A Terrible Tomboy

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER IX

  A MOUNTAIN WALK

  'The mountains that infold In their wide sweep the coloured landscape round, Seem groups of giant kings, in purple and gold, That guard the enchanted ground.'

  'Father, where are you going?' cried Peggy one morning, sliding down thebanisters in her hurry to see why her father was pulling out his greatfishing-basket from the cupboard under the stairs.

  'Up to Llyn y Gaer, little woman, to look after the sheep. I shall stayall night at the cottage, so you won't see me home again till to-morrowevening.'

  'Oh, Father!' cried Peggy, flinging her arms round his neck in her mostbeguiling manner, '_couldn't_ you take Bobby and me with you this time?We have never been once yet, and you can't think how much we want togo.'

  'Why, my dear child, I don't know whether you could manage it. Remember,it is an eight-mile walk, and all uphill, and such a rough place whenyou get there. I am afraid I should have you both crying for Aunt Helenwhen bedtime came!'

  'Indeed we shouldn't; we're not babies!' insisted Peggy, greatlyindignant at such a suggestion. 'We can walk quite as well as grown-uppeople, and carry our own baskets. Oh, Daddy, dear, do, _do_ pleasetake us just this once!'

  'The hut's hardly fit for a girl,' said Mr. Vaughan doubtfully,beginning to relent to Peggy's coaxings.

  'Well, you've called me a tomboy often enough, so let me be a boy forto-day. Oh, Auntie, do be a darling, and persuade Father to say yes!'

  Aunt Helen paused on her way from the pantry to the dining-room, with adish of ham in one hand and a pound of butter in the other.

  'I really think they might go,' she said, 'if you don't walk too fastfor them, Robert. The weather has been so hot that it must be quite dryup there, so I hardly think they would catch cold in the cottage. Butthey must promise to behave properly, and not to get into any mischief.I can't spare Lilian to-day, or she might have gone to look after them.'

  'Oh, thank you! Of course we'll promise!' cried Peggy, clapping herhands, and flying off in the seventh heaven of joy to inform Bobby ofthe delightful prospect, nearly upsetting Nancy and the breakfast-trayin her mad career, and causing that worthy girl to wish devoutly thatschools had no holidays.

  Mr. Vaughan owned some land high up on the mountains, across the border,in Wales. He had a little rough shepherd's hut there, just sufficient toform a shelter at night-time, and every now and then he would make anexpedition to look after his sheep, or the tiny shaggy ponies which wereturned out loose to wander almost wild upon the moors.

  To go with Father upon one of these mountain excursions had been thedream of Peggy and Bobby's lives, so it was with very gay faces that,their fishing-baskets full of provisions slung over their shoulders, andold Rover trotting soberly behind, they started off on their eight-miletramp up the hillside.

  It was such a lovely summer morning, one of those brilliant, gloriousdays when the world looks as if it had been newly created, and came tous with a whiff of Paradise about it. Down in the village the cottagegardens were ablaze with flowers, and even old Ephraim had forgotten hisrheumatism, and crawled out to bask in the hot sunshine on the low wall,and called out a friendly 'Good-marnin'!' as the children went by. Pastthe forge, whence the cheery chink, chink of the blacksmith's hammercame mingled with the refrain of a stirring melody from a good bassvoice; under the spreading yew-trees of the churchyard, and out throughthe lych-gate to the old mill, where the great wheel was turning slowlyround, its dripping blades gleaming bright in the sunshine; up the steeppath through the little hazel-wood, scrambling over the ladder-likestile into the narrow lane that ran ever uphill towards the mountains,which loomed before them, rugged in outline, and shaded in a mist ofpurple blue. The hedgerows had given place to stone walls now, looselybuilt without any mortar, and with green ferns and pennywort growing inthe crevices, and forget-me-nots in the ditch below. On and up, on andup, with the great blue hills always rising higher before them, till atlength even the stone walls vanished, and they were on the baremoorland, with only a slight foot-track for a road.

  Quite out of breath with scrambling after Father's long strides, thechildren begged for mercy, and sat down to rest for a few minutes andeat their lunch by the side of a little quick-running stream.

  'It is a good place for a halt,' said Father, 'for it is the boundarybetween England and Wales. When we are over the border we shall all beTaffies instead of John Bulls.'

