CHAPTER VIII.
GWEN.
Bill Tinsley was as keen on the camp building plan as Lewis Somervillehad said he would be.
"Sleeping on my arms," was his telegram in answer to the letter he gotfrom Lewis, a letter with R. S. V. P. P. D. Q. plainly marked on theenvelope.
"Good old Bill! I almost knew he would tumble at the chance. All of youwill like Bill, I know."
"What does he mean by sleeping on his arms?" asked Lucy. "I should thinkit would make him awfully stiff."
"Oh, that means ready to go at a moment's notice. I bet his kit ispacked now."
Mr. Lane and Dick had worked hard on the plans for the camp and had themready when the would-be builder called for them. Then Mr. Lane and Lewismade a flying trip to Greendale to look into the lay of the land and todecide on a site for the dining pavilion. It was a spot about onehundred yards from the log cabin, built by the aforesaid sickEnglishman, that seemed to them to be intended for just their purpose.It was a hollowed out place in the mountain side, not far from thesummit, and four great pine trees formed an almost perfect rectangle offorty by twenty-five feet. In the centre stood a noble tulip poplar.
"Pity to sacrifice him," said Bill Tinsley, whom they had picked up atCharlottesville on their way to Greendale. Bill was a youth of few wordsbut of frequent mirth expressed in uncontrollable fits of laughter thatnothing could stop, not even being shipped from West Point. It was thisvery laugh that had betrayed the hazers. If Bill had only been able tohold in that guffaw of his they would never have been caught. His laughwas unmistakable and through it the whole crowd of wrongdoers wasnabbed, poor Lewis along with them although he was innocent.
"No more to blame for laughing than a lightning bug for shining," hehad declared to Lewis; "but I wish I had died before I got you intothis, old fellow."
"Well, it can't be helped, but I bet you will be laughing on the otherside of your face before you know it."
The youths had remained fast friends and now that this chance had comefor them to be of service and to use the surplus energy that was storedup in their splendidly developed muscles, they were happy at theprospect of being together again.
Mr. Lane took careful measurements and adapted his plans so as toutilize the four trees as natural posts and the great tulip poplar as asupport for the roof. Under the pavilion the space was to be made intokitchen and store room. Some little excavating would be necessary forthis as measurements showed that one edge of the pavilion would restalmost on the mountain side while the other stood ten feet from theground.
"I am trying to spare you fellows all the excavating possible, as thatis the tedious and uninteresting part of building," explained Mr. Lane.
"Oh, we can shovel that little pile of dirt away in no time," declaredLewis, feeling his muscles twitch with joy at the prospect of removingmountains. Mr. Lane smiled, knowing full well that it was at least nomole hill they were to tackle.
Within a week after Mr. and Mrs. Carter had sailed on theirhealth-seeking voyage, Lewis and his chum were _en route_ for Greendale,all of the lumber for their undertaking ordered and their tools sent onahead by freight. Bill had gone to Richmond, ostensibly to consult adentist, but in reality to see the Carter girls, who had aroused in hima great curiosity.
"They must be some girls," had been his laconic remark.
"So they are, the very best fun you ever saw," Lewis had assured him."They took this thing of waking up and finding themselves poor a greatdeal better than you and I did waking up and finding ourselves nothingbut civilians when we had expected to be major generals, at least."
The Carter girls had one and all liked Bill, when Lewis took him to callon them the evening of his arrival in Richmond.
"There is something so frank and open in his countenance," said Helen.
"His mouth!" drawled Nan. "Did you ever see or hear such a laugh?"
"He is a great deal nicer than your old Dr. Wright, who looks as thoughit would take an operation on his risibles to get a laugh out of him."
Bill had offered the services of a battered Ford car he had inCharlottesville as pack mule for the camp and it was joyfully accepted.He and Lewis stopped in Charlottesville on their way to Greendale andgot the tried old car, making the last leg of their trip in it.
They had decided to sleep in the Englishman's cabin, as the little loghouse that went with the property was always called, but Miss Somervillehad made them promise to burn sulphur candles before they went in andwas deeply grieved because her beloved nephew refused to carry with hima quart bottle of crude carbolic acid that she felt was necessary toward off germs.
