Left alone, Ulyth sat down with extreme caution on the deficient camp-stool and surveyed the situation. There were clouds across a waning moon, and it was fairly dark. She could see the outlines of the tents in black ma.s.ses behind her; in front the field lay dim and shadowy, with a mist creeping from the water. Up above, to her right, against an indigo sky, the Great Bear was standing almost on its head, with its tail in the air. One of the tests of a Torch-bearer was a knowledge of the stars, and Ulyth had learnt how to tell the time by the position of this particular constellation. She made a rapid calculation now, reckoning from the day of the month, and was glad to find it came out correctly.
Ca.s.siopeia"s white arms were hidden by the mountains, but the Milky Way shimmered in the east, and overhead Arcturus blazed as he had done in the days when the patriarch Job recorded his brilliance. To the extreme north a patch of light lay behind Penllwyd, where the sun, at this season hardly dipping far out of sight, worked his course round to the east again. How quiet it was! The silence was almost oppressive. The gentle lap of the tiny waves on the lake was not equal to the rush of the stream at The Woodlands. Not even a night-bird called. The camp was absolutely still and slumbering.
Ulyth rose and paced about for a while. It was too cold to sit still long. She must only use the camp-stool when she needed a rest.
"Sentries ought to be allowed chocolates," she murmured, "or hot peppermints, just to keep up their spirits. Ugh! How weird and eerie it all is! There isn"t a sound anywhere. It"s not an enlivening performance to keep watch, I must say."
She stopped, suddenly on the alert. What was that noise in the darkness to her left? She distinctly heard a rustle among the gorse-bushes, and thought something moved in the deep shadow.
"Halt! Who goes there?" she challenged.
There was no reply, but the rustle sounded again, this time nearer to the camp. She listened with every sense strained to the uttermost.
Something or someone was slinking in from the field and creeping cautiously towards the tents; of that she was nearly certain. Wild ideas of thieving tramps flooded her brain. A louder sound confirmed her suspicions. She could hear it quite distinctly in the direction of the kitchen. Her duty was plain. She blew her whistle promptly; it was answered by those of the three other sentries, from the north, east, and south quarters, and immediately torches began to flash, and voices to ask the cause of alarm. The guard was roused, and began an instant tour of inspection.
"Something crept past me, straight towards the centre of the camp,"
Ulyth reported.
The lights flashed away in the direction of the kitchen. The girls were on their mettle, and meant business. Whoever the intruder was, he should be run to earth and made to give an account of himself. They felt perfectly capable of taking him prisoner and binding his hands behind him with a rope. Indeed, they thought they should hugely enjoy doing so, particularly if he turned out to be a burglar. Numbers give courage, and a very martial spirit was in the air.
"If he"s hiding in one of the tents we"ll drag him out by the legs!"
proclaimed Marjorie Earnshaw fiercely.
Everybody was sure it must be a "he". The news spread through the camp like lightning, and it was even rumoured that he wore a coat and top-boots. Miss Teddington herself had emerged, and was waving a lantern as a searchlight.
"This way," bl.u.s.tered Marjorie, heading for the kitchen quarter. "The sneaking cur! We"ll have him!"
"Why aren"t we allowed bayonets?" lamented Ruth White.
"Oh, I hear a noise! There"s something there really," urged Kathleen Simpson, with a most unsoldierly squeal. "Oh, I say! Here he comes!"
There was a sudden scratch and scramble, and from out the larder rushed a dark object on four legs, with a white something in its mouth. Helen made a valiant dash at it, but it dodged her, and flew like the wind away between the tents and off somewhere over the fields in the direction of the farm. The guard with one accord burst out laughing.
"A thieving Welsh sheep-dog raiding the larder!" exclaimed Catherine.
"It"s stolen a whole leg of mutton, the brute!" wailed Doris, who belonged to the Commissariat Department. "I didn"t think it could have reached that. It must have jumped high. It doesn"t deserve its prize."
"No wonder it wouldn"t answer when I challenged it," observed Ulyth.
"Well, I"m glad it"s no worse than a dog," said Miss Teddington. "We must take steps to-morrow to make the larder safer, or we shall be troubled again."
"We"ll place a guard over it," replied Catherine promptly. "Jessie Morrison, you are on sentry duty at once to watch the larder. Maggie Orton will relieve you at three."
