CHAPTER XVIITHE ICE CAVE
Along the road, through pleasant fields, and into the woods rumbled the big farm hay wagon, driven by Adam North. In the wagon sat the six little Bunkers with their father and mother and Farmer Joel. For Farmer Joel had decided that, after the haymaking, he was entitled to a holiday. So he stopped work and went on the picnic with the six little Bunkers.
“How much farther is it to the picnic grounds?” asked Vi, after they had ridden for perhaps half an hour.
“Not very far now,” answered Farmer Joel.
“Is it a nice picnic grounds?” went on the little girl who always asked questions. “And is there——”
“Now, Vi,” interrupted her mother, “suppose you wait until we get there and you cansee what there is to see. You mustn’t tire Farmer Joel by asking so many questions.”
“Well, I only wanted to ask just one thing more,” begged Vi.
“Go ahead. What is it?” chuckled the good-natured farmer.
“Is there a swing in the picnic woods?” asked Vi, after a moment’s pause to decide which question was the most important.
“Well, if there isn’t we can put one up, for I brought a rope along,” answered Adam North. He liked to see the six little Bunkers have fun as much as the children loved to play.
“Oh, a swing! Goodie!” cried Violet.
“I want to swing in it!” exclaimed Mun Bun.
“So do I!” added Margy.
“I can see where there’s going to be trouble, with only one swing,” murmured Daddy Bunker, smiling at his wife.
“Oh, they can take turns,” she said.
The wagon was now going through the woods. On either side were green trees with low-hanging branches, some of which met in an arch overhead, drooping down so far thatthe children could reach up and touch the leaves with their hands.
“Oh, it’s just lovely here,” murmured Rose, who liked beautiful scenery.
“I see something that’s lovelier,” said Russ.
“What?” asked Rose. “I don’t see anything. You can’t get much of a view down here under the trees, but it’s beautiful just the same.”
“Here’s the view I was looking at,” said Russ, with a laugh, and he pointed to the piles of lunch boxes and baskets in the front part of the hay wagon. “That’s a better view than just trees, Rose.”
“Oh, you funny boy!” she laughed. “Always thinking of something to eat! Don’t you ever think of something else?”
“Yes, right after I’ve had something to eat I think of when it’s going to be time to eat again,” chuckled Russ.
Deeper into the woods went the picnic wagon. The six little Bunkers were talking and laughing among themselves, and Farmer Joel was speaking to Mr. and Mrs. Bunker and Adam about something that had happened in the village that day.
Suddenly there was a cry from the children, who were in the rear of the wagon, sprawled about in the straw.
“Laddie’s gone!” exclaimed Rose.
“Did he fall out?” asked Mrs. Bunker.
“No, it looks more as if he fellup!” shouted Russ.
And that, indeed, is almost what happened. For, looking back, Mr. and Mrs. Bunker, saw Laddie hanging by his hands to the branch of a tree he had grasped as the wagon passed beneath it. The little fellow was swinging over the roadway, the wagon having passed from beneath him.
“Hold on, Laddie! I’ll come back and get you!” shouted Mr. Bunker.
“In mischief again!” murmured Russ.
“Whoa!” called Adam, bringing the horses to a halt.
“Hold on, Laddie! I’ll come and get you!” called Mr. Bunker again, as he leaped from the hay wagon.
“I—I can’t hold on!” gasped Laddie. “My—my hands are slipping!”
The green branch was slowly bending overand Laddie’s hands were slipping from it. Then, when he could keep his grasp no longer, he let go, and down to the ground he fell, feet first.
Luckily Laddie was only a short distance above the ground when he slipped from the branch, so he did not have far to fall. He was only jarred and shaken a little bit—not hurt at all.
“Laddie, why did you do that?” his father asked him, when he had reached the little fellow and picked him up. As Mr. Bunker carried Laddie back to the waiting wagon Russ remarked:
“I guess he thought maybe he could pull a tree up by the roots when he caught hold of the branch like that.”
“I did not!” exclaimed Laddie. “I just wanted to pull off a whip for Mun Bun to play horse with. But when I got hold of the branch I forgot to let go and it lifted me right out of the wagon.”
“It’s a mercy you weren’t hurt!” exclaimed his mother.
“I should say so!” added Farmer Joel.“It’s safer for you to think up riddles, Laddie, than it is to do such tricks as that. Come now, sit quietly in the wagon and think of a riddle.”
“All right,” agreed Laddie, as again he took his place in the straw with the other little Bunkers. But he did not ask any riddles for a long time. Perhaps he had been too startled. For surely it was rather a startling thing to find himself dangling on a tree branch, the wagon having gone out from under him.
However, in about fifteen minutes more Laddie suddenly cried:
“Oh, now I know a riddle! Why is a basket——”
But before he could say any more the other children broke into cries of:
“There’s the picnic ground! There’s the picnic ground!”
And, surely enough, they had reached the grove in the woods where lunch was to be eaten and games played.
It was a beautiful day of sunshine, warm and pleasant. Too warm, in fact, for Mrs. Bunker had to call to the children several times:
“Don’t run around too much and get overheated. It is very warm, and seems to be getting warmer.”
“Yes,” agreed Farmer Joel, as he looked at the sky. “I think we’ll have a thunder shower before the day is over.”
“We didn’t bring any umbrellas,” said Mrs. Bunker.
“If it rains very hard we can take shelter in a cave not far from here that I know of,” said Mr. Todd.
“Oh, a cave! Where is it?” asked Russ, who was lying down in the shade, having helped put up the swing. “Could we go and see it?” he inquired.
“After a while, maybe,” promised Farmer Joel.
Rose helped her mother spread out the good things to eat. They found some flat stumps which answered very well for tables, and after Mun Bun and Margy and Laddie and Violet had swung as much as was good for them, and when they had raced about, playing tag, hide-and-seek, and other games, the children were tired enough to sit down in the shade.
“We’ll eat lunch after you rest a bit,” said Mrs. Bunker.
“Ah, now comes the best part of the day!” murmured Russ.
“Silly! Always thinking of something to eat!” chided Rose. But she smiled pleasantly at her brother.
How good the things eaten in the picnic woods tasted! Even plain bread and butter was almost as fine as cake, Laddie said. He was trying to think of a riddle about this—a riddle in which he was to ask when it was that bread and butter was as good as cake—when suddenly there came a low rumbling sound.
“What’s that?” asked Margy.
“Thunder, I think,” was the answer.
Mun Bun, who was playing a little distance away, came running in.
“I saw it lighten,” he whispered.
“Yes, I think we’re in for a storm,” said Farmer Joel.
The thunder became louder. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds. The picnic things were picked up. Mrs. Bunker was glad lunch was over.
Then down pelted the rain.
“Come on!” cried Farmer Joel. “We’ll take shelter in the cave!”
He led the way along a path through the woods. The others followed, Mr. Bunker carrying Mun Bun and Adam North catching up Margy. The trees were so thick overhead that not much rain fell on the picnic party.
“Here’s the cave!” cried Farmer Joel, pushing aside some bushes. He showed a dark opening among some rocks. In they rushed, for it was a welcome shelter from the storm.
“Oh, but how cool it is in here,” said Rose.
“Yes,” answered Farmer Joel. “This is an ice cave.”
“An ice cave!” exclaimed Russ. “Is there really ice in here in the middle of summer?”
Before Farmer Joel could answer a terrific crash of thunder seemed to shake the whole earth.