Carroll Watson Rankin

“ As she bent closer to the golden head, it seemed to Mabel that she could detect a sound of breathing, rather heavy breathing, Mabel thought; a little like Mrs. Crane's, when that good lady snored.
Mabel crouched patiently near the prostrate lad and listened. The labored breathing certainly came from that recumbent boy.
"But," argued Mabel, "if he's only taking a nap, why is he all tangled up in that net? And there's that life-preserver. He's been wrecked and tossed up, I believe. And he's still all wet underneath. Perhaps I ought to wake him up—he ought not to sleep in such wet clothes." ”

“ Mrs. Mapes, Doctor and Mrs. Tucker, and the Bennetts were delighted with Pete's Patch and went quite wild over the scenery; but it was clear to everybody that Henrietta's decidedly aristocratic little grandmother and Marjory's overwhelmingly neat Aunty Jane had never been intended by nature for camp life. Mrs. Slater, to be sure, enjoyed the fine sky, the wonderful expanse of blue water, the beautiful golden-brown river, and the deep, cool forest. ”

“ After dinner, every one, except Bettie, who was compelled by solicitous Mrs. Crane to curl up with the kitten under a tree for a nap, went exploring.
That was great fun, for exploring is interesting, anyway, even if you haven't anything bigger to explore than your own back yard. But when you have a whole wilderness, with a little of every kind of landscape there is dotted about, here and there; and always so unexpectedly that you don't know what you're coming to next, exploring becomes just the very jolliest pursuit there is. ”

“ Crane wrapped her patient in a warm blanket.
When she returned with the broth, intending to force it by spoonfuls into the lad's mouth, she realised that a great change had taken place in her patient. The fever flush was gone from his cheeks, leaving him pale and clammy; but now, for the first time since his arrival in Pete's Patch his eyes were open. They were big and very, very blue.
"Well," greeted Mrs. Crane, "this is something like! Awake, are you? Don't be frightened, poor lamb—you're as safe here as if you were in your own bed. Open your mouth, there's a good boy. ”

“ Mabel, the first to plunge in, had collided with a horribly prickly object that grunted like a frightened pig and scratched like a thousand needles. Then, as girl after girl rubbed against Terrible Tim, who had somehow escaped and was calmly eating their tallow candle, a chorus of shrieks rang forth. This outcry, of course, sent Mr. Black flying to the rescue. And Mrs. Crane, roused at last and puzzled by the presence of Mr. Saunders, joined the relief party.
"It's Terrible Tim!" shrieked Marjory. "He's in all our beds!"
"We'll let him go," declared Mr. Black. "He's too troublesome a pet." ”

“ Crane had spread for a cloth, were eating their ample and delicious meal, the sky was so wonderful and the lake so marvelous with its calm surface touched lightly to burnished copper, that the castaways all but forgot that they were castaways, until Mr. Black brought them back to earth.
"There's only one thing that troubles me," said he, "and that's the mothers and grandmothers [45] and Aunty Janes that we left in Lakeville."
"Yes," agreed Mrs. Crane, pouring a second cup of cocoa for Bettie, "they're sure to worry. No matter how far we've gone in the Whale, we've always been home by bedtime." ”

“ And I'm glad I brought my old gray shawl; it's as warm as a blanket."
"If it turns cold," said Mr. Black, "we'll build a big fire just outside the open end of our house. But I think it's going to be a comfortably warm night—— There, I've got that plank fastened at last and our palatial home is finished. And bless me! Here comes the pillow brigade with all its petticoats turned into pillow-cases; and the brigade all giggling. They're certainly a happy lot, Sarah."
"Mine's for Mr. Black," shouted Mabel.
"Mine's for Mrs. Crane," shrieked Marjory. ”

“ And anyhow, who wants clothes?"
"There's just one thing that we do want," said Mrs. Crane, "and that's news for our Billy-boy. He's so uneasy that he can't rest. In fact, we're all uneasy—in a state of suspense——"
"Well," returned Mr. Black, "worrying won't hurry matters, so you'd better amuse yourselves with other things—perhaps Saunders will help."
Saunders did help; nevertheless, it was hard to wait; for by this time Laddie-Billy was quite certain that he was a friendless waif, a homeless orphan, or, at best, a hopelessly lost youngster with only half a mind. ”

“ Crane noticed that Jean's dark hair had been blown about her face, that Henrietta's, too, was flying about in loose locks, and that the loose canvas at the doorway of the big tent was flapping noisily.
"Look at the lake!" cried Marjory. "It's all mussed up and queer, like something boiling. I hope Captain Berry got home safely."
"The wind is in his favor and he has had sufficient time. But that's a pretty angry sea—I guess Dave and I had better pull those boats to the top of the bank, after supper. We're going to have some waves that are waves before morning." ”