CHAPTER XIII
Under Canvas
After the scare in the small hours, everyone settled down again to slumber. Nevertheless the girls woke with the birds. Many of them had registered a solemn vow the night before that they would watch the sun rise, and each was pledged to arouse the others at all costs; so at the first hint of dawn heads began to pop out of tents, and the camp was astir. Addie Knighton, still half-dazed with sleep, was led firmly by Gertrude Oliver to the edge of the lake and forced to wash her face.
"You"ll thank me when you"re really awake," purred Gertie, ignoring her victim"s protests. "It"s only what I promised you faithfully last night.
You told me to duck you in, if nothing else would do it."
"Oh, I"m awake now! I am truly. You needn"t be afraid I"ll go back to bed," bleated Addie, afraid her friend might proceed to extremities.
"Hadn"t you better haul up Alice next?"
"I left Chrissie doing that. She"s going round the tents with a wet sponge. Look! Isn"t that worth getting up to see?"
The grey of the sky had flushed into carnation pink, and up from behind the wall of the mountains rose the great ball of the sun, red at first through a veil of mist, but shining out golden as he cleared the cloud-bank. Everything was waking up. A peewit called by the water"s edge, a c.o.c.k crew from the farm-yard, and a dog barked l.u.s.tily.
"Our thief of the night complaining of an attack of indigestion, I hope," said Ulyth, joining Addie and Gertie at the lake-side. "How much can a dog eat without feeling ill?"
"We had a collie that consumed three rabbits once," laughed Addie. "We didn"t ask it how it felt afterwards. It got a good thrashing, I remember."
"We"ll keep a stick handy to-night, in case of any more raids. Who"s on breakfast duty? I"m getting wildly hungry. I hope the bacon hasn"t disappeared with the mutton."
Although the three days" sojourn under canvas was in a sense a holiday, it was conducted in a very business-like spirit and with rigid discipline. All the daily duties were performed zealously by bands of servers, who polished tins, peeled potatoes, washed plates, or cleaned shoes, as the case might be. The League was putting to a practical proof the seven rules of the Camp-fire Law. Beauty was all around them, and knowledge to be had for the asking. They proved themselves trustworthy by their service, and glorified work in the doing of the camp tasks.
Health was drawn with every breath of mountain air, and, judging from their faces, the seventh rule, "Be happy", seemed almost superfluous.
Everyone looked radiant, even Mary Acton, who was a champion grumbler, and generally ready to complain of crumpled rose-leaves. After breakfast and service duty came drill, a more than usually formal affair, for Mr.
Arnold himself reviewed them. He had great experience with the Boy Scouts, so the girls were anxious to do the utmost credit to their beloved Guardian of the Fire. The Ambulance Corps gave a demonstration of First Aid; another detachment took down and re-erected a tent; the juniors showed their abilities in knot-tying, and the seniors in signalling. Their inspector declared himself perfectly satisfied, and commended certain members for special proficiency.
"I shall tell the boys" battalions how well you can do," he declared.
"It will put them on their mettle. They won"t want to be beaten by a ladies" school."
When the display was over, all dispersed for a ramble round the lake while the dinner stewed; only the cooks on duty remained, carefully watching their pots. Ulyth, Rona, Lizzie, and Gertrude wandered past the farm and up the hill-side to the head of a crag, whence they had a glorious view down over the sheet of water below.
"Llyn Gwynedd looks so cheerful and innocent now, one wouldn"t believe it could ever be treacherous and do dreadful things," remarked Gertrude.
"What things?" asked Ulyth.
"Why, I believe someone was drowned just down there a great many years ago. I heard Catherine saying so last night, so I suppose it"s true."
"It"s perfectly true, and I can tell you who it was," answered Lizzie.
"It was the eldest son of Lord Glyncraig. He was fishing here, and the boat got upset. It was the most dreadful tragedy. He was such a fine, promising young fellow, and had only been married quite a short time. He was the heir, too, which made it worse."
"But there are other sons, aren"t there?" asked Ulyth.
"Yes, but he was the flower of the family. The rest are no good. The second son, the present heir, is a helpless invalid, the third is in a sanatorium for consumption, and the fourth was the proverbial prodigal, and disappeared. If Lord Glyncraig knows where he is, n.o.body else does."
"Hadn"t the one who was drowned any children?"
"Only a girl. The second and third aren"t married."
"Then will the estate have to go to the prodigal in the end?"
"I suppose so, if he"s alive, and turns up to claim it."
"Peers have their troubles as much as commoners," commented Ulyth. "I"ve never heard this before. I"m sorry for Lord Glyncraig. Plas Cafn is too good to go to a prodigal."