“And be roosting on a branch?” asked Katherine, and they all had to laugh in spite of their concern.
“Well, you never can tell what Sahwah will do next,” returned Hinpoha, “especially in her sleep. You haven’t known her as long as we have. Once in camp she climbed to the top of the diving tower and jumped off. So I guess climbing a tree wouldn’t be impossible for her.”
“Hark, girls,” said Nyoda, bending her head in a listening attitude. “Don’t you hear music?” The others listened, but could hear nothing. “When that breath of wind came in this direction I thought I heard it,” said Nyoda. “There it is, again.” This time they all heard it, faint and far, a soft strain of music, but what kind of music or whence it came they could not make out.
“It came with the wind,” said Nyoda, “so we must walk against the wind and see if we can find it.” Heading into the wind they walked up the road. They shivered as they walked and the snow crunched under their feet. The very moonlight seemed cold as it touched them and the stars glistened like splintered icicles. Verily, it was a cold night to be sleepwalking. The music began to sound more clearly now, and at a turn in the road they stopped still in amazement at the sight before their eyes. There in the road just ahead of them ambled Sandhelo, and by his side walked Sahwah, dressed in her troubadour costume, the red cloak flying out in the breeze. She held her mouth organ to her lips, and the drawing of her breath in and out of it was producing the strains of music which the girls had followed. As they suspected, she was sound asleep. They hurried forward to waken Sahwah, and she turned around and faced them. Her eyes were wide open in the moonlight. A moment she looked at them and then turned suddenly and swung herself onto Sandhelo’s back. At her touch on his bridle Sandhelo started and then began running down the road as fast as he could. Sahwah woke up, gave one shriek of fright, and then mechanically dug her knees into his sides and hung on. Sandhelo did not have his regular harness on, only his bridle, and she was riding bareback in this strange adventure. The girls pursued as fast as they could, shouting at the top of their voices, but of course they were soon left behind. Far ahead of them in the moonlit road they saw Sandhelo stop suddenly and slide his rider over his head into a snowdrift and then sit down on his haunches beside her like a dog. Sahwah had emerged from her drift and was shaking the snow off when the others came up. “What’s the matter?” she asked in a bewildered tone. “How did I get out here?”
“Home first, explanations afterward,” said Nyoda, wrapping her in the bear rug she had brought with her. And they made Sahwah run every step of the way back to the Lodge, and swallow quarts of hot lemonade before they would tell her a single thing.
Migwan insisted on tying Sahwah’s foot to the post of Nyoda’s bed for the rest of the night to insure her being there in the morning. They had just gotten quieted down when the ropes of Katherine’s hammock broke and down she came with a resounding crash.
Morning found them heavy-eyed and full of yawns, but to all inquirers they stoutly maintained that the select sleeping party had been the best ever.
CHAPTER IX
THE CANDLE IN THE WINDOW
“What’s all this about singing carols?” asked Migwan. “Everywhere I go the talk is all of carols, carols, carols. And the air is full of ‘God Rest You, Merry Gentlemen,’ and similar melodies.”
“It’s the Music Club League,” explained Gladys. “They have revived the old custom of going through the streets on Christmas Eve with lanterns and singing carols, and are training the boys and girls all over the city to sing them. People who are interested in the work of the Music Club League and wish to give a gift of money for its support will put a candle in their windows and we will stop outside and sing carols for them. Isn’t it a pretty idea?”