Part 19 (1/2)

It was not such a difficult matter, after all, to win permission from Miss Sallie and the major to take the walk through the forest. The major explained to Miss Sallie that Stephen was a safe and careful guide who knew the country by heart, and that if the girls were equal to the walk there would be no danger in the excursion. The party, however, dwindled to five persons, Bab and Ruth, Stephen, Jimmie and Alfred. The latter appeared early, equipped for the walk, carrying a heavy cane, his trousers turned up over stout boots.

”Now, Stephen,” said Miss Sallie, ”I want you to promise me to take good care of the girls. You say the woods are not dangerous, although a highwayman stepped out of them one evening and attacked us with a knife.

But I take your word for it, since the major says it is safe and I see Alfred is armed.”

Everybody laughed at this, and Alfred looked conscious and blushed.

”Doesn't one carry a cane in this country?” he asked.

”Not often at your age, my boy,” replied Jimmie. ”But I daresay it will serve to beat a trail through the underbrush.”

”Come along, girls; let's be off,” cried Stephen, who at heart was almost a Gypsy, and loved a long tramp through the woods. He had strapped over his shoulder a goodly sized box of lunch, and the cavalcade started cheerfully down the walk that led toward the forest, a compact ma.s.s of foliage lying to the left of them.

”Isn't this fun?” demanded Jimmie. ”I feel just in the humor for a lark.”

”I hope you can climb fences, girls,” called Stephen over his shoulder, as he trudged along, ahead of the others.

”We could even climb a tree if we had to,” answered Bab, ”or swim a creek.”

”Or ride a horse bareback,” interrupted Jimmie, who had heard the story of Bab's escapade on the road to Newport.

”This is the end of uncle's land,” said Stephen, at last. ”We now find ourselves entering the black forest. Here's the trail,” he called as the others helped the two girls over the dividing fence.

”All right, Scout Stephen,” replied Jimmie. ”We are following close behind. Proceed with the march.”

Sure enough, there was a distinct road leading straight into the forest, formed by ruts from cartwheels, probably the carts of the woodcutters, Stephen explained. The edges of the wood were rather thin and scant, like the meagre fringe on a man's head just beginning to turn bald at the temples; but as they marched deeper into the forest, the trees grew so thickly that their branches overhead formed a canopy like a roof.

Squirrels and chipmunks scampered across their path and occasionally a rabbit could be seen scurrying through the underbrush.

”Isn't this great!” exclaimed Stephen, after they had been walking for some time. ”Uncle says there's scarcely such another wood in this part of the country.”

”Don't speak so loud, Stephen,” said Jimmie. ”It is so quiet here, I feel as if we would wake something, if we spoke above a whisper.”

”Let's wake the echoes,” replied Stephen and he gave a yodel familiar to all boys, a sort of trilling in the head and throat that is melodious in sound and carries further than an ordinary call. Immediately there was an answer to the yodel. It might have seemed an echo, only there was no place for an echo in this shut-in spot.

They all stopped and listened as the answer died away among the branches of the trees.

”Curious,” said Jimmie. ”It was rather close, too. Perhaps one of your woodcutters is playing a trick on us, Stephen. Suppose we try again, and see what happens!” Jimmie gave another yodel, louder and longer than the first. As they paused and listened, the answer came again like an echo, this time even nearer.

”Let's investigate,” proposed Alfred. ”I think it came from over there,”

and he led the way through the trees toward the echo.

”Halloo-o,” he called, ”who are you?” and the answer came back ”Halloo-o, who are you?” followed by a mocking laugh.

”Well, after all, it isn't any of our business who you are,” cried Stephen, exasperated, ”and I don't think we had better leave the trail just here for a fellow who is afraid to come out and show himself,” he added in a lower tone.

There was no reply and they returned to the cartwheel road and began the march again.

”You were quite right, Stephen,” said Ruth, ”why should we waste our time over an idler who plays tricks on people?”