Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders in the High Sierras

About them the ground was strewn with boulders from the size of a man’s head up to great spheres of flint-like stone, many as round and glistening as though they had been turned and polished by man.

“Oh, look at the beautiful lake!” cried Nora enthusiastically, pointing to a body of water in the valley far below them. “What is it?”

“It doesn’t appear on my map. I don’t know what it is,” answered Tom.

“Perhaps it is the Aerial Lake that we have been warned against,” suggested Grace.

“I was thinking of that myself,” nodded Tom. “There are trees growing in the lake, but what are those glistening objects farther out?”

“Rocks,” replied Grace, after focusing her binoculars on the shining marks.

“I wonder if I can hit one of them,” said Stacy, picking up a round stone which he sent rolling down the smooth granite slope. The stone shot over a broad, shelving rock, leaped far out into the air, then, after what seemed an interminable time, splashed into the lake. The Overlanders saw a tiny spurt of water as the stone struck the surface of the lake.

“Folks, I’ve got an idea. Greatest thing you ever heard of, too,” cried Hippy.

“Throw it over the cliff,” suggested Emma. “The very best possible use to which you can put your ideas.”

“That is exactly what I am going to do, my dear Emma. Just watch my smoke.”

The Overland Riders were puzzled to know what Hippy had in mind. First, he cut several tough lodge poles, then selecting a boulder half as high as himself, Hippy easily pried it from its resting place with a pole and started it down the slope. The boulder soon began to roll, gaining momentum with the seconds, striking fire as now and then it came into contact with sharp projections of rock.

The boulder finally hit the shelving slabs of granite at the edge of the cliff with a mighty crash and leaped out into the air. The party watched its projectile-like flight with fascinated gaze.

Then came the splash into the lake. The Overlanders did not hear the splash but they saw the water spurt up into the air like a miniature geyser, and fall in a silver shower over a wide area.

“Hurrah!” shouted Stacy, tossing his hat into the air.

Tom Gray was excited, and so were his companions. Stacy Brown was already prying at a boulder with a pole, while Hippy had run to another one and was digging an opening into which to insert his lever, using a flat stone for a fulcrum. Many of the boulders lay resting on the slope and thus were easily thrown out of balance.

“Wait!” cried Elfreda. “We will have a game of bowling.”

“Yes, and the highest one that was ever played,” exclaimed Grace.

“And I’ll be Rip Van Winkle. Show me a soft place to lie down and sleep,” cried Stacy.

“Where are the ninepins?” demanded Emma. “One cannot bowl without having something to bowl at.”

“Use the trees down yonder in the lake,” suggested Hippy. “The one who makes the first score will be free of camp duties for the next twenty-four hours.”

“I won’t play,” declared Chunky. “I know you want to work some sharp game on me.”

“And the one who makes no score at all must do the work for all those who do make scores,” added Elfreda laughingly.

The fat boy sat down stubbornly.

“Go on with your game,” he said.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to play, Honey?” asked Nora.

“No. I’m going to be the umpire,” answered Stacy.

“As you please,” laughed Hippy. “You will have to do the chores anyway. Folks, I am going to try to hit the third tree to the left of that group of rocks near the middle of the lake. Now watch me.”

Hippy started a rock, which he had selected with great care. It boomed over the ledge, observed in breathless silence by the spectators, then hurtled far out over the lake, finally smashing into the blue waters, throwing spray high in the air.

“A miss!” shouted the Overlanders.

“He missed it by half a mile,” jeered the umpire. “Why don’t you change your sights? You are shooting over the mark.”

Tom took the next try. He balanced his rock, after having pried it loose, and made it ready for the fall, and sent it crashing along on its way. As nearly as the eye could measure, Tom’s boulder fell some twenty rods to the right of the tree aimed at. Tom then made ready a boulder for Grace. She failed to hit the lake, and derisive howls greeted her effort. Elfreda and Nora did a little better than that. Both hit the lake, but nowhere near the mark they had aimed at.

Stacy got up slowly and yawned.

“You folks make me tired. You ought to go to night school and learn how to roll stones. Why, even our little transmigrating Emma could beat you sharps at throwing stones. Emma, will you roll if I fix a boulder for you?” questioned Stacy.

“Yes, if you promise not to play tricks on me.”

