The Castaways of Pete's Patch
Page 29
CHAPTER XXVI
In Fairyland
MR. BLACK, hearing nothing from Billy's people and knowing thatSaunders was an able guard for his precious family, remained awayfor three days; for he found a number of matters in Lakeville thatclaimed his attention. He paid his fine cheerfully, and declared everafterwards that the day's sport was worth all that it had cost him.
Mr. Saunders proved a most delightful companion, in spite of his misfitclothing; for the tall, slender young man had borrowed stout Mr.Black's camping costume. Wherever he went he was followed by devotedBilly and the no less devoted girls. Dave liked him, too. Even RosaMarie waddled at his heels and grunted happily when he condescendedto pat her black head or her fat brown hands. It may have been hisundeniably red hair that charmed Rosa Marie, but it was his voice thatpleased the girls; for he proved a decidedly eloquent person. He toldthem the most wonderful of fairy tales, recited miles and miles ofnonsense rhymes and several yards, as Bettie said, of real poetry.
But the fairy tales pleased them most because there were so many spotsnear Pete's Patch that seemed just like little bits of Fairyland;and sometimes Saunders' tales were cleverly fitted to these suitablesurroundings. Before the three days were over, the girls were living ina veritable land of enchantment and went about with such dreamy eyesthat Mrs. Crane was certain that they were all bewitched.
On the last forenoon of the useful young man's visit, Mabel, pursuinga startled brown rabbit, happened to stumble into the very heart ofFairyland. The rabbit led her out of Pete's Patch, through thicket andmarsh, to an unsuspected bayou--a little bay that had once been part ofthe lively river but was now merely a quiet pond. Mabel found herselfon the very muddy edge of a wide circular basin that was bigger than itlooked. The banks were a tangled, seemingly impenetrable mass of greenfoliage, showing occasionally the vivid pink of a late wild rose or thedazzling white of Queen Anne's lace and meadow-sweet. More invitingthan all were quantities of strange water flowers of shining white thatspangled the glinting surface of the pond. These were new to Mabel andall hers for the gathering.
"Oh!" gasped the little girl, quite overcome with the surprising beautyof this hitherto undiscovered treasure, "I guess I've found the Witch'sPool where the pale Princess was turned into a--Oh! I _must_ get thoseflowers for Mrs. Crane; she'd _love_ 'em."
A long, partly submerged log extended toward the center of the pond.Mabel very cautiously at first, then with more confidence, trusted herweight to this. If she could reach just one of those elusive flowers----
Suddenly there was a horrible "giving way" under her feet. She clutchedwildly at unsubstantial air; there was a wild shriek followed by aviolent splash. Millions of golden bubbles floated to the surface.
For a long moment that was all that the brown rabbit, safe among theferns, could see. Then, a dozen feet away from the broken log, a queergreen object, a most unpleasant-looking object, caught at the slimybranches of a water-logged, barkless tree that had stood in the poolfor goodness only knows how many years; and, freeing one wet hand,wiped a veil of emerald slime from its mouth and eyes. The green objectwas Mabel; and tumbling right into Fairyland was not an entirelypleasant process.
Fortunately, a few short stumps of branches still remained firmlyattached to the upright trunk. The plump "Princess" was able, happily,to find a firm foothold on one of these. Then, with her knees underwater, her arms clasped about the slippery tree trunk, she stood moreor less securely anchored in the treacherous pool, looking not unlikea green marble statue in the center of a fountain. Fortunately thewater was not at all cold. Fortunately, too, it harbored none of thehorrible things that Mabel imagined might be lurking beneath itsverdant surface. It was because of her fear of possible--or ratherimpossible--alligators, snakes, and hippopotami that the little girl'svoice proved unusually feeble when she attempted to shout for the helpthat she so sorely needed. At any rate, no one responded.
Although the wonderfully tinted bayou was a lovely spot to look at,with its green and golden browns in the sunlight, its deep sepia tonesin the shadows, and its marvelous reflections of objects along theedge, poor Mabel found it hard to be compelled to gaze at it for solong a time. After the first half-hour, even with blue king-fishersand many-hued dragon-flies darting down after water bugs, or lightlyskimming the jeweled surface, it seemed a lonely place. As for thefrostlike blossoms that had lured her into the pool Mabel no longeradmired them; and she hated the brown rabbit.
