Mrs. Bunker was startled when she did not see Violet with the other little Bunkers.
"Where's Vi?" she asked the other children. "Where did she go?"
"Oh, she just took her doll for a walk," said Russ. "She went away a little while ago, over there," and he pointed to the rolling plains behind the willow trees.
The plain was not flat, like a board. It was rolling land, with hills and hollows here and there. Some of the hills were high enough to hide a man behind them.
"Where did she go?" asked Mrs. Bunker, and now her voice was anxious.
"Just to give her doll a walk," explained Russ. "She got tired of playing sail-a-boat, she said, and she went for a walk, and took her doll."
"Violet! Violet! Where are you?" loudly called Mrs. Bunker.
There was no answer.
Mrs. Bunker ran to the top of the nearest little hill, or knoll, and looked across the plain. The five little Bunkers followed her. There were only five with her, as Violet had gone for a walk with her doll.
"But where can she have gone?" asked Mrs. Bunker, as she did not see her little girl, nor hear her answer the call.
"Maybe she went home," said Russ.
"Oh, yes," agreed Rose, not wanting to think that anything had happened to her sister. "Maybe her doll got tired, and she took her home."
Sometimes the little Bunker girls were so real in their make-believe play that they did things a grown person would have done.
"Would she know the way home alone?" asked Mrs. Bunker.
"It's right over there," said Russ, pointing. "You can see the ranch houses from here."
This was true enough. When they were up on the little hill they could see the buildings on Three Star Ranch.
"If she only went that way she will be all right," said Mother Bunker. "But if she walked the other way——"
"Come on! We'll find her!" called Russ to Laddie.
"All right. Wait till I go back and anchor my ship and I'll come."
"No, you mustn't go!" exclaimed Mother Bunker. "We must all keep together. I don't want any more of you getting lost."
"Is Vi lost, Mother?" asked Rose, and she moved over closer to Mrs. Bunker.
"Well, I don't know that she is lost," was the answer. "Probably not. But she isn't here with us. She has wandered away. I'll call again.
"Vi! Violet, where are you?" called Mrs. Bunker, as loudly as she could. But there was no answer. Only the wind rustled the branches of the willow tree and the tall grass near the creek.
"Maybe she fell asleep, same as you did," suggested Laddie to his mother.
"Well, perhaps she did, and if she were to lie down in the tall grass we couldn't see her," said Mrs. Bunker. "Oh, dear! I wishI hadn't gone to sleep, and that Vi hadn't wandered off."
She called again, but there was no answer.
"We'd better go for Daddy!" exclaimed Russ. Daddy Bunker was the one always wanted when anything happened.
"But we can't get him," said Mrs. Bunker. "He has gone away with Uncle Fred to look for the lost cattle."
"Then we'll go for Captain Roy!" went on Russ. "He used to be a soldier, and he'll know how to find lost people."
"Yes, I guess that's the best thing to do," said Mrs. Bunker. "Though I hate to go away and leave Violet all alone here, wherever she is. But it's the only way to find her. Come, we'll hurry back to the house and get Captain Roy."
So the five little Bunkers and their mother hurried over the plain toward the Three Star Ranch house.
And now I know you are wondering what happened to Violet, so I am going to tell you. For you know a book-writer can be in two places at the same time.
When Violet started out to give her doll awalk the little girl had no notion of going very far. If she had been at home she would have gone just down to the corner of her block and back. But there are no corners or blocks on the open plain, so Violet just walked over the green fields.
"Do you like it here, Su-San?" she asked.
"Oh, you do," she went on, pretending that her doll had spoken. "And you want to go a little farther, don't you?"
Violet made believe listen to what her doll said.
"Oh, you want to pick some flowers. Well, that will be nice," went on the little girl. "We'll pick a nice bouquet and we'll take it to Rose's doll."
There were flowers growing on the plain, and Violet began picking some, making believe her doll helped. Now, you know how it is when you go to pick blossoms. First you see a nice one, then, farther on, you see one that is a little better, and pretty soon you see one that is prettier than all, and you go for that one, and, before you know it, you are a long way from where you started.
That is what happened to Violet. Shewandered on and on, down among the little hills and hollows until she was quite a distance from the willow tree and the creek. She could no longer see the tree.
And Violet forgot, or she did not know, that when one is in a big field, down among the hills and hollows, and can't see anything high and tall, like a tree or a building sticking up, that one doesn't know which way to go. All ways look alike then. So it is no wonder that Vi, after she had helped her doll gather a bouquet, went the wrong way. Instead of walking back toward the creek she walked away from it.
And she was walking away from the Three Star Ranch house also. In fact Violet was lost on the plain, and she was getting more and more lost every minute and with each step she took.
Finally she said:
"Oh, Su-San! aren't you tired? I am. I'm going to sit down and rest and let you rest, too."
Of course the doll wasn't tired, as she hadn't done any walking, for Vi had carried her all the way. But Vi pretended that thedoll was as weary as was the little girl herself.
So together they sat down in the tall grass, which came over Violet's head now, and rested. Violet didn't know she was lost. But she was, all the same.
After a while she got up and started to walk again. She walked and walked, and, when she couldn't find the creek nor the willow tree nor see her mother nor any of the other little Bunkers, she became frightened and started to cry.
"Oh, Mother!" she called, "where are you? I want you!"
Of course Mrs. Bunker could not hear then, for she was on her way to get Captain Roy to help search for the little girl.
Violet wandered around and around, calling now and then, and crying real tears every once in a while, until, at last, when the sun began to get lower and lower in the west, and the little girl knew it would soon be dark, she sobbed:
"Oh, what shall I do! Oh, where is my mother!"
And just then she heard a horse cometrotting along. She could hear the gallop of the hoofs on the ground.
"Oh, maybe it's an Indian!" thought Vi. "We'd better hide, Su-San!"
She clasped the Japanese toy in her arms, and crouched down in the grass. But the trotting came nearer. Then Violet knew it was more than one horse.
"Maybe it's a whole band of Indians!" she whispered. "Oh, Su-San!"
Down in the tall grass she hid, but she kept on crying. And then, suddenly, close to her, a voice said:
"I thought I heard a child crying just now, didn't you, Jim?"
