CHAPTER IX
QUEEN ZELAYA
Ruth and her chum were both a little troubled by Tom Cameron'sdeparture, but even Helen had braced up and was determined not to showher fear. The situation of the girls in the auto on this lonely road wasenough to trouble the mind of any person unfamiliar with the wilderness.
The shore of Long Lake (which they could see from their seats in thecar) was as wild as any stretch of country through which they hadtraveled during the two days of the tour.
The stalled auto was on the main-traveled road, however, and there was achance of somebody coming along. Ruth and Helen hoped that if thishappened, it would be somebody who would remain with them until Tom'sreturn.
Both kept this wish a secret, for each tried to cheer the other.Perhaps, had it not been for that adventure at the old house shortlybefore, neither girl would have felt so nervous.
The outlook from the stalled auto was very attractive, if wild. Theycould overlook a considerable part of Long Lake, a stretch of itsdistant southern shore, and several islands.
The edge of the water was perhaps half a mile away, and the groundsloped abruptly from this road toward the lake. Following the very edgeof the water was another road, but one which the girls knew nothingabout and could scarcely see from the auto.
It was merely a brown ribbon of cart-path through the second-growthtimber, and it wound along the hillside, sometimes approaching veryclose to the main highway. Before the county had built the better road,this path had been the trail to Boise Landing.
Had the girls been looking that way, they might have seen, through asmall break in the trees, some minutes after Tom left them, a string ofodd-looking wagons moving slowly along this lower trail.
First two men walked ahead, smoking their pipes and plowing through themud and water without regard to where they stepped. Then followed threefreshly painted green wagons--vehicles something like old-fashionedomnibuses, but with windows in the sides and front, and a door and stepsbehind. Through the roof of one a stovepipe was thrust.
Behind followed a troop of horses, with two bare-legged, wild-lookingyoungsters astride each a barebacked steed, and holding the others withleading-reins. These horses, as well as those drawing the wagons, weresleek and well curried.
A multitude of dogs ran in the mud and water, too, but there were nowomen and children about, save upon the front seats of each van with thedrivers. Sounds from within the green vehicles, however, proclaimed thepresence of a number of others.
They were a strange-looking people--all swarthy, dark-haired,red-lipped, men and women alike having their ears pierced. The rings inthe lobes of the women's ears were much larger than the ornaments inthose of the men.
At a certain opening in the shrubbery, the men ahead, looking upward,beheld the stalled auto and the two girls in it. One man held up hishand and the first wagon stopped. So did the remainder of the caravan.
The two spoke together, and then strode back to the first green van. Thewindow behind the driver's seat was already open and a strange faceappeared at it.
The man driving this van was young and rather handsome--in the same wildway that Roberto was handsome. Beside him sat a comely young woman,buxom of figure, with a child in her lap. Her head was encircled with ayellow silk kerchief, she wore a green, tight-fitting bodice, and hershort skirt was of a peculiar purple. She wore black stockings and neatblack pumps on her feet.
Between these two on the seat, from the open window, was thrust thewicked, haggard head of a woman who might have been a hundred from thenetwork of wrinkles in her face, and her generally aged appearance. Buther eyes--black as sloes--were as sharp as a bird's. Her lips were gray,thin, and drew back when she spoke, displaying several strong, yellowfangs rather than teeth!
When she spoke, it was with a hissing sound. She used the speech of theGypsy folk, and the others--even the rough men in the road--were veryrespectful to her. They explained the stoppage of the caravan, andpointed out the auto and the girls above.
It was evident that one of the men had suggested something which pleasedthe hag, in regard to the strangers in the motor-car. She grinnedsuddenly, displaying gums and fangs in a most horrible grimace.
Nodding vigorously, she gave them some commands, and then spoke to thecomely woman beside the driver. The latter passed the sleeping infantback to the old woman, who disappeared into the interior of the van. Theyounger woman leaped down into the road, and waiting beside the tworough men, allowed the entire caravan to pass on, leaving them behind.
It was fast growing dark. The sun had disappeared behind the hills inthe west, and long shadows were stretching their gaunt hands out for thegirls in the auto. The chill wind which came after the tempest made themshiver, although they were somewhat sheltered by the curtains which Tomhad arranged.
"I suppose we _could_ snuggle down here with the robes, in the tonneau,and spend the night in some comfort," suggested Ruth Fielding.
"Oh! don't mention it!" exclaimed her friend. "If Tom doesn't come backwith a team, or with another auto, I'll never forgive him."
"Of course he will return. But he may be delayed, Helen."
"This auto-touring isn't as much fun as I thought it would be," groanedHelen Cameron. "Oh! what's that?"
She peered out of the automobile. There was a handsome, smiling, darkyoung woman standing in the road beside the car.
"Young ladies," said the stranger, in a pleasant voice, "are you introuble? Can I help you at all?"
"My goodness me! do you live near here? Can we go home with you?" criedHelen, in excitement.
"Wait!" breathed Ruth, seizing her chum's arm, but Helen was too anxiousto escape from her present situation to listen to Ruth.
"For if you'll take us in till my brother gets back from SevernCorners----"
"We are going to Severn Corners--my husband and I," said the woman,smiling.
"Oh! then you do not live near here?" cried Helen, in disappointment.
"Nobody lives near here, little lady," explained the stranger. "Nobodylives nearer than Severn Corners. But it is lonesome here. We will takeyou both on in our wagon--nobody shall hurt you. There is only myhusband and baby and the old grandmother."