Stacy winked at Emma and nodded sideways to the others, as indicating that the trick was to be played on them, then snatching up his pole he ran to a boulder that he had some time since selected for his own.

After prying the rock into proper position, squinting and sighting and surveying the rock from all sides, he nodded to Emma and offered the pole to her.

“Take it easy. If you can’t move the rock I’ll lend you a hand,” whispered Stacy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are now about to witness one of Emma Dean’s most notable transmigration feats. Keep your eyes on the performer and you will see that she has nothing up her sleeve – nor under her hat,” announced Hippy Wingate.

“Tip it over!” commanded Stacy, throwing his weight on the pole with Emma. “Watch the two twin-trees down there, but look sharply or you won’t see them when they disappear from the face of the earth,” he warned, strolling back towards his companions.

Emma’s boulder, not being quite round, moved very slowly at first, and once it threatened to stop altogether and go no further, but finally, gaining new impetus, it started savagely on its way to the ledge, where it did a clumsy hop into the air, then dived for the lake.

“It is going to hit the lake!” cried Grace.

“What did you think we were trying to hit?” demanded Stacy. “If it is a hit – if little Emma makes a killing, I did it. If she misses, she did it.”

“It’s a hit!” yelled Lieutenant Wingate.

“You don’t say?” wondered Stacy, turning quickly, the most amazed member of the Overland party.

Cheers greeted the achievement as two trees standing side by side in the lake disappeared as if by magic. Stacy threw out his chest and paraded back and forth with folded arms, an expression of dignified superiority on his face.

“I don’t have to work for a whole week,” observed Stacy.

“Oh, yes you do,” answered Elfreda. “You know you weren’t in the game – you are only the umpire. Further, Emma won the roll, and will have a vacation until to-morrow afternoon.”

“There goes my Hippy’s roll!” cried Nora, and for the moment attention was centered on Lieutenant Wingate’s rolling boulder. It made a clean hit, knocking down a tree close to the water.

“The racket must be terrific down there,” said Grace. “Hippy, you surely raised a disturbance with that last shot.”

Tom tried once more and sent a boulder into the lake. The Overlanders plainly heard the impact, and could see a shower of broken rock being distributed over the surface of the lake.

Suddenly a new sound smote the ears of the Overland Riders, a familiar sound that they had heard many times in France and on their journeys in their own land.

“What’s that?” demanded Stacy.

“That?” answered Hippy. “Why, that is a butterfly lullaby. You surely ought to know that sound by this time.”

“Woo, woo, woo!” was the sound that smote their ears again.

“Down, all of you! We’re under fire!” shouted Tom Gray.

CHAPTER XX

LEAD AND MYSTERY IN THE AIR

“Are – are we attacked?” wailed Emma Dean.

“Bullets are coming from somewhere, that is certain,” answered Hippy, raising his head from the ground on which he, as well as his companions, had thrown themselves at the first shot.

Following the last two shots, the reports of rifles were distinctly heard by each member of the party, and each pair of eyes was straining to locate the source of the shooting.

“Oh, it must be a mistake,” cried Emma.

“That doesn’t help us any,” replied Tom Gray. “But I do wish we had our rifles.”

“Don’t wolly till to-mollow,” advised Stacy.

Hippy raised himself to a sitting position and waved his handkerchief.

“Woo, woo, woo! – Bang!”

Hippy threw himself over backwards, his feet kicking up into the air, his attitude being so funny that the Overlanders laughed heartily. Their laughter, however, quickly subsided, when they recalled that the last shot had passed very close to them.

Tom Gray had been listening to the whistle of the bullets and to the reports that followed, and the result of his listening and looking was the conclusion that the shooters were getting the range, and that, undoubtedly, smokeless powder was being used.

“I don’t care whether they see me or not,” exclaimed Hippy, getting to his feet, but no sooner had he done so than a bullet whistled so close to him that, as he declared later, he felt the hot breath of it on his cheek.

“Did you see that?” he cried, throwing himself on the ground.

“No. I didn’t see it. I may have sharp eyes, but they aren’t sharp enough to see a bullet on the wing,” retorted Stacy.

“What I cannot understand is, why they are shooting at us,” wondered Elfreda.

“Perhaps they think we have been throwing stones at them,” suggested Emma.