"Sounded like it, but what would a child be doing out here all alone?"
"I don't know, but I sure did hear it!"
Then another voice called:
"What's the matter over there?"
"Oh, Frank thought he heard a child crying," answered some one, and Vi thought it didn't sound like an Indian.
"A child!" cried still another voice. "Oh, I wonder——"
Then Violet didn't hear any more, forstanding right over where she crouched in the grass was a big man on a big horse and he was looking right down on her.
"I've found her!" the man cried. "It's one of the six little Bunkers!"
"One of the six little Bunkers!" repeated a voice that Violet well knew. It was her father's.
"Oh, Daddy! Daddy!" she cried. "Here I am! I got lost, and I can't find the creek, nor the willow tree, nor Mother, nor anything. Here I am!"
Violet stood up, and a moment later, her father had ridden his horse over to where she was and, reaching down, took her and the doll up in his arms.
"Well, how in the world did you get here?" he asked in surprise. "Where have you been, Violet?"
Then Violet told, and Uncle Fred, who was with Daddy Bunker and some of the cowboys, said:
"We'd better ride back to the house as fast as we can. Amy is probably wild now about losing her. Hurry back to the house!"
Then how the horses did gallop! And Vi,sitting in front of Daddy on his saddle, had a fine ride and forgot she had been lost.
They got back to the house just as Captain Roy and some cowboys were about to ride away in search of Violet. For Mrs. Bunker and the other little Bunkers had reached the ranch house with the story of the lost one.
"How did you find her?" asked Mrs. Bunker of her husband when Violet had been hugged and kissed.
"We were riding back," said Daddy Bunker, "when one of the cowboys heard a child crying. He found Violet in the grass, and then I took her up. How did she get lost?"
Then Mrs. Bunker told about the trip to the creek and how Vi had wandered away by herself.
"But I'm never going again," said the little girl. "I thought the Indians were after me!"
"And it was only Daddy Bunker!" laughed her father.
"Did you find the lost cattle?" asked his wife, when supper was over and they had ceased talking about Vi being lost.
"No, the men who took them must have hurried away with them. We could not find them at all."
Just as the six little Bunkers were going to bed a cowboy came up to the ranch house to say that the water was coming back into the spring.
"That's good," said Uncle Fred. "But I certainly would like to know what makes it go out, and who takes our cattle."
The next day Russ and Laddie asked if they could go fishing in the creek, if they went to one place and stayed there, so they might not wander away and be lost.
"Yes, I guess so," returned Daddy Bunker. "It isn't far, and if you stay on shore you won't fall in."
"True," chuckled Uncle Fred, but he wouldn't tell Laddie what he was laughing at.
There were some small fish to be caught in the creek, and soon, with hooks, lines, poles and bait Russ and Laddie started for the creek.
"I hope they'll be all right," said their mother.
They had been gone about an hour whenRuss came running back to the house, dragging his pole after him, and on the line was a fish, which he had not stopped to take off.
"Oh, Mother! Daddy!" cried Russ. "Laddie—Laddie——"
"Has he fallen in?" cried Mrs. Bunker.
"No, Mother! It isn't that!" said Russ. "But he's caught a riddle, and he doesn't know what to do with it."
"He's caught ariddle?" cried Uncle Fred. "What do you mean?"
"Well, he found it, or caught it, I don't know which," said Russ.
"How did he catch a riddle?" asked Daddy Bunker.
"On his hook. It's a funny thing, like a black stone, and it wiggles and sticks its head out, and Laddie doesn't know what it is, and when you don't know what a thing is that's a riddle, isn't it? Come and see!"
And down to the creek went Daddy and Mother Bunker to see the riddle that Laddie had caught.
Mr. and Mrs. Bunker found Laddie sitting on the bank of the creek looking at something on the ground near him.
"What is it?" called Daddy Bunker, as Russ led them up to the place where he and his brother had been fishing. "What have you caught?"
"I—I guess it's a riddle, for I don't know what else it is," answered Laddie. "Come and look."
"Better not touch it," cautioned his mother.
"I'm not going to touch it, 'cause it can bite. It's got a funny head and a mouth," said Laddie, "and it bit on my hook and it's got it yet."
Mr. and Mrs. Bunker hurried over and saw what Laddie had caught. As Russ had said, it was rough, like a stone, and as blackand hard-looking as a rock. But it was alive and moved.
"Why, it's a mud turtle!" exclaimed Daddy Bunker, as he took a good look at the creature. "It's nothing but a mud turtle, Laddie! I should think you'd know what they are, for you have seen them in Rainbow River at home."
"No, this isn't a mud turtle," said Russ. "I know what a mud turtle is, and this is different. It's something like one, but not the same."
"How did you get it, Laddie?" asked Mother Bunker.
"Well, I was fishing, and I got a lot of nibbles but none of the fish stayed on my hook. Then, all of a sudden, this one stayed on, and I pulled him up, only it isn't a fish."
"I should say not!" exclaimed another voice, and they looked up to see Uncle Fred standing near them. He had followed Daddy and Mother Bunker to the place where the boys were fishing.
"What is it?" asked Russ.
"That's a snapping turtle—not a mud turtle," went on the ranchman. "They'revery hard biters, and if a big one gets hold of your finger or toe he might bite it off, or at least hurt it very much. So keep away from these fellows."
"I thought it didn't look like a mud turtle," said Russ.
"It is something like one, but different in shape," went on Uncle Fred. "We'll just cut this one off your line, Laddie."
The line was cut, and the turtle, that had the hook in its mouth, crawled down toward the creek. It had tried to crawl away before, but could not because the fishing line held it.
"They get their mouth closed tight, and don't like to open their jaws," said Uncle Fred, as the turtle disappeared under the water with a splash. "But I guess this one will open his mouth and let go the hook when he gets off by himself. This is the largest snapper I've seen around here. The Indians say they're good to eat, but I've never tried it."
"Well, I did catch something like a riddle, didn't I?" asked Laddie.
"Yes. And Uncle Fred guessed theriddle," answered Russ. "Now we'll fish some more."
"And I don't want to catch any more snappers," said Laddie, when Uncle Fred had fastened a new hook on his line.
The grown folk went back to the ranch house, leaving the boys to fish, and, somewhat to their own surprise, Laddie and Russ each caught two good-sized fish.
