CHAPTER XII--THE WILD FLOWER HIKE
"Oh, it's the crazy man!" came with a flash into Nathalie's mind. Whatshould she do? If she could only take off that horrible bandage from hereyes!
"Oh, don't be frightened!" exclaimed the princess with a merry laugh asshe saw her companion cower in her chair. "It's only Jimmie! Jimmie,stop that racket!" she continued with a loud clap of her hands. ButJimmie, whoever he was, only replied with another agonizing shriek. Thistime the princess called angrily, "Mamma, come and make Jimmie stop hisshrieking. Miss Page is awfully frightened!"
Nathalie, as she heard the foregoing explanation, and realized that itwas not an insane person screaming, gave a hysterical gasp and turnedher head in the direction of the shrieks, but alas! her blinders, like ablack wall, barred her vision.
A few hurried steps, a scuffle evidently, accompanied by the loudflapping of wings, and then a jumble of French, Spanish, and English,jabbered in defiant rage, revealed that Jimmie was a cockatoo!
"Oh, don't be frightened!" exclaimed the princess, witha merry laugh.]
But Jimmie, determined not to be worsted in his fight to be heard, withmuch loudness and clearness of note now broke into "In the Sweet Bye andBye." This sudden transition from the terrestrial to the celestialproved too much for Jimmie's audience, and peals of laughter rang out,in which Nathalie's treble and the doctor's deeper note mingled with thecockatoo's song. Jimmie, thinking he was winning an encore, started inwith "Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a thief--" but this time he wassummarily thrust from the room by an attendant--amid jabbering protests.
The doctor now reminded Nathalie that they must be going, as he had animportant case on hand; he had waited for her, he explained, knowingthat she would be unable to manage alone with her blinders, as he calledthe handkerchief.
As Nathalie rose to go the princess seized her hand, crying, "No, youshall not go. You have only been here a few moments!" Notwithstandingher mother's admonition that the doctor must not be detained, theinvalid persisted in clutching her new friend's hand in a vise-likegrip, much to her embarrassment. Finding, however, that she was not tohave her way, the princess broke forth into a low whimpering.
Nathalie stood still, and then feeling ashamed that a girl of her ageshould act the part of a child of five, endeavored to persuade her tolet her go, promising to come again soon. She met with no success, anddriven desperate by the command, "Come, Nathalie, we must go!" sheroughly pulled her hand away. Whereupon, the whimpering cries of theprincess degenerated into shrieks of rage, so prolonged and shrill thatNathalie, with a thrill of surprise, immediately recognized from whomJimmie had learned his shrieks.
As the car sped swiftly along in the direction of home, after the blackhandkerchief had been relegated to the doctor's pocket again, Nathaliesuddenly reddened furiously, looked queer for a moment, and then burstinto stifled laughter, much to the doctor's amusement, who was gravelywatching her.
"Hello!" he cried at length, "what's up?" after his companion had madeone or two ineffectual efforts to control her risibility.
But at last she sobered, and with the tears still in her eyes told howshe and Grace had been sent by Mrs. Morrow a short time before--todeliver a letter to Mrs. Van Vorst, and how when they were waiting inthe reception room they had heard those same terrible shrieks andfrenzied laughter that Jimmie had emitted that morning, and, thinkingthat it was an insane person, they had run for their lives.
"O dear," she gasped hysterically, "what a joke on Grace and me! Tothink of our running away when it was only a cockatoo! Oh, what sillieswe were!"
"I agree with you," returned the doctor so solemnly that the girlflushed and looked at him quickly with shamed eyes, but his humoroustwinkle did not agree with his blunt assurance, so Nathalie'sself-esteem suffered no wound.
"You know where you were then to-day?" questioned the doctor slowlyafter a pause.
"Oh, yes, at the house of the Mystic!"
"The house of the Mystic?" with some astonishment.
"Oh, that is the name the girls have given Mrs. Van Vorst because sheacts so queerly. She has been very disagreeable to the Pioneers, theyclaim, refusing to let them drill on the lawn in the rear of her house.The girls say she hates young people, and then she always dresses soqueerly in gray, too. She has shrouded herself in mystery by shuttingherself up in that big gray house behind those walls. Edith Whitoninsists that there is an insane person in the house and that he chasedher the day of the Pilgrim Rally."