“ Doctor Bennett, Doctor Tucker, Marjory's Aunty Jane, and all the mothers stood on the sidewalk to see the merry party started on its way. Henrietta's dignified little grandmother sat in her carriage.
"Don't worry if we're late," said Mr. Black, turning to this trusting assemblage and not guessing how very late he was going to be. "The other end of our road may prove a trifle heavy; the day's so fine that we're not going to hurry, anyhow. Good-by till you see us again—we'll take the very best care of all your precious girls. ”

“ They gathered flowers, mushrooms, firewood, birch bark, moss, ferns, and even a few wild strawberries. Dave, who was mysterious in his comings and goings, taught them how to make willow whistles and promised to show them some day how to catch chipmunks.
"I think," said Jean, when the campers had assembled for supper, "that this camp should have a name. We might call it 'Camp Comfort.'"
"Everybody that has a camp," objected Mr. Black, "calls it that. Let's have something truly poetic."
"We might," suggested Henrietta, "name it the Black Basin."
"That," demurred Bettie, "seems awfully pirate-y. ”

“ Even Marjory smiled forlornly at the idea of Dave's taking a bath. But smiles did not last long that day. In spite of all the good things that came in baskets and bundles, in spite of a big box of candy that Saunders had included for Mabel and Henrietta, and inscribed "With the Game Warden's Compliments," the sympathetic little girls were very unhappy at the thought of losing Marjory. They had always played together; and now they were absolutely certain that they couldn't have good times during the rest of their stay with no Marjory to help enjoy them. ”

“ Crane. "I didn't like his breathing—it sounded too much like pneumonia yesterday; but it's a bit better to-day. And I'll try those baths."
"I haven't much faith in your mustard plasters," asserted Mr. Black, teasingly. "You're too tender-hearted to make one strong enough to do any good."
"I'm not," retorted Mrs. Crane; "but there's no sense in blistering folks."
"I'm glad there's a really sick person in this camp," said Bettie, "because now, perhaps, I can persuade you to believe that I'm most as well as ever. I had two long walks yesterday and I feel just fine to-day." ”

“ Crane tucked all her little charges—even to the kitten—away for the night.
[47]
"I'm so sleepy," yawned Mabel, "that I could sleep on cobblestones."
"We'll leave a big place for you, Mrs. Crane," promised Jean, thoughtfully, "and we'll remember not to lean too hard against the walls."
"Ugh!" exclaimed Marjory, "isn't it queer without sheets!"
"This bed feels good to me," murmured Bettie, drowsily.
"Not a word more from anybody," said Mr. Black, who had donned his fur automobile coat and was crawling like a big shaggy bear into his triangular den. "It's time all honest people were asleep." ”

“ I tell you what, Sarah! Suppose we take a run up there in the automobile and have a look at it. There used to be a road—it's probably there yet."
"Why couldn't we make a picnic of it and take Bettie and the girls?" asked good Mrs. Crane, instantly falling in with her brother's plan. "Seventeen miles is no distance at all for [11] the car—I'm sure Bettie could stand it because she could get a nap there as well as at home."
"We could," agreed Mr. Black, "and I guess there'd be room for Henrietta, too—she'll want to go."
"I always did enjoy a picnic," confessed Mrs. Crane, a little sheepishly. ”

“ Crane was ready with a bowl of broth. Once he did not fall asleep immediately but followed her with big, questioning blue eyes as she moved about the tent. He remained awake for twenty minutes that time and even moved his hands slightly.
"You've been real sick," explained Mrs. Crane, sociably, her soft dark eyes very kind and encouraging. "You're pretty weak yet, but you're twice the boy you were yesterday. ”

“ Crane (they were sitting on the porch to keep an eye on Bettie, who, in spite of the gorgeousness of her swaying couch, had fallen asleep) , "that child ought to stay outdoors all the time. That rectory is a stuffy place, crowded up against the church and right in the smoke of two factories. As soon as she's strong enough to stand it, she ought to go camping—some place on the lake shore where the air is pure."
"Of course she ought," agreed Mr. Black, heartily. "It's the best tonic in the world for growing children—there's nothing like it in bottles." ”

“ A third brought them to a tiny unsuspected lake, dotted with lily pads.
"This," said quick-eyed Marjory, pointing northwestward, when the explorers had returned for the third time to the sunny clearing, "is the widest trail of all."
"For my part," said Mr. Black, "I don't know why there should be any trails here at all. No one has lived here for four years. Sometimes fishermen come here in gasoline launches for a few days in the spring, or hunters for a week or two in the fall, but never in sufficient numbers to make as marked a trail as this—we must certainly investigate this one." ”

“ Somewhere, however, on that fearfully tumultuous sea, one direly threatened craft was still abroad, and, what is a greater marvel, still afloat. At best, the ancient yawl was but a poor excuse for a ship; now, at her worst, she was little more than a raft. Driven before the wind, tossed here and there by the buffeting waves, she carried a solitary passenger and only a little one at that. ”