With shouts of delight, about an hour after having captured the snapping turtle, they ran to the house, holding up on strings the prizes they had caught.
"We'll have 'em cooked!" cried Laddie. "They're good to eat! One of the cowboys told us they were."
"Yes, those fish are good to eat," said Uncle Fred. "I'll have Bill Johnson clean and cook them for you."
"This is better than riddles!" laughed Russ. "I'm going fishing every day and catch fish."
"And I'm going, too," declared Violet.
"Good!" cried her father. "Then Uncle Fred won't have to buy so many things at the store."
The fish were cooked, and very good theywere, too, though Mun Bun said they had too many bones in them, and this, perhaps, was true. But all fish have bones.
As the days went on Uncle Fred and his men, as well as Daddy Bunker, tried to find the lost cattle, or the men who, it was thought, had taken them. But they could not. The cattle seemed to have vanished, leaving no trace.
Every day some of the six little Bunkers, and, sometimes, all of them, went to the mysterious spring, to see if any of the water had run out, but it seemed to be all right, and behaving just as a spring should.
"Though there's no telling when it will go dry again," said Uncle Fred. "We'll have to keep watch of it. For nearly every time the spring goes dry I lose some cattle."
"May we go for a ride on our ponies to-day?" asked Russ of his mother one morning. "Laddie and I want a ride."
"Will you be very careful," asked his mother, "not to go outside the big field?"
"Oh, yes, we'll just stay in the big field," promised Laddie. "Come on, Russ! We'll have some fun!"
The four older Bunker children had learned to ride the little Shetland ponies very well. Uncle Fred had let them take, for their own use, four of the best animals, which were kind and gentle. He had also set aside for them a big fenced-in field, where they might ride.
Over to the corral Russ and Laddie ran, and soon they were leading out their own two special ponies. A little later they were riding them around the big fenced-in meadow, playing they were cowboys and Indians, though Russ was not allowed to have a lasso. Uncle Fred had said that if a little boy, like Russ, played with a rope while riding a pony, the cord might get tangled in the pony's legs, and throw it.
"This is lots of fun!" cried Laddie, as he trotted about.
"Most fun we ever had!" agreed Russ.
But as the six little Bunkers said this every place they went, you can take it for what it is worth. Certainly they were having good times at Uncle Fred's.
When Russ and Laddie were giving their ponies a rest in the shade of a tree that grewat one side of the field, they heard a voice calling to them:
"Give me a ride! Oh, please give me a ride!"
"It's Margy!" cried Russ, looking around. "How'd you get here, Margy?" he asked.
"I walked," stated the little girl. "Mother and Daddy have gone to the store with Violet to get her a new dress, and Mun Bun has gone, too. I stayed at home with Rose."
"Where is Rose now?" asked Laddie.
"She is out in the kitchen, making a pie. Bill Johnson said she could. So I took a walk to come over to see you, and I want a ride."
"Shall we give her a ride?" asked Laddie.
"I'd like to," Russ answered. "But how can we? Mother said we couldn't take any one on the same pony with us, 'cause we couldn't hold 'em on tight enough."
"If we only had a little cart we could give her a ride," said Laddie. "We could sit on our pony's back and one of us could pull her in the cart. But we haven't got a cart."
"Please, I want a ride!" repeated Margy.
Russ didn't say anything for a moment. Then he suddenly exclaimed:
"I know how we can give her a ride!"
"How?" asked Laddie. "Can you make a cart?"
"No, but I can make something just as good!" exclaimed Russ, and he began whistling. "You wait, Margy! I'll give you a ride!"
Russ tied his pony to the fence and hurried over toward the barn, telling Margy to crawl in under the fence and wait until he came back.
Margy was going to have a ride, and there was to be a queer ending to it.
Russ Bunker came back from the barn, dragging with him some long bean poles, an old bag that had held oats for the horses, and some pieces of rope.
"Are you going to make a swing?" asked Margy.
"I'm going to make something for you to ride in," answered Russ.
"A carriage?" asked Laddie.
"An Indian carriage," Russ answered. "One of the cowboys was telling me about 'em. The Indians fasten two poles, one on each side of a horse. Then they tie the ends of the poles that drag on the ground together with some ropes, and they stick a bag or a piece of cloth between the poles, and tie it there.
"That makes a place where you can sit orlie down, or put something you want to carry. And that's where we'll put Margy."
"Oh, I'll like a ride like that!" exclaimed the little girl. "I was in the kitchen with Rose, but I came out 'cause she's making a pie. I'll go back when the pie is done, and get a piece."
"So'll I," added Laddie with a laugh. "I like pie!"
He and Russ began to make the queer carriage in which Margy was to ride. Perhaps you may have seen them in Indian pictures. A long pole is fastened on either side of a horse, being tied to the edge of the saddle. The ends drag behind the horse on the ground, and between these poles is a platform, or a piece of bagging stretched, in which the Indian squaws and their papooses, or babies, ride. It is just like a carriage or cart, except that it has no wheels.
It took Russ and Laddie longer than they thought it would to make the Indian carriage for Margy. But at last it was finished, and there, dragging behind Russ's pony, were the two long poles, and a bag was tied between them for Margy to sit on.
"All aboard!" cried Laddie, when it was finished.
"Hey! This isn't a ship! You don't say all aboard!" exclaimed Russ.
"What do you say?"
"Well, you say get in, or something like that. Not 'all aboard!' That's only for boats or maybe trains."
"Well, get in, Margy," said Laddie. "Russ will ride ahead and pull you, and I'll ride behind, just as if I was another Indian. That's what we'll play—Indian!" he said.
"All right," agreed Russ.
"Oh, this is fun!" exclaimed Margy, when she was seated in the Indian carriage and Russ's pony was pulling her about the field. "I like it."
MARGY WAS HAVING A NICE RIDE.MARGY WAS HAVING A NICE RIDE.
Indeed she was having a nice ride, though it was rather bumpy when the dragging poles went over stones or holes in the ground. But Margy did not mind that, for the bag seat in which she was cuddled was nice and soft.
Once one of the poles, which were fastened to the pony with pieces of clothesline, came loose, and the pony walked around dragging only one, so that Margy was spilled out.But the grass was soft, and she only laughed at the accident.