"An insane person! There is no insane person in the house. That isnonsense, and should not be repeated!" exclaimed the doctor in anannoyed tone.
"Yes, I know, but the girls believe Edith, and so did I until to-day.But Grace and I have never told a soul what we heard, only Mrs. Morrow.But, oh, Doctor," she cried impulsively, "can't I tell Grace about thecockatoo? I will tell her not to tell a living soul," she endedearnestly.
"No," returned the doctor decidedly, "Miss Grace is all right, but shemight let it out in her sleep. No, you wait, and some time you girls canhave the best laugh ever, as my kiddies say."
So the story of Nathalie's visit to the princess in the tower was burieddeep within her heart, although it came very near being unearthedseveral times when she was in the company of Grace or Helen, for really,it was hard to keep it a secret when it was such a good joke.
Saturday, the day of the wild-flower hike, was warm and sunshiny, withthe balminess of summer in its gently wafting breezes. Every one presentwas filled with the anticipation that they were going to have a "dandytime."
"Are we all here?" questioned Mrs. Morrow, as she stood on the verandasteps, craning her neck from one side to the other in the endeavor tosee that her bird groups were all there. In her natty khaki suit, withits red-banded sombrero and red tie, she looked as jaunty and young asthe Bluebirds, Bob Whites, and Orioles, who, with admiring eyes, watchedher as they stood lined up on the path with knapsacks, staffs, and allthe paraphernalia needed for the hike.
The several bird calls attested that the band were all on hand, and thenthey filed up on the veranda before their Director as lunch-baskets wereopened for inspection, so that she could see that each one had beenproperly prepared and was in a "relishy condition," as Helen explainedto Nathalie.
In a few moments the inspection was over and the girls tripped merrilydown the walk and out of the gate, making such a hubbub with the clatterof their tongues that the doctor, as he came hurriedly up the path,teasingly put his fingers in his ears in intimation that they weremaking undue clamor.
The Flower of the Family's knapsack bulged with a package of AuntJemima's Pancake Flour, suggestive of the flapjacks to be, while theEditor-in-chief, with a reporter-like air, carried a large note-bookunder her arm so as to feature the affair in the forthcoming "Pioneer."The Encyclopedia was lumbered with two musty volumes on flower lore, sheexplained, so as to be able to give all desired information on thevarious specimens that were to be gathered by the hikers.
The Pot-Boiler's knapsack was not only stuffed with severalmysterious-looking packages, but was glaringly conspicuous, that younglady, true to her name, having pasted a paper advertisement of an ironpot on its cover. The Sport carried a few garden implements: a smallshovel, a rake, and a hoe, with which to burrow in the ground for thosespecimens that grew in a brook or in the mossy hollows in the woods. TheTike, as the privileged fag, carried a basket to fill with wild-flowersto be distributed to the shut-ins of the town hospital on their return.
Each Pioneer, besides her lunch-box, carried a self-madenote-book--Nathalie had spent several hours making hers--with a pencilattached for her flower specimens, data, and so forth. Nathalie felt abit disappointed that she had not been able to buy a uniform, althoughHelen had said that it made no difference, for she noticed to her dismaythat she was the only Pioneer minus that very desirable accessory, dearto the heart of every hiker.
The girls had gone but half a block when a sudden cry of pleasurerippled through the line. Then, as one Pioneer, the
girls gave theircall in welcome to Dr. Homer, who, as Mrs. Morrow explained, was to takethe place usually occupied by her husband, when the Pioneers were on along hike.
The doctor responded by giving the Boy Scout salute as he stood a momentwith raised hat. When the girls filed by, to Nathalie's surprise hestepped to her side and asked, as he smiled in recognition, "May I havethe pleasure of hiking with you?"
Nathalie's cheeks bloomed pink at the remembrance of their last meeting,but her eyes brightened as she nodded an assent. Perhaps some of thegirls felt a little envious as they saw whom the doctor had selected forthe favor of his company, as he was a great favorite and had alwaysproved a delightful companion. But they quickly stifled any feeling thatjarred, as each one remembered that she had had her turn, and that nowit was Nathalie's opportunity to have this pleasure as the new Pioneer.
And Nathalie's turn added a zest and enjoyment to her first hike thatwas long remembered, for through Dr. Homer's kindness in imparting toher many stray bits of knowledge she was able to hide her greenness inwood-lore, bird-lore, and many of the activities in which the otherPioneers were so proficient.
