The night was far spent, and the air at their altitude was crisp and chill. Below them a fog had settled over the canyons and gullies, blotting the landscape entirely from the sight of any one above the mist line. But, though there was no moon, objects could be made out with reasonable distinctness on Sokoki Leap, where the girls, their guardian and the guide were sleeping more or less soundly. Toward morning, however, Tommy awoke with a start. She twitched and jerked, rolled herself into a ball, straightened out again and twisted and turned, wide awake and nervous. Her rope being long, the guide was not disturbed—at least, not then.
An owl hooted high in a ledge above their camping place. It hooted three times. Tommy rose, throwing off her blanket. She stood shivering in her kimono, for the air had grown chilly, undecided whether to awaken the camp or lie down again. Finally she sank down and rolled over and over in her blanket, this time determined to wrap up so snugly that the cold could not reach her.
Then came the interruption, starting with a scream so terrifying as to awaken every member of the party and to frighten the owl into sudden silence. Shouts were heard from all sides. The girls began struggling to free themselves from their blankets. To do this some of them rolled toward the guide, others from him, according to the way they had rolled themselves in their blankets before going to sleep. Harriet was the first to free herself from the folds of the gray blanket that enveloped her. She leaped to her feet, crying out, "What is the matter now?"
A strange sight met her gaze. Janus was sliding over the shelf, half rolling, half slipping, in a mysterious fashion. At the same time the others of the party were performing strangely, getting up, falling down, as, entangled in their blankets, they staggered dangerously near the edge of the rocky shelf, apparently unmindful of their peril.
"Catch me! Jump on the rope!" yelled the guide.
Harriet's quick eyes, now wide open, caught the significance of the scene. Without an instant's hesitation she sprang toward Janus, fairly hurling herself upon him. One hand grabbed a taut rope that was straining with some heavy weight pulling on it at the other end.
Janus sat up as the girl threw her own weight on the line to assist in holding it until the guide should have recovered himself.
"Oh, what has happened?" cried the guardian.
"Some one is over the edge," answered Harriet almost breathlessly. "Quick! Find out who it is."
"It's Tommy!" screamed Margery Brown.
Miss Elting sprang toward the edge of the shelf.
"Stop!" thundered the guide. "Careful! Don't rush. Take it easy. All the rest of you stay back. You go cautiously to the edge, Miss Elting, and find out just what shape she's in."
Grubb gave his commands in a quick, business-like tone; at the same time he removed his belt and unfastened the girls' ropes.
Margery began to scream again. Jane grasped and shook her.
"Stop that! Tommy's doing enough howling for the whole party," she exclaimed.
Tommy's cries were all-sufficient—heart-rending, in fact. Harriet motioned to Jane to come and assist in holding the rope. Jane responded promptly.
"May I go and help?" questioned Harriet eagerly.
"Yes. It's a good idea. Keep her quiet if you can," urged Miss Elting. "She is likely to saw the rope in two at the rate she is floundering about. I hope her belt is strong enough to hold."
"Oh my stars, what a mess!" groaned Jane McCarthy.
"It's worse than that," answered Janus, but he did not explain just what danger threatened the screaming little girl.
Harriet turned the rope over to her companion and hurried to the edge of the shelf, where she stretched herself on the rock with her head protruding over. What she saw was an object that resembled a great spider suspended from a silken thread. The spider was dangling in the air, with arms and legs working frantically. The poor little spider, in this instance Tommy Thompson, was slowly turning from side to side, clawing frantically at the smooth side of the mountain when her hands got into position where she could touch it. Miss Elting was trying to soothe her. Harriet adopted a different policy.
"Tommy!" she cried sharply.
"Oh, thave me! Thave me!" wailed the little tow-headed girl.
"Do you want to drop clear to the bottom?" demanded Harriet.
"No, oh, no! Thave me! I'll be good. I'll—"
"You'll be down there in a heap if you don't stop struggling. Listen to me! Are you going to stop that screaming and do something for yourself, or are we to let you hang there until to-morrow morning?" continued Harriet.
"Yeth, oh, yeth! I'll be good. I'll do whatever you tell me. But thave me. Pleathe thave me!" sobbed the unhappy little Tommy.
