Meg of Mystery Mountain

by Grace May North

  CHAPTER XVII. QUEER KITTENS

  Left alone, Julie and Gerald scrambled to the road and looked both up anddown. "Which way will we go?" Julie inquired.

  "We've been down--or, I mean, we've been up the down road." Then the boylaughed. "Aw, gee! You know what I mean. We came up the road yesterday inthe stage; so now, let's go on further up."

  Julie hopped about, clapping her hands gleefully. "Ohee, I know what!Let's see if we can find that cabin the innkeeper lady said was about amile up the mountain road from our place. Wouldn't that be fun? And maybethat nice girl will be at home from school, and, if she is, I just knowshe'll let me ride her pony."

  Gerald, nothing loath, fell into step by his sister's side, the gun overhis shoulder. After the fashion of small brothers, he could not resistteasing. "I bet you couldn't stay on that pony, however hard you tried.It's a wild Western broncho sort, like those we saw at Madison SquareGarden that time Dad took us to Buffalo Bill's big circus." Then, in amanner which seemed to imply that he did not wish to boast, he added: "Isort of think I could ride it easy. Boys get the knack, seems like,without half trying."

  They had rounded the bend and were nearing the very spot where themountain girl had shot the lion, when Julie clutched her brother's armand drew him back, whispering excitedly: "Gerry! Hark! What's that noiseI hear?"

  The boy listened and then crept cautiously toward the bushes. He alsoheard queer little crying sounds that were almost plaintive. "Huh!" hesaid boldly. "'Tisn't anything that would hurt us. Sounds to me likekittens crying for their mother."

  A joyful shout from the girl, closely following him, turned into "Gerry!That's just what they are! Great big kittens! See how comically theysprawl? They haven't learned to walk yet. Their little legs aren't strongenough to stand on. See, I can pick one right up. He doesn't seem to minda bit." The small girl suited the action to the word, and it was well forher that the mother lion had been killed, or Julie would soon have beenbadly torn, despite the fact that her brother still carried his smallgun.

  The boy had lifted the other weak creature, which had not been alive manydays, and, with much curious questioning as to what kind of "pussy cats"they might be, they continued their walk and soon reached the cabin.

  Meg Heger, who had remained long in the forest that day, having sought arare lichen high on the mountain, was just descending from the trail thatled into her "botany gardens" when she saw the two children entering thefront yard of her home cabin. Unbuckling the basket which she carriedmuch as an Indian squaw carries a pappoose, the girl leaped down therocks and exclaimed: "Oh, children, where did you find those darlinglittle mountain lion babies?"

  Luckily she took the one Julie was holding in her own arms as she spoke,for if she had not, that particular "baby" would have had a hard fall,for when the small girl from the East heard that she was actually holdinga mountain lion, she uttered a little frightened scream and let go herhold. But Gerald, being a boy, realized that even a future fierce wildanimal was harmless when its legs were too weak for it to stand on, andso he continued to hold his pet, even venturing to admire it.

  "It's a little beauty, ain't--I mean, isn't it?" He glanced quickly atJulie, but the slip had evidently not been observed, for she was intentlywatching the mountain girl, who was caressing the little creature sheheld as though she loved it, as she did everything that lived in all thewilderness.

  But as Meg Heger held that helpless, hungry baby her heart was sad, forwell she knew that it was unprotected and perhaps starving because shehad shot and killed its mother. Of course she had to kill the lion tosave the life of the lad who had gone too close to the place where themother had her young; but, nevertheless, she felt that, in a way, her acthad made her responsible for these helpless little wild creatures, sincethey had been brought to her.

  Brightly she turned to the children. "Don't you want to come with me tothe hospital?" she invited. "We'll give them some supper."

  She did not ask who the children were, nor from whence they had come.Perhaps she remembered having seen them the day before on the stage; orSourface Wallace may have told her.

  Julie and Gerald followed, wondering what the "hospital" might be.