The Pioneers had barely reached the open when the Sport and one of theOrioles were despatched by the Director to blaze a trail. In order togive this advance corps a chance to get ahead, the rest of the companyrested on the road, sitting down on the grass, or on some decayed treetrunk, while others practiced wall-scaling, among them Nathalie and thedoctor, the latter acting as their instructor.
This scaling feat meant stepping carefully upon the ledge of a stonewall that skirted the road, and then springing down as quickly andlightly as possible, so as not to dislodge stray stones and bring themrattling after one. This forerunner of other feats to come led thedoctor to tell how a Scout practiced wall-scaling; sometimes by standingon the shoulders of another Scout, and then climbing a high woodenfence, which was claimed by many to be a more difficult performance thanscaling a stone wall. This, of course, proved an incentive for the girlsto do their best, especially Nathalie, who as a city-bred girl did notwant to prove a laggard.
A few minutes later, as they resumed their tramp, Nathalie's face grewradiant as she suddenly spied a tree near with a penknife notch on thebark. "Oh, girls, here is the trail! Go this way!" she cried excitedly,pointing as she spoke to the notched sign of a twig bent at the end,making it look somewhat like the point of a broken arrow. As she wascoming to be a zealous student of the bent-twig signs, the trail-blazingsystem invented for the Pioneers, she explained a number of thesebent-twig signs to the doctor, who was deeply interested and not onlytold of the many signs used by the Scouts, but showed her the trees thatwere the easiest to cut.
Chatting, laughing, and singing--for the girls vied with the birds intheir joyousness that summer morning--making bird calls, alternating withnotch-making and flower-gathering made the time pass swiftly. The newPioneer was amazed when Dr. Homer pulled out his watch and looking athis pedometer said that they had walked four miles, and that in a shorttime they would hit the wood trail, where they were to camp for dinner.
Nathalie's flower-box was soon full of specimens that she had gatheredfrom the roadside and the meadow where her lesson in wall-scaling camein handy. Perhaps this wild flower hunt proved but a small part of herpleasure, for as she strolled along the doctor proved most companionableas he coached her in hike knowledge.
Never walk over anything you can go around, he had told her, and neverstep on anything you can step over, for every time you step on anythingyou lift the weight of your body, which makes more to carry whentramping. He also made her laugh heartily when he insisted uponexamining the footwear of the hikers, expounding as he did so upon thefoolishness of damsels in general, who would insist upon wearing shoeseither too big or too small for them. The small shoes, he said, crowdedthe feet, and the big ones added extra weight, and made them road-wearybefore the tramp was half over.
He also told her about the weather signs; a low cloud moving swiftlyindicated coolness; hard-edged clouds, wind; rolled or jagged clouds,strong wind; and a mackerel sky, a whole day of fair weather. Nathalie,perhaps to show this young man with the smiling gray eyes who looked atyou so fearlessly that she, too, did know just a tiny bit about weathersigns, sang softly:
"Hark to the East Wind's song from the sea, Blowing the misty clouds o'er lea; Shaking the sheaves of golden grain With the patter of the rain; Giving the earth a cooling drink, Washing the flow'rs a brighter pink. Hark to the West Wind's song of cheer Bringing blue sky and weather clear; Driving away the clouds so gray Filling the earth with sunlight's ray; Cheering the hearts of those who mourn, Filling the dark with golden dawn."
When the little lecture had ended she had learned that when a slack ropetightens, when smoke beats down, when the sun is red in the morning, orwhen there is a yellowish or greenish sunset it means rain; how to tellwhich way the wind blows by pulling blades of grass and then letting thewind blow them, or to suck your thumb and let the wind blow around it,the cool side telling the tale.
To be sure, they were all simple things to learn, but they were theessentials of life, as the doctor said, who had a most jolly manner ofgiving his stray bits of information, all the while making so muchsport, as he ambled on, that Nathalie was sure she would remembereverything he had told her.
When the girls reached the wood with its cool, damp shade, moss-grownpaths, and running brooklet, they set to work with renewed vigor to huntfor specimens. The Sport, notwithstanding the fun the girls had made ofher garden implements, found that they were in great demand. For a timeshe was the star hiker, as first one and another pleaded, "Oh, Edith,just let me have that rake a minute!" or, "Oh, I see the dandiest littleblue flower here in this crevice!" and so on.