"Stop clawing. Let your body hang limp. Don't make a move, and keep quiet. You confuse us. Remember, if you struggle you are likely to pull us over with you. I am going to get something; then I shall try to pull you up. Hazel and Margery, stay close to Miss Elting. Miss Elting, will you look after them while I go to hunt a stick?"'
"Come over here by me, girls," commanded the guardian in response to the request. "Now, stand perfectly still. Tommy's life may depend upon your doing only what you are told. A Meadow-Brook Girl is a sort of soldier, and a soldier is not a good soldier unless he can take and obey orders."
Hazel was trembling a little, Margery a great deal, but the words of the guardian served to quiet and steady both girls.
Harriet came running toward them, carrying a round stick, a piece from a small sapling that the guide had picked up for firewood. This she cautiously slipped under the rope at the edge of the shelf, prying the rope up a little in order to do so, thus sending Tommy into a fresh outburst of terror when she felt the added movement of the rope.
"Miss Elting, I think you had better manage the stick. You are not likely to lose your presence of mind. Hazel and Margery may help me pull Tommy up. Be sure not to let the rope drag over the sharp edge of the stone, or we may lose her."
Margery indulged in a fresh attack of shivering. Hazel gripped her arm, whispering, "Brace up, dear!"
"Oh, I can—n't," sobbed Margery. "My knees won't hold me up."
"Now, girls," called Harriet cheerily, "take hold of the rope, but be gentle about it. Remember, a sharp jolt might be a serious thing for Tommy. It might jerk Miss Elting over, too, so be very careful. Now, Tommy, we are going to pull you up. Don't reach for the rock. It won't help you any to do so. Just hang limp. Try to imagine that you are a bag of meal and we are pulling you up for the muffins to-morrow morning."
"Oh, I can't laugh," wailed Tommy.
"Then cry, if you wish, but don't make a noise doing it. Shed all the tears you wish to, but let them be silent tears. Now then!"
Harriet stepped back, taking firm hold of the rope. She was near the edge of the shelf, Hazel directly behind her, with Margery still farther back.
"When you are ready, Miss Elting! Let us know when you wish a fresh hold." Harriet was perfectly calm outwardly.
"Ready!"
"All together! One, two, three—pull! Steady; not so violently. This is a small rope, and——"
"Whoa!" interjected the guardian sharply.
"We are taking up the slack back here. Good work for you girls," encouraged the guide.
"What is it? Oh, what is it?" screamed Tommy.
"Stop that noise!" commanded Harriet. "Everything is all right!"
"Ready again," commanded Miss Elting. "One, two, three—pull!"
Tommy came up about a foot this time. Her progress was slow, but it was, at least, sure.
Jane and the guide were acting as anchors, at the same time assisting in pulling on the line, holding down when the pauses came.
After every pull Miss Elting would call a halt while she worked the round stick down over the edge of the rock to keep the rope from being unduly worn. In this way Tommy came up little by little, now and then uttering a sharp scream at some unexpected jolt. Once, when the rope slipped from the round stick, Tommy felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, but pluckily recovered herself. She clenched her fists until the nails almost cut into the flesh of her hands, and all the time she was wondering if the belt that seemed to be cutting her in two would hold or break. Those on the ledge above were wondering much the same thing. They were operating with extreme caution for that very reason.
"You are almost up to us, Tommy," encouraged the guardian. "Be very careful. Make no sudden moves. Don't try to take hold of the edge when we get you level with it. We shall have to pull you over the last two or three feet by taking hold of you. Then we will have something to be thankful for, won't we?"
"Yeth," wailed a weak voice from over the side.
"Ready!"
This time Tommy came up so close that the guardian was able to touch her. Miss Elting leaned over and patted Tommy on the shoulder reassuringly.
"One more long, strong pull and we shall have you within a little way of safety. Girls, are you ready for the last pull?"
Margery was breathing heavily, Hazel, too, was taking short, excited breaths.
"Yes, when you are ready," answered Hazel. "Get ready back there, ready to hold fast after the last pull. Don't give way the fraction of an inch," called Harriet. "This is like things I have read about Alpine climbing, except that I guess they don't pull them up dangling in this fashion."
"Pull!" called the guardian. "Steadily and slowly this time."