  The air was sweet and cool up there, delightfully refreshing after thehot climb uphill. Below them the country lay stretched out like a map,the fields looking no larger than the squares of a chess-board, and thevillage a pretty child's toy by the side of the river which wound, amere silver thread, along the valley. Far in the distance, among thetrees, the outline of the Abbey rose gray against the background of softbeeches; a little dark cloud, the only one in the whole expanse of clearblue sky, hung over it like a warning of distant danger, and Fathersighed as he looked, for to him it appeared as if the shadow of ruinwere already creeping near, and stretching a threatening hand over theold home.

  But Peggy and Bobby were at the very high-tide of happiness. Childrenlive so entirely in the present, that so long as the existing day bringsjoy, they literally take no thought for the morrow, and catching theirinfectious spirits, Mr. Vaughan shook off his forebodings, and joined inthe delight of the moment as if he were a boy once more. He hunted inthe brook for sedges, captured a Red Admiral to grace Bobby'scollection, filled his pockets with sweet gale and asphodel for Lilian'sdried vases, and made himself such a delightful companion that thechildren agreed that Father on a holiday was out and out the bestplaymate they knew.

  'Come, we must be getting on!' he said at last, when the last piece ofbread-and-butter had vanished, and the remains had been scattered forthe fishes. 'Do you see that little farm nestling in the hollow, withthe fir-trees behind it? That is our last link with civilization. Weshall find no more human habitations until we reach our hut by thelake, so we must make the most of our opportunity, and buy some milk aswe pass. They will lend us a can, and we can leave it as we returnto-morrow.'

  The farm proved, on a nearer acquaintance, to be a little one-storeydwelling built of rough stones, with a roof so covered with a mass ofgreen polypody fern as to completely hide the slate underneath. Therewas no garden, only a low wall on which the milk-cans and most of thefamily crockery seemed to be taking an airing; but a patch of potatoesand a scanty half-acre of oats lay beyond the little homestead, roughlyrailed off to keep out the marauding sheep.

  Peggy, who always liked to be first and foremost, ran on before theothers to ask for the milk, and was greeted by a furious barking from acollie-dog who guarded the doorstep, while a small, shock-headed girlpeeped shyly from behind the shelter of his rough back. At the sight ofa stranger she fled with a howl, for visitors were almost unknown onthese heights, and the child was as wild as a young rabbit. Her cry ofalarm brought out a woman, who kicked the dog yelping into the house,and looked at Peggy with as much curiosity as if she were the inhabitantof another world.

  'Please can you let us have some milk?' asked Peggy politely.

  'Dim Saesneg,' replied the woman, shaking her head, which, beinginterpreted, means, 'I can't speak English.'

  For once Peggy was at a loss, but Father soon came to the rescue, for hehad picked up a little Welsh in his expeditions on the mountains, andreadily made the woman understand, in her native tongue, what theyrequired.

  The little black cow with the long horns looked strange to eyesaccustomed to the large red and white cows at the Abbey, but her milkseemed sweet and good, and the woman sang a song in Welsh while shemilked it, to a strange, haunting kind of melody that, like most of theCeltic music, had a touch of sadness and pathos about it.

  'Ask her if she ever comes down to Gorswen, and how they get food uphere,' whispered Peggy to Father, anxious to be initiated into themysteries of life among the moors.

  'We don't go down more than once a fortnight or so f
or flour andgroceries,' was the translated reply. 'Then we bring it up on thedonkey's back. Oh yes, we walk ourselves all the way. What do we live onmostly? Bread and bacon, oatmeal and potatoes, and a few eggs. It's ahealthy life, but terribly cold in winter. No, I've never been insideGorswen Church. We go to a little chapel up here. A preacher walks overfrom Llanelly when they can spare one. Lonely? Not a bit! When you havethe cows and the pigs and the hens and the children to see to you've notime to feel lonely!'

  She looked pleased, however, to have had an opportunity for a chat, andgave them a very hearty good-bye as they took the milk-can and set offagain on their long tramp. When the little farm was out of sight, theyseemed indeed to have left the world behind them, and to be all aloneamong the hills. Oh, the boundless delight of those rolling miles ofheather, which looked like a crimson sea spreading onward towards thehorizon, and the delicious smell of the sweet-gale as they trod itunderfoot! Great flocks of plovers flew before them, screaming their'pee-wit, pee-wit!' and here and there they roused a snipe or awoodcock, while wild little ponies scampered off like the wind,indignant at having their solitude disturbed.