Russ tied the pole back again, and then he and Laddie rode around the field, Margy being dragged after them, just as, in the olden days, the real Indians used to give their squaws and papooses a ride from one part of the country to another.
"I guess the ponies are tired now," said Laddie, as he noticed his walking rather slowly. "Maybe we'd better give them a rest."
"I guess so," agreed Russ. "We'll let 'em rest in the shade of the tree."
So they rode their ponies into the shade and left them standing there, the boys themselves running around in the grass, to "stretch their legs," as their father used to call it.
"Margy's asleep," said Russ, as he got down from his pony and saw that his little sister's eyes were closed, as she lay cuddled up in the bag between the two trailing poles. "We'll let her sleep while we play tag."
And so Margy slept in the Indian carriage, while Russ and Laddie raced about the bigfield. Then they forgot all about Margy, for they heard Rose calling to them:
"Russ! Laddie! Do you want some of my pie? I baked it all myself in Bill Johnson's oven!"
"Oh, her pie is done!" cried Laddie.
"Come on! Let's get some!" added Russ.
Then the two boys, forgetting all about Margy sleeping in the Indian carriage, ran out of the field, leaving the ponies behind them, and leaving their little sister also.
"Is it a real pie?" asked Russ, as he reached the ranch house, in front of which stood Rose.
"Course it is," she answered.
"And has it got a crust, and things inside, like Norah makes?" Laddie wanted to know.
"Course it has," declared Rose. "Come on, I'll give you some."
They went out to the kitchen where Bill Johnson was busy. He greeted the boys with a laugh.
"That little sister of yours is some cook!" exclaimed the cook. "She can make a pie almost as good as I can, and it took me a good many years to learn."
"Let's see the pie!" demanded Russ.
"Here 'tis!" exclaimed Rose. "We set it out on the window sill to cool," and she brought in what seemed like a very nice pie, indeed.
And it was good, too, as the boys said after they had tasted it. True, it was made of canned peaches, but then you can't get fresh peaches on a Western ranch in early summer. Canned ones did very well.
"Could I have another piece?" asked Laddie, finishing his first.
"Well, a little one," said Rose. "I want to save some for Margy—— Oh, where is Margy?" she suddenly cried. "I forgot all about her, and Mother said I was to watch her! Oh, where is she?"
Rose started up in alarm, but Laddie said:
"Margy is all right. She came over where me and Russ—I mean, Russ and I—were riding our ponies, and we made an Indian carriage for her," and he explained what they had done.
"But where is she now?" Rose demanded.
"She's asleep over there," Russ said slowly, and pointed to the big field.
"Let's go and get her, and we'll take her this piece of pie," proposed Laddie. "If she doesn't want it I'll eat it."
"No, I will!" cried Russ. "You've had two pieces."
"Margy will want it all right!" declared Rose. "She likes pie. I'm going to make another some day."
Carrying Margy's piece of pie, the three little Bunkers went over to the field where the ponies had been left. On the way Russ told Rose more about the queer Indian carriage he had made.
"Will it hold me?" Rose asked.
"Yes, and I'll give you a ride after Margy wakesup," Russ promised. "I'll get some more poles for Laddie's pony and he can ride Vi and I'll ride you."
"Oh, won't that be fun!" cried Rose.
But when they reached the field where the ponies had been left a sad surprise awaited them. Neither of the two little creatures were to be seen, and there was no sign of Margy or the queer Indian carriage either.
"Oh, they—they're gone!" gasped Russ.
"Both ponies!" added Laddie.
"And where's Margy?" asked Rose, holding the piece of pie in her hand.
"She's gone, too," said Russ. "Oh, dear!"
"Maybe the Indians came and took her," said Laddie.
"I don't see any Indians," and Russ shook his head.
"But maybe they rode off with her."
"Or maybe the bad men that took Uncle Fred's cattle came and took the ponies and Margy," said Rose. "Oh, what are we going to do?"
"We must tell Uncle Fred!" exclaimed Russ.
"He's away off at the far end of the ranch," said Rose. "He rode over with some of the cowboys when I was making my pie."
"Is Mother or Daddy back?" asked Laddie.
"No, not yet," Rose answered. "Oh, dear! Mother will say it is my fault, for she told me to watch Margy, but I forgot when I was making my pie."
The pie seemed to give Russ an idea.
"We'll tell Bill Johnson," he said. "Bill used to be a cowboy, if he is a cook now,and he'll know how to find anybody the Indians have taken. We'll go and tell Bill Johnson."
So back to the ranch house rushed the children, bursting in on Bill Johnson with an excited story about the missing ponies and Margy.
"Ponies gone out of the big field, eh?" asked Bill. "Well, I expect you left the bars down, didn't you—the place where you made a hole in the fence to drive the ponies in from the corral? Did you leave the bars down?"
"I guess we did," admitted Russ.
"Come on with me," said Bill with a laugh. "I guess I can find the ponies for you."
"But we want Margy, too!" said Rose.
"Yes, I guess I can find her also."
Bill Johnson led the way to the corral, where the ponies were kept, and there, among their fellows, were the two missing ones. And, best of all, the sticks were still fast to the one Russ had ridden, and Margy was just awakening and was still in her place in the bag between the poles.
"Oh, Margy!" cried Rose, "I brought you some pie."
"I had a nice ride," said Margy, and she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Russ gave me a nice ride, and we played Indian, and I went to sleep."
"Yes, and while you slept," said Bill, "the two ponies took a notion they wanted to go back with the others in the corral. So they just walked through the fence, where the bars were down, and went out, the one dragging Margy with it. It's a good thing you made the Indian carriage so good and strong, Russ, or she might have been hurt. After this don't leave ponies alone in a field with the bars down."
The boys promised they wouldn't. Margy was lifted out, the poles were taken off Russ's pony and the children went back to the ranch house.
Of course, Mrs. Bunker had to caution Russ and Laddie to be a little more careful when she heard the tale.
The six little Bunkers had lots of fun at Uncle Fred's. Each day there was something new to see or do, and as the weatherbecame warmer they were outdoors from morning until night.
One day Margy and Mun Bun went off by themselves with the pails and shovels they had played with at the beach when they visited Cousin Tom.