“ But I'm sure they'll remember that you've never lost any of us yet, or starved us, or let us freeze."
"Granny will think," assured Henrietta, giggling at the thought, "that we're staying at a hotel, waiting for repairs on the Whale. [46] She always thinks of hotels as a safe refuge for the homeless—she couldn't imagine a spot without a convenient hotel."
"Well, if nothing rescues us to-night," promised Mr. Black, "I'll walk to Barclay's Point at six to-morrow morning and hail that fish-boat. It leaves Lakeville six times a week at daybreak." ”

“ Naturally Mabel, who was inordinately fond of sweet things and who had had no candy for a week, forgot all about her gray sweater, so near the color of the rocks that nobody else noticed it. But, notwithstanding the discomfort she endured without it, she was glad afterwards that she had forgotten it. ”

“ A lot of men are coming this afternoon with a tug and a big flat scow to take [286] the Whale home—I suspect she'll have to go to the factory for repairs. There'll be room on the scow for us and all our belongings besides. But cheer up. We won't need to start until along toward night."
"So this is our last day," mourned Jean.
"Dear me," sighed Bettie, "we'll never have so splendid a time again."
"We'll come again next summer," promised Mr. Black, "unless you get so young-ladyfied at your boarding school that you won't want to camp."
"You just wait and see," said Marjory. ”

“ Twenty minutes later the boat that was not Captain Berry's dropped anchor in the little bay.
"It's people!" Marjory exclaimed, as the [200] smaller launch swung about. "It looks like a picnic."
"Dear me," said alarmed Mrs. Crane, "I hope they've brought their own lunch—we couldn't give them much. And I feel like hiding in the woods—we're terribly in need of starch and flatirons."
"They're waving," cried Bettie. "I do believe they're visitors for us. Oh, I guess they want a boat."
Mr. Black, who had hastened to the launch with one of the small boats, was first to recognize the passengers. ”

“ I guess you think I'm pretty queer."
"Don't worry," soothed Jean. "You're not strong yet. You'll be all right when you're well."
"Think so?" demanded Billy, brightening. "Then I'll eat all the broth Mrs.—some kind of a bird—brings me."
"She's making some now," said Bettie, "from a piece of Dave's venison. We'll have all sorts of good things to eat as soon as Mr. Saunders gets to town. He said he'd travel as fast as he could—I guess he's pretty lame."
"But," groaned Jean, "he can't possibly get anything here before to-morrow and I'm just starved for pie." ”

“ Black's flock.
"You can string the skins and wear those," suggested Henrietta, wickedly, for she delighted in teasing Mabel. "You've seen pictures of Fiji Islanders, haven't you? Well, no doubt you'll come to that."
"Never mind," soothed Jean, the peacemaker. "Mother always sends a lot more of everything than anybody needs; so perhaps I'll be able to lend you a thing or two. I'd do anything to stay."
"How is it with you, Sarah?" asked Mr. Black. "Do you want to go home?"
"Peter," replied Mrs. Crane, "this is home."
"I'm beginning to think," said Mr. Black, "that we were all born wild Indians. ”

“ Mabel and all the other girls knew that Dave had every reason to fear the game warden. The youthful castaways, who were not very clear as to the duties of game wardens in general, considered them the natural enemies of all hunters and fishermen. Dave had once shown the girls a battered, yellowed newspaper containing a full-length picture of a brawny, khaki-clad game warden arresting a lawless sportsman. ”

“ Crane, "I'll get Mahjigeezigoqua to wash the dishes and make the beds, and I'll go, too. I don't care if I do get rheumatism—I haven't been fishing [253] for years. And that young woman loves to do things for us."
"No wonder," said Jean, "after all you did for Rosa Marie last winter."
"Put on your very oldest shoes," ordered Mr. Black. "You're to wade the river—Dave says it's shallow all the way down, except in a few spots where we can follow a trail along the bank. He's cutting poles for everybody." ”

“ At three o'clock Mahjigeezigoqua, Rosa Marie's really beautiful mother, parted the branches that fringed the pool and peered at the strange object upright in the water.
"Oh!" cried weary Mabel, in sudden excitement, "do come and get me—a rope, a boat, anything——"
"Can you hol' on som' more?" demanded the young woman, testing the ground with a cautious foot. ”

“ Crane, noting that the boy's eyes, in spite of his best efforts, were closing wearily. "He doesn't stay awake very long at a time."
"Good-by," said Mabel, cheerfully.
"Come again," breathed the boy, sleepily.
Of course Mabel felt very important indeed when the other youthful castaways, waiting impatiently just outside the tent, seized her and wanted to know all about it.
"He's awfully thin," said Mabel, condescending finally to answer some of the eager little girls' questions. "And his eyes are perfectly huge and sort of twinkly. And blue; yes, bluer than Marjory's. ”

“ Some persons have an instinct for following trails. Jean had it, Marjory had it to a lesser degree; but Mabel and Henrietta were without it; while Dave, Indian that he was, could see trails where none existed for any one else. Since Jean possessed the trail-instinct, she walked ahead, while Mr. Black, in order to keep Mabel and Henrietta from straying from the path, marched behind. Mrs. Crane remained in camp with Bettie, who was not yet permitted to take long walks. ”