bettina had the little figure stretched out with the head sloping downward and was opening her first aid kit with trembling fingers when the others reached her.
blood was staining the little girl’s camp fire dress and bright crimson sweater.
“get me some water at once, i don’t believe the wound is serious. you can trust me, i am studying surgery.”
bettina was gone for several moments.
on her return she saw that the little victim’s eyes were open and that she was attempting to talk. the wound had proved only a flesh wound and the shot had not lodged in her arm, notwithstanding, their new acquaintance was making a careful investigation.
20
a few feet away mary gilchrist stood, never having moved, or offered a word of apology, or of fear, or remorse. the face was an odd one, animated, filled with color and life; it was charming, yet once the color and animation departed, except for the fine eyes, the face was plain, the features were so irregular, the nose sky tipped, the lips too full, the chin revealing more character than beauty. extremely pale, her expression at present was more sullen than sorrowful.
“let me walk back to camp, i should like it better,” the little girl insisted, when bettina and the stranger had volunteered to carry her. her arm was bound and hung in an improvised sling.
not many yards further on the smoke of a camp fire could be seen in the late afternoon haze.
the small procession walked three abreast with mary gilchrist a few steps behind.
21
“we, too, plan to spend the winter in the adirondacks, with our camp fire club, our guardian and a few relatives and friends,” bettina explained. “we have a beautiful camp on half moon lake, but you will soon see for yourself! the arrangement is a good deal of a surprise. after a summer in england[1] we intended to make a trip through ireland, but after a few weeks found the country so unsettled we decided to sail for home. most of us were really very glad. i was, because i had discovered this little girl in ireland by that time. chitty i told you was a lancashire girl, the daughter of a miner. she lived with us in england and then ran away with her father to ireland, so we never expected to see her again. her name is really elce. chitty is a queer, lancashire word that means a tiny, black kitten and was a title the miners gave her, as their mascot. but the name does not suit; chitty is a blackbird and has a magical voice.”
bettina graham smiled down at the little girl of about twelve years of age, whose uninjured arm was slipped through hers.
“we are now in sight of our camp. see, is it not lovely as i said? the indians call this locality ‘place where the storm clouds met in battle with the great serpent.’ we call our camp, ‘tahawus,’ which means cloud.”
the young man whistled softly.
22
they were descending a low hill, sparsely covered with beeches, poplars and birch trees and a few evergreens, where but the thick growth evidently had been cleared away. the hill led down into a narrow valley, a broad stripe of shining ribbon. in the center lay a lake upon which a motor launch and several row boats were washing softly to and fro. beyond half moon lake rose an extraordinarily high mountain with files of spruce trees stationed like sentinels up and down. over the mountain at this hour showed the first pale glimmer of a crescent moon. about an eighth of a mile from the lake stood a wide, low cabin built of logs with a generous veranda. beside it were two smaller cabins of perhaps only two or three rooms, but connected with the large house by enclosed runways.
in front of one of the smaller houses a camp fire was burning. wreaths of smoke were curling out of the chimney of the central cabin, as in spite of the indian summer days, the autumn nights were cold.
several girls in camp fire costumes were preparing the evening meal over the open fire, while three older women were walking slowly up and down at no great distance away.
23
“you will stay and have dinner with us?” bettina said cordially. “we both are strangers to the life of the woods, yet hospitality is one of its first laws. by the way, i have not told you my name, nor have you told me yours. i am bettina graham, my father is senator graham of washington. my friend is mary gilchrist. gill, won’t you speak for yourself? do come and walk beside us.”
but mary gilchrist made no rejoinder, nor did the newcomer urge her. to bettina his manner if a little abstracted was perfectly courteous, but between him and mary gilchrist the antagonism, born of their meeting, her recent impulsive action had augmented.
“my name is drain, allan drain. i beg your pardon, i did not realize i had not introduced myself. i believe i did tell you i was studying surgery. the choice is not mine, it is what my family wish for me, not what i wish for myself. i want to be a poet, a great poet. i am almost glad my health has broken down so i am forced to spend this winter alone amid the everlasting hills.”