  Back of the cabin, on a rocky ledge, the children saw a queer assortmentof wooden boxes, small cages and little runways. "This is the hospital."Meg flashed a merry smile at them over her shoulder. "There aren't manypatients just now. Most of them have been cured. Here's one littledarling, and I'm afraid he never will be well. Some prowling creaturecaught him and had succeeded in breaking a wing when it heard me coming.Why it dropped its prey when it ran, I don't know, but I brought thelittle fellow home and Pap helped me set its wing. It's ever so muchbetter, but even yet can't fly, but it can scuttle along the ground justever so fast."

  Gerald was much interested.

  "What kind of a bird is it, Miss Heger?" he began, very politely, whenthe girl's musical laughter rippled out. "Don't call me that!" shepleaded. "It makes me feel as old as the thousand-year pine TeacherBellows told our class about. It's a little quail bird, dearie. You'llsee ever so many of them in flocks. There are sixty different kinds ofcousins in their family. The Bob Whites with their reddish brown plumagehave a black and white speckled jacket. They live in the grass ratherthan in trees and are good friends of the farmer because they devour somany of the insects that destroy grain and fruits. This one is a mountainquail; it is one of the largest cousins. The one that lives in the Southis called a partridge."

  Gerald listened politely to the life history of the pretty bird, but hisattention had been seized and held by what Meg had said about the veryancient pine. "Was there ever a tree that lived a thousand years?" heasked with eager interest. The girl nodded. "Indeed, there are many thathave lived much longer, but this pine was blown over, and Teacher Bellowswas allowed to cut it up to read its life history. He found that it hadbeen in two forest fires, and about five hundred years ago an Indianbattle had been fought near it, for there were arrow heads imbedded inthe rings that indicated that year of its life."

  Then Meg concluded with her bright smile: "Some day, when Teacher Bellowsis up here, I'll have him tell you the names and probable ages of all ourneighbor trees! It's a fascinating study."

  Julie was not much interested in the length of a tree's life and so shebegan eagerly: "Miss--I mean--do you want us to call you Meg?" sheinterrupted herself to inquire.

  The older girl nodded. Every move she made seemed to expressbubbling-over enthusiasm and interest. "Haven't you any more patients?"

  Gerry was peering into empty boxes in which there were soft, leaf-likebeds.

  "Only just Mickey Mouse. He's a little cripple! His left foot was cut offin a trap, but he gets around nicely on one stump. That's his hole overthere. I put grain and bits of cheese in front of it. Keep ever so stilland I'll put a kernel of corn right by his door. Then perhaps you'll seehis bright eyes." And that is just what happened. As soon as the cornkernel rolled in front of the hole, out darted a sharp brown nose withtwitching whiskers and two beady black eyes appeared just long enough fortheir owner to drag his supper into the safe darkness of his particularbox.

  Meg laughed happily. "He's the cunningest, Mickey is! I sometimes takehim with me in my pocket. He likes to ride there, or so it seems. At anyrate he is just as good as he can be. Often he goes to sleep, but atother times, he stands right up and looks out of the pocket, just asthough he were enjoying the scenery."

  At that moment a sharp, almost impatient cry from the small creature sheheld recalled to the head doctor of the hospital the fact that she hadstarted out to feed the baby lions. She brought milk from a cave-likeroom, only the front wall of which was wood, the rest being in themountain. "That's our cooler," she told Gerald, whom she could easilyobserve was interested in all the strange things he saw. Dipping onecorner of her handkerchief into the milk, she put it in the mouth of hertiny lion and the children were delighted to see how readily and joyful
lythe creature seemed to feast upon it. Having gathered courage, Juliewished to feed the other baby lion and then Meg suggested that they beput in a soft lined box on the rocks near, since they were used to beinghigh up. The baby lions, being no longer hungry, cuddled down and went tosleep. Gerald's conscience was troubling him. "We'll have to be going,"he said. "Nobody knows where we are." Then he hesitated. He knew that itwould be polite to ask the mountain girl to call upon them, but he wasafraid that Jane would not treat her kindly, so, in his embarrassment, hecaught Julie by the hand and fairly dragged her away as he called,"Goodbye, Meg, I'm coming up often." When they were on the down-road, theboy cautioned Julie to say nothing whatever of their adventure to theirsister, but just to Dan.