“Rolling stones gather no moss,” interjected Stacy. “Possibly, however, our rolling stones came near gathering in some parties down in the valley, and they are retaliating by shooting at us.”

“Girls! Let’s get out of here,” cried Grace, springing up. “I am weary of hiding.”

“Get down!” shouted several voices.

Grace gave no heed to the command, nor to the bullet that sang over her head, but when one barely grazed her cheek, she decided that she was quite ready to join her companions on the ground again.

“Are we going to lie here all day and let those ruffians shoot at us?” demanded Emma.

“The only other alternative is to crawl away,” answered Tom.

“Crawl where?” questioned Grace.

“To that ridge to the right of us.”

“I’m blest if I do!” retorted Hippy, getting up and walking deliberately towards the rocks indicated by Tom Gray.

The others, with the exception of Stacy Brown, not to be outdone in courage by Lieutenant Wingate, got up and followed him, not hurriedly, but walking slowly, keeping some distance between them, and in this way finally reaching the ridge and safety. Several shots were fired at them on the way, but all went wide of the mark.

“Where is Stacy? Quick! Maybe he has been hit,” urged Nora almost hysterically.

Grace sprang back and peered around the corner of the rocks.

“Oh, girls! Look at him, will you?” she cried.

Leaning as far out from the rocks as they dared, the Overlanders discovered the missing Chunky. He was flat on the ground on his stomach, wriggling along in a fair imitation of a serpent.

“Get up and walk, you tenderfoot!” laughed Hippy. “What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing. I just happened to think how, when I was a baby, I used to creep to the pantry to pick up crumbs, so I thought I’d see if I had forgotten how,” answered Stacy.

“You are a fine hero, aren’t you?” observed Emma sarcastically, when Stacy, having finally reached the protection of the rocks, got up and brushed the dirt from his clothes.

“No. All the heroes are dead. I don’t want to be a hero. What’s the news from the front?”

“Impossible!” muttered Tom, laughing in spite of himself. Tom had been pondering, wondering, trying to account satisfactorily to himself for this attempt on their lives.

“What do you make of it?” asked Elfreda, nodding at him.

“It may have been accidental,” he replied.

Grace shook her head.

“No, they were shooting at us,” declared Hippy.

“I have been wondering, thinking about what Mr. Giddings told us at the ‘Lazy J’ ranch,” said Miss Briggs. “You remember what he said about the mysterious Aerial Lake, don’t you?”

“It is my opinion that we have been bombarding that very same lake,” declared Grace. “That, however, does not explain the shots.”

“Perhaps not,” returned Elfreda, “but it does go a long way towards proving that there is something in what the foreman of the ‘Lazy J’ told us. I, for one, am in favor of giving that lake a wide berth.”

“No, no,” protested Hippy and Grace. “Let’s find out what the mystery is,” added Grace.

“I’ll stay back and watch the horses while you are gone,” offered Stacy.

“Back to camp for us, now. To-morrow we shall decide what is best to be done,” advised Tom.

Having reached the safe side of the mountain, the party took a direct course for their camp, which was located close to what they had named “Bear Mountain,” because its top strongly resembled an ambling bear. They found pretty rough going until they reached a point about a mile from the camp, and there Tom suggested that they move more cautiously, and not blunder into camp, not knowing what they might find there.

They had approached within sight of their camp when Hippy halted and beckoned his companions to him.

“What is it?” questioned Tom.

For answer, Hippy pointed to a jutting rock which they knew lay just back of the camp itself. There, outlined on the rock, was a figure. It did not require very keen eyes to recognize the figure, even at that distance.

“Woo! Thank goodness,” exclaimed Miss Briggs.

“I’ll give him a yell,” volunteered Stacy.

“No, no!” protested Grace. There was that in the attitude of the Chinaman that appealed to Grace’s bump of caution. “Wait until he sees us,” she counseled. “Trust Woo to shout, unless there be good reason why he should not.”

The party moved on cautiously, thus far well screened by foliage, but the instant they appeared in the open, the guide saw them and began excitedly waving his arms.

“Do you see?” nodded Grace.

“He does seem to be excited about something,” agreed Tom.

“If there is likely to be trouble, perhaps I had better fall back as sort of reserve,” suggested Stacy. “In case of trouble it is a wise plan to have reserves, you know.”