The girls were breathing heavily now.
"Stop!"
"Oh, am I up?" wailed the little, lisping girl.
"Yes. Now be perfectly quiet. Harriet, can you help me?"
"Yes. All hold fast. I am going to let go. Step back a little farther, girls. There!"
"We have it," shouted Janus.
"We have," cried Crazy Jane.
Harriet stepped forward.
"Hold up your arm, Tommy," directed the guardian. "You take that arm, Harriet. Now one foot, Tommy. I'll take that. Don't move about any more than you can help. Wait! Her arm first. Have you got it, Harriet?"
"Yes."
Snap! Tommy uttered a wild scream of terror. Miss Elting was reaching for the upraised foot.
Tommy's belt gave way when her foot was almost within the guardian's grasp, and her slender body shot downward.
Such screams as rose from over the ledge none of that party ever had heard. Harriet, it will be remembered, had hold of the little girl's hands, or rather one hand, when Tommy's belt broke. The jolt was so great that it seemed to the two girls as if their arms would be pulled from their sockets.
Tommy thought, too, that she was being hurled to her death when she felt herself falling. But Harriet, with unusual presence of mind, had clutched the little girl's hand with a desperate grip.
"Give me the other hand," she panted.
"I—I can't," sobbed Tommy, who immediately began to wriggle in an attempt to reach the shelf.
"Then keep quiet. Don't stir." Instead of keeping quiet, the girl, now fairly beside herself with fear, began a series of lunges for the ridge above her. The result was what Harriet had feared. She felt herself slipping forward toward the edge. In those few seconds Harriet Burrell came nearer to realizing what fear was than ever before. To let go would be to save herself at the cost of Tommy's life. Harriet not only held on; but reached over her free hand which she clasped over that of her companion. Now she slipped more than ever. Her companions did not seem to realize what had occurred. It had all come about so quickly that they did not quite comprehend.
"Grab me!" cried Harriet. "I've got her! Why don't you do something? I'm slipping over. Quick! For mercy's sake, move!"
Jane McCarthy, who, with Janus, was still clinging to the rope, now dropped it and sprang forward. Jane went down on her knees, grasping Harriet by the ankles.
"Hold me! Are you all asleep?" shouted Jane.
Janus awakened suddenly. But Miss Elting was a little ahead of him. The guardian sprang behind Jane and slipped both arms around the latter's waist.
"Help Harriet!" she cried.
Janus ran forward with a rope, making a noose in it as he ran. The guide went down on his knees beside Harriet Burrell.
"Can you swing her a little without dropping her?" he shouted.
"Yes, but she'll be dreadfully frightened."
"We can't help that. Swing her," commanded Janus.
Harriet did so, bringing from Tommy Thompson a series of terrified screams. If any one else heard he must have believed that some one was being killed. But her shouts and screams did no harm. The guide took quick advantage of the opportunity offered by Harriet to slip the loop in the rope over one of Tommy's feet, then draw it taut.
"I'm caught. Mercy, I'm caught!" screamed Tommy.
"Hang on to her! Don't let go! Stop that yelling until I tell you what to do!" commanded the guide. "We're going to pull you up the best way we can git you up. If you don't like it, don't fight; just yell. Hold her as she is, Miss Harriet, while I give her foot a yank."
He really did jerk on the rope, but more for the purpose of tightening the loop than for any other reason. Of course, the proceeding was followed by an ear-piercing scream. Janus promptly began to pull up on the line. Tommy's foot came up with it, leaving the other foot and one arm dangling in the air nearly two hundred feet from the bottom of the cliff.
"Pull when we get her level. No; the rest of you folks keep back, or we'll all be over, first thing we know. There! Over she comes!" With a final effort they had landed Tommy on the shelf. She was sobbing pitifully. Her ordeal had been sufficient to upset the strongest nerved person.
"You poor darling," cried Miss Elting, gathering the terror-stricken Tommy in her arms and staggering to the rear of the shelf, where she placed the terrified girl on a blanket.
Harriet sat back where she was. She was breathing heavily from her exertions, and further than this she admitted to herself that she was a little faint. But not for worlds would she have her companions know this.
"Better get back," advised the guide. "One is enough."
