CHAPTER XIV--IN THE DEEP WOODS
It was not such a difficult matter, after all, to win permission fromMiss Sallie and the major to take the walk through the forest. The majorexplained to Miss Sallie that Stephen was a safe and careful guide whoknew the country by heart, and that if the girls were equal to the walkthere would be no danger in the excursion. The party, however, dwindledto five persons, Bab and Ruth, Stephen, Jimmie and Alfred. The latterappeared early, equipped for the walk, carrying a heavy cane, histrousers turned up over stout boots.
"Now, Stephen," said Miss Sallie, "I want you to promise me to take goodcare of the girls. You say the woods are not dangerous, although ahighwayman 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 seeAlfred 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 willserve to beat a trail through the underbrush."
"Come along, girls; let's be off," cried Stephen, who at heart wasalmost a Gypsy, and loved a long tramp through the woods. He hadstrapped over his shoulder a goodly sized box of lunch, and thecavalcade started cheerfully down the walk that led toward the forest, acompact mass of foliage lying to the left of them.
"Isn't this fun?" demanded Jimmie. "I feel just in the humor for alark."
"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 acreek."
"Or ride a horse bareback," interrupted Jimmie, who had heard the storyof Bab's escapade on the road to Newport.
"This is the end of uncle's land," said Stephen, at last. "We now findourselves entering the black forest. Here's the trail," he called as theothers helped the two girls over the dividing fence.
"All right, Scout Stephen," replied Jimmie. "We are following closebehind. 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 atthe temples; but as they marched deeper into the forest, the trees grewso thickly that their branches overhead formed a canopy like a roof.Squirrels and chipmunks scampered across their path and occasionally arabbit could be seen scurrying through the underbrush.
"Isn't this great!" exclaimed Stephen, after they had been walking forsome time. "Uncle says there's scarcely such another wood in this partof the country."
"Don't speak so loud, Stephen," said Jimmie. "It is so quiet here, Ifeel 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 toall boys, a sort of trilling in the head and throat that is melodious insound and carries further than an ordinary call. Immediately there wasan answer to the yodel. It might have seemed an echo, only there was noplace for an echo in this shut-in spot.
They all stopped and listened as the answer died away among the branchesof the trees.
"Curious," said Jimmie. "It was rather close, too. Perhaps one of yourwoodcutters is playing a trick on us, Stephen. Suppose we try again, andsee what happens!" Jimmie gave another yodel, louder and longer than thefirst. 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," criedStephen, exasperated, "and I don't think we had better leave the trailjust here for a fellow who is afraid to come out and show himself," headded in a lower tone.
There was no reply and they returned to the cartwheel road and began themarch again.
"You were quite right, Stephen," said Ruth, "why should we waste ourtime over an idler who plays tricks on people?"
There was another laugh, which seemed to come from high up in thebranches; then sounds like the chattering of squirrels, followed by lowwhistles and bird calls. They examined the branches of the trees aroundthem, but there was nothing in sight.
"Oh, go along!" exclaimed Alfred angrily. "Only cowards hide behindtrees. Brave men show themselves."
Silence greeted this sally, also, and they trudged on through the forestwithout any further effort to see the annoyer. Several times acornshells whizzed past their heads, and once Jimmie made a running jump,thinking he saw some one behind a tree, but returned crestfallen. Asurprise was in store for them, however. They had been walking for sometime when the trail, which hitherto had run straight through the middleof the wood, gave a sudden and unexpected turn, to avoid a depression inthe land, overgrown with vines and small trees, and now dry from thedrought.
They paused a moment on the curve of the path to look across at thegraceful little hollow which seemed to be the meeting place of slenderyoung pine trees and silver birches gleaming white among the dark greenbranches.
"How like people they look," Bab whispered. She never knew just why shedid so. "Like girls in white dresses at a party."