When they finally grew tired of flower-hunting they pushed their way toa level space in the open on the edge of the woods, where knapsacks,frying-pans, pots, and all such camping utensils were hastily thrown onthe grass, and the girls hied themselves to the spring to wash theirheated cheeks and rearrange their tangled tresses. Some, moreventuresome than the others, took off their shoes and stockings andwaded in the brook's cooling flow, while the older ones, summoned by aseries of bird calls, hurried back to camp to prepare dinner.
To their delight, as the girls returned from the spring, they found thatDr. Homer had built an Indian "wickiup," that is a dome-shaped wigwam,by sticking in the ground in a circle a number of limber poles. The onesthe doctor had used were willow wands, but almost any kind of a boughwould do, he claimed. He then showed the girls how he had bent the topsof each pair of opposites or poles forward until they met. The ends werethen interlocked and tied firmly. Over this impromptu wigwam--for it hadbeen made with no tool but his strong penknife--he had thrown a blanketshawl.
The girls were all much interested in the Indian wigwam for this was thesimplest way of making a tent, and they examined it eagerly. They wereespecially interested when the doctor told them that one time when hehad lost his trail up in the Maine woods, he had made a dome-shapedwigwam and had rested in its shelter, high and dry, during a severestorm.
When the novelty of the wigwam had worn off, every girl declared herselffamished for something to eat, and the dinner committee hustled aboutpicking up small dry twigs, which were placed in a heap, lightly, so asto draw the air. These were then covered with the heavier sticks untilthe desired height for a campfire was reached. Several fires were to bestarted, as no time was to be wasted in cooking the edibles.
When all was in readiness, there was a general call for Nathalie, who,as the new Pioneer, was to take her first lesson in lighting a fire withonly one match. Every Pioneer, of course, was eager to show her how todo this feat, but Mrs. Morrow silenced the clamor by assigning the taskto Helen.
"Oh, Mrs. Morrow--I think--" Nathalie stopped, a sudden roguish expressionflittered over her face, and then she meekly followed Helen to thewood-pile and stood silent as she watched that young lady scratch hermatch, hold it in the hollow of her
hand, and then, with a soft puff,kneel, and apply it to a twig.
The twig was obstinate, however, and Helen's one match attempt was adecided failure. The Sport now offered her services as instructor, butNathalie, feeling sorry for Helen, who with a crestfallen air hadretired to the ranks of onlookers, cried, "Oh, no, Mrs. Morrow, can't Itry by myself?"
As the Director nodded an assent, while the doctor laughingly declaredshe would have beginner's luck, Nathalie took her match, examined itcarefully, and then scratched it on the box. A tiny blue flame quiveredin the air, which she carefully sheltered with her hand as she kneltbefore the heap of twigs, and blew, oh, so softly. It must have been amagic blow, for as she bent down and held it to the smallest twig shecould find, almost a wisp of straw, it spread itself to the air, caughtthe twig in its flame, and in another moment drifting spurts of smokeshowed that Nathalie had lighted the fire with one match!
The doctor whistled softly as he saw that Nathalie had succeeded, butbefore she could regain an upright position, the Pioneers had brokenforth into loud clapping, somewhat to her confusion as she stood withthe blackened match still in her hand.
Should she tell, she pondered, as her glance swept from face to face ofthe applauding girls; then as she saw the amused look in the doctor'seyes, as he stood with folded arms leaning against a tree watching her,she gave a little laugh. She opened her lips to speak, but when theclapping continued, as if each Pioneer was bent on seeing who could clapthe loudest, she raised her hand as she had seen Mrs. Morrow and Helendo sometimes.
This appeal had the desired effect, and as the clapping dwindled,Nathalie, with a nervous laugh, cried, "Girls, please don't clap me anymore, for I do not deserve it. This is not the first time I have lighteda fire with a single match. A few summers ago I camped up in the Mainewoods. The second day at camp some one upset a pail of water on the boxwith our match supply, and as only one dry box was left, and it was somemiles to the nearest settlement, we were compelled to economize, andwere allowed only one match to light a fire. I was going to tell you,"she gave a little ripple of laughter, "but you were all so anxious toshow me I did not want to spoil your fun, and then as I have notattempted the feat since that summer, I did not know whether I could doit again or not."
