Chapter XII: Tommy Falls Out of Bed
The night was far spent, and the air at their altitude was crisp and chill. Below them a fog had settled over the canyons and gullies, blotting the landscape entirely from the sight of any one above the mist line. But, though there was no moon, objects could be made out with reasonable distinctness on Sokoki Leap, where the girls, their guardian and the guide were sleeping more or less soundly. Toward morning, however, Tommy awoke with a start. She twitched and jerked, rolled herself into a ball, straightened out again and twisted and turned, wide awake and nervous. Her rope being long, the guide was not disturbed--at least, not then.
An owl hooted high in a ledge above their camping place. It hooted three times. Tommy rose, throwing off her blanket. She stood shivering in her kimono, for the air had grown chilly, undecided whether to awaken the camp or lie down again. Finally she sank down and rolled over and over in her blanket, this time determined to wrap up so snugly that the cold could not reach her.
Then came the interruption, starting with a scream so terrifying as to awaken every member of the party and to frighten the owl into sudden silence. Shouts were heard from all sides. The girls began struggling to free themselves from their blankets. To do this some of them rolled toward the guide, others from him, according to the way they had rolled themselves in their blankets before going to sleep. Harriet was the first to free herself from the folds of the gray blanket that enveloped her. She leaped to her feet, crying out, "What is the matter now?"
A strange sight met her gaze. Janus was sliding over the shelf, half rolling, half slipping, in a mysterious fashion. At the same time the others of the party were performing strangely, getting up, falling down, as, entangled in their blankets, they staggered dangerously near the edge of the rocky shelf, apparently unmindful of their peril.
"Catch me! Jump on the rope!" yelled the guide.
Harriet's quick eyes, now wide open, caught the significance of the scene. Without an instant's hesitation she sprang toward Janus, fairly hurling herself upon him. One hand grabbed a taut rope that was straining with some heavy weight pulling on it at the other end.
Janus sat up as the girl threw her own weight on the line to assist in holding it until the guide should have recovered himself.
"Oh, what has happened?" cried the guardian.
"Some one is over the edge," answered Harriet almost breathlessly. "Quick! Find out who it is."
"It's Tommy!" screamed Margery Brown.
Miss Elting sprang toward the edge of the shelf.
"Stop!" thundered the guide. "Careful! Don't rush. Take it easy. All the rest of you stay back. You go cautiously to the edge, Miss Elting, and find out just what shape she's in."
Grubb gave his commands in a quick, business-like tone; at the same time he removed his belt and unfastened the girls' ropes.
Margery began to scream again. Jane grasped and shook her.
"Stop that! Tommy's doing enough howling for the whole party," she exclaimed.
Tommy's cries were all-sufficient--heart-rending, in fact. Harriet motioned to Jane to come and assist in holding the rope. Jane responded promptly.
"May I go and help?" questioned Harriet eagerly.
"Yes. It's a good idea. Keep her quiet if you can," urged Miss Elting. "She is likely to saw the rope in two at the rate she is floundering about. I hope her belt is strong enough to hold."
"Oh my stars, what a mess!" groaned Jane McCarthy.
"It's worse than that," answered Janus, but he did not explain just what danger threatened the screaming little girl.
Harriet turned the rope over to her companion and hurried to the edge of the shelf, where she stretched herself on the rock with her head protruding over. What she saw was an object that resembled a great spider suspended from a silken thread. The spider was dangling in the air, with arms and legs working frantically. The poor little spider, in this instance Tommy Thompson, was slowly turning from side to side, clawing frantically at the smooth side of the mountain when her hands got into position where she could touch it. Miss Elting was trying to soothe her. Harriet adopted a different policy.
"Tommy!" she cried sharply.
"Oh, thave me! Thave me!" wailed the little tow-headed girl.
"Do you want to drop clear to the bottom?" demanded Harriet.
"No, oh, no! Thave me! I'll be good. I'll--"
"You'll be down there in a heap if you don't stop struggling. Listen to me! Are you going to stop that screaming and do something for yourself, or are we to let you hang there until to-morrow morning?" continued Harriet.
"Yeth, oh, yeth! I'll be good. I'll do whatever you tell me. But thave me. Pleathe thave me!" sobbed the unhappy little Tommy.
"Stop clawing. Let your body hang limp. Don't make a move, and keep quiet. You confuse us. Remember, if you struggle you are likely to pull us over with you. I am going to get something; then I shall try to pull you up. Hazel and Margery, stay close to Miss Elting. Miss Elting, will you look after them while I go to hunt a stick?"'
"Come over here by me, girls," commanded the guardian in response to the request. "Now, stand perfectly still. Tommy's life may depend upon your doing only what you are told. A Meadow-Brook Girl is a sort of soldier, and a soldier is not a good soldier unless he can take and obey orders."