  The path ran for fully a mile over a bog, and the children had to followvery closely in Father's footsteps to keep a safe track over the soft,spongy surface, for Joe had told them dark tales of pedlars, travellingfrom Llanrhos to Gorswen, who had sunk into those treacherous brownpools and been heard of no more.

  At last, coming over a little rise, they saw in the distance thegleaming outline of a lake, looking like a patch of silver amongst theheather.

  'Look!' cried Mr. Vaughan. 'That is Llyn y Gaer. We shall be there inhalf an hour.'

  This was good news to Peggy and Bobby, who were beginning to think thatthe fishing-baskets were very heavy on their backs, and that it was thelongest eight miles they had ever imagined, so they hurried afterFather, who made haste now, to make up for the many halts upon the road,for the afternoon was wearing on, and there was much to be done beforenight. Close beside the lake, on a flat piece of grass sheltered under ahigh cliff, stood the shepherd's hut, a small one-roomed shanty of roughstones piled up without either mortar or plaster, and roofed with a fewtree-trunks covered with turf and heather. The tiny window was hardly afoot square, and had no glass in it, and a beautiful root of parsleyfern grew luxuriantly on the sill, while all the crevices of the wallsseemed full of lichens, bound together by the crimson stems of thecreeping pellitory.

  Father unlocked the weather-beaten door, and the children rushed in withmuch excitement. They saw a low room with a raftered roof, roughwhitewashed walls, and an earthen floor. The whole of one side wasoccupied by a great fireplace, with a chimney so wide that, looking up,you could see the sky above. Grate there was none, and the fire mustburn on the hearth-stone, but a good stack of dry peat and heather stoodin the ingle nook, evidently left ready for use. A table, a chair, andtwo boxes were all the furniture, while a few cups, plates, and knives,together with a frying-pan, a kettle, and a pair of bellows, made up therest of the modest establishment.

  'Isn't it fun?' said Peggy, putting down her heavy basket with a sigh ofrelief.

  'I should just think so!' replied Bobby, roaming round to explore, andwondering whether it would be possible to climb up the wide chimney andpeep out through the top.

  'To work! To work!' cried Father. 'We have no time to be idle if youwant any tea! Bobby, take the kettle, and fill it from the streamoutside; and Peggy, you can get some of those peats, and help me tolight the fire.'

  Father had a newspaper and a box of matches in his pocket, so, with thehelp of the dry heather, they soon had a glowing red blaze, and swungthe kettle on a hook, fastened to the end of a long chain, which hung,in true Welsh fashion, from a great beam fixed across the chimney.

  'Now, while the water boils,' said Mr. Vaughan, 'we must go and pullheather for our beds, before the dew begins to fall upon it. Come along,my two subalterns, this is camp life, and you must learn to bivouac liketrue soldiers.'

  '"The heath this night must be my bed, The bracken's curtain for my head,"'

  sang Peggy, who had been studying the 'Lady of the Lake' at school, andquoted it on all occasions. 'But we ought not to have a hut at all. Weshould just wrap ourselves in our plaids, and lie under the "silentstars."'

  'I prefer a roof over my head myself,' said Father dryly. 'But if youare so anxious to taste the romantic you may sleep in the cold outside.I'm afraid I haven't a plaidie to offer you.'

  'I'm sure a heather bed will be stunning!' declared Bobby. 'I don'tthink I shall ever want sheets and nightshirts, and horrid things ofthat sort, again. I'd like to be a hunter when I grow up, and alwayslive in tents, and caves, and jolly places, like the boys in books.'

  'It's just like the Swiss Family Robinson, only ever so much nicer,'said Peggy. 'I wish we lived up here, and then we shouldn't need to goto school, and darn stockings, and do all kinds of things we hate!'