A circle of stones was now placed around the fires so as to prevent themfrom spreading in case of a strong wind, and then the lunch-boxes wereopened. It was not long before the savory fumes of frying frankfurters,boiling cocoa, and flapjacks signified that a camp dinner was inprogress.
The girls found a level rock on which they spread a cloth and smallboard, and then the bread was cut and buttered in a way that showed thatthey were experts at the task. Nathalie made the cocoa, counting nosesas she put in a teaspoonful of cocoa to every cup of boiling water,letting it boil three minutes by the watch of the doctor, who had kindlyoffered to help his little hike-mate, as he called her.
The hikers now seated themselves around the fires--for there werethree--and then something happened that held Nathalie with reverent awefor she saw Mrs. Morrow's face sober with a sweet seriousness, as shegave the signal for silence. Every head was quickly lowered in responseto this signal, and then a timid voice--it belonged to the Flower--brokethe reverent stillness by softly chanting a blessing to the Giver of allgood.
Each girl had brought her own tin cup, plate, knife and fork, lump ofsugar, and napkin. Pats of butter were now distributed, followed by themolasses jug, so as to be ready for the flapjacks that were now browningto a turn. The "Ohs!" and "Ahs!" of delight that burst forth as thecakes found their way around the circle amply repaid the baker for herreddened face and hard labor over the burning fagots.
Of course there had to be mishaps; the first piece of bacon to greasethe griddle dropped into the fire instead of the pan, and a number ofcakes turned out failures and had to be consigned to the waste-heap. Butit was a regular hike spread, and meant lots and lots of fun, especiallywhen the pancake contest was started.
This was something new to Nathalie, and she quite enjoyed it as shewatched one girl after the other take her turn in making a flapjack. Shefirst poured the batter on the griddle in just the right quantity, andthen skillfully tossed it high in air as she turned it, so that it wouldland in just the right place on the pan and finish to just the rightshade of brown.
All the party, even the doctor, tried their hands at this feat, all butthe new Pioneer, who shrank back, afraid to venture as she knew thatexpertness came only with many trials. But the girls were persistent andso good-natured in trying to show her that she felt a little ashamed,especially when Mrs. Morrow, who was jotting down the names of theexperts for merit badges, repeated softly, "I can!"
Nathalie immediately sprang up, and although feeling that she would makea perfect goose of herself at this new trial, took the little pitcher,poured out the batter, and then with a quaking heart watched it darken.Ah, she slipped the turner under, and was just about to give it themagic toss when her hand slipped, and batter and turner fell into theflames.
She was so disgusted with this dismal attempt that she would have likedto disappear to parts unknown if the doctor had not cried, "Ah, just onemore trial, I know you will get it this time!" To her unutterableastonishment the doctor's prediction came true, and she really tossed aflapjack with such success that her hike-mate declared it was "the bestever," and begged permission to eat it in memory of the plucky deed.
Of course Grace, Louise, and Helen each won a badge, as was discoveredwhen the contest was over. But even feasting has its limitations on awarm day in June, and as the edibles disappeared the hike spread came toan end. The Tike and one of the Bob Whites were now despatched to thespring for some water, while the rest of the hikers--all but Mrs. Morrow,who was escorted to the wigwam for a siesta--flew hither and thither,filling the pots with water to boil off the grease, rubbing the griddlewith sand, and so on.
As Nathalie and the doctor were jabbing the knives in the dirt to cleanthem, Helen came running up crying, "Oh, what do you suppose thewater-carriers are up to? They have been gone an awfully long time andwe have not a drop of water to wash the dishes?"
"I will go and see!" exclaimed the doctor, jumping up hastily, but hehad not gone more than a few steps when a shrill scream broke thebrooding silence of the woods. In another instant pots, pans, and disheswere flung broadcast as every one made a wild rush in the direction ofthe spring, headed by the doctor. As the doctor reached the spring,however, and saw that the screams did not issue from that quarter heturned, and with a few flying leaps reached the scene of disaster, somedistance down the stream.
The girls started to run after him, but in a moment his loud laughterbrought them to a standstill, for surely it could not be anything veryserious or he would not be indulging in such levity! Helen and theSport, however, who had rushed steadily on, were not far behind thedoctor, and as they swung around the bend of the trees, they beheld adiminutive figure, sputtering and gasping, with rivulets of watertrickling from bedraggled garments and locks, being assisted up the bankby the doctor's strong arm!
Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer Page 16