It was late in the afternoon as the faithful Ford chugged its way up themountain road to the site of the proposed camp. The boys had stopped atthe station at Greendale and taken in all the tools they could stowaway, determined to begin work at excavating the first thing in themorning.
"Let's lay out the ground this afternoon," proposed Lewis.
"There's nothing to lay out since the four pine trees mark the corners.I, for one, am going to lay out myself and rest and try to decide whichone of your cousins is the most beautiful."
"Douglas, of course! The others can't hold a candle to her, althoughHelen is some looker and Nan has certainly got something about her thatmakes a fellow kind of blink. And that Lucy is going to grow up to herlong legs some day and maybe step ahead of all of them."
"Well, I'm mighty glad you thought about giving me this job of workingfor such nice gals." These young men always spoke of themselves as beingin the employ of the Carter girls, and all the time they were buildingthe camp they religiously kept themselves to certain hours as though anylaxity would be cheating their bosses. Besides, the regular habits thattwo years at West Point had drilled into them would have been difficultto break.
"I don't know how to loaf," complained Lewis. "That's the dickens ofit."
"Me, neither!"
"They say the Government makes machines of its men."
"True! I am a perpetual motion machine."
They were busily engaged on their first morning in the mountains, plyingpick and shovel. They bent their brave young shoulders to the task withevident enjoyment in the work. When they did straighten up to get thekinks out of their backs, they looked out across a wonderful countrywhich they fully appreciated as being wonderful, but raving aboutlandscapes and Nature was not in their line and they would quickly bendagain to the task in a somewhat shamefaced way.
The orchards of Albemarle County in Virginia are noted and the green ofan apple tree in May is something no one need be ashamed to admireopenly, but all these boys would say on the subject was:
"Good apple year, I hope."
"Yep! Albemarle pippins are sho' good eats."
Moving mountains was not quite so easy as they had expected it to be.They remembered what Mr. Lane had said about excavating when the sunshowed it to be high noon and after five hours' steady work they hadmade but little impression on the pile they were to dig away.
"Gee, we make no impression at all!" said Lewis. "I verily believelittle Bobby Carter could have done as much as we have if he had beenturned loose to play mud pies here."
"Well, let's stop and eat. I haven't laughed for an hour," and Billgave out one of his guffaws that echoed from peak to peak and startedtwo rabbits out of the bushes and actually dislodged a great stone thatwent rolling down the side of the mountain into an abyss below. Atleast, his laugh seemed to be the cause but Bill declared it wassomebody or something, and to be sure a little mountain boy came frombehind a boulder, grinning from ear to ear.
"What be you uns a-doin'?"
"Crocheting a shawl for Aunty," said Lewis solemnly.
"Well, we uns is got a mule an' a scoop that could make a shawl ferAunty quicker'n you uns." This brought forth another mighty peal fromBill and another stone rolled down the mountain side.
"Good for you, son!" exclaimed Lewis. "Suppose you fetch the mule herethis afternoon and we'll have a sewing bee. What do y
ou say, Bill? Doyou believe we would ever in the world get this dirt moved?"
"Doubt it."
"Do you uns want we uns to drive the critter? We uns mostly goes along'thout no axtra chawge."
"Sure we want you. What do you charge for the mule and driver?"
"Wal, time was when Josephus brought as much as fifty cents a day, buthe ain't to say so spry as onct, an' now we uns will be satisfied to gitthirty cents, with a feedin' of oats."
"Oats! Who has oats? Not I. The only critter we have eats gasoline. Itell you, son, you feed Josephus yourself and we will feed you and payyou fifty cents a day for your animal. I don't believe a mule could workfor thirty cents and keep his self-respect."
"Wal, Josephus an' we uns don't want no money what we uns don' arn," andthe little mountain boy flushed a dark red under his sunburned, freckledface.
He was a very ragged youngster of about twelve. His clothes smacked ofthe soil to such an extent that you could never have told what was theiroriginal color. What sleeves there were left in his shirt certainlymust once have been blue, but the body of that garment showed spots ofcandy pink calico, the kind you are sure to find on the shelves of anycountry store. His trousers, held up by twine, crossed over his wiryshoulders, were corduroy. They had originally been the color of theearth and time and weather had but deepened their tone. His eyes shoneout very clear and blue in contrast to the general dinginess of hisattire. His was certainly a very likable face and the young men werevery much attracted to the boy, first because of his ready wit, shownfrom his first words, and then because of his quick resentment at thepossibility of any one's giving him or his mule money they had notearned.
