CHAPTER XX.
On a low point of land formed by a bend in the Willamette, a couple ofboys were playing at what is termed "skipping." The exercise consistedin throwing a stone so as to make it skim along the surface of thewater in a series of long skips, the greater number of skips attestingthe skill of the thrower. The surface of the river was very smooth andplacid, which was a factor in tempting the boys to the exercise. Theyhad been at it for some time and, boy-like, in their enthusiasm, hadoverdone it, and consequently were beginning to fag, when one of themsuddenly spied an exceptionally smooth, round flat stone, suitable forthe purpose, and stooped to pick it up. The other boy, a shortdistance behind him, seeing his opportunity, cried out in afrolicksome spirit:
"Hi! Gene! Hold, there." And he immediately ran and, placing his twohands on the stooping boy's back, lightly leaped over him, straddlefashion, and then himself took a stooping position further on, subjectto a like performance.
At once the sport known as "leap-frog" was entered into with zest bythe boys. It carried them some distance along the river shore, andthey were so engrossed with the new exercise, which sustained in theircase, at all events, the old adage that, "A change of occupation is agood recreation," as to be entirely oblivious of approaching asolitary woman dressed in sober gray, sitting on a stump of driftwoodnear the water's edge and gazing vacantly on the river.
One of the boys, named Gene, big-limbed, loose-jointed and clumsy, indoing his turn, and while astraddle the "frog," lost his balance andtumbled sideways, dragging the under boy over with him. The smallerboy, named Spike, got to his feet first, and with a fire in his eye,angrily said: "Youse do it again and I'll smash you one."
"I couldn't help it. It was your fault, anyway, Why didn't you holdsteady," replied Gene.
"You big lubber; youse done it on purpose." said Spike, rubbing hisshin. "I'm not going to play any more," and as he turned away,muttered to himself: "I've a notion to soak him one."
"Oh, look!" cried Gene. "A woman's agoing in swimming with her clotheson!" The boys at once forgot their differences, drew close togetherand watched her with much curiosity.
"Say, but the water is cold. I was in yesterday and couldn't stay aminute," said Gene. "Gee, but I got my clothes on quick! I was nearfroze."
"She's skeart already; see how she's looking about--must-a lostsomethin'."
"Let's ask her," said Gene.
"Youse shut up, won't you."
"She's saying something. Hear?"
"Sounds like 'Dorothy,'" said Spike. "Look at her dig them hands inthe water."
"Say, she's crazy, sure!" whispered Gene.
At which they drew back awe-struck, yet fascinated by the grotesquebuffoonery inseparable from the insane.
"Somebody'd better go and phone the cops," whispered Spike, excitedly."She'll get drowned, and then we'll get in a bar'l of trubble."
"I'll go," said Gene, half frightened, and glad of an excuse to getaway from the uncanny spectacle. "Who's got a phone near here?" heasked.
"Up at the big house, yonder. Harris'. They's got one, but youse don'twant to leave me here alone with that crazy woman. She's comingashore. Kin youse hear what she's saying?" They listened intently.
"I'm sure I saw her," she said in tones strangely pitiful. "Her goldenhair floated on the surface like a silken mesh--then sank down,down--ah, there it is again." And she outstretched her hand and triedto grasp something.
"Gone again! Oh! I wish someone would help me get her. I am so tiredand the river is so deep and cold," and as she stepped out from thewater onto the shingle, her frame shivered as with a chill. She sat onthe stump of driftwood, fatigued by exertion.
"Let's go and talk to her," whispered Gene.
"Youse better not. Youse can't tell what them crazy people will dosometimes. They ack queer mighty sudden."
"Say! She wouldn't hurt anything. Ain't she nice looking! I'll bet shewas kind when she was all right," said Gene.
"Talks of golden hair. Must be her baby drowned has made her crazy,"said Spike.
"I'm going to speak to her, anyway," and so saying, Gene boldlyapproached her.
"Say, lady! What are you looking for?" he asked, as he timidly stoodin front of her.
"Dorothy," she softly answered, and then slowly shifted her wistfuleyes from the water to the boys.
"Whose Dorothy?" asked Spike, with an air of quiet respect, as hejoined Gene and stood in front of her.
"The sweetest babe in all the world. See, in this--her likeness," andshe drew from the bosom of her dress a medallion and held it for theboys to look at.
"Sure! She's a beaut!" exclaimed Spike, admiringly.
"Say, that picture is just like you," remarked Gene, looking over themedallion at the face before him.
"Yous dress is wet, Missus," said Spike.
"Were you looking for your baby there?" queried Gene, nodding towardthe river.
She suddenly arose to her feet and listened, meanwhile tenderlyreplacing the medallion in her corsage.
"I must not rest longer. The storm will soon be on us. The boatrocks."
She paused in a listening attitude: "Her voice! I hear it again. Sheis calling, 'Mamma, papa, help! Save me!' There! There!"--and shepointed over the water. "See that golden web glistening in thesunshine. It's her hair. She's beckoning me! Give me the paddles!--thepaddles, quick!" And then she cried out with a gasp that sounded verymuch like a sob: "Save Dorothy!"
An Oregon Girl: A Tale of American Life in the New West Page 26