The Meadow Brook Girls Across Country Part 9

Harriet insisted on dressing the fish that night, something she knew better how to do than did any of her companions. The fish were then put in a pail, the cover tightly fitted and the pail hung in the old mill race, where the cold water would flow over the receptacle all night long.

"There," exclaimed Harriet after her work was finished. "We shall have a breakfast fit for a king. Now I'm going in bathing. I am so covered with dust and grime that I'm ashamed of myself. Come, girls, aren't you going in with me?"

"What! Go into that ice cold water?" demanded Margery. "No, thank you.

I'll heat some water and take my bath in the tent."

"I will go in with you, Harriet," offered Hazel.

"So will I," added the guardian. "Come, let's get ready before the air gets colder. Tommy already has had her bath."

Had they not been inured to cold water and exposure, the experiment might have been followed by severe colds if nothing worse. But the Meadow-Brook Girls were well seasoned from living out of doors for the greater part of the summer and from bathing in the cold stream at Camp Wau-Wau. The first plunge into the pond brought gasps and s.h.i.+vers, then they splashed about in the water, swimming across the pond and back, again and again, while Margery stood on the bank s.h.i.+vering out of pure sympathy for them.

"That is what I call great," cried Harriet, rising dripping to the bank after Miss Elting had called to the two girls to come out of the water.

"I could almost eat another meal after that bath."

"Tho could I," piped Tommy, thrusting her head out from the tent flap.

The two girls and the guardian ran laughing to the tent, where, greatly refreshed by their cold plunge, they changed their wet bathing suits for dry clothing.

Now fresh fuel was piled on the camp fire. The flames blazed high and the smoke curled skyward in the still, clear evening air. Harriet and Hazel were capering about the fire, holding an impromptu war dance.

Tommy was standing near one corner of the tent watching the performance, when, thinking she had heard a sound behind her, she turned apprehensively.

For one horrified moment Tommy Thompson gazed, then with a yell of terror sprang for the tent.

"Thave me! Oh, thave me!" she screamed.

"What is it?" cried Harriet and Miss Elting, rus.h.i.+ng toward her. Then they, too, halted, gazing into the deepening shadows that enveloped the rear of the tent. Margery had caught sight of the object that had sent Tommy into an agony of terror. Margery had thrown herself headlong into the tent screaming wildly. Hazel, Miss Elting and Harriet stood their ground.

CHAPTER VI-THE CALL OF THE DANCING BEAR

"A bear! A bear! Thave me!" came Tommy's wailing voice from the interior of the tent.

"Be quiet!" commanded Miss Elting.

"It's on a chain. There are two men with it," said Harriet somewhat unsteadily.

Miss Elting stepped forward to obtain a better view of the two men. She saw the swarthy faces of two Italians. One was leading the bear by a chain, the other carried a long pole. The animal was a huge, ambling, cinnamon bear. He wore a muzzle, and the sight of this gave the woman and the two girls a greater sense of security.

"What do you wish here?" demanded the guardian.

"We maka da bear dance," said the man, with the pole, touching his hat politely. "You giva mea twent-five cent I maka da bear dance."

"We do not wish to see the bear dance. You will please go away, or I shall call for a.s.sistance to drive you off," returned Miss Elting boldly.

"Oh, let the bear dance. It would be great fun," urged Hazel.

"Twent-five cent to maka da bear dance."

At this juncture Margery came timidly out of the tent. Tommy, white-faced, ready to run at the slightest sign of alarm, crept out after her.

"Will-will he bite?" stammered Margery.

"He will hurt his teeth on the muzzle if he does," answered Harriet Burrell laughingly.

The leader gave a sharp command. The bear rose on its hind feet and began pawing the air. It fixed its beady eyes on the face of Tommy Thompson. Tommy uttered a little cry and shrank back.

"He lika da littla girl," grinned the Italian.

"Never mind being personal. If you will keep your distance we will pay you a quarter to see the bear dance." Miss Elting drew a coin from her pocket, and stepping forward, without the least hesitation, handed it to the man with the pole. "Keep him over on that side of the fire. You two men remain over there also. Remember, we are quite well prepared to a.s.sert our rights if you do not do as you are told. Watch that neither of them gets into the tent, Harriet," she added in a whisper.

Harriet Burrell nodded understandingly. The bear, in response to frequent prods of the pole, ambled about, dancing awkwardly, now and then uttering a growl of resentment at the treatment he was receiving.

His master put the animal through its paces. At this juncture, Jane McCarthy, who, some time before, had driven off to a farm house in quest of milk for breakfast, drove in with a great rattle and honking. At first the Italians were for dragging their bear away. But, upon discovering that the newcomer was only another young woman, they grinned and went on with the performance.

"h.e.l.lo! what have we here?" cried Jane. "Where did you catch that beast?

Hey, you men! Didn't I pa.s.s you on the road this afternoon? Yes, I did.

I recognize your friend, the bear. Better look out for those fellows. I don't like the looks of them," declared Crazy Jane to Miss Elting in a low voice. "I'd a heap sooner trust the bear than the men, and I wouldn't care to turn my back on either for very long at one time." Then turning to the men she said: "Make your bear do his tricks over again. I haven't seen the show, you know."

"Twent-five cent," answered the man.

Jane looked at him for a few seconds, then, throwing back her head, laughed loudly.

"Twent-five cents, eh? I guess not! Does he dance, or does he not?" she demanded.

For answer the man with the pole gave the bear a vicious poke, the other led the animal to a small tree, to which he tied him.

"My gracious, are they going to camp here?" gasped Margery.

"Don't be afraid. We will send them on their way soon enough," answered Harriet in a low voice. "I wouldn't make them angry, Miss Elting."

"I don't intend to."

"Leave them to me. See here, men, what do you propose to do now?"

demanded Jane briskly.

"We lika somathing to eat."

"All right. You shall have somathing. Twent-five cent please," mimicked Crazy Jane, holding out a hand. She was so droll about it that the girls burst out laughing.

"Oh, you shouldn't have done that. See, you have made them angry,"

whispered Hazel.

"I don't care if I have. I'll be getting angry myself, pretty soon-maybe."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Twent-five Cent, Please," mimicked Jane.]