"Of course, you are going to earn it," reassured Lewis. "Now you go homeand get your mule and as soon as we can cook some dinner for ourselvesand satisfy our inner cravings, we will all get to work. You andJosephus can dig and Bill and I will begin to build."
"Please, sir, wouldn't you uns like Gwen to cook for you uns and washthe platters an' sich? She is a great han' at fixin's."
"Gwen! Who is Gwen?"
Another stone slipped from behind the boulder from which the boy hademerged and then a young girl came timidly forth.
"I am Gwen," she said simply.
She was a girl of about fourteen, very slim and straight, with wide greyeyes that looked very frankly into those of the young men, although youfelt a timidity in spite of her directness. Her scant blue dress wasclean and whole and her brown hair was parted and braided in two longplaits, showing much care and brushing.
"Oh, how do you do, Miss Gwen? I am Lewis Somerville and this is myfriend and fellow laborer, Mr. William Tinsley."
The girl made a little old-fashioned courtesy with a quaint grace thatcharmed the laborers.
"Do you want me to cook and clean for you?"
"Of course we do! What can you cook?"
"I have learned to cook some very good dishes at the Mountain MissionSchool. Maybe you would not like them, though."
"Of course we would like them! When can you start?"
"When you wish!"
"Well, I wish now," put in Bill. "I never tasted meaner coffee than youmade last night except what I made myself this morning, and as for yourmethod of broiling bacon--rotten--rotten!"
The girl followed Lewis to the Englishman's cabin and after being shownthe provisions, she said she thought she could manage to get dinnerwithout his assistance. He showed her how to light the hard alcoholstove which was part of their outfit and then gave her carte blanchewith the canned goods and groceries.
Gwen shook her head in disapproval at sight of the pile of dirty dishesleft from breakfast. It would take more than West Point training to makemen wash dishes as soon as a meal is over. Lewis and Bill had a methodof their own and never washed a plate until both sides had been eatenfrom, and not then until they were needed immediately. Supper had beeneaten from the top side; breakfast, from the bottom. There were stillsome clean plates in the hamper, so why wash those yet?
In an incredibly short time Gwen called the young men to dinner. Theylay stretched at their ease on a grassy slope near the cabin, quitepleased with themselves and their luck in having found a mule to movethe dirt and a girl to cook their food all in one morning.
"What do you make of her?" asked Lewis. "She doesn't talk or walk like amountain girl."
"Mission School!" commented Bill, looking at the slim, erect back of thegirl as she went up the hill to the spring. She had refused their offerof help and said she wanted to get the water herself.
"I don't believe Mission School would have her walking that way. Don'tyou fancy the boy goes to school, too? Look how he slouches."
Just then the boy, whose name was Josh, appeared, leading Josephus.Surely there never was such a specimen of horse flesh as that mule.Maud in the comic supplement was beautiful compared to him. His legs hadgreat lumps on them and he was forced to walk with his feet quite farapart to keep from interfering. He was sway backed and spavined andblind in one eye, but there was a kindly expression in his remaining eyethat reassured one. One fore leg was shorter than the other, which gavehim a leaning, tumbling look that seemed to threaten to upset hisequilibrium at every step.
"Well, God bless my soul!" exclaimed Lewis. "Is that Josephus?"
"Yes, sir! He ain't so measly as he looks. He kin do a sight of scrapin'an' dumpin'," and the boy reached an affectionate arm up around the oldanimal's neck. Josephus responded by snorting in his master's ear. "Weuns done brought the implee-ment to make Aunty's shawl," pointing to arusty old road shovel that Josephus had hitched to him.
"Good! as soon as Miss Gwen feeds us, we will see what he can do in theway of fancy work."
