Dorothy Dale at Glenwood School Part 2

"Through the glen," suggested Dorothy, "there is such a pretty spot there where we can lunch."

"Which spot?" asked Tavia, "I thought this was all road with deep gutters at the side, running down to the river over the hill."

"I am quite sure this is the road father took us out to picnic on,"

said Dorothy with some hesitation.

"Well, maybe," said Tavia, "but I think this is the old river road. It seems to me I have been out this way before, and never even found a place to gather wild flowers, all road and gutters, then a big bank to the river."

"Let's try it anyhow," decided Nat. "It looks nice and shady."

So the turn was made to the left, and presently another turn rounded, then another, until both Tavia and Dorothy lost all sense of the location.

"We will wind up somewhere," declared Nat, when the girls protested they would be lost if the machine were not turned around, and brought back to the river road.

"This is such a tangle of a place," insisted Dorothy, "and we really might not meet a person to direct us."

"Then we will keep right on, and run into the next state," joked Nat, to whom being lost was fun, and having an adventure the best part of a ride.

For some time the Fire-Bird flew along, the beautiful August day adding a wonderful charm to the tender shade of the oaks that lined the road, and through which just enough sunshine peeped to temper the balmy shadows.

"I am hungry. It must be lunch time," said Dorothy, as they reached a pretty spot, "let's stop here and eat."

"Let's," agreed Nat, slowing up the machine.

"What do you suppose this road is for?" asked Ned, as neither the rumble of a wagon wheel nor any other sound broke the stillness that surrounded the party.

"For instance," suggested Tavia.

"Or for maps," said Ned.

"For automobile parties," declared Dorothy.

"For yours truly," finished Nat, stretching himself on the soft sod, that came down to the road as beautifully as if it had been made to order on a well-kept terrace.

The girls soon had the lunch cloth spread and the basket was then produced--or rather its contents were brought forth.

"Yum, yum," exclaimed Nat, smacking his lips as Dorothy began placing the eatables on the cloth.

"Oh, but water," sighed Tavia. "We were to get some as we came in the woods. There is a fine spring there."

"Two miles back," announced Nat.

"But there must be one near here," declared Tavia, "for there are forget-me-nots in this gra.s.s."

"Is that a sign of water?" asked Ned.

"Positive--sure sign," replied Tavia. "Let's hunt for the spring."

"Too early," answered Nat, "against the game laws. Can't hunt for two whole months yet. Worse luck."

"Well, look for the spring then," Tavia corrected herself. "I fancy I smell watercress--"

"Well, of all the fanciers,--first bluebells mean spring water, then gasoline from our own tank smells like watercress. Now, Octavia Travers, I'll go you," said Nat. "Come and find spring water, bunches of watercress and a salt spring to go with the cress, or you will--walk home."

Tavia answered the challenge by skipping along through the gra.s.sy track, with Nat dragging lazily along at her heels.

"Don't get lost," cautioned Dorothy.

"And don't expect us to watch this food all afternoon," said Ned, as the two disappeared over a bank on the "still hunt" for water and perhaps watercress.

"Tavia knows everything that grows," remarked Dorothy to her cousin, "I think it is so interesting to have a practical knowledge of nature."

"And quite convenient when it comes to lemonade with water," answered the boy. "It's queer Nat is like that too. He always knows things about things when things are shy for a feed. Likely he'll bring back a small-sized patch of the vegetable kingdom."

Meanwhile the explorers were making discoveries at every glade.

"There," called Tavia, triumphantly, "that's a spring. But the announcement came a second too late to save Nat from a foot bath.

"So I have noticed," he declared, trying to shake some of the cold water out of his low cut shoes.

"Oh, that's too bad," Tavia managed to say, although her joy at finding the spring made any regret at the method of its discovery quite out of the question. Being careful of her own footing she made her way along, until the stone basin at the spring source came into view.

"Didn't I tell you?" she shouted. "And there is the watercress!"

She was on her knees now, leaning over like the G.o.ddess who saw her face reflected in the water. Tavia knew the peculiarities of a spring, and knew how to avoid the common penalty of wet feet when getting either cress or a drink "by hand."

"Let me," asked Nat, gallantly, as he saw her stooping over the brink.

"I do want some of the cress," she said.

"So do I," declared the knight. But alas; as he stepped to the brink he went down--down--down--

"Help!" he shouted, merrily, in spite of the second foot bath within a few minutes.

But Nat kept on sinking, until what seemed like a joke soon a.s.sumed a serious aspect.

"Give us a hand," he called to Tavia. "I must have struck quick-sand."

Tavia ran to the side of the pool where the boy was imbedded. He had jumped right in, instead of feeling his way as Tavia had, to make sure of his ground.

"Take my hand," said the girl anxiously, but the effort necessary in reaching toward her only served to make the unfortunate youth sink farther down.

"I guess you'll have to go for help," he admitted finally, the danger of the situation forcing itself upon him.

"But suppose you should go under while I am gone?" faltered Tavia.

"Just pull that tree branch over to me," said Nat, "and I'll cling to that. This must be a glue spring. My, but it has a grip! There goes my shoe."

"I'll run for Ned," cried Tavia, after she had given the boy in the pool a hold on the tree branch, and then she shot across the fields like a deer, leaving Nat to "say his prayers," as he described the situation.