The Carter Girls' Week-End Camp - BestLightNovel.com
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The spring was found down low between the rocks--such a clear, clean spring that even the greatest germ fearer would not hesitate to drink of its waters.
"Look, there's a little path leading from the other side! It must go somewhere!" cried Frank.
"Yes, it must go somewhere just as all the trails we have followed today must--but where? Don't tell me about paths! They are frauds, delusions and snares. I reckon there won't be any supper for us tonight, so I might just as well fill up on water," and Skeeter stooped and drank until his chum became alarmed. Skeeter's capacity was surely miraculous.
"Let's not tell the girls we might not be able to get back before night.
It might get them upset," cautioned Frank.
They reckoned without their host, however, in this matter. When the boys returned to the forlorn damsels bearing a can of water for their refreshment, the can having been discovered by the spring, they found them not forlorn at all. They had s.p.u.n.ked up each other and now were almost lively. Lil was tired and pale and Lucy had a rather bedraggled look, but they called out cheerily:
"What ho, brave knights!"
"Listen! Don't you hear a strange sound, kind of like music without a tune?" said Lucy.
There was a sound, certainly. It might be the wind in the pines and it might be a giant fly buzzing in a flower that had closed its doors for the night.
"It is coming closer," cried Lil. "Maybe it is the bold brigands who are to bear us off to captivity in their mountain fastnesses. I tell you, if they want me they will have to bear me. I can't hobble."
Just then there came through the scrub growth on the opposite side of the green dimple where our young people had made their temporary abiding place, a strange figure. It was a tall, lean young man dressed in a coat of many colors, a s.h.i.+rt that seemed to be made of patches, no two patches of the same color and none of them matching the original color of the s.h.i.+rt, which was of a vivid blue. His trousers were of bright pink calico, the kind you see on the shelves of country stores and that is usually spoken of as "candy pink." His head was bare; his hair long and yellow. A large tin bucket was hung on his arm while he diligently played a jew's-harp.
The effect of this strange figure was so weird as it appeared through the gathering twilight that the girls could hardly hold in the screams that were in their throats. They controlled them, however, so that they only came out as faint giggles.
The music of the jew's-harp can be very eyrie in broad daylight when made by an ordinary human being; but just at dusk in a mountain fastness when four young persons have decided they are lost and may have to spend the night in the woods, this music, coming from such a strange, motley figure, seemed positively grewsome.
"Speak to it!" gasped Lucy.
"'Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!
Be thou a spirit of health, or goblin d.a.m.ned, Bring with thee airs from heaven, or blasts from h.e.l.l, Be thy intents wicked, or charitable, Thou com'st in such a questionable shape, That I will speak to thee,'"
spouted Skeeter.
The youth stood still in his path but went on with his weird near-tune.
Skeeter approached him and the others followed, although poor Lil found herself limping painfully.
"Please, we are lost!"
"Oh, no, not lost, for I have found you uns. We uns is always findin'."
His voice had an indescribable softness and gentleness and his blue eyes a far-away look as though he lived in some other world. "Only t'other day we uns 'most found a great bird floating in the sky, but it flew away. We uns thought at first it was lost but it wasn't. If it had a been lost, we uns would have found it. A great big bird, bigger'n a bald-headed eagle, bigger'n a buzzard."
"Now that you have found us, what are you going to do with us?" asked Lil.
"Oh, what we uns finds, we uns hides ag'in. Thar's a hole in the mounting whar we uns puts things."
"Uhhh--a brigand, sure enough!" whispered Lucy.
"But you wouldn't put us there, because we are alive. You have a home somewhere near here, haven't you?" asked Frank. But the half-witted fellow shook his head sadly.
"We uns ain't got no mo' home since they came and found my maw--they came and found her and hid her in the ground. We uns must have lost her and never can find her--but there are lots of other things to find," and his blue eyes that had looked all clouded at the sad thought of never finding his mother, now began to sparkle. "Only this evening we uns found the prettiest light in the sky--it's gone now--gone--before we uns could hide it in the hole, but we uns will find another."
"Where do you live?"
Skeeter asked it gently.
"Oh, we uns lives with the spring-keeper."
"The spring-keeper! Who is he?"
"Oh, we uns found him when they took my maw! He is a little daffy--that is what folks say, but we uns can't see but he is as smart as them what laughs at him."
The young people were quite aghast at the news that the person with whom this strange being lived was considered daffy. The boys had their doubts about the advantage of asking shelter in a house where two crazy people lived, but perhaps the spring-keeper was not crazy, after all. This young man certainly seemed harmless enough, and perhaps he could show them the way to Greendale.
"Does the spring-keeper live far from here?" asked Lil.
"Oh, no, just round the mounting. We uns will show you uns the way."
He filled his bucket at the crystal spring and then led the way along the narrow path.
"Who taught you to play the jew's-harp?" asked Lucy.
"n.o.body! We uns just makes the music we uns finds in the trees. We uns can make the tune the bee tree makes, too. We uns can do so many things.
We uns made these pants and every day we uns sews a pretty new color on this s.h.i.+rt. The spring-keeper fetches pretty cloth from the store and sometimes we uns sews quilts. Look, thar's the place whar the spring-keeper lives when he ain't a-tendin' to his business."
"What is his business?" asked Frank.
"We uns done told you he's a spring-keeper. Be you uns daffy, too?"
That made them all laugh, and then the guide laughed too, delightedly.
"Now we uns is found some happiness!" he exclaimed. "The spring-keeper says that is all that's worth finding. He says he has found it but he never laughs like that. He just smiles but never makes no music when he's happy. But neither does the suns.h.i.+ne."
The cabin which they were approaching was different in a way from the usual one found in the mountains. It was made of logs and had the outline of the ordinary abode of the mountaineer, but a long porch went along two sides and this porch was screened. Screening is something almost unheard-of with the natives, although the flies abound in the mountains as well as in the valleys. A little clearing around the cabin was one great tangle of flowers: golden glow, love-in-the-mist, four o'clocks, bachelor's b.u.t.tons, zenias, asters, hollyhocks, sunflowers, poppies, cornflowers, scarlet sage, roses and honeysuckles. Some greedy bees were still buzzing around the roses, although the sun was down and it was high time all laborers were knocking off for the night. There was a light in the cabin which sent a very cheering message to the foot-sore travelers--also an odor of cooking that appealed very strongly to all of them but sent Skeeter off into an ecstasy of antic.i.p.ation.
The guide put down his bucket of water and placing his jew's-harp to his lips gave a kind of buzzing call. Immediately an old man came out of the door.
"Is that you, Tom t.i.t?" It was such a kind, sweet voice that the four were made sure they were right in coming to his abode.
"Yes, Spring-keeper, and we uns found something."
"I'll be bound you have! What is it this time? Another aeroplane or a rainbow?"
"No, it is four laughs, look!"
The old man did look, and when he saw the wanderers, he hastened out to make them welcome. Never was there a more charming manner than his. No wonder the half-witted youth thought of the suns.h.i.+ne in connection with his smile.
He was tall and stalwart, with a long gray beard that could only be equalled by Santa Claus himself. His hair was silver white and his cheeks as rosy as a girl would like to have hers. His eyes were gray and so kind and twinkling that all fear of his being crazy was immediately dispelled from the minds of our young people.
"They thought they were lost but they were wrong--we uns found 'em."
"Good work, Tom t.i.t! And now what are we to do with them?" he asked, although he did not wait to find out what his poor companion had in his befuddled mind but ushered them to the porch, where he made the girls comfortable in steamer chairs and let the boys find seats for themselves.