IT MUST HAVE BEEN ten days later that we happened on Suzanne. We had been moving about with Susie on the trailer, camping here and there, and we found her quite by accident.
We had drawn into a grove beside a lake to make camp when we heard a ukelele at a short distance, and a girl singing. Tish motioned us to be quiet, and when we had made our way through the trees we came in sight of her. She was not alone, and just as we got within earshot a male voice said:
“It’s a great place to see the stars. Look, there’s the Dipper.”
We knew then that it was Suzanne, and she certainly was not alone. There was one ranger setting up her tent and another one washing her dishes. She herself looked very pretty and fresh, sitting on a robe from her car.
“There’s one thing I’ll say for you western men,” she said. “You can do everything, from washing dishes to firing a gun. When I think of the men I know back home, sitting around clubs or playing golf, it makes me sick.”
“It’s sure the life, little girl.”
She sighed and looked pensive.
“When I think that I have to go back to that,” she said. “I who adore the open and the stars! Picture me at balls this next winter! I who so love the wild, and the creatures of the wild. The big shaggy buffaloes, the gentle deer, the cunning friendly bears.”
Just at that instant Susie walked into the clearing toward her, and she let out the most awful yell.
“It’s a bear!” she screamed. “It’s coming at me! Shoot it, somebody.”
As we retired from the spot Tish’s indignation was extreme.
“The little fool,” she said furiously. “What a man like Mr. Armstrong can see in a girl like that is beyond me. She needs a lesson, that’s what she needs. Camping! I’ll bet somebody else has cooked every slice of bacon for her since she got here. What she needs—”
She did not complete the sentence, but remained in deep thought during the remainder of the evening.
The next day was a repetition of that evening. The rangers being presumably occupied, two young men in plus fours did Suzanne’s camp work and listened to her ukulele, and in the evening three rangers came. As she was a very pretty girl, probably this was to be expected, but Tish resented it with what in anyone less broad of mind would have been sulkiness. She did not fish that day, but remained in camp, and late that night I wakened to see Susie tied to a tree, an unusual procedure, and Tish poring by the firelight over what appeared to be a map.
As I was weary I slept heavily and was only roused by Aggie bending over me and shaking me.
“She’s gode!” she said, excitement always causing her an acute coryza. “Tish’s gode and she’s left a dote. Oh, Lizzie, there’s sobethig wrog. Sobethig terribly wrog.”
The note told us very little. Tish had found it expedient to go to the cabin—an isolated spot in a remote corner of the park where we had once spent two days—and would meet us there later in the day at the crossroads. “Bring Susie,” she wrote. “Also some canned beans and half a dozen packages of marshmallows. But do not come to the cabin. Stop at the crossroads.”
“Stop at the crossroads!” Aggie said indignantly. “I’be stoppig right here. If she thigks I’be goig to walk fifty biles draggig that bear by the had she can thigk agaid.”
It was not necessary to walk, however, as we found that Tish had not taken the car. Our bewilderment was extreme, but there was nothing to do but obey. I can drive a little, and so we proceeded to break camp and prepare to depart. Here a most untoward incident occurred, probably due to my preoccupation. In attempting to start I unluckily put the car into reverse, and to my horror we backed rapidly down a bank and into the lake.
In this connection I should like to say that, Aggie notwithstanding, we were never in any danger whatever. By standing upright in the car our heads were well above the surface, and Susie indeed appeared to enjoy it. I recall that in some manner or other she caught a fish and ate it with apparent gusto.
Nevertheless, time was lost. It was fully two hours before a passing car discovered us and pulled us out. And while waiting we had abundance of time in which to discuss the mystery. Aggie was convinced that Tish had been abducted and had written the note under duress.
“We bay dever see her agaid,” she said dismally.
But I was filled with dire forebodings which I kept to myself. From where we stood in the water we could see Suzanne’s camp site, and it appeared to be deserted. Also there was no sign of her car, and once more in agony of mind I saw our dear Tish as I had seen her the night before, poring over a map.
It was late in the evening and raining when we reached the crossroads, but there to our joy was our comrade, safe and sound. True, she looked worn and somewhat battered, as though she had been through a struggle of some sort, and there was a long scratch across her cheek. But she was cheerful, and almost exalted.
“Did you bring the beans and marshmallows?” was her first question.
She listened absently to our explanation of our delay, glanced at Susie asleep in the rear of the car, and at once took the wheel.
“We shall have to take a roundabout route,” she said. “I came by a short cut on foot, but with the car—You haven’t seen Mr. Armstrong, I suppose?”
“No,” I said.
“Well, that can wait.”
It was then raining hard, and the road was growing worse. We rattled over rocks and sank into mudholes, and once Aggie wailed that Susie was holding onto her and squeezing her to death. But it was not until dusk had fallen that we finally mired in a deep hole, and nothing Tish could do was of any avail. We were in a remote portion of the park, far from any tourist travel, and to add to our discomfort a cold wind was blowing.
It was quite dark when Tish finally abandoned the effort and walked ahead to look for a camping spot. When she returned there was hope in her voice.
“There’s a cow lying in the road just around the bend,” she said. “If I can slip a rope over its horns it will pull us out. A cow is tractable, but strong.”
I immediately got out the towrope, and Tish made a loop in it. Then we tied the free end to the car, and she disappeared into the darkness. It was only an instant later that things began to happen. There was a terrible jerk, and Susie was hurtled into the air and out into the road. The next moment I saw Tish running toward us.
“Untie that rope!” she called. “It’s not a cow. It’s a—”
I heard no more. We were off on the wildest ride in my experience. For some little time the creature kept to the road. Then it turned, and of what followed I have only a dim and confused memory. Once I am sure we went through a stream, and again over a burned forest. It is well enough for Tish to ask why I did not set the brakes; so far as I recall I was not stationary in one spot long enough to set anything. I do not even know when I lost Aggie.
