“I believe you are right. I hadn’t thought of that,” nodded Miss Elting. “But must we remain in this position all the rest of the day?”
“No, indeed,” replied Harriet. “I had hoped that the owner of these animals might come along, but there seems to be no one about. You see, in the autumn, the farmers are seldom abroad in the fields unless they chance to be plowing, so I think we had better move.”
“What have you in mind, Harriet? I know you have formed some plan to get us out of this predicament.”
“Yes, I have. The plan may not work, but it is worth trying. I wish you would call the beasts to your tree. I can depend upon you. You will not lose your head. You will have to use your own skirt this time, but for goodness’ sake, don’t lose it. Some one must be presentable when we get to camp.”
“See here, Harriet, I positively forbid your taking any further chances. You have had enough narrow escapes to-day as it is.”
“There will be no particular danger for me, Miss Elting. You will be in more danger than I shall be when the plan really begins to work. Will you call the bulls over to your tree?”
“Yes. But I warn you I shan’t be a party to any more foolishness.”
Harriet made no reply. She scanned the orchard about her, finally fixing her eyes upon a tree with low-hanging limbs, situated several rods farther down the orchard and away from the road. The girl nodded, as though in answer to some question she had asked of herself.
“Now I am ready. I have removed my skirt,” called the guardian. “What next?”
“Wait a moment.” Harriet clambered down the tree a little way, placing herself in a position where she could jump without loss of time. “Now wave your skirt, please.”