"Don't trouble about me. I will as soon as I get my breath. That was a hard position in which to do any lifting."
"I reckon. I take off my hat to you, Miss Burrell. This outfit isn't in such great need of a pilot. You could get along without me and never miss me for a minute except when it comes to toting a pack, and even then I guess you could do without me, especially if that young lady threw a dish or so overboard after every meal," he added jocularly.
"Is there any wood?"
"Yes. There you are again. I never think of anything. I get lost wondering what's going to happen next. You sit down. I'll attend to the fire. It is cold. You are shivering, aren't you"?
"I—I believe I am." Harriet got up and walked over to her companions. She walked rather unsteadily, but they were too much upset themselves to observe it. Tommy lay on a blanket with face buried in her arms, sobbing, every fourth sob being a hysterical moan. Harriet sat down beside the unhappy little girl, slipping an arm about her waist.
"It's all over now, honey. Don't cry."
"I'm thick! Pleathe give me thome—thome water."
"Water," called Harriet. "Is there any? If not, let Mr. Janus get it, if he will."
"If she can wait a few moments we'll all have some hot coffee," answered the guide. But Tommy could not wait. She insisted on having a drink of water, so the guide brought it to her. This seemed to take the girl's mind from her recent fright, and lying on her back Tommy Thompson gradually became quiet and surveyed the guide's coffee-making through half-closed eyes.
"Do you think you can go to sleep?" asked Miss Elting, stooping over the recumbent Tommy.
"Not until I get thome coffee," answered Tommy, gazing up soulfully into the anxious face of the guardian.
Margery laughed almost hysterically. It was the first laugh that had been heard in camp for some time, so it was welcome, helping to relieve the tension as it did. Tommy turned her eyes on her stout friend in a droll way which set Margery to giggling afresh.
The fire was crackling by this time. Harriet dragged Tommy's blanket up closer to it, that she might get some of its warmth. Janus, looking unusually solemn, was boiling water for the coffee.
"She had a pretty narrow escape," he nodded, observing Harriet's eyes upon him.
"Indeed she did," agreed Harriet, with a slight shudder.
"No more sleep for me this night," cried Crazy Jane. "It's my opinion that that wild Indian chief put a hoodoo on this rock, as well as on the lake below. I shouldn't be surprised at most anything happening here."
"Yes. Suppose the wall should fall in?" suggested Margery, gazing apprehensively up the side of the granite wall, on which the light from the fire was reflected in arrow-like shafts.
"Will you stop that?" demanded Jane. "Haven't we had trouble enough for one night without your suggesting anything else?"
"You started the subject yourself," reminded Harriet.
"Who would like a bite to eat with her coffee?" interrupted the guardian. "Tommy, would you like to have a biscuit?"
"Oh, no, thank you."
"I would," declared Margery.
"Yeth. Buthter ith never thatithfied. Thhe is always hungry," taunted Tommy.
"And you've got over your scare," added Jane significantly.
The guardian set out some biscuits and lumps of sugar on a piece of paper. The condensed milk was not brought. Everyone with the exception of Harriet and Tommy was possessed of keen appetites after their trying experiences. Janus, too, ate three biscuits and drank three cups of strong coffee.
"Better have some," he urged, glancing at Harriet, who had refused the coffee.
"I guess Harriet is ill, too," suggested Margery.
"I wish to sleep to-night. I shouldn't sleep a wink were I to drink that black stuff, nor will you."
"You watch us and see," chuckled Margery.
"Tommy, how did you come to get over the edge?" questioned the guardian, now that the little girl had begun to feel better.
"You certainly cannot blame our enemy for this accident," declared Jane.
"I wonder if he did push Tommy over?" Margery's eyes were large as she voiced the question.
"Nonsense!" retorted Harriet Burrell.
"Yes. That's what I say," agreed Miss Elting.
"I suppose she will lay it to me," chuckled the guide.
"Yeth, I ought to," nodded Tommy. "But we agreed not to fight any more, didn't we?"
"We did," he replied very gravely, "and we are not going to, are we?"
Tommy shook her head.
"Not before to-morrow, I gueth. I'm too tired to fight. Did I furnithh you with exthitement enough for one night?"