"Don't go too far," called their mother after them. "Don't go out of sight of the house."
"We won't," they promised.
"I just goin' to make mud pies down by the pond," said Mun Bun.
The "pond" was a place where the creek widened out into a shallow place, only half-way to Mun Bun's knees in depth. On one shore was sand, where "pies" could be made.
It was about half an hour after Mun Bun and Margy had gone to play on the shore of the creek that Margy came running back alone.
"Where's Mun Bun?" her mother asked her.
"He's in a mud pie and he can't get out," explained the little girl. "Come on, and get Mun Bun out of the mud pie."
For a moment Mrs. Bunker did not know whether Margy was fooling or not. She could not imagine how Mun Bun could be stuck in a "mud pie," and yet that was what Margy had said.
"Is he hurt?" asked Mrs. Bunker, as she laid aside her sewing and got ready to follow Margy to the creek.
"No. He's only just stuck in the middle of his big pie, and he can't get out. And he's all mud and he looks awful funny."
"I should think he would!" exclaimed the mother of the six little Bunkers. "Hurry along, Margy, and show me where he is."
"What's the matter now?" asked Daddy Bunker, who came along just then, in time to hear what his wife said. "What has happened to Mun Bun now?"
"He is stuck in a mud pie, so Margy says," answered Mrs. Bunker. "Perhaps you had better come with me and see what it's all about."
Together Mr. and Mrs. Bunker hurried after Margy. As they came within sight of the pond they could not see Mun Bun at all.
"Where is he?" asked the little chap's mother. "Where did you leave him, Margy?"
"There he is—right over there!" answered the little girl. She pointed to something that, at first, did not look at all like Mun Bun. But as Mr. Bunker took a second glance he saw that it was his little boy, and Mun Bun was, indeed, "stuck in a mud pie."
"Why he's in a regular bog-hole!" cried Mr. Bunker. "He must have waded out into the water for something or other, and he got stuck in the mud."
"And he has sunk down!" cried Mrs. Bunker. "Get him out right away, Daddy! He may be smothered in the mud!"
"I'll get him!" cried Mun Bun's father.
Mr. Bunker took off his shoes and socks and, rolling up his trousers so they would not get muddy, waded out to where his littleboy was. Truly Mun Bun was stuck in the middle of a big mud pie—at least that was what Margy called it. It was, however, the muddy bottom of the pond itself, which, at one end, was a regular bog, being fenced off so no cattle or horses could get in.
But Mun Bun had climbed in under the fence, and at once he found himself in soft mud. He had begun to sink down; so he called for help, and Margy ran to tell her mother.
"My, but you are a sight, Mun Bun!" cried his father, as he came to the side of the little boy and began pulling him out. And Mun Bun was stuck so fast in the mud that Mr. Bunker had to pull quite hard to loosen him. And when Mun Bun came up, his legs and feet making a funny, sucking sound as they were pulled out, he was covered with mud and water from his toes to his waist. Mud was splashed up on his face, too, and his hands—well, they didn't look like hands at all! They were just "gobs of mud," Margy said.
"How did it happen? What made you go in the mud?" asked the little boy's mother, asDaddy Bunker waded to shore with Mun Bun.
"Well, I made some mud pies in the sand," Mun Bun explained, "and then I thought maybe if I could find a mud turkle he'd eat the pies. So I crawled under the fence and went in the deep mud to look for a mud turkle."
Mun Bun meant a "turtle," of course.
"But I didn't find any," he went on, "and I went down deeper and deeper, and then I hollered like anything."
"And I heard him," said Margy. "I was going to wade in and get him, but my feet went down deep in the mud, so I ran for you."
"It's a good thing you did," said her mother. "You mustn't come here again. You might get stuck and never get out. Never come here again!"
"Can't we make mud pies in the sand?" asked Mun Bun.
"Yes, but you mustn't hunt for mud turtles. Stay outside the bog fence."
The children promised that they would, and then came the work of washing Mun Bunand Margy. Margy was the easiest to clean, as she only had mud on her up to her knees. She waded in the creek where there was a clean, sandy bottom, and where the water was clear, and soon the mud was washed off her.
"But as for Mun Bun," said his father, "I guess I'll have to put him in the creek, clothes and all, up to his neck, and let the water wash the mud away."
"I guess you'd better," said Mrs. Bunker. "That's the only way to get off the mud."
The day was warm, and so was the water, so Mun Bun was set down in the creek at a clean place, and he and his clothes were washed at the same time. The mud was rinsed from his hands and face and, in time, it came off his feet, legs and clothes.
"It's just like I been in swimming with all my things on!" laughed Mun Bun, as his father lifted him out of the pond.
"Well, don't make any more mud pies right away," his mother told him, and Mun Bun promised not to.
The other little Bunkers laughed when they heard what had happened to Mun Bun.
"Maybe I could make up a riddle about Mun Bun in a mud pie," said Laddie.
"I don't want you to!" the little boy exclaimed. "I don't want to be in a riddle."
"All right. Then I'll make up one about something else," went on Laddie. "This is it. What is it you cannot take from the top of a house to the bottom?"
"Pooh! that isn't a riddle," said Russ.
"Say it again," begged Rose.
"What is it you can't take from the top of a house and put it on the bottom—I mean like down cellar?" asked Laddie.
"There isn't anything," declared Violet. "If you got anything in the top of your house you can take it down cellar, if you want to; can't you, Daddy?"
"Well, I should think so, yes," answered Mr. Bunker.
"No, you can't!" declared Laddie. "Do you all give up? What is it in the top of the house that you can't take down cellar with you?"
"The chimney," answered Russ.
"Nope," said Laddie. "'Cause the chimney starts down cellar, anyhow, and goes up tothe top. I mean what's in the top of a house you can't take down cellar?"
"We'll give up," said his mother. "What is it?"
"A hole in the roof!" answered Laddie with a laugh. "You can't take a hole in the roof down cellar, can you?"
"No, I guess you can't," admitted Uncle Fred. "That's a pretty good riddle, Laddie."
It was two or three days after Mun Bun had become stuck in the mud pie that the children awakened one morning to find a high wind blowing outside.
