By the time Cathalina had gone downstairs, Miss Randolph was ready. She smiled at Hilary and Lilian, told them to go to bed, took Cathalina’s arm and started. Capable Mickey was on hand, as Cathalina was glad to see, and helped them into the small car which had been brought around in front of Greycliff Hall. There was several men on horseback, armed with large flashlights.
It seemed only a minute before they came to the bridle path which started off the main road. Then Cathalina and Miss Randolph were put on horses and led along the path until they came to the spot where Cathalina said Betty had stopped. With flashlights they examined the place and saw the hoof marks where Calico had stampeded. Cathalina wondered why she and Miss Randolph had not been put on horseback at first, then shudderingly realized that they might need the car for Betty. As soon as Cathalina had identified the spot, she and Miss Randolph were led back to the car to wait while the search went on; but just as they started, a loud whinny was heard from the depths of the woods further on, and the men started in that direction. “That is our horse!” exclaimed Miss Randolph. “It must be!”
“Why don’t they call to Betty?” asked Cathalina.
“They will pretty soon,” replied Miss Randolph, and sure enough, there were a few loud hails that came to their ears as they sat in the car.
Presently, one of the men came to report that the horse had been found, the saddle partly off, and the bridle so caught in a strong branch that the animal could not get away. “Miss Betty was not anywhere near the horse, nor near the place where the horse must have bolted. We think that it would be better for you and Miss Cathalina to go back to the Hall. We are intending to stay out all night, if necessary, to find the girl.”
Cathalina looked around at the shadows, the dark trees and bushes, wondering if Betty were somewhere among them and thought of what Lilian had said in the afternoon about its all being so beautiful “when every thing was safe and happy.”
CHAPTER IX
WATER WINGS
It looked very much as if this were Betty’s final adventure. She lay upon the ground, on one side, where she had rolled from the elevation about the trunk of a huge tree. Both arms were over her head, for she had tried to catch the branches as she was thrown. Tossed over the bushes, she had just escaped being hurled against the tree, but had struck her head on one of its large roots as she fell. Her face was pale, her hands and arms limp, her brown hair a tumbling mass about the dark collar and shoulders of her riding coat. For a long time she lay so, then gradually began to come to a very sick consciousness of her condition and surroundings. Her arms were stiff as she drew them down to hold an aching, dizzy head. She tried to raise herself on her elbow, but fell back again and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they rested on a little ground squirrel that sat at attention on a projection of the root which had made the large lump on Betty’s head, as she later discovered by the stain there.
“Hello, little chap,” she said, whereat the chipmunk whisked out of sight behind the tree. Betty tried to think what had happened, and turned over on her back, her arm under the bruised head, looking now into the leafy branches of the big elm. A fat wood thrush flew upon one of the lower limbs and sang “Come to me,” most consolingly. Every dark spot upon his breast was in view, and he spread his wings, preened his feathers, turned this way and that, changed the key of his song, went from major to minor, and tinkled his little musical bell from time to time.
“Aren’t you a darling?” asked Betty, smiling a little crooked smile. “Oh, yes; I got thrown. It was Calico. I’m supposed to be ‘boning’ on Lit., and it’s little Betty who will have to get herself out of this mess. I can’t be so awfully far in this woods. But I imagine that Calico has found his way home. Maybe they will come after me. No broken bones anyway, unless my head,” and Betty smiled again her drawn smile. “Now I’m going to sit up!” And sit up she did. She gathered up her loose hair, wet and stained, and finding still a hairpin or two, fastened it on top of her head, away from the aching lump. “My, it’s getting dark. I’ll have to hurry.”