"Will you listen to her?" laughed Crazy Jane. "Little Tommy Thompson fell off the mountain to furnish us with excitement. Of course we are satisfied. We forgive you for all your tricks, and we don't care how much excitement you furnish if you will only keep your feet on something solid. We came within a little of all going over with you in our fright."
"Ithn't that nithe?" glowed Tommy. She was recovering her spirits. "I thhould have had company."
"That is a very ill-timed remark, Tommy," answered Miss Elting in a severe tone. "I am surprised at your flippancy. I really believe you enjoyed our fright."
"Yeth. Didn't you hear me laugh when I wath down there?"
"I wouldn't say such things if I had made as much trouble as Tommy has," declared Margery.
"Of courthe you wouldn't," agreed Tommy. "You haven't a thenthe of humor."
"Some people have no sense at all," flung back Buster.
"We have forgotten something," interrupted Harriet. "Tommy's blanket is down there somewhere. We ought to have it before going on in the morning. You may keep mine for to-night, if you wish. You are going to sit up the rest of the night, are you not, Mr. Grubb?"
"Yes. I'll take no more chances with this party on Sokoki Leap. I'll keep the fire going the rest of the night, too. Fix your blankets so your feet will be toward the fire. The Indians would say, 'Indian keep him head cool, feet warm.'"
"We have done better than that this evening," answered Jane laughingly. "We managed to keep our head and feet warm at the same time."
"I should say we have," mused Harriet. "But what about the blanket? We do not wish to lose it."
"I'll go down and get it in the morning," said Janus. "You needn't wait breakfast for me; I'll have something to eat before leaving. But do be careful. I don't want to have the little one falling down the rocks and landing on my head when I get there. Better turn in as soon as possible, young ladies. We have a mighty hard trail ahead of us in the morning, and some more slippery granite to climb. Another thing, you'd better put another belt on Miss Thompson. You'll find some leather and a buckle in my kit. There's sewing material there also."
"How far shall we have to climb?" asked Hazel.
"'Bout a thousand feet, as a bird flies," Janus answered, with a careless gesture.
"Ob, thave me!" wailed Tommy desperately. "I can't thtand any more."
"Why, Tommy, we've hardly begun yet," Harriet retorted smilingly.
"Maybeyouhaven't, but thome of uth have about finithed," asserted the little, lisping girl.
"For once, Tommy and I agree," groaned Margery.
Not long after the girls turned in for the second time that night. Daybreak would soon send its gray light into their camp on Sokoki Leap. But the day ahead of them was not fated to be, in all respects, a time of calm. Tommy Thompson and even her better-poised companions were to have further opportunities for distinguishing themselves.
A brilliant sun, gilding the peaks of Chocorua and shining in her eyes, awoke Harriet Burrell.
A panorama of sunlit hills, still darkened caverns and gorges, precipitous cliffs and sombre ravines caused the Meadow-Brook Girls to exclaim joyously. Thin, silvery ribbons in the landscape showed where foaming brooks ran. There were short waterfalls, long cascades, bright little lakes and countless valleys of green.
"It's too beautiful to be real!" throbbed Harriet Burrell as she unwound herself from her blanket and started to replenish the fire.
The coffee pot was already on the fire, supported by two stones. It was steaming and sputtering. Then, for the first time, she observed that Janus Grubb was nowhere in sight. Harriet got up and tip-toed softly to the edge of the cliff, where she lay down flat, peering over. At first she saw nothing of interest; then all at once she caught sight of a moving speck at the foot of the cliff.
"It's Janus!" she exclaimed. "Why, he doesn't look any larger than a chessman. I wonder how much would have been left of Tommy had she fallen down there?"
Harriet shuddered at the thought of her companion's narrow escape—the narrow escape of the entire party, for that matter. Crawling cautiously back, she lay gazing off over the valley. "The poisoned lake" lay in plain view. The girl pondered over the tragedy of which the guide had told them. Such tragedies, such deeds of violence as he had named, should have no place in a peaceful scene such as this, thought Harriet.
"Harriet!" She turned her head to find Miss Elting sitting up with a worried expression on her face.
"For pity's sake, come away from there! My nerves will not stand many more such shocks as we had last night."
"Why, I am not afraid," answered Harriet.
"What are you doing there?"
