"I only saw one before," said Joan.
"Because we were _on_ that one,--but which one was it?"
"Coming from the left, to be sure. Would we be coming from the interior?" asked Joan, impatiently.
So they took the lefthand trail, although they really had come up by the other one, which led from the creek where their canoe was waiting.
"Jo, I believe both those trails were worn by animals going to the creek," ventured Julie, as the idea suddenly came to her.
"Well, you said tourists would surely visit here and leave a trail!"
Joan returned, jeeringly.
For once Julie made no reply in self-justification. The two scouts kept on hiking until they were so fatigued that they both felt like crying.
"I hope we"re not lost," whimpered Joan, wiping her eyes.
"Of course not! Folks are never lost unless they get into a panic of fear," declared Julie, keeping up her own courage by trying to boost that of her companion.
Again the girls climbed and climbed, until presto! right in front and down far below, was the lovely lake! Oh, how beautiful it looked! They stood where they were for a few moments sighing in relief that now they were sure to be rescued. Then Julie frowned and looked at Joan.
"Jo, is there anything wrong with my eyes? I can"t see any meadow opposite us."
"Neither can I! There"s a rocky pine-topped wall over there."
"But there _was_ a flat meadow where we camped, wasn"t there?" queried Julie.
"O Julie, you"re not going daffy, are you?" wailed Joan.
"Good gracious! Why do you ask such a thing! _Was_ there a meadow over there?" screamed Julie, shaking Joan fearfully.
"I"ve heard that folks lose their minds when they"re lost in the wilderness," cried Joan, forgetting to answer the all-important question about the meadow.
"Will you tell me what I want to know--_was there a meadow_?" yelled Julie, stamping her foot vehemently as she spoke.
She had been standing upon long wiry witch gra.s.s that had washed its blades downwards toward the lake, and having but little roothold in the thin layer of dried moss and top soil that was spread over the cliff, the sharp stamping of a scout heel loosened this slight attachment.
Then like a mirage in the desert, Joan beheld her friend vanish! Not swiftly and instantaneously, but slowly and surely, as the roots and matted surface reluctantly broke away because of Julie"s weight and downward gravity.
"Save me! Oh Jo! Save me!" screamed Julie, clutching wildly at scrub bushes that held tenaciously to the crevices and so gave her temporary resistance. But her weight always tore them away finally, and then she had to grasp the next one.
"Oh Julie--come back! Come back, don"t leave me all alone in this wilderness!" wailed Joan, wringing her hands.
The sudden realization that Joan thought only of herself in face of the calamity that threatened her friend, served to cool Julie"s fear; then she used common sense in sparing herself as far as possible. She was out of Joan"s sight now, and by making use of every bush, root, or vine on the slanting rocks, she resisted the force of gravitation enough to slide slowly instead of being catapulted from the heights.
She knew not just where this chute would end--in deep or shallow water.
If the former she still might swim to sh.o.r.e, if that were not too far away.
The last few feet of this slide ended abruptly where the cliff had been worn away by the spring freshets and floods. Here Julie dropped into the water which formed a hole along the rockbound sh.o.r.e, so that she went in without striking anything, and immediately began swimming to free herself from the tangle of roots and debris that fell with her.
She swam for a distance until she found a narrow edge of sand where she might sit and rest in the sunshine. So she managed to reach this twenty-inch-wide refuge and shook out her hair to dry. She wondered what Joan would do when she found she had to make her own way alone to the canoe! And the picture she painted of her erstwhile companion, stumbling along weeping, gave her some satisfaction.
This spirit of vengeance, however, was soon gone, and a kindly feeling took its place. She began to plan how she might creep along that narrow edge of beach to reach the point on land where she could see the creek pouring into the lake. From there she could signal Joan when she reached the canoe, and thus relieve her mind of the fear that her chum had been drowned.
After overcoming many obstacles, she reached the jutting land that marked the entrance to the creek. The canoe had landed on the opposite side, further up stream. Hardly had she gained the top of this promontory before she heard excited voices, and one above the others wailing dismally.
Instantly she knew Joan was safe and that the others had arrived. A line of Scripture flashed through her mind and caused her to smile--"The voice of one crying in the wilderness," quoth Julie.
No sooner had she grasped the fact that she would be with her old friends in a few moments, than she recovered all her old _sang froid_.
She shook out her clinging clothes, and twisted up her half-dried hair, then sat down on top of the promontory and sang. Yes, _sang_, and sang merrily, too, because she thought that would convey the impression of how unconcerned she felt.
Sound carries far over the water, so Julie"s singing was heard by the rescuers as soon as they came out into the lake. Then they shouted, and she replied. Finally they saw the solitary figure sitting upon a rock with both hands clasped about her knees, singing as if her heart was too full of joy to hold it all.
The moment the canoes came near enough, the Captain gazed up, and asked, "How can you get down, Julie?"
"Same way I came up, Verny--with my feet!"
Every one laughed, but Mrs. Vernon shook her head as she murmured, "Same old Julie! Nothing on earth will quench that spirit."
Suddenly, to the horror of every one in the canoes, they saw a form shoot past them and dive into the water. But as suddenly, a laughing face appeared above the surface and soon Julie was in one of the canoes.
Had it not been for the danger of upsetting, the occupants of that canoe would have hugged the scout in their relief at having found her safe and sound,--because Joan"s report had been more than despairing.
"O Julie, darling! I thought you were dead!" cried Joan.
"Did you? But you wailed for yourself when you saw me go down to perdition," scorned Julie.
"But how did you manage to get down to the promontory, Julie?" argued Joan, ignoring the other"s reply.
"Now, how do you s"pose? I motored there, of course!"
When they all returned to the belated and cold dinner, it was late afternoon, and no one felt in the mood for fresh adventures that day.
So they decided to camp on the lovely meadow for the night, and continue the trip in the morning. The three scouts who had been left in camp to guard the dinner were not told of the escape until later.
As they all dawdled languidly over the last fragments of the supper, a silver bar slanted suddenly across their faces, and the very dishes were transformed into a shimmering glory. The broad shaft of light that shone from the newly-risen moon lighted up the whole meadow and penetrated far into the dark fringe of pines that bordered the meadowland.
Then the full moon rose higher in the vaulted dome of the blue heavens--heavens as blue as the Venetian Sea; and sharp points of starlight began to twinkle like tiny beacons on crafts at anchor in that peaceful haven of fathomless blue.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ON TO FLAT TOP MOUNTAIN
What would a trip in the Rockies mean without an Indian guide? He is the most valuable a.s.set one can have. No matter where he finds himself, under the greatest stress of difficult conditions and circ.u.mstances, the Indian guide will manage to save the day. No human being can get as much out of Nature as an Indian. No one can find as desirable a campsite without loss of time. No one can make fire as quickly, pitch tents so securely, weave beds so comfortably, clean up so neatly, spin yarns so thrillingly, and smoke a pipe so contentedly, as an Indian.
So, in the early morning when the scouts awakened to the hope of new adventures, they found their guides preparing breakfast. Julie and Joan felt no after-effects of their unpleasant experience, other than in memory, and there was no reason for that to cripple either one.