CHAPTER XII
THE EDGY-EDGE!
Dorothy stood and looked down. It was a very steep descent, and thebottom, a black sheet of water, that looked like ink.
The danger of the spot seemed to fascinate her. Then the thought thatperhaps poor, wilful Tavia had fallen down such a place; that perhapsat that very moment, she lay alone, helpless, at the bottom of acliff!
"But there is a road down there," Dorothy mused. "I never would havethought to find a roadway along those rocks. Even the Indians, whovery likely, made most of these trails, might easily have found abetter and safer road to and from the same woodland ways."
Then she remembered that the lumbermen had use of streams in theirtraffic, and she decided that this was one of the roads made for theirlog teams.
Still fascinated with the danger, she looked over again. A suddendizziness seized her. She tried to step back, but the ledge seemed tocrumble beneath her feet!
Staring wildly at the black water below, she was pitchedforward--down, down, down!
Then she thought the water would save her; that it was not rough andsharp like the rocks! She thought she would rest awhile on that softbed! After that she ceased to think!
Dorothy Dale lay there alone, unconscious!
Trundling along the narrow roadway, old Josiah Hobbs and his wife,Samanthy, rode in their farm wagon. They had been to town with berriesand in the back of the covered vehicle the empty crates told quite asplainly as the contented smile on the wrinkled faces of the couple,that berries were in demand that morning, and that the Hobbs' kind hadmet a ready market.
Near the elbow in the lower road, at the foot of the precipice, wherelay so still the form of pretty Dorothy Dale, the old horse slowed up.Mrs. Hobbs saw the girl lying by the water's edge.
"Mercy on us, Josiah!" she cried. "It's a girl!"
"Sure as you live!" replied the old man, giving the reins a jerk."What can have happened to the little one?"
"Pray to goodness she ain't dead!" went on Samanthy. "Let me get toher!" and before her husband could straighten his cramped limbs, shehad crawled out, and was beside Dorothy.
"Is she?" asked Josiah, hesitating.
"She is," replied the wife. The pair seemed to define each other'smeaning in spite of the vagueness of their words.
"But she's awful weakish," whispered the wife. "We got to get hersomewhere."
"Samanthy!" and the farmer's voice trembled, "mebby she the gal fromthe asylum! She that escaped! Let's load her up on the cart and fetchher home."
"You old skinflint! To cal'late on the half-dead girl," and she raisedDorothy's head tenderly. "But all the same she got to get somewhere,and ours is as near as any other house. Here, take hold," she put herarms about the helpless form. "Mercy on us! Lucky if she don't diebefore we get her there. Make that horse know he's to go. If that whipwon't do, yank up a tree and let him have it."
The farmer trembled visibly as he helped put poor Dorothy in thewagon. If she could only have known!
The woman dragged off her apron and her jacket to make something of apillow for the pretty yellow head, that lay so still. SuddenlyDorothy opened her eyes.
"As sure as you live," whispered Samanthy, "It _is_ that girl from thesan--sanitation! I saw her once out with the nurse, and this is her!"
"And there's a reward----"
"Shet up!" she snapped. "Lay still, dearie. You're awful weak andwe're taking you home."
"Home!" murmured Dorothy in a dazed way.
"Yes, to mommer and popper!" This from the farmer.
"Shet up, you, Josiah! How do you know she wants to go to them folks!There, dearie, is your head hurt?"
Dorothy only moaned and closed her eyes again.
"Heven't you got a drop of anything? Not even a peppermint? I told younot to eat them all at a gullup," growled the woman. "I never saw thelike of you fer gluttonin', Josiah!"
"And I never saw the beat of you fer growlin'. How do you feel,missy?"
"Will--you--shet--up? Josiah Hobbs! Don't you see she's sleepin' likea babe?"
"And do you think it's her? The one from the sanitation?"
"Shet up!"
"And there's a lot of money in that. Well, we need it."
Mrs. Samanthy Hobbs simply pulled the farmer's long shaggy beard thatbobbed up and down, goat fashion. Her "shet-ups" seemed exhausted.
Dorothy heard a little--she could hear the rumble of the wagon, andshe could feel the hard, rough, but kind hand of the woman whosmoothed her brow in a motherly way. That in itself was enough to makeher close her eyes and feel content.
What a power is the hand of woman! Even though it be hardened by thehardest kind of work it has in it the magic stroke of tenderness.
"Now, there," Samanthy would murmur, "soon you will be in bed. Then wewill fix you all up nice."
Bed! Dorothy thought she was in bed--it was so much better than thestones, and that black water.
But she was getting her senses and with them came pain. Her head hurt,and the wagon jolted so that she was sore all over.
"We have only a few more trots, then we will be at home," soothedSamanthy. "After that you kin sleep in a feather bed--as soft as yourown white hands."
She was smoothing those hands--they were very white, and very soft.What had turned Dorothy Dale's camping days into this tragedy? Wherewas Tavia? And what was to become of Dorothy?
Strange how illness melts the strongest! Dorothy just wanted torest--to rest--yes, to rest!
At the dingy back door, the old horse stopped. The farmer and his wifealmost carried Dorothy in, and the strain made her close her eyesagain; made her forget everything.
After much talk between the farmer and his wife, and many contrarydirections, Dorothy was finally enveloped in a nightdress that evenTavia in her palmiest days could not have anticipated. It was big, itwas broad, it was long, and it was roomy!
But it was sweet and clean, and Dorothy closed her eyes directly afterSamanthy Hobbs put to her lips a drink of catnip tea!
"She's the girl from the asylum," whispered the farmer's wife. "Jestkeep still and we will git her back all right."
Dorothy Dale's Camping Days Page 13