CHAPTER IX
DANGER AHEAD
Coming toward the girls through the trees, crouched low, sinister eyesfixed upon them, were two great timber wolves. The girls, terrified asthey were, saw at a glance that it would be of no use to run, themovement would only infuriate the beasts and precipitate their attack.
"The trees!" gasped Betty, feeling herself in the grip of the deadlyinertia that one experiences sometimes in a nightmare. "Make for thetrees, girls; they are our only chance."
Luckily, the branches of the trees swung low to the ground, or the girlscould never have saved themselves. As it was, they had barely time toswing themselves free of the ground when the great beasts darted intothe open, fangs bared, snarling hideously. Then----
Bang! Bang! Two sharp reports from the direction of the woodland and oneof the wolves sprang clear of the ground, then slunk into theunderbrush, while the other staggered, fell, struggled to its feet,fell again, and after one convulsive movement, lay still.
While the girls stared, unable to follow this swift turn of events,there was the sound of running feet coming in their direction and thenext moment two figures broke through into the cleared space.
One was a little wizened man who seemed, for all his apparent age,extremely agile. The other was a girl, a splendid, big creature, whostood as tall as the man, and who, like him, carried a rifle.
The two ran to the fallen animal, talking excitedly, and turned it overto be sure it was dead. They were so absorbed that they did not noticethe girls, who dropped down quietly from their perches in the trees. Thesight of the guns carried by the newcomers had had a tremendouslyreassuring effect upon them. The wonderful sensation of relief thatswept over them as they realized their almost miraculous escape, was sokeen as to be almost pain.
Still, they were not quite free from fear as they approached theprostrate body of the big beast, over which their rescuers were stillbending. It was the girl who first discovered them.
"Hello!" she cried, straightening up and turning upon the girls a frankregard. "You was the ones this old boy was after, eh? Look, Dad," sheadded, pointing to where the four horses were still bucking and snortingin fright. "There's the hosses we heard, but I reckon 'twas these galsthe wolves was after."
"I guess you're right," said Betty, trying to smile through a shiver."It wasn't very much fun while it lasted, either."
At this the old man, who had very kindly, keen blue eyes in his seamedand wrinkled face, turned and spat upon the ground meditatively.
"You don't mean to tell me," he said, looking from one to the other ofthe girls, "that you purty young girls was out hyar all alone, withouteven a gun to protect yourselves with?"
"I guess we were." It was Mollie who spoke this time, and her tone wasrueful. "We aren't used to this part of the world, you see, and so wedidn't know what a risky thing we were doing."
"They are most as bad as the Hermit of Gold Run, aren't they, Dad?"asked the big girl, her eyes twinkling. "He goes about everywherethrough the woods without a gun and only his violin for company; and,somehow or other, the beasts never molest him. Some says he charms 'emwith his violin, but I think it's just luck," she added, with a wiseshake of her head.
The girls, whose curiosity had revived as their fears subsided, listenedwith interest to this rather long speech of the mountain girl.
"Has this--er--hermit, as you call him----" Betty interrogated eagerly,"has he long curly hair and is he tall----"
"With stooped shoulders?" finished Amy.
The mountain girl looked amazed.
"Why yes. Do you know him?" she asked, adding, as though to explain hersurprise: "He doesn't like to see people, you know, and folks round heredon't know much about him 'cept that he plays the violin. That's whythey calls him the hermit, 'cause he lives alone an' hates everybody."
"All except Meggy, here," interposed the old man, a look of pride in hiseyes as he gazed at his daughter. "He likes her fust rate. She says it's'cause she takes him grub an' good things to eat. But I know better."
"Pshaw, Dad," cried the girl, flushing with embarrassment. "It's jestone of your idees that people like me better'n most when they don't atall." As though to change the subject, she touched the stiff animal ather feet with the toe of her stout boot.
"What you aim to do with this one, Dad?" she asked. "It was your bulletgot him. Mine went wild, an' I jest injured the other feller."
"Waal," said the old man, his gaze fixed speculatively on the big beast,"he's not wuth the trouble o' skinning an' his meat ain't much good, soI reckon we'd better leave him, daughter. Time I was gettin' back to themine."
He turned to go, but Betty was before him, hand outstretchedimpulsively.
"Oh, but you must let us thank you," she cried. "If you and yourdaughter hadn't happened along just then I don't know what we shouldhave done."
"Oh, thet's all right, thet's all right," said the old miner, tooembarrassed to meet her eye. "Glad we could be some use to you, ma'am.But ef you'll take an old man's advice," he added, as he and hisdaughter started through the woods in the direction of Gold Run, "youwon't go roaming around in these parts without a gun onto you. 'Tain'tsafe, noways."
"We won't," they promised.
Once their protectors were gone they were wild with impatience to getout of this place of dangers. Their fingers trembled as they untied thehorses, and it was as much as they could do to get the animals to standstill long enough to mount them.
However, once in the saddle, they galloped along that narrow trail atfull speed, regardless of rocks and old stumps of trees and treacherousholes, their one thought to reach the open road--and safety.
When at last the plain stretched before them, level and red hot in theblazing afternoon sun, they all uttered a silent prayer of thankfulness.
"You were right, Amy," said Betty suddenly, as Amy came up abreast ofher, "when you said the mountains could be cruel too."
"We'll not ever dare tell the folks," said Grace, shuddering at thememory of their close escape. "They would never let us out of theirsight again."
"It was mighty lucky for us that Meggy and her father happened alongjust as they did," said Mollie. "I know I couldn't have held on verylong where I was, and once on the ground I'd have made a lovely tendermorsel for the little wolves."
"You flatter yourself," retorted Grace, and Amy shivered.
"I don't know how you girls can joke about such a thing," she said. "Iwas about frightened to death."
"I suppose you think the rest of us enjoyed it," said Mollie, and atthis point Betty thought it was about time to interfere.
"Wasn't it odd--Meggy's speaking of our friend the musician and callinghim the Hermit of Gold Run?" she said. "I'm glad the poor lonely fellowhas a nice girl like Meggy to befriend him."
"Huh, he didn't seem to want befriending very much when we saw him,"said Mollie. "We couldn't have been frozen more completely if we haddropped on an iceberg."
"Oh, well, he has 'ze temperament,'" said Grace, with an elaborategesture.
"Seems kind of strange, his living up there all alone," said Amythoughtfully. "You would think any one who could play the way he canwould hate to bury himself in the wilderness. Unless----" she paused,and Mollie jumped joyfully into the opening.
"Unless there is some reason why he has to," said the latter, addingwith an I-told-you-so air, "I thought there was some mystery about thatman, and now you are beginning to think so yourselves. You just keepyour eyes open and watch for a surprise!"