"Watching Janus. He is down below. You ought to take a peep at him. He looks so small and so funny."
"Thank you. I am well satisfied to take your word for it. Will you please come away from there?"
"Certainly, if you wish it." Harriet got up promptly and walked back, stepping over her companions, then sitting down beside the guardian.
"You are a brave little girl, Harriet, dear," said Miss Elting softly, patting the brown head affectionately. "But don't you think you are just a little bit foolhardy?"
"I—I hadn't thought about it," answered the girl, flushing. "I do not mean to be."
"I know. You are thoughtless of your own peril. You know we must not let anything happen to any of our party. We want to have other happy summers in the open together; and, were anything serious to occur to any member of our party, that would end it. Neither your parents nor those of the other girls would permit them to go out again in this way. Will you promise to be more careful in future?"
"I don't like to do that; I am afraid I might not keep my promise," admitted Harriet, hanging her head. "But I will promise to do the best I can and not to take any more chances than I have to."
Jane awakened at this juncture and lay blinking at them for a moment, after which she sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"Good morning, Misses Owls. Have you two been croaking there all night?"
"No, Jane, dear, we have not. We have been conversing for the past ten or fifteen minutes. Previous to that time I was peeping over the edge at Mr. Grubb, who is down there looking for Tommy's blanket. Still farther back than that I was sound asleep. Miss Elting has been reading me a lecture. It is your turn now."
Margery sat up at this juncture. She unrolled her blanket, flung it aside, and, going to the wall, sank down against it, resting her still heavy head in her hands.
"What's the matter with you, Margery?" questioned Jane.
"Matter?" complained Buster. "One might as well try to sleep in that boiler factory at Meadow-Brook as in this camp."
"That's so, Little Sunshine; I agree with you. This is a dynamite as well as a boiler factory, with an explosion twice, every day and at least once in the night."
"Dynamite?" piped Tommy. "Where ith it?"
"There, you see! You have awakened every one of us except Hazel," complained Jane. "Now, go on talking and you'll waken her, too; then we'll all be awake, and can think about cooking breakfast."
"Jane McCarthy, you can talk more and say less than any person I ever knew," exclaimed Margery petulantly.
"I agree with you, Little Sunshine. I agree with every word you have said this morning, and I'm going to come right over there and kiss you for your sweetness. Isn't she good-natured, and so early in the morning, too?" laughed Jane, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
A shout of laughter greeted Crazy Jane's naive words. The shout awakened Hazel. Margery dropped her hands from her face. Her petulant mouth relaxed into an unwilling smile; then she burst out laughing.
"I thought I'd chase away that sour face," teased Jane.
"I'll look crosser than ever if you don't stop," threatened the stout girl.
One by one the girls went over to the rivulet and washed. There was not much water to be had, but it made up in coldness what it lacked in quantity and freshened them greatly. Harriet started to prepare the breakfast as soon as she had washed and dried her face and hands. The dishes were set out on the granite shelf, and there, more than two thousand feet in the air, the Meadow-Brook Girls sat down to their morning meal. Janus had not returned by the time they finished, but came in about half an hour later. He had the blanket and the handle of the frying-pan that Tommy had dropped. He said that was all there was left of the frying-pan. He thought the handle might be useful somewhere, so had brought it back with him.
"I suggest that we take the handle home and frame it. We might give it to Tommy as a souvenir," suggested Harriet.
"Never mind. I've thouvenirth enough as it ith. I've got thouvenirth all over my perthon," declared Tommy.
"You may have more before the day is done," chuckled Jane, pointing to the heights that they were to climb that day. Tommy eyed them askance. She did not fancy what was before her, but with a sigh of resignation went about getting her pack ready for starting. The other girls were now doing the same, Janus passing on the packs after they had been made ready. To have a pack come open while climbing a steep mountain would mean the loss of almost everything in that pack. But the danger of this was not so great now as though the luggage were being carried on pack horses.
The start was made in a leisurely manner. Janus halted every little while to point out some interesting feature of the landscape, or to relate some legend of the past associated with this or that particular bit of mountain scenery. An hour had been occupied in this easy jogging before they came to the sheer climb that lay before them. This latter was more than a thousand feet, but the guide proposed to take the greater part of the day for it. There was no need for haste, as the journey could be made easily before night.
