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Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders in the Great North Woods Part 23

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"Great thought of yours, J. Elfreda," complimented Lieutenant Wingate.

"Elfreda uses her head, Hippy. How much better than flying into a rage and threatening your enemy with dire things," reminded Grace.

"You don't always do that yourself," retorted Hippy. "Thanks, Joe. Had it not been for you we might have had a disturbance."

"Aren't we ever going to have peace?" wailed Emma. "I know I shall have nervous prostration at this rate."

"Cheer up. Let the voice of nature soothe your troubled spirits and rise above such common things as mere officers of the law," comforted Hippy.

"What next?"

"Suppose we break camp and move," suggested Grace.

"Yes, yes; let's do so," urged Anne.

"Do you think they will come back, darlin'?" questioned Nora anxiously.

"Not before it is time for the swallows to build their nests under the eaves."

Joe, muttering to herself, went out to fetch in her pack mules, June and July, preparatory to loading the equipment on them for the start. Joe was a little rougher with the animals than usual, and their ears, tilted back at a sharp angle, indicated their resentment, but the guide was too angry to notice this danger signal. A sharp slap on June's thigh to make the animal step over was followed by a lightning-like flash of two tough little mule heels, and Joe Shafto was lifted from her feet and hurled against July, and then July began to kick.

The Overlanders, frightened for the safety of the guide, ran to a.s.sist her, when, out of the mix-up, leaped the forest woman, her hair tumbled down her back, and eyes blazing through the big horn-rimmed spectacles, she having rolled under July and out of the way with amazing agility.

"I'll larn ye, ye beasts!" she shrieked, running for her club.

June felt the sting of it, and July grunted as the club descended on the fleshy part of her hip, at the same instant shooting both hind feet into the air; but this time Joe was out of reach.

"Here, here!" cried Hippy, springing forward to interfere. "We don't permit any one to beat animals in this menagerie," he chided, grabbing the woman's club.

"Leggo!" shrieked Joe, wrenching the club from his hands. "No man ain't goin' to tell Joe Shafto what she kin do. Git out of here!" she raged, advancing threateningly on Hippy. "I'll paste them mules when I want to, and--"

"That's all right, old dear," soothed Hippy, backing up laughingly, but Joe followed him, shaking the club before his face.

"Don't ye 'old dear' me. Mules is swine, and no better'n some men, and I give ye notice no man ain't goin' to come 'tween me and my mules. I'll paste 'em when I like, and I'll paste 'em like they did me, the varmints, and I won't have no animile that walks like a man interferin'

'tween me and the mules and tellin' me what ter do. Git out of here afore I give ye a wallop on the jaw, fer I'm goin' ter finish what I begun on June, and her name'll be December when I git through, and don't ye fergit it." Joe grabbed the mule by an ear, gave the animal a prod with her club, then slapped June's face.

"Consarn ye, ye pore insect that's tryin to look like a hoss, but that ain't even got the skin of one, I reckon ye'll be good arter this," she finished, and threw a pack over the back of the now thoroughly subdued pack-mule. "Git started, ye folks, and don't say nothin' to me, for I'm li'ble to git mad arter the stirrin' up them mules give me."

"_Alors!_ Let's go," suggested Elfreda after the laughter of the Overlanders had subsided.

They were on their way a short time later, laughing as they headed for the section on which they hoped eventually to meet Tom, and make permanent camp. The forest woman had never been in that part of the woods, but, knowing the general direction, thought she could hold to it and come out somewhere near the spot they desired to reach.

That night they lay down to sleep in the open, wrapped in their blankets. For the week following the Overland Riders camped out in the same way, and nothing occurred to mar the life of freedom and happiness that they were leading.

The river had been left to the right of them, for the sake of what Joe said might be better going, and a fairly direct course was followed for several days more. One night, however, they suddenly found themselves on the banks of the Little Big Branch where it had taken a deep bend. Hippy declared that it had made the bend to be near Emma and murmur sweet nothings in her ear.

"Listen well, little one," he admonished. "Tidings from the frozen north, as well as messages intended for our ears alone, may be borne to us through you. It is mighty fortunate that we have you with us."

The bank of the river was their camp that night. The party slept just under the bluff, protected by it and lulled to sleep by the gently rippling waters of the forest stream. Early on the following morning they were aroused by an uproar in the camp. Out of the uproar came the shrill voice of their guide.

"Get out of here, ye lazy good-for-nothin'. Think this 'ere is a lumberjack hotel? Sick 'im, Henry! Sick 'im!" raged Joe Shafto.

Grace, hearing the bear growl, sprang up and ran out. Her companions were not far behind her.

Sitting crouched over the campfire, which he had built, calmly cooking his breakfast, was the Indian, w.i.l.l.y Horse, wholly undisturbed by the uproar that his presence had created.

"Call off the bear!" commanded Grace sharply. "The man is our friend."

"He's a lazy good-for-nothin' and he's stole yer breakfast," protested the forest woman, as she headed off Henry and drove him back with sundry prods of her foot.

"Good morning, Mr. Horse," greeted Emma.

"Mornin'," answered the Indian briefly.

Grace by this time was shaking hands with him; then the Overland girls surrounded him and demanded to know why he had not been to see them before.

Emma started to tell w.i.l.l.y what a lot of trouble they had been in when Grace interjected a remark that caused Elfreda to wonder.

"Perhaps w.i.l.l.y Horse knows more about our late unpleasantnesses than you do, Emma," said Grace.

"h.e.l.lo, old man. How are you?" cried Hippy, striding forward with outstretched hand.

"How do! You Big Friend. Me make breakfast fire here."

"Help yourself," urged the girls.

"All yours," added Hippy with a wave of the hand that encompa.s.sed the entire camp.

"Not includin' the guide," differed Joe Shafto.

Grace told w.i.l.l.y to wait until their breakfast was ready and eat with them, but the Indian shook his head and stolidly continued preparing his own breakfast. When it was ready he ate it, then sat back and smoked his pipe.

"See other Big Friend," he finally vouchsafed.

"Tom Gray?" questioned Grace, instantly divining who w.i.l.l.y meant.

The Indian nodded his head.

"Him say all right," he added after an interval of puffing. "Say him come along bymeby. Say w.i.l.l.y Horse show you place to camp. Me show."

"That will be fine. Did my husband say when he expected to join us?"

asked Grace.

"Say him come along soon. You see other white men?" w.i.l.l.y bent a steady look on the face of Hippy Wingate.

"I should say we have. Deputy sheriffs, game wardens and a forest ranger."

"Yes, and we saw a fellow named Peg Tatem. We had a fight with him,"

Emma informed their visitor.

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