"Where is your wagon?" demanded Ruth, suddenly hopping out into the roadand looking all about.
"Down yonder," said the woman, pointing below. "We follow the lowerroad. Just there. You can see the top of it."
"Oh! A bus! It's like Uncle Noah's," declared Helen, referring to theancient vehicle much patronized by the girls at Briarwood Hall.
"Who are you?" demanded Ruth, again, with keen suspicion.
"We are pedlars. We are good folks," laughed the woman. She did, indeed,seem very pleasant, and even Ruth's suspicions were allayed. Besides,it was fast growing dark, and there was no sign of Tom on the hilltopahead.
"Let's go on with them," begged Helen, seizing her chum's hand. "I amafraid to stay here any longer."
"But Tom will not know where we have gone," objected Ruth, feebly.
"I'll write him a note and leave it pinned to the seat."
She proceeded to do this, while Ruth lit the auto lamps so that neitherTom, on his return, or anybody else, would run into the car in the dark.Then they were ready to go with the woman, removing only their personalwraps and bags. They would have to risk having the touring car strippedby thieves before Tom Cameron came back.
"I don't believe there are any thieves around here," whispered Helen."They would be scared to death in such a lonesome place!" she added,with a giggle.
Ruth felt some doubt about going with the woman. She was so dark andforeign looking. Yet she seemed desirous of doing the girls a service.And even she, Ruth, did not wish to stay longer on the lonely road.Something surely had happened to detain Tom.
In the south, too, "heat lightning" played sharply--and almostcontinuously. Ruth knew that this meant the tempest was raging at adistance and that it might return to this side of the lake.
The thought of being ma
rooned on this mountain road, at night, in such astorm as that which they had experienced two or three hours before, wasmore than Ruth Fielding could endure with calmness.
So she agreed to go with the woman. Tom would know where they had gonewhen he returned, for he could not miss the note his sister had left.
At least, that is what both girls believed. Only, they were scarcely outof sight of the car with the woman, when one of the rough-looking men,who had walked ahead of the Gypsy caravan, appeared from the bushes,stepped into the auto, tore the note from where it had been pinned, andat once slipped back into the shadows, with the crumpled paper in hispocket!
Now the girls and their guide were down on the lower road. There was atwinkling light that showed the green van, horses, and the handsomedriver--and the man looked like Roberto.
"They are Gypsies, I believe," whispered Ruth.
"Oh! you have Gypsies on the brain," flung back her chum. "At least, weshall be dry in that bus, if it rains. And we can find somebody atSevern Corners to put us up, even if there is no hotel."
Ruth sighed, and agreed. The woman had been speaking to the man on theseat. Now she took the lantern and went around to the back of the van.
"This way, little ladies," she said, in her most winning tone. "You mayrest in comfort inside here. Nobody but the good old grandmother and mybebe."
"Come on!" said Helen to Ruth, leading the way.
There was a light in the interior and it dazzled the girls' eyes, asthey climbed in. The door snapped to behind them, and the horses startedalong the road before either Ruth or Helen were able to see much oftheir surroundings.
And strange enough their surroundings were; berths on either side of thestrange cart, made up for sleeping and covered with gay quilts. Therewere chests and boxes, some of them padlocked, and all with cushions onthem for seats.
There was a table, and a hanging lamp, and a stove. A child was asleepin one of the bunks; a white-haired poodle lay crouched at the child'sfeet, and showed its teeth and snarled at the two visitors.
But the appearance that amazed--and really startled--the girls most wasthe figure that sat facing them, as they entered the van. It was thatof an old, old crone, sitting on a stool, bent forward with her sharpchin resting on her clenched fists, and her elbows on her knees, whileiron-gray elf-locks hung about her wrinkled, nut-brown face, halfscreening it.
Her bead-like eyes held the girls entranced from the first. Ruth andHelen looked at each other, startled and amazed, but they could notspeak. Nor could they keep their gaze for long off the strange oldwoman.
"Who are you, little ladies?" croaked the hag at last.
Ruth became the spokesman. "We are two girls who have been motoring overthe hills. Our motor-car broke down, and we were left alone while myfriend's brother went for help. We grew fearful when it became dark----"
The gray lips opened again: "You own the motor-car, little ladies?"
"My friend's father owns it," said Ruth.
"Then your parents are wealthy," and the fangs suddenly displayedthemselves in a dreadful smile. "It is fine to be rich. The poor Gypsyscarcely knows where to lay her head, but you little ladies have greathouses and much money--eh?"
"Gypsy!" gasped Helen, seizing Ruth's hand.
Ruth felt a sinking at her own heart. All the stories she had everheard of these strange, wandering tribes rushed in upon her mind again.She had not been afraid of Roberto, and the woman who had brought themto the van seemed kind enough. But this old hag----!
"Do not shrink from the old Romany woman," advised the hag, her eyessparkling again. "She would not hurt the little ladies. She is a queenamong her people--what she says is law to them. Do not fear."
"Oh, I see no reason why we should be afraid of you," Ruth said, tryingto speak in an unshaken voice. "I think you all mean us kindly, and weare thankful for this lift to Severn Corners."
Something like a cackle broke from the hag's throat. "Queen Zelaya willlet nothing befall you, little ladies," she declared. "Fear not. Herword is law among the Romany folk, poor as she may be. And now tell me,my little birds,--tell me of your riches, and your great houses, and allthe wealth your parents have. I love to hear of such things--even I,poor Zelaya, who have nothing after a long, long life of toil."
Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies; Or, The Missing Pearl Necklace Page 9
