The Wolf Patrol Part 31

As the scouts came in sight of the child a strange thing happened. The little girl straightened herself and held the rail firmly by both hands. Then, her eyes still fixed on the racing water, she began to swing slowly from side to side. She gave a start and tried to run across the narrow bridge, but fell upon her hands and knees. Here she began to swing again from side to side, rocking farther over at every swing. The foaming, swift-running race had fascinated her, had dizzied and bewildered her, and was swiftly drawing her to itself. She was now below the single handrail, and there was nothing to prevent her toppling into the darting mill-race.

'She'll be in!' shouted d.i.c.k, and the two scouts rushed at full speed to a wicket-gate where a path ran from the little bridge to the road.

Chippy was through first, and flew like a greyhound for the bridge.

d.i.c.k was a little behind. The Raven sprang on to the bridge and made a s.n.a.t.c.h at the little girl's frock. His hand was darting out when she rolled over and fell, and he missed his grip by inches. The child's body was at once whirled away down the race.

Chippy flung off his haversack, and was about to leap when d.i.c.k yelled: 'No, no, Chippy! It's mere madness to jump into the race. This way!

this way!'

The Wolf tore along the margin of the race, casting off haversack, jacket, and hat as he ran. At the foot of the torrent the little girl had been whirled out into the pool, and was just sinking as d.i.c.k flew up. With all the impetus of his run he shot out from the bank and clove the water with a long swift dive. His eyes were open, and he saw a dark ma.s.s slowly sinking in front of him. He made a swift stroke, and had a good handful of clothes in his right hand. With his left arm and his feet he struck out for the surface, and was up in an instant.

The tail of the race set up a strong current which swept insh.o.r.e, and this current caught rescuer and rescued and brought them up at a point where d.i.c.k was in reach of Chippy's patrol staff. Chippy, who had seen his comrade's idea, had followed, and was now ready to lend a hand.

'Here, d.i.c.k!' he shouted, and stretched out his strong stick. d.i.c.k seized it, and Chippy drew both insh.o.r.e.

'Take her first,' gasped d.i.c.k. 'There's no bottom; the bank goes straight down.'

He seized a tuft of rushes springing at the edge of the water and supported himself, while Chippy lifted the little girl out of the water, and laid her on the bank. In a second d.i.c.k was beside him.

Relieved of the weight of the child, d.i.c.k swung himself up and scrambled out nimbly.

As he shook himself, an elderly man in white dusty clothes ran across the bridge and down the bank towards them. It was the miller. The shouts of the boys had called him to the mill-door, and he had seen the plucky rescue. He ran up trembling and white-faced, too shaken for the moment to speak. The little girl was his grand-daughter, the child of his only son.

Chippy looked up sharply as he came.

'Wheer's the nearest place wi' a fire an' a woman in it?' cried the Raven.

The miller pointed to his house, a little behind the mill, and shaded by a grove of chestnut-trees.

'Ah! I didn't see it at fust,' said Chippy, and he caught up the little girl in his wiry arms, and hurried for the bridge. He crossed it with speedy foot, and d.i.c.k and the miller followed. The door of the house was open, and Chippy marched straight in and laid his burden on the hearth in front of a blazing wood-fire. The miller's wife came downstairs at that moment, and uttered a cry of alarm.

'What's come to Gracie?' she said.

'Your little gell, eh?' said the Raven. 'She tumbled into the race, an' my mate fetched her out. She's more frightened nor hurt, I shouldn't wonder. She worn't in above a minnit.'

He left the child to her grandmother's care, and went out to meet d.i.c.k and the miller. The old man was thanking d.i.c.k with a voice which still quavered, for he had received a great shook.

'Don't worry,' said Chippy cheerfully; 'she'll soon be all right. Th'

old lady's lookin' arter her. Now, d.i.c.k, wheer are ye goin' to dry yerself?'

'Come into the mill,' cried the old man. 'There's a good fire in the drying-kiln.'

'That'll do,' said the Raven, 'an' if ye'll kindly oblige wi' a blanket or suthin' to wrap him in while his things are a-dryin', that'll be all right.'

'Ay, sure, anythin' I've got ye're more than welcome to,' said the miller. 'I'll niver forget what ye've a-done this day. How I could ha' faced my son if aught had happened I don't know, an' that's truth.'

He took the scouts into the mill, and then hurried away to the house.

d.i.c.k stripped off his dripping clothes, and the comrades wrung out all the wet they could before they hung them over the kiln.

'I can manage as soon as my shorts are dry,' said d.i.c.k. 'I chucked away the coat and haversack with the spare things in them, and they're dry now.'

The miller came in with a big blanket, and d.i.c.k wrapped himself in it, while Chippy ran off to collect the traps they had flung aside at the moment of the rescue. When he came back he began to laugh at sight of d.i.c.k.

'Now, Wolf,' he said, 'if yer 'ad a few feathers to stick in yer hair, ye'd look just like some big Injun sittin' outside his tent.'

'Outside his wigwam,' grinned d.i.c.k. 'Well, it's jolly comfortable inside a blanket, anyhow. You're pretty wet, Chippy.'

'Yus; the water run on to me a bit off the little gell,' said Chippy.

'I'll stand up to the kiln, and soon get dry.'

The miller had gone away again, and this time he returned with a jug of steaming tea, two cups and saucers, and a plate heaped high with food.

A drap o' meat an' hot drink will do ye good,' he said, an' ye can peck away while the clo'es do dry.'

Chippy chuckled. 'How's yer tender conscience?' he murmured to the Wolf. 'Fair enough for us to tek' this, ain't it?'

'Fair enough?' cried the astonished miller, who had caught the remark.

'Well, what a man ye must think me! I'd give a bite an' a sup to anybody; an' after what ye've done, I'd pull the house down to please ye.'

'It's aw' right,' cried the Raven hastily. 'I don't mean wot you mean.

It was only a bit of a joke wi' my pardner.'

'Oh, ay, a joke--well,' said the miller; 'but ye're welcome, an' more than welcome.'

'How's the little girl coming on?' cried d.i.c.k, in order to turn the subject.

'Bravely, bravely,' cried the old man. 'She'd swallowed a tidy drap o'

water, an' felt pretty queer. But she's comin' round now. How did ye come to see her?'

d.i.c.k related the story of the child's fall, and the old man declared he'd put more rails to the bridge.

''Twor' the runnin' water carried her beyond herself,' he said. 'Ay, sure, that wor' it.'

Before the boys finished their meal the threatened storm broke. There was a tremendous downpour of rain, thundering on the roof and las.h.i.+ng the windows.

'I'd just as lieve be agen this kiln-fire as out in that,' remarked the Raven. 'Seems to me we'll put up here to-night.'

'I dare say he'll let us turn in on his hay, or something like that,'

said d.i.c.k. 'We'll ask him when he comes back.' For the miller had gone again to the house in his anxiety to see how his grandchild was getting on.

Chippy turned the shorts, which had been put in the best drying-place, and felt them.

'They'll be dry in no time now,' he said, and returned to the jug for the final cup of tea which it contained.

'At the rate we're going on,' laughed d.i.c.k, 'we could stop out a month on our ten s.h.i.+llings, Chippy.'

'It 'ud suit me proper,' said the Raven, cutting his bread against his thumb with his jack-knife. The miller had brought them knives from the house, but the scouts preferred to use their own.

The old man was gone a long while, and when he returned d.i.c.k had got into his shorts and dry things, and was himself again.

'Ah!' said the miller, 'now p'raps ye'll step across to the house. My missis do want to see ye an' thank ye.'