  They pulled great armfuls of the delicious purple heather, and laid themon the floor close to the fire, for Father said it was chilly at nightsafter the sun had gone down, and they would need all the warmth theycould get. The kettle was boiling noisily by this time, so the childrenhastened to set out the cups and plates. There was no table-cloth, butthat did not matter in the least, and the absence of teaspoons wasregarded as rather an advantage than otherwise. It was so quaint to sitright inside the chimney corner, and smell the delicious blue peat smokethat was curling its way to the turf roof overhead, and to look outthrough the open doorway at the silver lake, sending gentle ripples overthe little sandy beach, and always the purple waste of heather beyond,with the mountains rising up, tier after tier, into the dim distance.

  There never were such appetites. Peggy poured out, with a grand air, asif she were officiating at some Court ceremony. Aunt Helen'shard-boiled eggs and bread-and-butter disappeared like magic, and thelittle teapot was filled again and again, till there was no more waterleft in the kettle.

  'Bobby, you simply must stop!' said Father. 'Please to remember oursupplies have to last us for breakfast and lunch to-morrow. If we eat upeverything so fast, we shall be obliged to go hungry before we get homeagain. Now I am going out to look after the sheep, and I shall leave youto clear away and wash up. If I bring you camping out up here, you mustbe my orderlies, and do the work. I generally put the cups into the pooloutside.'

  'All right,' said Peggy and Bobby, rattling the tea-things into the bigfishing-basket with a haste calculated to break anything but the stoutblue enamel ware which Aunt Helen had thoughtfully provided, and racingoutside to the little stream which flowed past the cottage into thelake.

  The bank shelved in one place, so as to form a shallow basin, and herethe children tilted in their load, sitting down on the heather for a fewminutes to wait until the running water had washed them clean.

  'Take care they are not washed away into the lake!' shouted Father afterthem. 'And keep up the fire while I am gone. I shall be in before dark.'

  And he went off for a weary tramp over the hills, with old Roverfollowing closely at his heels.

  'I wish we could have brought Rollo,' said Bobby. 'I don't believe hewould have driven the sheep all the wrong way, in spite of what Fathersays. David had to tie him up in the stable, so that he shouldn't followus.'

  'I know he'll miss us dreadfully, poor darling!' said Peggy. 'I hopeLilian won't forget to give him his biscuit to-night. I asked Nancy toremember Prickles, and Joe promised to feed the rabbits; and if Jackdoesn't get his supper he'll scold so dreadfully outside the kitchendoor that someone is sure to hear him. Oh, Bobby! I saw a fish in thepool just then. I have two pins in my jacket, and a long piece of stringin my pocket. Don't you think we could make hooks and lines, and catchsome to surprise Father when he comes back? There are lots of worms inthe bank.'

  The tea-things were hastily collected from the stream, and the amateuranglers set to work with much enthusiasm but no success, for the fishabsolutely declined to bite, in spite of the tempt
ing bait, and laysulkily under the stones at the bottom of the pool. It was growing quitedark before Father returned, and I think, though neither of them wouldhave confessed it, the children were both rather relieved to hear hischeery whistle outside the door, for it was just a little eerie sittingby the peat fire in that lonely cottage, without a sound to break thevast silence, and the knowledge that the nearest human habitation layfully three miles away; and Bobby had already asked Peggy if shebelieved in ghosts, and whether it was true what Joe had told him thatthe lights you sometimes see at night hovering over a bog are the soulsof children who have never been baptized; and though Peggy had professedto laugh at the supernatural, she did not feel quite so brave as shepretended, and found little cold shivers stealing down her back when thewind rose suddenly, and began to wail round the cottage like a hungrycreature waiting to be let in.

  'I don't know what you young folks are,' said Mr. Vaughan, 'but I'mdog-tired, and we had better go to bed, for I want to be up with the sunto-morrow.'

  The children were disposed to agree with him, so, simply pulling offtheir boots, they lay down in their clothes on the piles of fragrantheather, while Father threw thick bundles of it over them to serveinstead of blankets. Heather makes one of the most delicious beds in theworld. It is so soft, and yet so springy, and the purple blossom smellsso sweet, that one could scarcely wish to lie easier.

  Father and Bobby were asleep in two minutes, but Peggy lay awake for along time, watching the shadows of the peat fire flicker upon the roughbeams of the roof, till at length fire and heather merged into adreamland kingdom, where she was walking with Rollo upon the clouds, andfishing teacups out of a flowing sea below.