No one paid the slightest attention to Stacy’s suggestion, nor did they increase their pace, not wishing to show that they shared the excitement of the guide, though there was a suspicion in their minds as to the cause of that excitement.

As they drew nearer, Woo Smith clambered down from his perch and trotted out to meet them. His face expressed neither pleasure nor alarm.

“Good-afternoon, Mr. Smith,” greeted Emma with dignity.

“Are the ponies all safe?” smiled Grace.

“Him velly good.”

“Then what are you stewing about?” blurted out Stacy Brown.

“Anything wrong, Smith?” asked Tom Gray anxiously.

“Les. Bang, bang!”

“You mean bing, bing, don’t you?” cut in Stacy.

“Me savvy bang, bang!” returned the guide.

“Oh, let it go at that,” urged Hippy. “It doesn’t make much difference either way, whether it is ‘bang, bang’ or ‘bing, bing’!”

“Me savvy boom, boom, too,” added Woo.

“No, no. You mean bang, bang!” insisted Chunky.

“For goodness sake, give the poor fellow a chance,” begged Elfreda laughingly. “You will get him so befuddled that he will not know what he means. Woo, what is the trouble? Have you seen strangers about?”

The guide’s queue bobbed vigorously, as he pointed to a ridge on the other side of the canyon.

“Me savvy man there. Me savvy boom, boom! Bang, bang!”

Grace’s face lighted up.

“We understand, Woo. You heard guns and you saw a man over there,” she nodded. “Did the man see you?”

The Chinaman shook his head.

“Do you think he discovered the camp?” asked Tom Gray.

Woo shook his head again.

“He heard the boom of our bowling game and the shots following. That seems quite clear, but there appears to be no reason why we should be excited about it,” said Lieutenant Wingate.

Grace said she did not agree with him.

“What the guide says, indicates to me that the stranger was not only seeking to wing us, but that he was looking for our camp. Was that all you saw, Woo?”

“No. Me savvy woman.”

“What’s that?” demanded Hippy sharply.

The Overlanders’ interest was aroused anew.

“Me savvy woman. Woman come close and peek. Woman see camp, then go ’way. Br-r-r! Big piecee woman make ugly face!”

“Discovered!” exclaimed Hippy Wingate dramatically.

CHAPTER XXI

THE FACE IN THE WATERS

“A woman!” breathed Miss Briggs.

“You must be mistaken,” differed Nora.

“What did she look like?” questioned Grace.

“Me savvy no good,” answered Woo with an emphasis that drew a laugh from the Overland Riders.

“How strange,” murmured Emma. “What could a woman be doing in this awful country?”

“Perhaps she lives here,” suggested Elfreda. “I should not be surprised at anything in the High Sierras.”

“Show me where she was when you saw her,” requested Tom Gray.

Woo led him to a huge boulder, about a hundred yards from the camp.

“Me savvy piecee woman peek ovel locks,” said the guide.

“A woman peeked over the rocks there. Is that it?” asked Elfreda, the entire party having followed Woo out to the scene of his discovery.

“Les.”

“What did she do then?” persisted Tom.

“Him go ’way plenty quick.”

Grace and Hippy hurried forward and began examining the ground, but found no trace, no footprints, nothing that would indicate that a person had been there.

“Woo, it is my opinion that you went to sleep and had nightmare,” declared Hippy laughingly. “No one has been here. See! She would have left footprints at least.”

“Piecee woman go ’way,” insisted Woo.

“Don’t wolly till to-mollow,” imitated Stacy Brown. “Woo, got anything loose about the house? I’ve been living on pink snow for so long that I feel like a snowbird in distress. Food is what my system demands.”

“A bird, did you say?” questioned Emma. “I agree with you that you are something of a bird, but not of the snowbird species.”

Grace was the only one of the party who believed that their guide really had seen a human being spying on the camp. The others, after some discussion, dismissed the matter from mind, and devoted their attention to the supper which Woo had prepared and served. A much more comfortable night was spent in this lower altitude, and, with the rising of the sun, the Overlanders prepared to resume their journey.

The party was still at a considerable elevation above the lake, which had sunk out of sight as if it had never existed, due to the fact that huge granite shelves intervened between them and the mysterious water. They judged that the lake must lie at an elevation of close to eight thousand feet above sea level.

“I smell something,” exclaimed Hippy as they were dismounting for luncheon and a rest that day.