As one gazed up the jagged side it did not seem possible that anything other than a bird could make the ascent. It looked a sheer wall from where the girls stood, the projections and jutting crags appearing perfectly flat to them. Even Harriet Burrell and Miss Elting were a little dubious.
"Do you think it safe?" questioned the guardian apprehensively.
"No. Mountain climbing is never safe," replied Janus. "It can be done, and easily at that, if that's what you mean. Shall we go ahead or go back, Miss?"
"Ahead, of course," the guardian nodded.
Janus got his line ready, a small but strong and pliant rope. He nodded to his party, glanced up for the most favorable starting point, then began to go up. The Meadow Brook Girls followed in single file. Miss Elting bringing up the rear. Now the guide passed the rope to them as the ascent became more precipitous. Up and up wound the trail. The climbers kept a firm grip on the life line, for a misstep here would mean a bad tumble, and might take others down also. At times the girls were out of sight of each other, like the ends of a train rounding a sharp curve. The advice of the guide to "look up, never down," was followed by each one. In fact, none dared to look down, fearing to lose her head and grow dizzy.
Up and up wound the trail.[Illustration: Up and up wound the trail.]
Up and up wound the trail.[Illustration: Up and up wound the trail.]
"We rest here," announced Janus, after they had been climbing for an hour without once stopping during that time. It was not a particularly desirable place in which to rest, being located on a steep slope, but the spot was surrounded by bushes, so that, when all came together and sat down, they could see nothing of the rugged mountain scenery about them.
"Better get out some biscuit or something to munch on, for we shan't find a place where we can cook a meal until we get nearly to the top. We'll have to rest hanging on by our eyelids after this," declared Janus.
"No more mountain climbing for me," declared Margery.
"This is nothing," chuckled the guide. "Wait until you climb Mt. Washington."
"Wait until I do!" nodded Margery with emphasis.
"That is to be our next," Miss Elting informed them. "By the time we have finished that I think we shall be seasoned mountain climbers."
"Yeth. And we'll have the habit so badly that we'll be climbing telephone poleth every day when we get home," averred Tommy. "I withh my father could thee me now. He wouldn't thay hith little girl wath lathy, would he?"
Janus got up and walked out where he could look about him. He stood stroking his whiskers reflectively, glancing critically at the rocks above; then along a narrow, barely indicated trail around the side of the mountain. He turned on his heel and returned to where his party lay stretched out on the rocks. There were rents in their clothing, their boots were scratched and cut from contact with sharp points of rocks, and the faces of the Meadow-Brook Girls were red and perspiring.
"I reckon we'll go around another way," decided Janus. "It's too steep here. You'll ruin your clothes. No need of it at all. You will get just as much fun out of the roundabout way as by climbing straight up."
At first the girls protested that they did not wish to take the easier way, but when he assured them it was just as hazardous, they were satisfied.
"This new way we will see some scenery that is scenery, and you'll have a chance to look at it, which you wouldn't have in the straight-up climb. You see, you'd be too busy hanging on. I wanted to show you the 'Slide' anyway," he added.
"What ith the 'Thlide'?" questioned Tommy.
"You will see when you get to it; one of the curiosities of Chocorua, and a lively one. They say the Indians used it when in a hurry to get down the mountain or to escape from their enemies. But, mind you, I don't expect any of you young ladies to follow the example of the Indians. Now, shall we move along?"
Interested in this new proposal, the girls sprang up, eagerly announcing their readiness to push on. Janus led the way to the right, instead of following the perpendicular trail. The former trail led them around a jutting point of rock, then over boulders, irregular slabs and crags, obliging them to pick their way with caution and cling to the life line.
They were now following a sort of spiral; for, though the party seemed to be encircling the mountain, they were rising gradually toward the blue dome of the summit. Here and there a mountain bird, dislodged from its perch, would hurl itself out into space, giving the girls a start, and threatening, for the moment, their equilibrium. But they did much better than the guide had hoped for. Greatly to his relief, he was not obliged to go to the rescue of a Meadow-Brook Girl that day.