But all is well that ends well. At the end of two miles, according to Tish’s later estimate, the car brought up against a tree and the rope broke. I could hear the creature galloping off, and knew that the adventure was over. Nevertheless, it was some time before I could compose myself, and almost dawn before I was able to sleep. The day had been an eventful one, and I am not as young as I once was.
At daybreak Tish and Aggie found me, having had no difficulty in tracing my progress. Tish said that the rope was over the creature’s horns before she realized that it was a large buffalo, probably male, and that it was then too late to do anything.
She examined the car, and found that, except for losing its lamps and mudguards, it was still intact.
“They are certainly powerful animals,” she said thoughtfully. “And how the Indians ever killed them with bows and arrows I cannot understand. However—”
She then inspected our location, and declared that if we had chosen it it could not have been better. With which cryptic remark we set to work to make camp, asking no questions. Tish herself had disappeared, taking with her the beans and marshmallows. When she returned we were astounded to find that she had brought with her a number of camp delicacies in cans and bottles, but she offered no explanations.
Indeed, almost her sole remark, I recall, during the evening was when she asked if we had any idea of where Mr. Armstrong was to be located. When we said we had not, she frowned slightly.
“He must be found,” she said. “Not necessarily at once, but soon. If only the idiot hasn’t left the park! It would be like a man,” she continued, with that clear vision of the other sex which never fails her, “to let somebody else do the work and take the risks, and then run off.”
It was the next morning that Aggie, whose day it was to police the camp, came to me with an agonized look on her face. Tish was again absent on one of her mysterious errands.
“She was out last night, Lizzie,” she said. “I saw her go. And she took Susie with her, on a rope.”
“If you will spy on her,” I began, but she interrupted me by holding out a piece of cloth with two small holes cut in it.
“Do you know what that is?” she demanded. “It’s a mask, and Tish had it on last night. Where did she go? Where did she get six cans of caviar, three bottles of olives, and all that deviled ham? She didn’t win it in a raffle.”
And just then Tish came into camp and heard her. If she was indignant she concealed it, and her voice was kindly, even tolerant, when she spoke.
“The question is an ethical one, Aggie,” she said, “and probably beyond your comprehension. But it is this: when I find a problem with a possible honorable and happy solution I feel that I am satisfied in going to any lengths to work it out.”
“What lengths?” Aggie demanded in a terrible voice.
“I have removed Suzanne from an environment obviously unsuited to her, and certainly unsettling. She is safe at the cabin; she has a roof over her head, beans to eat and coffee to drink, and a bunk to sleep in. If she knows enough to fill it with leaves she will have a good bed. All she lacks is men to do the work for her and show her the Dipper.”
“And you think she’ll stay?” Aggie asked scornfully. “She’s got a car, hasn’t she?”
I shall never forget the forbearance in Tish’s voice as she replied.
“She has indeed a car, Aggie. Unfortunately, it has no gasoline in it.”
“She’s got two legs. If everybody doesn’t know that, it’s not her fault.”
“But Susie has four,” said Tish kindly. “It is strange how she dislikes Susie, for Susie likes the cabin. All I have done has been to throw a few marshmallows on the roof at night, and it is really surprising how much time that bear spends on it.”
Well, it appeared that she considered Suzanne really a nice girl, only temporarily gone wrong, and that she felt that a brief lesson, with Mr. Armstrong later effecting a rescue, was the only thing needed.
Later on, she told us further details. Of the kidnaping she said little, save that it had been necessary only to threaten Suzanne with a revolver, and that the girl had showed considerable courage. She had indeed thought that Tish was a man and had tried a number of small coquetries on her, but naturally without effect.
But Tish felt that Mr. Armstrong ought to play a part in all this and that the first thing, naturally, was to find him. Her plan was to leave Aggie and myself on guard, so to speak, and herself take the car and locate him if possible. She had found a vantage spot on the hill over the cabin, and there we were to watch, unseen. To prevent a chance intruder from driving into the cabin lane, she had already set up a sign, “Keep out. Danger.” And she felt that all was well.
Early the next morning, therefore, she took her departure, and Aggie and I began our vigil. Only a day or so ago I found my notes, as I had kept them.
“Monday, Aug. 3rd: S. waited inside the cabin until Susie got off the roof and departed. Then she gathered firewood, but it was green and would not burn. Cried a bit. Made fire at last. Put coffee on and opened can of beans. Coffeepot upset and coffee spilled. Got more water for coffee from creek. Beans burned while doing so. Gave up, kicked coffeepot and upset it. Has had nothing so far all day. On Susie appearing again, ran into cabin.
“Tuesday: Tried to wash some clothes in creek. Lost soap, as it floated away. Followed it for a time, then gave up in despair. Imagine it is only soap she has. Large moose around cabin today. Wonder if Tish thought of this possibility? She has given up trying to build fire and is eating cold beans out of tin cans. Evidently loathes them, but needs nourishment.
“Wednesday: She has been trying to gather firewood for cabin, as nights are cold. Dropped a piece on her foot and sat down and cried. More beans. In intervals between Susie has been carrying leaves into cabin. Looks pretty dreadful. Hair all out of curl and face black with smoke. Stopped gathering leaves today to shake her fist at mountains.
“Later: In desperation, at 3 P. M. made attempt to escape. Filled pockets with cans of beans, looking at them with hatred, and got hat and coat. I was obliged to rouse Susie from sleep and send her down. Think she is out of cigarettes, as Aggie saw her powdering dried leaves and rolling them in paper.”