Hazel was trembling a little, Margery a great deal, but the words of the guardian served to quiet and steady both girls.
Harriet came running toward them, carrying a round stick, a piece from a small sapling that the guide had picked up for firewood. This she cautiously slipped under the rope at the edge of the shelf, prying the rope up a little in order to do so, thus sending Tommy into a fresh outburst of terror when she felt the added movement of the rope.
"Miss Elting, I think you had better manage the stick. You are not likely to lose your presence of mind. Hazel and Margery may help me pull Tommy up. Be sure not to let the rope drag over the sharp edge of the stone, or we may lose her."
Margery indulged in a fresh attack of shivering. Hazel gripped her arm, whispering, "Brace up, dear!"
"Oh, I can--n't," sobbed Margery. "My knees won't hold me up."
"Now, girls," called Harriet cheerily, "take hold of the rope, but be gentle about it. Remember, a sharp jolt might be a serious thing for Tommy. It might jerk Miss Elting over, too, so be very careful. Now, Tommy, we are going to pull you up. Don't reach for the rock. It won't help you any to do so. Just hang limp. Try to imagine that you are a bag of meal and we are pulling you up for the muffins to-morrow morning."
"Oh, I can't laugh," wailed Tommy.
"Then cry, if you wish, but don't make a noise doing it. Shed all the tears you wish to, but let them be silent tears. Now then!"
Harriet stepped back, taking firm hold of the rope. She was near the edge of the shelf, Hazel directly behind her, with Margery still farther back.
"When you are ready, Miss Elting! Let us know when you wish a fresh hold." Harriet was perfectly calm outwardly.
"Ready!"
"All together! One, two, three--pull! Steady; not so violently. This is a small rope, and----"
"Whoa!" interjected the guardian sharply.
"We are taking up the slack back here. Good work for you girls," encouraged the guide.
"What is it? Oh, what is it?" screamed Tommy.
"Stop that noise!" commanded Harriet. "Everything is all right!"
"Ready again," commanded Miss Elting. "One, two, three--pull!"
Tommy came up about a foot this time. Her progress was slow, but it was, at least, sure.
Jane and the guide were acting as anchors, at the same time assisting in pulling on the line, holding down when the pauses came.
After every pull Miss Elting would call a halt while she worked the round stick down over the edge of the rock to keep the rope from being unduly worn. In this way Tommy came up little by little, now and then uttering a sharp scream at some unexpected jolt. Once, when the rope slipped from the round stick, Tommy felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, but pluckily recovered herself. She clenched her fists until the nails almost cut into the flesh of her hands, and all the time she was wondering if the belt that seemed to be cutting her in two would hold or break. Those on the ledge above were wondering much the same thing. They were operating with extreme caution for that very reason.
"You are almost up to us, Tommy," encouraged the guardian. "Be very careful. Make no sudden moves. Don't try to take hold of the edge when we get you level with it. We shall have to pull you over the last two or three feet by taking hold of you. Then we will have something to be thankful for, won't we?"
"Yeth," wailed a weak voice from over the side.
"Ready!"
This time Tommy came up so close that the guardian was able to touch her. Miss Elting leaned over and patted Tommy on the shoulder reassuringly.
"One more long, strong pull and we shall have you within a little way of safety. Girls, are you ready for the last pull?"
Margery was breathing heavily, Hazel, too, was taking short, excited breaths.
"Yes, when you are ready," answered Hazel. "Get ready back there, ready to hold fast after the last pull. Don't give way the fraction of an inch," called Harriet. "This is like things I have read about Alpine climbing, except that I guess they don't pull them up dangling in this fashion."
"Pull!" called the guardian. "Steadily and slowly this time."
The girls were breathing heavily now.
"Stop!"
"Oh, am I up?" wailed the little, lisping girl.
"Yes. Now be perfectly quiet. Harriet, can you help me?"
"Yes. All hold fast. I am going to let go. Step back a little farther, girls. There!"
"We have it," shouted Janus.
"We have," cried Crazy Jane.
Harriet stepped forward.
"Hold up your arm, Tommy," directed the guardian. "You take that arm, Harriet. Now one foot, Tommy. I'll take that. Don't move about any more than you can help. Wait! Her arm first. Have you got it, Harriet?"
"Yes."
Snap! Tommy uttered a wild scream of terror. Miss Elting was reaching for the upraised foot.
Tommy's belt gave way when her foot was almost within the guardian's grasp, and her slender body shot downward.
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The Meadow-Brook Girls in the Hills; Or, The Missing Pilot of the White MountainsChapter XII: Tommy Falls Out of Bed
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