About noon, however, Margery Brown got a blister on her right heel, and Hazel turned one of her ankles. This put an end to the mountain climbing for the time being, but not to the hanging-on. The girls perched themselves behind rocks for support while the guardian was dressing the sprain and the blister. Janus went on to look over the trail and pick out the easy places. While they were waiting for Miss Elting to attend to Margery and Hazel, the guide returned with an armful of dry sticks.
"We aren't going to starve even if we can't move on," he cried cheerily. "I promised you that you shouldn't have a warm meal until we reached the summit this evening. I'm going to give you a surprise, though. Now, what will you have?"
"I think I'll have a thirloin thteak," answered Tommy.
"A cup of coffee will help me, I am sure," declared Harriet.
"I would eat the frying-pan handle if I couldn't get anything better," added Jane. "Mountain climbing is something like work, eh?"
Janus bolstered up his dry wood in a crotch formed by a jutting rock, and built a fire where one would scarcely have believed it were possible to do so. He got water from a little spring just above them, and by the time Miss Elting had disposed of her patients for the moment the water for coffee was boiling. But there was no setting of a table. To have put a dish down on that slope would have meant to lose it, and they had too few dishes to be able to afford to lose even one.
The coffee was drunk without milk, though lumps of sugar were produced from each girl's blouse pocket and dropped into her cup with much laughter. They made the best of their circumstances; but when, about the middle of the afternoon, Miss Elting informed the guide that she did not think Hazel's ankle would permit of her going any further that day, there was a flurry in the mountainside camp.
The guide declared that they must go on until a suitable camping place were reached, but how he did not say until he had consulted his whiskers and studied the valleys below. He then gravely announced that he would carry Hazel on his back. She promptly declared that she would not permit it, and Miss Elting agreed with her. Then Janus rose to the occasion by telling them that he would make a litter if one of the young ladies thought she could bear up one end of it. Both Harriet and Jane settled the matter by declaring they could carry the litter with Hazel in it.
Janus made the litter by first laying two ropes on the ground about eighteen inches apart. On these at right angles he tied sticks until the affair resembled a carrier belt on a piece of machinery. A loop with a stick rove into it was arranged at each end and a blanket was thrown over the litter, which was then pronounced ready. None of them ever had seen anything like it. The girls feared the litter would sag so that no one could ride on it without being dragged along the ground. Janus said the advantage in a rope litter was that they could go around a bend with it and not break the side pieces, and, furthermore, that it was soft and had plenty of give. Jane winked at Harriet, Hazel looked troubled, while Tommy's face assumed a wise expression.
"Now for the start," called the guide, taking the front end of the litter, after all was in readiness. "The one who takes the other end had better not carry her pack, but lay it on the litter."
"I prefer to have my pack on my back. I know where it is then," remarked Harriet.
"Now, hadn't we better strap Hazel to the litter?" proposed Jane thoughtfully.
"It is not necessary. There's no danger," declared the guide promptly.
"All right, then," nodded Harriet. "But, Hazel, if you wish my advice, you'll take pains to hold fast."
The leader of the Meadow-Brook Girls lifted the loop over one shoulder, passing it under one arm with the end stick resting slantingly across her back. Janus took up the other end after Miss Elting had carefully helped Hazel upon the litter, which tilted dangerously.
"Be careful not to drop me," begged Hazel. "It's a shame I'm so helpless that I have to be carried, though Mr. Grubb says it isn't far to the camping spot."
"Pick your way carefully, bearers," urged Miss Elting.
"Wait! Let me get ahead of you," begged Tommy, scrambling forward. "I don't like the lookth of that thing." Miss Elting and Jane followed behind the litter, with which Harriet and Janus made good progress, though Hazel had to do some clever balancing in order to keep the affair right side up.
For nearly half an hour the two bearers bore their burden without halting. It proved easier work than Harriet had expected, and perhaps that fact gave her too great assurance. The way was growing steeper and narrower, with sharp fragments of rock on the trail, and below them, alongside, the tops of dwarfed mountain trees.
All at once Harriet stubbed her toe, plunging forward and tilting the litter so that it turned turtle, like a cranky hammock. With a little scream of alarm Hazel Holland pitched out headfirst and took a graceful, curving dive into the top of a tree just below them. The others saw her feet disappear in the foliage, heard a muffled cry for assistance, then silence.