"And the pine trees are the men," whispered Jimmie. "Look," he saidexcitedly, under his breath, "there's a man! Perhaps it's the----"
He stopped short and his voice died away in amazement. Barbara said"Sh-h-h!" and the others paused in wonder. Just emerging from the hollowon the other side, was the figure of a man. All eyes saw him at the samemoment and two pairs of eyes at least recognized a green velveteenhunting suit. As the figure turned for one brief instant and scanned theforest they saw his face in a flash.
"It's Jose!" they gasped.
"Bab," exclaimed Ruth, "he is wearing the green velveteens!"
"I know it," replied her friend. "But are we sure it was Jose?"
"No; we aren't sure," answered Stephen. "It certainly looked like Jose,but we'll give him the benefit of the doubt, at any rate."
From beyond the hollow came another yodel.
"By Jove!" said Jimmie, "nothing but a tricky foreigner, after all, andI was just beginning to like him too."
"He's more than a trickster," Bab whispered. "He's wearing a greenvelveteen suit."
"Well, what of it?" asked Stephen.
"It's the same suit the highwayman wore who slashed the tires of theautomobile."
"Whew-w-w!" cried the boys.
"Be careful," whispered Ruth. "Don't let him hear us. Do you think hesaw us?"
"No," replied Alfred, "or he would never have yodeled."
Barbara began to consider. Should she tell about the knife, or shouldshe wait? She believed that if she told it would only complicate mattersand bring Zerlina, the Gypsy girl, into the muddle. Suppose she told,and then, when they reached home, they found that Jose had been awaythat morning? It would immediately call down upon him the suspicions ofthe whole party, suspicions perhaps undeserved. Bab had never had causeto regret her ability to keep a secret, and she concluded to test itagain by holding her peace a little longer.
"Jose or no Jose, let's go on and have our good time," exclaimedStephen. "Everything depends on whether Jose was at home or not thismorning. If he wasn't, why, then he'll have to give an account ofhimself. And if he was, we shall have to consult uncle about what to do.We will hunt the man out of these woods, anyway. He has no businesslurking around here."
Once more they started off, and were not troubled again by the yodler.
Presently the jangle of a bell was heard in the distance, a pleasantmusical tinkle in the midst of the green stillness of the forest.
"What on earth is _that_?" exclaimed Ruth, a little nervous now from thenearness of the robber.
"If I am
not mistaken," replied Stephen, "that is old Adam, thewoodcutter. He has been living in these woods all his life, seventyyears or more. He looks almost like a tree himself, he is so gnarled andweather-beaten and bent."
In a few moments the woodman's cart hove into sight, drawn by a bony oldhorse from whose collar jangled the little bell. The cart was loadedwith bundles of wood, and Adam walked at the side holding the rope linesin one hand and flourishing a whip in the other, the lash of which hecarefully kept away from his horse, which was ambling along at itspleasure.
"Good day, Adam," said Stephen. "How are you, and how is the woodbusiness?"
"Why, it's Mr. Stephen!" cried the old man, touching his cap with one ofhis knotted hands. "The wood business is good, sir. We manage to live,my wife and I. Although I'm wishin' t'was something else kept us going.I never fell a tree, sir, I don't feel I'm killin' something alive. Theyare fine old trees," he went on, patting the bark of a silver birchaffectionately. "I would not kill one of these white ladies, sir, if youwas to pay me a hundred dollars!"
"It's a shame, Adam," replied Stephen. "It must be like cutting downyour own family, you have lived among them for so many years. How is thehermit? Do you give him enough wood to keep him alive in the winter?"
"He's not been himself of late," answered Adam, lowering his voice."He's always strange at this time of the year."
"Do you think he'll see us if we go over?" asked Stephen.
"I think so, sir," replied Adam. "No matter how bad off he is, he'salways kind. I never see him angry."
"Well, good-bye, Adam, and good luck to you," said Stephen, dropping apiece of money into the wrinkled palm, and they continued their journeythrough the wood.
The little bell resumed its tinkle, and the cart was soon out of sight.