XIII

MISHAPS

The place where the party had arrived was very wild and picturesque. It was on a plateau with perpendicular cliffs rising on one side, and a vast chasm on the other. They had come up from below by a long winding path. This was somewhat difficult to ascend, and there was enough of the semblance of danger in its steepness to make the children feel a strong interest in the work of climbing, and to fill their hearts with satisfaction and triumph when they reached the elevation to which it conducted them.

Some portions of the plateau were shaded by tall firs and pines. Here and there the trunks of ancient trees which had been overturned in former years by the winds, lay on the ground concealed by rank growths of ferns, laurels, and raspberry bushes. One such, very large, and hollow at the big end, lay near where Beechnut had pitched his tent. The open end was turned toward the tent, and formed a mouth like that of an oven. From this open end the log extended a long distance among the bushes until at last it was lost in a mass of stumps and dead tangled branches.

When the party left the tent to begin the gathering of blueberries, they supposed the spot chosen for their encampment was so secluded, that the arrangements they had made there would remain wholly unseen and unknown until they returned. They had not, however, been gone more than half an hour before the tent was discovered by a strange observer who was very much charmed at the sight. This observer was a large and beautiful mother squirrel. She was a gray squirrel, and Beechnut had seen her when he came up with the tent, standing on a ledge of rock watching anxiously to see whether he would go near the place where her nest was. In the nest were her two little ones, and she was very anxious lest harm should come to them. After Beechnut had put his tent in the cleft he still saw the squirrel standing motionless on the rock and watching him.

On the following day, as the squirrel was returning to her nest with some food for the little ones, she discovered the tent which the party had just set up and left. She was astonished and greatly alarmed. Her nest was in the hollow tree trunk which has already been described, about midway of the length.

The squirrel was on the branch of a fir tree, and she ran out to the end and stopped to examine the tent more closely. What could it be? Was it some sort of a trap set to catch her? Or, was it possible that it was an enormous mushroom that had suddenly sprung up out of the ground?

She looked at it very attentively for a few minutes without being able to come to any satisfactory conclusion, and then began to think of her little ones. She was afraid they were not safe. So she ran along the bough of the fir tree to the main stem, and down that to the ground. Thence she leaped four feet through the air to her log, ran along on it till she came to a small hole in a crotch near the place where her nest was situated within, and, lowering her tail, she crept in. To her great joy she found her young squirrels perfectly safe. In fact, they were asleep, wholly unconscious that any tent had been erected near their dwelling.

The squirrel, though much relieved at finding all safe at her nest, was by no means easy. She came out of her hole repeatedly to look at the tent. Finally she crept softly along toward it, and finding no motion or sound was to be observed, she advanced close to it. Finally, she went in at the door and crept cautiously around. There were various baskets, boxes, and parcels lying on the ground, and she examined these attentively, smelling them and attempting to pull them open with her paws. She succeeded in getting partly into one parcel which was wrapped in a newspaper, and came to the edge of a cracker. She began to nibble. It tasted like corn, she thought, only much nicer and more delicate.

She was just considering the possibility of carrying home a portion to her young ones when she heard voices and the trampling of feet approaching. Immediately she ran out of the tent, scrambled through the grass to her log, and mounted on the end of it. A boy and two or three girls were coming along the pathway. It was Frank accompanied by some of the younger girls who had got tired of gathering blueberries, and had concluded to come back to the tent and rest there and get ready for dinner.

The squirrel hurried away and got into the fir tree, and hiding in the crotch of a limb where she could see without being seen, she watched the children to find out what they would do.

"Carry your baskets carefully," said Frank, "and look where you step, or you will tumble down and spill all your berries."

The girls obeyed this caution and came forward slowly until they all reached the tent. "There," said Frank, "we will set our berries inside, and then we'll get ready for dinner."

"What can we do about the dinner?" asked one of the girls named Augusta.

"We can choose a place for it," replied Frank, "and carry out the things."

"Yes, and we can build a fire," said Augusta. "We shall want a fire."

She looked around to find a good spot for it, and noticed the log which presented its open end toward where she was standing. "There is a grand place," said she, "in the end of that log. The hollow will do for our fireplace."

"But we have no matches," said Frank.