24
bettina felt slightly embarrassed, but need not have concerned herself as she was not in her companion’s thoughts.
entirely self absorbed, he had thrown back his head, showing that his features were strongly marked, his nose prominent, the cheek bones high.
it struck bettina that his star gazing at present was inward and at his own dream of his own star. he seemed a vain and not a practical person. if gill’s estimate of his character were severe, yet it might hold a germ of truth.
“then why do you study surgery?” bettina demanded. “still if one is a poet, a real poet, i do not believe another profession can keep one from fulfilling his gift. one might not write so much poetry, but it might be all the more beautiful.”
her companion shook his head.
25
“no, you are altogether wrong; that is what too many people argue. a poet must live his own life in freedom and among his dreams. but one must eat, for even poets require food. my own people are poor, but i have an uncle who is a distinguished surgeon and, as he has no children, wants me to follow in his footsteps, and is willing to pay for my education. don’t think i do not see the greatness of surgery, but i am entirely unfitted for the profession and the life is too difficult. i don’t like an active existence; perhaps your friend was right: i may prefer to leave the hard tasks to others and only enjoy the results of their effort.”
tahawus camp was now only a few yards away. bettina turned and moved back a few paces to join her friend.
“gill, go to your own room at once if you prefer. i will explain how the accident occurred. of course you had no way of guessing, but it may be painful to have to confess before so large an audience.”
mary gilchrist shook her head.
“no, princess, you are kind as ever, but i must do my own confessing. i feel as if i had no right to continue a member of our camp fire after my behavior, when all my life i have been warned against just such recklessness. why, except for the good fortune i did not deserve, i might have—” but here gill faltered and stopped.
26
she then moved on ahead and bettina saw her pause before the group of older women. a moment after they were listening to her story.
half an hour later bettina joined her in her cabin, in the meantime having introduced the young poet to mrs. burton, the camp fire guardian, to miss patricia lord, and to her own mother.
she discovered gill sitting on the edge of her bed.
“i am to talk over matters with tante in the morning when we can be alone. of course she was very kind. aunt patricia, however, told me what she likes to call the plain truth. bettina, do you think it my duty to leave this fairyland as a punishment for my behavior? perhaps if i remain i shall only get into a worse difficulty! have you ever in your life met anyone you disliked so instinctively that you felt assured the influence over you could only be for evil? you may think me absurd as you like, but the young man we met by accident this afternoon immediately had that effect upon me.
27
“i trust i may never see him again, in fact i mean to make an effort not to see him. i’ll not come to supper, i do not wish for any. you may give him my share. one thing i do know we ought never to be brought into contact with each other, and yet now he is apt to appear at camp at any moment and i shall be responsible, since you would never have been able to discover him had you been alone!”
suddenly gill’s chin went up and her color returned.
“you don’t think i am cruel really, do you, bettina, more so than the other girls? i only shot the game because i heard aunt patricia say mrs. burton required it and there was no chance to buy fresh provisions until the end of the week. however, i don’t believe i shall ever hunt again. perhaps in any case i had best not spend the winter at half moon lake; after all, i may be happier at home! there are in my character certain faults the sunrise camp fire has not yet found out. we were too busy in france to think of ourselves or of each other.”
bettina smiled.
28
“why, gill, what a depressed mood you are in! it is most unlike you. small wonder you do not like our poet if already he has had this influence upon you! by the way, he is having a beautiful time at this moment with tante and mother and i don’t believe will ever trouble any of us. it strikes me that he feels entirely superior to girls and requires an older audience to appreciate him. farewell, of course i’ll bring you your supper. chitty is not suffering in the least and things will adjust themselves in the morning when the poet shall have disappeared and been forgotten.”
“there is no hope of his disappearing,” gill returned disconsolately. “one does not so readily dispose of one’s evil genius.”
however, she joined with bettina’s laughter at her expense.
