out all the
food she was going to. Said somebody had helped himself to a lot of
crullers from the pastry-room.”
Malcolm looked idly at the sky and hummed a song.
“I thought they were doughnuts,” murmured Rob.
“It was extremely thoughtless of ‘someone,’” said Evan. “I hope you
like eggs and potatoes, Jelly. You must be a vegetarian.”
“No, he’s a Presbyterian; aren’t you, Jelly?” said Rob.
“Don’t you worry about me,” answered Jelly with a grin. “I swiped a
pair of chops when cook wasn’t looking. I _think_ they’re veal.”
“A pair!” laughed Malcolm. “How do you know they’re a pair? Wouldn’t it
be awful if you’d got two rights or two lefts, Jelly?”
“Let us hope they’re not veal,” said Rob gravely, “because you have to
bread veal chops and serve them with tomato sauce, and our culinary
arrangements are extremely limited.”
“It was very, very wrong of you,” observed Malcolm sternly, “to steal
chops from dear cook. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you choked
yourself on the bones.”
“Aren’t any bones,” replied Jelly triumphantly. “They’re all meat.
Besides, you swiped the crullers.”
“Not at all,” answered Malcolm calmly. “The crullers were lying there
in a big pan and I merely helped myself to our share instead of waiting
until dinner-time.”
“Well, I just took my chops instead of waiting,” responded Jelly.
“I have a feeling,” said Rob, “that this excursion is going to end in
disaster. The presence of a thief in our midst will certainly work us
ill. However, as I am particularly fond of eggs, Jelly, we won’t send
you back. You may come along if you will promise never to steal a pair
of veal chops again. And now, if you have sufficiently recovered your
breath, we will proceed. Where’s my alpen-stock? Ah, here it is. I love
my little alpen-stock.”
It was not hard work for the first quarter of a mile, for the ascent
through the maple woods was easy and there was a well-defined path to
follow. The path led around the right elbow of the hill and in the
course of time reached the summit from the farther side. But to make
the ascent by the path was not considered “sporty” at Riverport, and
presently, when the maples had given place to black and yellow birches
and oaks and ashes, Malcolm, who was in the lead, swung away from the
path and started almost straight up the mountain. The alpen-stocks
proved their value now and it wasn’t long before the four boys were
puffing like porpoises and the muscles of their legs were protesting
vehemently. Jelly was soon occupying a position well in the rear, the
perspiration trickling down his face and the sound of his breathing
reaching the others like the exhaust of the steam pump in the boiler
house at school. He held his precious parcel of rations in one hand
and used his stick with the other, and there were times when he wished
heartily for a third. The clouds still hid the sun, but the morning had
grown warmer, and here in the woods what breeze there was failed to
penetrate. Suddenly there was a cry of dismay from Jelly and the others
turned anxiously.
“What’s the matter?” called Evan.
Jelly, some twenty yards down the slope, was dimly visible through the
trees. He was stooping over his bundle and pulling the paper away with
frantic anxiety.
“Anything wrong?” called Rob.
“Wrong!” shouted Jelly at last in a despairing voice. “My bundle’s
leaking! I’ve lost both chops and two eggs and a whole lot of
potatoes!”