"Oh, there are plenty of them in the tent, somewhere," Augusta responded. "Beechnut always brings matches. I will hunt for them in the parcels while you are getting some wood."

Frank agreed to this proposal, and calling to Margaret to come and help him, he began to gather sticks and knots and dry. leaves and crowd them into what Augusta called the fireplace. In the meantime Augusta was busily employed in the tent, opening baskets and unrolling parcels in search of Beechnut's match box. After creating great disorder in her search and throwing the things all about the ground inside the tent, she at last found the matches and ran to carry them to Frank.

While opening the parcels she intended to tie them up just as they had been before; but, when she discovered the matches after such a long search, she was so excited and overjoyed that she lost all thought of the disorder which she had made. The squirrel still remained in the crotch of the tree, wondering what these strange intruders into her dominions could be intending to do.

Frank rubbed a match and lighted the mass of combustibles which he had crowded into the hollow log, and he soon had a blazing and crackling fire. Augusta ran around in all directions getting more fuel. Now and then she broke off small branches from the hemlock trees growing in the vicinity and held them in the flames to hear the snapping they occasioned.

The principal portion of the smoke, ascended in dense volumes toward the sky. Some of it, however, was forced along inside of the log until it reached the dark and narrow niche where the squirrel had made her nest.

The young squirrels were almost smothered, and the mother was in a state of extreme terror and distress. The smoke, the flames, the shouts and exclamations of the children, filled her with dismay, and she was unable to decide whether to remain where she was to watch the course of events, or to hasten back to her hole and endeavor to rescue her little ones from the threatened destruction.

While things were in this state the attention of the children, and the squirrel as well, was arrested by the sudden appearance of Beechnut. He came running, out of breath with exertion, and demanded to know who had built that fire.

Frank was just on the point of boasting of it as his work; but it was plain from Beechnut's air and manner that he considered it an offense to be condemned, and not an exploit to be honored and applauded. So, instead of saying proudly, "I did it," Frank hesitated a moment and then asked, "Why? What is the matter?"

"You must not have a fire here," said Beechnut.

"Come and help me put it out."

He began at once to pull away the burning brands and scatter them about on the rocks and grass, wherever he saw that there was nothing which would be in danger of kindling.

"Why must we not have a fire here?" insisted Frank.

"We will talk about that by and by," replied Beechnut. "The thing to be done now is to put it out. Go and get the ax from the tent. I brought it up yesterday."

By the time Frank arrived with the ax, Beechnut had pulled the fire entirely to pieces, though the great hollow log was still burning, and the flames were working their way farther and farther into it. Beechnut took the ax, and going along until he had got beyond the part which was on fire he began to cut into the log with heavy and rapid blows. He was going to stop the progress of the fire by cutting off the log.

As it happened this was the only measure which could save the young squirrels in the nest from certain death; though Beechnut knew nothing of their presence, and was acting with an entirely different purpose. To the mother squirrel the situation seemed worse instead of better. The hubbub which Beechnut made in putting out the fire, and the apparent extension of the fire itself by the scattering of the brands, and now those terrible blows of the ax on her dwelling filled her with double consternation. She scrambled down the fir tree, ran along the log, and rushed into her hole, which she found filled with suffocating vapor. She curled down over the little squirrels and remained for a time stupefied with fright, listening in dismay to the sound of the blows Beechnut was dealing all the while on the log at no great distance from her nest.

Presently the burning end of the log was cut off and split to pieces, and the fire reduced to a few smoldering brands. Beechnut then started to carry his ax back to the tent.

"Now tell me," said Frank, "why I must not build a fire here."

"It was wrong for you to build a fire here," responded Beechnut, "because you had no permission to build a fire anywhere. You will have to be punished, I think."

Augusta looked a little alarmed, but she had the generosity to say that the building of the fire was her fault more than Frank's, and that if anybody was to be punished she was the one.

"No;" said Beechnut, "if a girl and a boy together do mischief, the boy must bear all the punishment."

"Well," said Frank, "what is the punishment to be?"

They were now inside of the tent, and as Beechnut put away the ax, he replied, "You must go out there somewhere on the green grass, and stand on your head and count twenty, ten for you and ten for Augusta."

Frank laughed. "Suppose I cannot stand on my head so long," said he.

