The Meadow Brook Girls Across Country Part 8

"I-I believe I will," faltered Margery, who was limping now.

"Margery!" exclaimed Harriet rebukingly, "if you ride, then you will have to drop out of the hike, and we'll send you home."

"I-I think I'll keep on walking," Margery decided meekly.

The rest of the journey was accomplished without further complaints from either Tommy or Margery. Arriving at a place where they left the road and set off across a field, Jane explained that earlier in the day she had asked the permission of the owner of the field to camp there. She thought it would make an excellent camp site, the ponds being screened from the road by a heavy growth of willows, and there was plenty of dry wood to be had from the ruins of an old saw mill that stood near the ponds. The willows, also, would serve to hide the camp from the gaze of curious outsiders, a condition to be desired by young women tramping through the country.

The car was driven in among the willows, after which Harriet and Miss Elting began hauling the sections of their tent from the rear of the car. They went at the pitching of the tent like veterans, and placed the sections together, then raised the canvas, staking it down with the expertness of circusmen.

Harriet left the final staking-down to Tommy and Margery while she gathered the wood for the campfire. Jane and Miss Elting, in the meantime had begun getting out the supplies for supper. Two folding tables were set up in the tent, covered by fresh table cloths, on which were placed the dishes and the silver knives, forks and spoons that Jane had brought along. She said silver was none too good for the Meadow-Brook Girls. The water in the pond, being from nearby springs, was cool and refres.h.i.+ng. The girls decided to take a swim late in the evening after their suppers had been well digested.

It was a merry party of happy, brown-faced girls that sat down to the evening meal with the cheerful campfire blazing just outside, and the cool, fragrant autumn breezes drifting through the tent. Everything was charmingly peaceful, but the peace of the night was to be rudely disturbed later in the evening, and the girls were to have another exciting time of it ere they finally got to sleep.

CHAPTER V-CATCHING THE SPECKLED BEAUTIES

"Oh, girls, let's stay here the rest of the fall. Let's not walk any more," begged Margery.

"Oh, thee the fithh jump!" cried Tommy, pointing to the pond.

"Trout, too. If I only had a rod and line!" exclaimed Harriet.

"You shall have them, darlin'," answered Jane. "If you want anything you don't see, just ask for it. You'll find the whole fisherman's outfit strapped under the car-under the left mudguard. What about bait?"

"I think the trout will take flies. That is what they are jumping for,"

replied Harriet. "Where will I find the flies?"

"In the box under the rear seat."

"Thay, Harriet!" piped Tommy.

"Yes?"

"Catch me an oythter for breakfatht."

Harriet paused from jointing Jane's rod long enough to join in the merriment at Tommy's expense.

"Have you a dusty miller, Jane?" she asked, glancing up with flushed face.

"I don't know whether or not he's dusty, but there's an insect in there that they call a miller. Dad says it's a killer. I never saw it show its teeth. It's my opinion that it would be a fool fish that would bite a thing like that."

"You wait and see," chuckled Harriet, fixing the leader of the fly to the silk line, then balancing the rod by its b.u.t.t, swinging the line this way and that through the air to see how the reel worked.

"It will be too late by the time you get ready to fish," reminded Miss Elting.

"It isn't sunset yet, Miss Elting. There should be good fis.h.i.+ng for half an hour yet."

"Well, are you going to fish, or are you going to talk all the time during that half hour?" demanded Margery.

For answer Harriet swung the pole above her head. With a swish the dusty miller described a long curve in the air, then dived for the water, which it took with the faintest possible disturbance.

There followed a swish and a splash. The rod bent until it seemed to the spectators as though it would break under the strain. A flas.h.i.+ng, scintillating body jumped through the air, then plunged down deep into the clear waters of the pond.

"A fithh! A fithh!" screamed Tommy. "Harriet hath got a fithh. Oh, goodie, goodie, goodie!"

"Pull him in. You'll lose him!" shouted Margery.

"Now will you look at our Harriet?" cried Crazy Jane, hugging herself gleefully, swaying her body from side to side in the ecstasy of her delight.

The trout that Harriet Burrell had hooked was a lively fish. It was darting and diving with wonderful strength and quickness. The line cut the water with a swish, swish, swish that was plainly heard by all.

"Get it, Harriet! Oh, do get it," begged Hazel, in an agony of apprehension lest the trout succeed in freeing itself.

"The real fun of catching a fish is 'playing' it, just as Harriet is doing," answered Miss Elting.

Tommy had run out on one of the beams of the old mill race, where she was dancing up and down at the imminent risk of a ducking.

"Now, look out, girls," warned Harriet. "I'm going to try to land him."

There was a lively scurrying on the part of the girls. The trout came up protesting and fighting every inch of the way. Then Harriet, having reeled in the line, pulled the trout in toward the bank.

Unfortunately for Harriet, but fortunately for the fish, Tommy Thompson was in the way. The trout slapped her squarely in the face ere Harriet had discovered her companion's location. There was a shrill scream from Tommy, a light splash as the trout dropped into the pond, then a mighty splash as Tommy, losing her balance, went sprawling into the cold water.

"Oh, I have lost my fis.h.!.+" wailed Harriet.

"Catch Tommy!" yelled Margery.

Harriet threw down her rod and ran out on the beam where Tommy had been standing before the disaster. Tommy was splas.h.i.+ng and coughing, making frantic efforts to reach sh.o.r.e. Harriet knew the little blonde girl could swim, else she would have gone in after her. But Tommy wished to attract all the sympathy and attention of her companions in her direction, so she kept up a continuous screaming. Harriet reached down and gave her a hand.

"How's the water, Tommy?" questioned Harriet, mischievously.

"Co-o-o-old," chattered Tommy. "I'm fr-r-r-r-eezing. What did you knock me in for?"

"Why, I didn't realize that you were standing there. Why did you make me lose my fish?"

"There, there, girls! Tommy go into the tent at once and take off your wet clothing. Put on dry clothes unless you wish to go to bed now."

"I don't want to go to bed, I want to watch Harriet catch fithh."

"Oh, you've scared them all out of the pond," complained Margery.

"I hope you fall in, too, Buthter," was Tommy's parting salute, as she ran s.h.i.+vering to the tent. Fifteen minutes later, she emerged clad in dry clothing and apparently none the worse for her recent wetting.

In the meantime Harriet had returned to her fis.h.i.+ng, laughing softly over her companion's mishap and their argument following the plunge.

There were screams of delight when finally she landed a trout. Nor did she stop until the sun dipped behind the western hills and the speckled beauties went down into the depths of the stream, or skulked under the edge of its banks for the night. The result of the fis.h.i.+ng was a dozen fine trout, the smallest weighing only a little under a half pound and the largest weighing nearly two pounds, according to the guardian's estimate.