Part 15 (1/2)
The girls had to cross the stone wall to get at the spring, and they did not remember that in doing so they were ”out of bounds.” Bob had said nothing about the spring being on the Caslon side of the boundary.
Once beside the brook, Helen must needs explore farther. There were lovely trees and flowering bushes, and wild strawberries in a small meadow that lured the two girls on. They were a long way from the stone fence when, of a sudden, a cras.h.i.+ng in the bushes behind them brought both Ruth and Helen to their feet.
”My! what's that?” demanded Helen.
”Sounds like some animal.”
Ruth's remark was not finished.
”The goat! it's the old billy!” sang out Helen, and turned to run as the horned head of the bewhiskered leader of the Angora herd came suddenly into view.
CHAPTER XII-A NUMBER OF INTRODUCTIONS
”We must run, Ruthie!” Helen declared, instantly. ”Now, there's no use in our trying to face down that goat. Discretion is the better part of valor-- Oh!”
The goat just then shook his horns and charged. Ruth was not much behind her chum. She saw before Helen, however, that they were running right away from the Steele premises.
”We're getting deeper and deeper into trouble, Helen,” she panted.
”Don't you _see?_”
”I can't see much. Oh! there's a tree we can both climb, I am sure.”
”But I don't want to climb a tree,” objected Ruth.
”All right. You stay down and play tag with Mr. Billy Goat. Me for the high and lofty!” and she sprang up as she spoke and clutched the low limb of a widely branching cedar.
”I'll never leave my pal!” Ruth declared, giggling, and jumping for another limb.
Both girls had practiced on the ladders in the school gymnasium and they quickly swung themselves up into the tree. The goat arrived almost on the instant, too. At once he leaped up with his fore-feet against the bole of the tree.
”My goodness me!” gasped Helen. ”He's going to climb it, too.”
”You know goats _can_ climb. They're very sure-footed,” said her chum.
”I know all that,” admitted Helen. ”But I didn't suppose they could climb trees.”
The goat gave up _that_ attempt, however, very soon. He had no idea, it seemed, of going away and leaving his treed victims in peace.
He paced around and around the cedar, casting wicked glances at the girls' dangling feet, and shaking his horns in a most threatening way.
What he would do to them if he got a chance would ”be a-plenty,” Helen declared.
”Don't you suppose he'll get tired, bye and bye?” queried her chum, despondently.
”He doesn't look as though he ever got wearied,” returned Helen. ”What a savage looking beast he is! And such whiskers!”
”I wouldn't make fun of him,” advised Ruth, timidly. ”I believe he understands-and it makes him madder! Oh! see him!”
Mr. Goat, impatient of the delay, suddenly charged the tree and banged against it with his horns in a desperate attempt to jar down the girls perched above.