Part 24 (1/2)
Douglas came in, white and scared. Lewis had broken the news to her as gently as possible, but the sound of snake bite was a terrible one to her young ears. She, too, remembered old Uncle Snake-bit Peter and his withered limb.
”Helen, Helen!” she cried and burst into tears.
”Why, Douglas, buck up! Dr. Wright says I am doing splendidly and there is nothing to fear. He did everything that could be done, and because he was right on the spot, it was attended to so quickly that the poison could not get into my system. I feel fine, and mean to be up a great deal sooner than I would if it had been just a common sprain. We must keep it dark, though, and not let a soul know it is anything but what they think it is.”
Douglas was rea.s.sured by the calm confidence of the doctor and relieved, indeed, to see that Helen was meaning to obey him in everything.
”She had better stay perfectly quiet for several days just to be sure, and I will treat the poor heel where I had to cauterize it. That will, of course, be sore for a while.”
”All right,” said Helen with unaccustomed meekness, ”but I did think I might get up to-morrow. But I'll be good as I want to get well, perfectly well, so I can go to the Devil's Gorge again and get the wallet.”
”But would you venture there again?”
”Certainly! But next time I'll wear high shoes and leggins and look where I step. I think I deserve some of Aunt Mandy's black snake whip as a punishment. I do wish I knew what was in that wallet--if it was a wallet.”
The doctor smiled and left the tent to the sisters, who clung to each other with all the affection they had. They realized what they meant to one another more than they ever had before, now that this thing had occurred that might have proved very serious.
”We mustn't let a soul know what the trouble is, Douglas. Of course, you realize it would send our week-end boarders anywhere but to the mountains.”
”Yes, I see it would, just the way they all talk about snakes. I tell you one thing, though--we must make leggins obligatory for hikers. Maybe it would be well to order a few extra pair when we order the blankets for those persons, like Tillie Wingo, who will not do what they are told.”
”I believe so, too. And now, honey, please get Gwen to bring me something very simple for my supper. I believe I'll join the bread and milk club to-night and not try to eat anything heavy. I feel so sleepy I can hardly keep my eyes open. I do hope I am not going to dream about snakes. I'd sleep better if I only knew what was in the wallet I saw hanging in the tree.”
CHAPTER XIX
THE QUEST.
Perhaps Helen might have slept better had she known what was in the wallet, but it would have been difficult. Dr. Wright, accompanied by Douglas, crept silently into the tent just before the camp broke up for the night and found her pulse absolutely normal. His patient was sleeping so peacefully that he sought his hammock thoroughly contented with the treatment he had administered in the first case of snake bite that he had met in his practice.
Dawn was in the neighborhood of four o'clock. It was so still it seemed impossible that thirty persons were camping on that mountain side. The night noises had ceased. Katy-dids and tree-frogs, who had been making as much clatter as though they had been getting out a morning paper, had gone home to rest until it should be time to commence on the next edition.
This lull between night and morning lasted only a few moments and then there was ”the earliest pipe of half-awakened birds.” At the first sleepy note, Dr. Wright stirred in the hammock which he had stretched tightly between two giant pines a little way from the camp. He had told himself he was to awake at dawn, and now that he had done it, what was it all about? He lay still for a few moments drowsily drinking in the beauties of the dawn. A mocking bird had const.i.tuted himself waker-up of the bird kingdom since he could speak all languages. He now began to call the different bird notes and was sleepily answered from bush and tree. When he felt that a sufficient number was awake to make it worth his while, he burst into a great hymn of praise and thanksgiving; at least that was what it seemed to the young doctor, the only human being awake on that mountain side.
”I'd like to join you, old fellow, I'm so thankful that Helen is safe,”
and then he remembered why he had set himself the task of waking at dawn.
He slid from his hammock and in a short while was taking the trail of the day before, back to the Devil's Gorge. It seemed but a short walk to the athletic young man as he swung his long legs, delighting in the exercise. He reached the gorge in much less than half the time it had taken the hikers of yesterday.
The morning light was clear and luminous but the gorge was as gruesome as ever. Sun light never penetrated its gloom, and Dr. Wright noticed that no birds seemed to sing there. He let himself carefully down the cliff, practicing what he had preached and looking where he stepped. In the exact spot where Helen had jumped, he saw a snake coiled as though waiting for another pretty little gray shoe to come his way.
”It may not be the same snake,” muttered the young man, ”but I am going to presume it is and kill him if I can.”
He was standing on the ledge where Helen had been when she called to Lewis Somerville, just before the fatal leap. The wallet was in plain view, caught in a crotch of the scrub oak, and the hateful snake was curled up directly under the tree as though put there by some evil magician to guard a secret treasure.
”You needn't look at me with your wicked eyes. I am going to kill you if I can, and why, I don't know, because I believe in a way you have done me a pretty good turn. Helen trusts me now, at least!”
He raised a great bowlder over his head and with a sure aim hurled it down on the serpent, who was even then making his strange rattle like dry leaves in the wind.
”That was your swan song, old boy,” and so it was. The snake was crushed by the blow, only his tail sticking out, twitching feebly, the rattle vibrating slowly, making a faint lonesome sound.