"Oh, is this a cyclone?" asked Violet, for she had heard they had such winds in the West.
"Oh, no, this wind is nothing like as strong as a cyclone," answered Uncle Fred. "It's just one of our summer winds. They're strong, but they do no damage. Look out for your hair if you go outdoors; it might blow off."
"My hair can't blow off 'cause it's fast to me—it's growed fast!" explained Violet.
"Well, then be careful it doesn't blow you away, hair and all!" said Uncle Fred, but bythe way he laughed Violet knew he was only joking.
The children went out to play, and they had to hold their hats on most of the time, as the wind blew across the plain so strongly. But the six little Bunkers did not mind.
"If we only had a boat, and the pond was big enough, we could have a fine sail!" cried Laddie, as he looked at the wind making little waves on the place where Mun Bun had been stuck in the mud.
"Oh, I know what we could make!" suddenly exclaimed Russ.
"What?" his brother wanted to know.
"A wind wagon."
"A wind wagon?"
"Yes, you know, a wagon that the wind will blow. Come on, we'll do it. Mother read me a story once about a boy who lived in the West, and he made himself a wind wagon and he had a nice ride. Come on, we'll make one!"
Laddie knew Russ could make many play-things, for he had seen his brother at work. But a wind wagon was something new. Laddie did not see how this could be made.
"Where are you going to get your wagon?" he asked Russ, as the two boys went out to the barn.
"There's an old express wagon out here. I saw it the other day. It's broken, but maybe we can fix it. Uncle Fred said it belonged to a family that used to live on this ranch before he bought it. We'll make the wind wagon out of that."
In a corner of the barn, under a pile of trash and rubbish, was found an old, broken toy express wagon.
"The four wheels are all right, and that's the main thing," said Russ. "We can fix theother part. The wheels you must have, else you can't make a wind wagon. Come on! We'll have lots of fun."
Then began the making of the wind wagon, though Laddie, even yet, didn't know exactly what Russ meant by it. But Russ soon told his brother what he was going to do, and not only told him, but showed him.
"You see, Laddie," explained Russ, "a water ship sails on the ocean or a lake 'cause the wind blows on the sail and makes it go."
"Yes," answered Laddie, "I know that."
"Well, 'stead of a water ship, I'm going to make a wind ship that will go on land. I'll fix the old express wagon up so it will roll along on wheels."
"Do you mean to have a pony pull it?"
"No. Though we could do it that way, if we wanted to. And maybe we will if the wind wagon won't work. But I think it will. You see, we'll fasten a sail to the wagon, and then we'll get in it and the wind will blow on the sail and blow us along as fast as anything."
"It'll be lots of fun!" exclaimed Laddie.
Russ and Laddie so often made things, or,at least, tried to do so, that their father and mother never paid much attention to the boys when they heard them hammering, sawing or battering away, with Russ whistling one merry tune after another. He always whistled when he made things. And now he was going to make a wind wagon.
It was not as easy as the boys had thought it would be to get the broken express wagon so it would run. The wheels were rusty on the axles, and they squeaked when Russ tried to turn them.
"And they've got to run easy if we want to ride," he said.
However, one of the cowboys saw that the boys were making something, and when they told him the trouble with the rusty wheels he gave them some axle grease that he used on the big wagons. After that the wheels spun around easily.
"Now we'll go fast!" cried Russ.
With a hammer and some nails, which he and Laddie found in the barn, they nailed the broken express wagon together, for some of the bottom boards were loose, as well as one of the sides.
But at last, after an hour of hard work, the wagon was in pretty good shape. It could be pulled about, and it would hold the two boys.
"Now we have to make a mast for the sail," said Russ, "and we must get a piece of cloth for the sail, and we've got to have some way to guide the wagon."
"Couldn't I stick my foot out back, and steer that way, same as I do when I'm coasting downhill in winter?" asked Laddie.
"Nope," Russ answered. "We'll have to steer by the front wheels, same as an automobile steers. But I can tie a rope to the front wheels, and pull it whichever way I want to go, just like Jimmie Brackson used to steer his coaster wagon down the hill at home."
He tied a rope on the front axle, close to each front wheel, and then, by pulling on the cords, he could turn the wagon whichever way he wanted to make it go.
"The mast is going to be hard," said Russ, and he and Laddie found it so. They could not make it stand upright, and at last they had to call on Daddy Bunker.
"Oh, so you're going to make a ship to sail on dry land, are you?" asked their father, when they told him their troubles with the mast.
"Will it sail?" asked Laddie.
"Well, it may, a little way. The wind is very strong to-day. I'll help you fix it."
With Daddy Bunker's aid, the mast was soon fixed so that it stood straight up in front of the wagon, being nailed fast and braced. Then they found some pieces of old bags for sails, and these were sewed together and made fast to the mast. There was a gaff, which is the little slanting stick at the top of a sail, and a boom, which is the big stick at the bottom. Only the whole sail, gaff, boom and all, was not very large.
"If you have your sail too big," said Daddy Bunker, "it will tip your wagon over when the wind blows hard. Better have a smaller sail and go a bit slower, than have an accident."
At last the sail was finished and hoisted on the mast. Russ and Laddie took their places in the wagon, and Daddy Bunker turned it around so the wind would blowstraight from the back. The wagon stood on a smooth part of the prairies, where the grass had been eaten short by the hundreds of Uncle Fred's cattle.
"All ready, boys?" called their father to them.
"All ready!" answered Russ.
"All aboard!" answered Laddie. "I can say that this time, 'cause this is really a ship, though it sails on dry land," he added.
"Yes, you can say that," agreed Russ.
"Here you go!" cried Daddy Bunker.
He gave the wind wagon a shove, and it began to move. Slowly it went at first, and then, as the wind struck the sail, it began to send the toy along faster.
"Hurray!" cried Russ. "We're sailing!"
"Fine!" shouted Laddie.
And the boys were really moving over the level prairie in the wind wagon Russ had made. They could only go straight, or nearly so, and could not sail much to one side or the other, as their land ship was not like a water one. It would not "tack," or move across the wind.
Along they sailed, rather bumpily, it istrue, but Russ and Laddie did not mind that. Russ could pull on the ropes fast to the front wheels, and steer his "ship" out of the way of stones and holes.
