Then, swinging the knapsack which she always carried when on a mountain hike from her back, she took out her emergency kit. She washed the angry looking place with soothing liniment and then wound tightly about it strips of clean white cloth.
“Now,” she said, “we will have some refreshments.”
This amazed her listeners and greatly pleased at least one of them.
“Gee-golly!” Gerald cried. “I hadn’t thought of it before, but I guess I’m starving to death more’n likely.”
Meg smiled as she produced a box of raisins. “This may not seem much of a menu, but it is all one needs for several days to sustain life.”
The small boy took a generous handful and gobbled it with speed. Then the mountain girl brought out a canteen.
“Bring us some water from the creek,” she told him. Jane held out a detaining hand.
“Oh, Meg,” she implored, “don’t send Gerry to that raging torrent. Don’t you remember how we heard it roaring?”
“But you don’t hear it now,” was the reply. “The water from the cloudburst has long since gone to the valley to be absorbed, much of it, in the coarse gravel. You’ll find Crazy Creek just as it always is.”
“That’s where Julie sprained her ankle,” Gerald said. “We were trying to reach it to get a drink.”