“So do I,” agreed Stacy Brown. “Someone is baking bread and using salt yeast. Lead me to it, quick!”

“What you smell is a dead campfire,” Tom Gray informed the fat boy. “Unless I am greatly mistaken, the fire has not been out long, either. Come on, folks, help me to find it. It may give us some information that we need.”

By proceeding against the gentle breeze that was blowing they were enabled, after considerable searching about, to locate the dead campfire.

“Here it is!” cried Tom, scraping aside a cover of leaves and grass that had been spread over the ashes to hide the tell-tale evidence. “See! The embers have been kicked aside and water poured over them. It is the water poured on the fire that produces the strong odor that we smell.”

“How long ago was that done, do you think?” asked Hippy.

“Several hours ago, I should say.”

Hippy made a circuit of the camp site that they had come upon, and returning, announced that he had made a further discovery – the spot at which horses had been turned loose.

“There appears to have been four of them, though I cannot be positive about that,” he said. “I merely saw the footprints of four animals as they started on their way northward.”

“But suppose they are looking for us?” exclaimed Miss Briggs. “If they are headed north they are headed towards the place where we were fired upon, are they not?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” laughed Hippy. “They have a nice, long, rough journey ahead of them. We seem to have missed each other very cleverly. However, they may be nothing more than an exploring party, and we have been so stirred up over what we have heard of the High Country that every little thing takes on an importance that doesn’t belong to it.”

“I wish I could make a long speech like that and get away with it,” observed Stacy admiringly.

“Young man, you say altogether too much as it is,” retorted Tom Gray. “I think that perhaps it might be well for us to take an inventory of our surroundings, as well as of what lies immediately ahead of us, before we start out,” he added.

Hippy volunteered to do a little scouting, and Grace said she would accompany him, as anything of that sort appealed to her, so they set out together, but soon separated and took different courses.

Grace first of all sought a high point from which she obtained a very good view of the surrounding country, but saw nothing of a disturbing nature. A deer stood outlined on a shelf of rock a few hundred feet above and to the south of her; a bear ambled across an open space, zigzagging his way down. Bears do not like to go straight down a hill or mountain-side. The fact that their front legs are shorter than the hind legs makes going straight down a steep incline difficult, so, unless pursued, they ordinarily follow the switchback principle, zigzagging along until they reach the bottom.

The Overland girl watched the ambling beast with interest until it finally disappeared. She had no doubt that it was descending to the valley in search of food, lured there, perhaps, by the scent of an abandoned camp. Except for these two animals, she was unable to discover any sign of life, nor was there a wisp of smoke within her vision that might indicate the presence of human beings.

While Grace was making a general observation of the landscape, Lieutenant Wingate was endeavoring to follow the trail of the unknown horsemen to determine, as definitely as possible, the direction that they had taken. Their trail, which he followed for nearly a mile, still continued towards the peak, and it was his belief that that was their destination, or at least some other near-by point where they might hope to meet up with the Overland party.

Hippy pondered over this, and found himself wondering what the motive of the horsemen might be. Still pondering, he began retracing his steps to meet Grace at a point decided upon before they started away on separate trails.

Lieutenant Wingate was cautiously making his way through a thick growth of bushes, watching his step and listening for the familiar whirring warning of a rattler, when a sudden interruption occurred, an interruption that caused Hippy to throw himself on the ground, and lie still.

The interruption was a bullet, a bullet that clipped his hat, nipping a piece out of the brim, and giving the Overlander a scare. At first he thought the shot might have been fired by one of his own party, and was about to call out a warning, but changed his mind and began wriggling away from the scene. He had, by this time, forgotten all about the snake peril, his one burning desire being to get as far away from that locality as possible in the shortest possible time.

Hippy found it slow going, because he twisted and turned so much, following as crooked a trail as he could lay out for himself, for the purpose of confusing the author of that shot, should the fellow decide to follow him.

Suddenly Hippy thought of Grace. She, too, might be in peril. His first inclination was to get up and run to their rendezvous, but upon second thought he came to the conclusion that it would be wiser to make an effort to discover the one who had shot at him. With this in view, Lieutenant Wingate began making a detour with the intention of coming up behind the shooter, Hippy having a good general idea of the position occupied by the man at the time the shot was fired.