"Well, the youngsters did pretty well!" exclaimed Uncle Fred, as he saw Russ and Laddie sailing along.
"Yes, they did better than I expected they would," said their father. "If they don't upset they'll be all right."
Laddie and Russ did not seem to be going to do this. The wind wagon appeared to be a great success.
"Oh, who made it? Where did you get it? Whose is it? Can't I have a ride?" cried Violet, when she saw the new toy.
"My, what a lot of questions!" exclaimed Daddy Bunker, laughing.
"We'll give everybody a ride," said Russ, "only I'm going to sit in the ship each time and steer. I'm the captain, and nobody knows how to steer except me."
When Laddie got out, Rose had a turn, and then Violet was given a ride. The wind wagon went very nicely. Of course, each time it was blown over the field, some distance from the ranch house, it had to be dragged back again, as the children did not want to ride too far from home.
But walking back with the land ship to the starting point was no worse than walking back uphill with a sled, as the children had to do when they went coasting in the winter.
"And we walk back on level ground, not up a hill," said Russ.
So the wind wagon was that much better than a sled.
It came the turns of Mun Bun and Margy, and they liked the rides very much. Only Mun Bun made trouble by wanting to guide the land ship, and when he was told he could not, he snatched at the ropes Russ held, and nearly made the wind wagon upset.
After that Mun Bun was not given any more rides.
"I guess he is cross because he hasn't had his sleep this afternoon," said his mother. "Come on, Margy and Mun Bun. I'll put you to bed."
So Russ, with Laddie, Violet and Rose, played with the wind wagon after thetwo smallest Bunkers had been put to bed.
But Russ began to feel that he had been a little selfish, and each of the older children was allowed to guide the land ship some of the time.
The wind kept blowing harder and harder, and at last the land ship went so fast before the breeze that Mr. Bunker called:
"Better shorten sail, Russ! Better take in some, or you may blow over."
"Oh, I don't guess we will," said Russ, who was again, as he was most of the time, doing the guiding.
But he did not know what was going to happen.
"The wind is blowing so strong now," said Laddie to his brother, "that three of us could ride in the wagon 'stead of only two. It will blow three of us."
"We'll try it," agreed Russ. "Come on, Vi and Rose. I'll give you two a ride at the same time."
It was rather a tight squeeze to get the three children in the wagon, but it was managed. Laddie shoved them off and away they went.
The wind blew harder and harder, and, all of a sudden, as Russ steered out of the way of a stone, there came a sudden puff, and—over went the wind wagon, spilling out Rose, Violet and "Captain Russ" himself. The mast broke off close to where it was fastened to the toy wagon, and the sail became tangled in the arms and legs of the children.
"My goodness!" cried Captain Roy, who came along just in time to see the accident, which happened a little way from the ranch house. "Any of the six little Bunkers hurt?"
"There's only three of us in the wagon," said Russ, as he crawled out. "I'm not hurt. Are you, Rose?"
"No," she answered, laughing. "But where's Vi?"
"Here I am," answered the little girl, as she crawled out from under the wagon, which had upset. "And I don't like that way of stopping at all, Russ Bunker! I like to stop easy!"
"So do I," said Russ. "I didn't mean to do that. The wind was too strong for us. Now the wagon is busted."
It was indeed broken, and, as the wind blewharder than before, Daddy Bunker said it would not be best to use the wind wagon any more, even if it had not been smashed. So the toy was turned right side up, the broken mast and sail put in it and Russ and Laddie took it to the barn.
"We'll fix it up again to-morrow," said Russ.
The children had other fun the rest of that day, and in the evening they all had pony rides. And this time Margy was not given a ride in the Indian carriage and left asleep. She had her own pony to ride on.
The next day, when dinner was about to be served, Uncle Fred came in looking rather thoughtful.
"Has anything happened?" asked Mother Bunker.
"Yes," he answered. "Some more of my cattle have been taken. I thought this would happen after the spring started to go dry. I wish I could find out what it all means—why the water runs out of the spring, and who is taking my cattle."
"I wish we could help," said Daddy Bunker. "But we don't seem able to. Theengineers you asked about it don't seem to know what makes your spring go dry; the books tell nothing about it, and we can't find any of your lost cattle. I'm afraid we Bunkers aren't helping any."
"Well, I like to have you here!" said Uncle Fred. "Three Star Ranch would be lonesome if the six little Bunkers went away. Just stay on, and maybe we'll solve the riddle yet."
They were just going in to dinner, when a cowboy rode up on a pony that was covered with foam, from having been ridden far and fast.
"What's the matter?" asked Uncle Fred, as he went out to talk to the man—for cowboys are men, though they are called boys. "Are any more of my cattle gone?"
"No, but they're likely to be. There's a big prairie fire started some miles south of here, and the wind is blowing it right this way. We've got to do something if we want to save the ranch houses from burning!"
"What's that?" cried Uncle Fred. "A prairie fire?"
"Yes, and a bad one, too," answered the man. "I saw it when I was bringing in those steers you told me to get ready to ship away on the train. I just left them, knowing they'd keep out of danger, and rode as fast as I could to tell you."
"That's right! Glad you did!" exclaimed Uncle Fred. "Now we must get to work right away to stop the fire from burning us out. Come on, boys!" he called. "Where's Captain Roy?"
"Here I am!" cried the former soldier, as he came out of the dining-room where he had been helping Margy and Mun Bun get up in their chairs, ready to eat. "What's the matter?"
"Prairie fire!" answered Uncle Fred. "We've got to stop it coming any farther this way, or it may burn all our ranch buildings down! No time for dinner now! We've got to fight the fire!"
"Can I help?" asked Russ eagerly.
"I want to just the same as him!" added Laddie.
"No, you boys must keep out of the way," answered Daddy Bunker. "I'll go and help Fred," he said to his wife. "You'll have to keep the children with you."
"I will," answered Mrs. Bunker.
"Oh, you don't need to do that," said Uncle Fred. "The fire is not near us yet, and if we can plow a wide strip of ground in time, the fire will come to the edge of that and stop. The older children can stand out of the way and watch the plowing, if they like."
"Can we see the fire, too?" asked Russ.