"You must try ten times," was Beechnut's response, "and if you don't succeed in ten times the ten attempts shall go for your punishment."

"Very well," said Frank. "Come, Augusta."

Augusta followed him, skipping along very merrily. Margaret remained behind and said, looking up anxiously to Beechnut, "Oh, dear me! I am afraid he will break his neck."

"You need not worry about that," said Beechnut. "Who ever heard of a boy breaking his neck by standing on his head?"

Soon after this the remainder of the party returned to the tent with pails and baskets very heavily laden. After covering the berries over with green leaves they set the pails and baskets under the shade of some overhanging rocks. Beechnut was busy in the tent getting into order the things that Augusta had strewn around, and when he had finished, the provisions were all taken to a flat rock which Wallace had selected as a good place for the dinner party.

At a little distance was a hollow in the side of a cliff where Beechnut said Frank and Augusta might build a fire if they wished.

"Here, it will be all right," said he, "but a fire in that great log might easily have escaped into the woods, and then have spread and done an immense amount of damage."

After the dinner the whole party remained for some time sitting on the flat rock enjoying the cool mountain breeze and talking together. At length they arose and began to saunter slowly around, going out to various points where they could get extended views of the country below. Beechnut went to the spring, and worked there arranging some stones about it in such a manner as to make it more convenient to get the water.

A part of the company, among whom were Parker, Wallace, Mary Bell, and Caroline, rambled to the brink of the precipice which was near by. Caroline persisted in going quite close to the edge — not so close as to be in any danger of falling, yet close enough to make most of the party uneasy and uncomfortable. Both Mary Bell and Wallace begged her not to do so, but this seemed only to cause her to be more disposed to display her courage.

Parker, however, said there was no reason for being timid, and that he believed he could climb down. Mary Bell was afraid he might make the attempt and she turned and walked away.

The others followed, and they were all going along together when Caroline took off her bonnet and began to swing it about in her hand, holding it by the strings. "Be careful," said Wallace. "If the strings should break, or slip through your fingers, your bonnet would be carried over the precipice by the wind."

"Oh, that would be no matter," responded Caroline. "I dare say Parker would climb down and get it for me, if you were afraid to go."

So she continued to swing her bonnet as before. The idea of having a young gentleman engaged in such a difficult and perhaps dangerous expedition in her service was a very agreeable one to her mind, and without intending to do so she let her fingers relax a little as she was thinking of the matter. Before she was aware of it the bonnet had gone from her hand and was rolling over and over on the ground.

"Stop it!" shouted Parker.

Wallace darted forward, but it had reached the brink of the precipice and went sailing down through the air until it lodged on a projecting shelf of rock a hundred feet below. Caroline looked very much alarmed. "What shall I do?" said she. "You can't get it for. me, can you, Parker?"

"Yes," said Parker, "I can get it."

He began to search for a place where it would be possible to descend. But he soon returned to his companions with the report that the precipice was too steep.

Mary Bell and Wallace stood a little aside from the others. "Isn't there any way to get down?" asked Mary.

"I am not certain," Wallace replied. "Perhaps I could get down along under the ledges by starting in the crevice you see a short distance back of where we stand."

"I would not try," said Mary. "It is no matter about the bonnet. She may have mine to wear home, and I will put a handkerchief on my head."

"I will go and see whether I can get down or not," said Wallace. "You need not be anxious about me. I shall not run any risks. I have no intention of hazarding my life to save a bonnet."

He walked to where he thought the descent might be practicable and began to go down. In the meantime the news of the accident had spread, and the rest of the children of the party had come running to join those who were watching Wallace. They stood on a projecting ledge where they could easily see him as he descended. He proceeded cautiously, sometimes walking, sometimes going down backward on his hands and knees.

At length, to the great relief and joy of those who were observing him, he reached the comparatively level spot where the bonnet was lying. He took the bonnet up and waved it in the air in token of the successful accomplishment of his expedition, and then sat down on the rock to rest.

A few minutes later he rose and picked a little flower that was growing on the verge of the precipice. He put it in the bonnet and climbed back up the cliff the way he had come. When he reached the top he delivered the bonnet to Caroline, but the flower he gave to Mary Bell.

After this the party all came down the mountain and went to their several homes.