Gwen was a born cook and the domestic science that had been so ablytaught in the Mission School had developed her talent wonderfully. Shehad turned up two empty boxes and smoothed some wrapping paper overthem. A bunch of mountain laurel glorified an old soup can and made abeautiful centre piece. The coffee was hot and clear and strong; thehoecake brown and crisp on the outside and soft and creamy within, justas a hoecake should be; the bacon vied with the hoecake in crispness,with no pieces limp and none burned. She had opened a can of baked beansand another of spaghetti, carefully following the directions on the cansas how to serve the contents.
"Well, don't this beat all?" said Bill as he sank down by the improvisedtable.
"But you must come and eat with us, you and Josh," insisted Lewis.
"Oh, no, the table isn't big enough, and, besides, I must go on bakinghoecakes."
"Well, Josh, you come, anyhow."
"No, sir, thanky! We uns will wait for Gwen. We uns ain't fitten to sitdown with the likes of you uns, all dirty with we uns' meat a-stickin'through the rags."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Lewis, "if you are fit to sit with Miss Gwen, youare fit to sit with us. We don't mind your meat sticking through, and asfor being dirty--why don't you wash?"
Gwen gave a laugh of delight. "There now, Josh, what do I tell you allthe time? Rags don't make a bit of difference if you are just clean."
"Wal, we uns'll eat with Josephus if we uns has to wash. This ain't notime of the week for washin'." But while the young men were enjoying thevery appetizing food, Josh did sneak off to the stream and came backwith his face and hands several shades fairer.
That afternoon was a busy one for all on that mountain side. Gwen gavethe cabin a thorough cleaning, washed all the dishes and put papers onthe shelves that were already in the cabin, unpacked the provisions andplaced them with the dishes neatly on the shelves and in the oldcupboard that still stood in the corner, left there by the Englishman.She went back to her home for yeast and made up a sponge, planning tohave hot rolls for breakfast.
Josephus showed the mettle of his pasture by scraping and dumping aboutthree times as much dirt in an hour as the two West Pointers had beenable to move in a whole morning's work. Josh did very spirited driving,pretending all the time that his steed had to be handled very carefullyor he would ru
n away, road-shovel and all.
"How did your mule happen to have one leg shorter than the other?"teased Lewis.
"Wal, that's a mounting leg. He got that walkin' round the mounting. Allcritters in the mountings is built that a way. Ain't you an' Mr. Billthere a-planning that there buildin' after we unses' mule, with shortlegs up the hill an' long legs down?"
Bill almost fell out of the poplar tree where he had climbed to saw offlimbs for twenty feet or more. He laughed so loud and long at the wayJosh had gotten ahead of his friend in repartee that Gwen came out ofthe cabin to see what was the matter. Bill's laugh was a verydisconcerting thing until you got used to him.
That first day showed much accomplished. The excavating was half done;the post holes were dug and logs cut and trimmed and planted ready forthe beams. A load of lumber arrived before sundown and that meant nodelay in the to-morrow's work.
Six o'clock found them very tired and hungry but Gwen had supper allready for them, a great dish of scrambled eggs and flannel cakes. Shehad brought from home a pitcher of milk that stayed delightfully cool inthe mountain spring.
"There'll be buttermilk to-morrow," she said, blushing with pleasure atthe praise the young men bestowed on her culinary efforts.
"Splendid and more splendid!" exclaimed Lewis. "And will you and yourbrother just come every day and take care of us?"
"You mean Josh? He is not my brother."
"Oh, cousin, then?"
"No, he is no relation to me. I live with his mother, though, AuntMandy. I have lived with her for five years. I am very fond of Josh, butif he were my brother, I'd simply make him take baths."
"Can't you anyhow as it is?"
"No," sadly. "He thinks it is foolishness. Teacher has told him time andtime again and even sent him home, five miles across the mountains, buthe won't wash for her or for me. Aunt Mandy thinks it is foolishness,too, but she makes him bathe oftener than he used to in summer."
"Boys will be boys and it is hard to make them anything else. I rememberthe time well when bathing was something that I thought grown-upswished on me just for spite, and now a cold shower every morning is asnecessary to my happiness as dirt used to be when I was a kid. Bill andI are going to pipe from the spring up there and concoct a showersomehow under the pavilion."
"That will be glorious. Father always meant to use that spring and get ashower at the cabin."
"Your father!"
"Yes, my father was the man who built the Englishman's cabin. He diedfive years ago."
"Gee whilikins! Now I understand!"