When noon arrived without bringing always hungry Mabel back to Pete'sPatch--never before had she missed a meal--the other campers began togrow alarmed. By two o'clock the entire camp was scouring forest,lakeshore, and river banks for Mabel or traces of Mabel. Mr. Saundershad even loaded Mr. Black's gun and was firing it, at intervals, thusproviding Mabel with a new cause for alarm, since she didn't know thatthe gun was pointed toward the open lake. Laddie was searching therocks at Barclay's Point, Jean and Henrietta were examining the roadsthat Mabel sometimes explored for mushrooms, Dave and Marjory werefollowing all the more or less familiar trails.
"She's fallen in, somewhere," declared Mrs. Crane, pale with anxiety,"and is drowned. Nothing else would have kept her away from lunch."
"And she can't get near water _without_ falling in," agreed Bettie."But, so far, she's always gotten out again."
Sometimes the hateful brown rabbit, safe on dry land, bobbed up to lookat Mabel. Sometimes a saucy squirrel ran along an overhanging branch toscold loudly at the little girl. Once a big mud-hen waded into sight,then, suddenly discovering the discouraged "Princess," fled with analarmed--and alarming squawk.
"I suppose," groaned Mabel, "I'm missing a million things. Most likelyMr. Black is back with splendid news for Billy--I'm sure he'll turn outto be somebody perfectly grand, like a young duke or the only son of amayor. Or Mr. Saunders is telling that loveliest-of-all fairy tale thathe promised to save for the very last. And I _know_ they'll eat everycrumb of those splendid huckleberry pies that Mrs. Crane was makingwhen I left camp. And, oh! What'll I do when it gets dark?"
But Mabel, happily, was spared this last horror. At three o'clockMahjigeezigoqua, Rosa Marie's really beautiful mother, parted thebranches that fringed the pool and peered at the strange object uprightin the water.
"Oh!" cried weary Mabel, in sudden excitement, "do come and get me--arope, a boat, anything----"
"Can you hol' on som' more?" demanded the young woman, testing theground with a cautious foot.
"Yes, yes," cried Mabel, almost letting go in her joy. "Only pleasesave me soon--I'm awfully tired of this place--I've been here for_years_."
"Ah'll breeng ma brodder," promised the dusky beauty, slippingnoiselessly away.
It seemed another year before Dave finally came, bounding like a deerthrough the thicket, with his sister at his heels. Dave plunged in--hehad learned by this time exactly how to rescue Mabel from all sorts ofwatery graves--and soon that relieved young person was safe on somevery black, oozy mud that, ordinarily, wouldn't have seemed so pleasantunderfoot.
There was great rejoicing when this frequently cast away castaway,still well besmeared with green slime, was escorted by Dave and hispretty sister to Pete's Patch.
"Geeve her som' bat' hon de lake," advised Dave, before disappearing insearch of certain herbs for which he had found a use.
Mrs. Crane, feeling that Mabel had been sufficiently punished forher thoughtlessness without being scolded, hastily prepared a hotmeal--after all, she _had_ saved Mabel's share of the pie. Then, whileMrs. Crane was setting a place for her, the culprit, escorted to thelake by Jean and Henrietta, was thoroughly scrubbed, rubbed dry, andhustled into clean clothing.
"Hurry!" cried Mrs. Crane, "or the stew will get cold again."
Just as Mabel was opening her mouth for the first delicious bite, abrown, sinewy hand deftly placed a dingy tin cup at her lips, her headwas unexpectedly twitched backward, and before Mabel could realize whatwas happening, Dave had poured a generous dose of his evil-smellingherb tea down her u
nresisting throat.
"Ah'm learn dose good trick off ma gran'modder," explained Dave,evidently much elated at his success. "Ma gran'modder ver' smart ol'squaw."
"I wish," choked Mabel, crimson with indignation, "your horrid oldgrandmother 'd never been _born_."
"Som' tam'," smiled Dave, sympathetically, "Ah'm used for weesh dat,too. But dose medicine ees ver' good--mak' you feel all bully hon topyour inside, bam-bye. Maybe you lak' som' more, hey?"
"You go home!" snapped Mabel. "I'll taste that stuff for a _year_."
Dave chuckled as he slipped away. And, however dreadful it looked andsmelled and tasted, the medicine at any rate did no harm; for Mabelawoke next morning none the worse for either the prolonged soaking,Dave's unpalatable remedy, or even an unusually large portion of Mrs.Crane's famous pie.