CHAPTER FOUR GETTING ACQUAINTED
It was a perfect autumn day, and he who has not been in the SierraNevada mountains on a golden October morning has not as yet known thefull joy of living.
Josephine Bayley had been advised to lock her door in order to keep out"snoopin' Indians." She had been shown through a field-glass a group ofmost dilapidated dwellings about a mile to the south and down in thecreek-bottom. These dwellings could not be called wigwams; indeed, theywere too nondescript really to be called anything. Some had a roughframework of saplings, with pine branches for a roof and walls; otherswere made of stones held together with mud, while still others were butshiftlessly erected tents, even discarded clothing having been used, andall were surrounded by rubbish and squalor. Thus the one-timepicturesqueness of the Washoe Indian has degenerated.
"They're curious and snoopin', those Indians are, but harmless," Mrs.Enterprise Twiggly had said, when advising Miss Bayley to keep her doorlocked while she was away.
The new teacher, lithe, dark, athletic, stepped springily down themountain road, feeling as though she must sing with a lark that wassomewhere over in a clump of murmuring pines. But the first note of thesong died on her lips as she suddenly stopped and gazed ahead of her.
Had that stone in the road moved, or was it her imagination? She gazedfascinated. Was it about to uncoil and raise a protesting head?Gracious! What was it she had heard about rattlers? When they coiled,they could spring--how far--was it twice the length of their own bodies?Did one have to measure them to know how far away one could stand insafety? If they were straight out, one always had time to escape, forthey had to coil to strike. But the large round stone that did lookstrangely like a coiled snake did not stir, not even when a smaller rockwas thrown at it.
Miss Bayley, laughing at her own fears, looked down the canyon road aheadof her, where she beheld a little procession approaching. A light ofrecognition brightened her dark eyes. "Oh, I am so glad!" she thought."Here come the children of Ophelia."
A queer-looking group they made. There was a soft mouse-colored burro,and on it sat a truly beautiful little girl of eight years, holding infront of her a chubby four-year-old boy, who was beaming with delight. Atall, lank lad, with a staff in one hand, was guiding the beast ofburden, while on the other side, with pride shining in her eyes, thatwere a warm golden-brown, walked the little mother of them all, DixieMartin. She was carrying a basket that held their lunch and leading avery small, long-legged goat that had a red ribbon tied about its neck.
As they emerged from the dark canyon road into the full sunlight beyondthe great old pines they beheld for the first time their new teacher.They knew at once that it must be she, and Ken snatched off his cap,while little Carolina, slipping from the back of the burro, made agraceful curtsy, just as her mother had trained her to do from babyhood.Dixie, too, had been trained, but she was a Martin, and did not take topolishing as readily as did Carol.
The new teacher hurried forward with hands outstretched. She actuallyforgot to examine the stones in the road that might be coiled snakes.
"Oh, you dear little pupils of mine!" she exclaimed. "You are the fourMartins, aren't you?"
"Yes, ma'am, we are," was the chorused reply; and then it was that MissBayley recalled that even the best people in the South say "ma'am."
Carolina, wishing to shine, stepped forward and said: "I'll introduceus, shall I? This is my big sister, Dixie Martin, and our baby brother,Jimmy-Boy." Then the small girl held herself proudly, as the mother haddone, as she added, "His real name is James Haddington-Allen Martin,after our aunt who is blue-blooded in the South."
There was a sudden flush in the freckled face of the older girl, and shehastened to say apologetically: "Miss Bayley, please pardon my littlesister for saying that. I've told her time and again that when folks aretruly blue-blooded it shows without their telling it." Then she added,as she nodded toward the boy who stood waiting his turn, "This is ourbig brother, Ken, and I guess that's all the introducing, unless Pegasusought to be mentioned."
"Pegasus?" the new teacher repeated as she gazed at the stolid littleburro and marveled. "Pray, what do you kiddies know about Pegasus?" Evenas she spoke she realized that much that was unusual might be expectedfrom the children of Ophelia.
It was Dixie who said eagerly, "Oh, our beautiful mother wrote theloveliest poetry, and she used to say that the wonderful winged horse,Pegasus, carried her to the Land of Inspiration."
Miss Bayley noticed that the small goat had not been introduced. Ken,believing that the moment for the presentation was at hand, took theleading-rope from his sister, and, stepping forward, he said, almostshyly: "Miss Bayley, teacher, we fetched along Star-White as yourpresent. We thought maybe you'd like him for a pet."
It had been said of Miss Josephine Bayley that she could rise to anyoccasion without evidencing surprise or dismay, and she surely did atthis moment. Luckily, her practice-work on the East Side in New York hadtaught her to expect the most extraordinary gifts from her pupils.
The four pairs of eyes watched anxiously for a moment. _Would "newteacher" like their present?_
Their doubts were quickly put to flight, for Miss Josephine Bayleystooped and caressed the long-legged, rather startled kid as she saidwith a ring of real enthusiasm in her voice: "You dear Star-White,you're as nice as you can be. I just know that I'm going to love you."Then, rising, she held out a hand to the two who were nearest, but theothers were included in her smiling glance as she said: "Thank you somuch, dears. It was ever so kind of you to want to make me happy." Then,a little helplessly, she appealed to the older boy as she asked, "Whatshall we do with Star-White now?"
"I'll tie him up in the shed back o' your cabin, Miss Bayley. He'll beall right in there."
The lad skipped ahead, the kid in his arms, but returned in anincredibly short time.
The procession had continued on its way, and Ken soon remarked, "There'sthe schoolhouse, teacher, down the piney lane, and I think there's folkswaiting to see you."
Miss Bayley turned and saw, back from the road and on a short lane, alog schoolhouse half hidden by great old pines. In front of it stood avery fine carriage drawn by two milk-white horses. At their heads astocky man with a stubby red beard and a keen, alert, red-brown eyeawaited her. He was the "board of education," of that Miss Bayley wassure, while on the back seat of the vehicle, with her bonneted head heldhigh, sat no less a personage than Mrs. Sethibald Archer, and at herside, also with her head held high, was a much-beruffled young girl,aged eight years, who was of course the prettiest and smartest child inthe school. Miss Bayley assured herself that she mustn't forget that,not for one moment, if she wanted to stay, and, oh, how she did want tostay and get acquainted with the wonderful mountains, and the Martins,and maybe even with the Indians who lived down in the creek-bottom!
All this she thought as she walked up the little lane toward the old logschoolhouse.
Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford's Cañon Page 5