"Yes. Though you can't go very close," his uncle answered. "Let them have a look," he added to Daddy Bunker. "It isn't every day they see a prairie fire, and they'll never forget it. There will be no danger to them."
"All right," said Daddy Bunker. "Russand Laddie and Violet and Rose may go to watch the plowing and see the fire. But Mun Bun and Margy must stay at home."
"I like to stay at home," said Margy. "I'm awful busy to-day."
"I like to stay at home, too," said Mun Bun, who generally did what his little sister did.
So with the two smallest Bunkers at home with their mother, the other four went with Daddy Bunker to see the fire and watch the cowboys at work.
When Uncle Fred had called the cowboys, they stopped whatever they were doing and began to get ready to fight the fire. Some of them had had their dinners, and others had not. But even those that had not eaten got ready to work. Captain Roy hurried out, also ready to help.
"Get all the horses and plows you can find," said Uncle Fred. "If we haven't enough we'll borrow some from the neighbors."
Though no other ranchmen lived within several miles of Uncle Fred, still there were a few who had plows and horses that could be used. Uncle Fred had a telephone in hishouse, and Captain Roy was soon calling up the nearest ranchers, asking them to hurry with their plows and horses to make a big, wide strip of bare ground, so the fire would have nothing to burn.
"They'll be here as soon as they can," said the captain. "They have already seen the fire."
"I see it, too!" exclaimed Russ. "Look at the black smoke!"
"And I can see blazes, too!" exclaimed Laddie.
"So can I," added Rose.
"Who started the fire?" asked Violet.
"That we don't know," answered Uncle Fred. "Sometimes a cowboy may drop a match and forget about it. Again some one may start a campfire and forget to put it out when he leaves. All those things start prairie fires."
Uncle Fred and Captain Roy, and as many cowboys as could be found, started toward the cloud of black smoke with plows and horses. As Russ had said, the smoke-cloud could plainly be seen. It seemed to be rolling along the ground, as white, fleecy cloudsroll along in the sky. And at the bottom of the black cloud could be seen fire.
The four little Bunkers were led by their father out to where they could have a good view of the fire. The smoke was blacker now, and the flames could be seen more plainly. At times, when the wind blew with unusual strength, the children could smell the smoke and burning grass.
"Does the wind push the fire on, same as it pushed Russ's sail-wagon?" asked Vi.
"Just the same," answered her father. "The fire comes toward us just as fast as the wind blows. If the wind would only blow the other way the fire would not harm us."
But the wind was blowing right toward Uncle Fred's ranch houses, and he and the cowboys knew they must hurry to plow the safety strip of land.
And so they began. Back and forth the teams of horses pulled the plows, turning the dry grass under and leaving only bare earth on top. Then other cowboys came, and the farmers and ranchers who had been telephoned to, and soon many were fighting the prairie fire.
Nearer and nearer it came. The horses, smelling the smoke and seeing the flames, began to snort and prance around.
"Only a little more now," cried Uncle Fred, "and we'll be safe!"
Back and forth the plows hurried, turning up strip after strip of damp ground. It was so hot now, because the fire was nearer, that Daddy Bunker led the children back a way.
"Could the fire get ahead of me if I ran fast?" asked Russ, as he watched the flames and smoke.
"Yes, if the wind blows hard the fire can go faster than the fastest man can run," said Captain Roy, who came up to where Daddy Bunker stood. The captain was thirsty, and wanted a drink of water from the pail Daddy Bunker had carried from the house.
"Do you think you can stop the fire?" asked Violet.
"Oh, yes, we'll stop it now all right," the former soldier answered. "We started to plow just in time."
And so it happened. The flames and smoke in the burning tall grass rolled right up to the edge of the plowed strip, and then theystopped. There was nothing more for the fire to "eat," as Russ called it. Some little tongues of fire tried to creep around the ends of the plowed strip, but the cowboys soon beat these out by throwing shovels full of dirt on them.
"There! Now the fire is out!" cried Uncle Fred. "There is no more danger."
"And will your houses be all right?" Rose asked.
"Yes, they won't burn now."
There was still much smoke in the air, but the wind was blowing it away. And then the children could see the big field, all burned black by the fire.
"The cows can't eat that now, can they?" asked Laddie.
"No, it's spoiled for pasture," said Uncle Fred. "But it will grow up again. Still a prairie fire is a bad thing."
The little Bunkers thought so, too, and they were glad when it was over. They went back to the house, leaving some of the cowboys on guard, to see that no stray sparks started another fire.
"And now we'll have dinner," said UncleFred. "It's a little late, but we'll call it dinner just the same."
He invited the men from the other ranches, who had come to help him fight the fire, to stay with him, and soon Bill Johnson was serving a meal to many hungry men. The little Bunkers had theirs separately.
That afternoon Russ and Laddie and Vi went fishing again, while Mrs. Bunker took the other children for a ride in one of Uncle Fred's wagons, with Daddy Bunker to drive. She went to call on a neighbor, about five miles away; a lady who used to live near Mrs. Bunker, but whom she had not seen for a long while.
Laddie, Russ and Violet had fun fishing, and caught enough for Bill Johnson to cook for supper.
"Come on!" called Laddie to Russ that evening, after they had played for a while out near the barn. "Let's go over and get a drink out of the spring."
"All right," agreed Russ. "Maybe we can see what makes it dry up."
"Maybe a bad Indian does it," suggested Laddie. "If I saw him do it I'd lasso him."
"So would I—only they won't let us have lassos any more."
"Well, maybe they would if they knew we could catch an Indian," went on Laddie hopefully. "Come on, anyhow." Then off they started toward the spring.
"Oh, look!" exclaimed Russ, who had run on ahead. "The water's all gone again!"
"It is?" cried Laddie. "Oh, we'd better go and tell Uncle Fred! Let me see!"
He hurried to his brother's side. Surely enough, there was hardly a pailful of water in the bottom of the spring. And the stream that trickled in through the rocks at the back had stopped.
"Do you s'pose the bad men are taking any more of Uncle Fred's cattle?" asked Laddie. "He said they did that when the spring went dry."
The two little boys managed to dip up a drink in the half a cocoanut shell, and then they looked about them. Night was coming on, and the sun had set some little time before.
"Hark! what's that?" asked Russ, listening.