They were descending a long rough hill when Jolt, who was the last beast but one in the line, heard a strange sound coming from his packs. Tally heard and recognized the metallic banging of some pans that had become loosened when the packs were wedged between the tree trunks at the top of the mountain. But Jolt was not as wise as Tally, and the more he shook himself, and sidled against the trees, the louder came that queer jangle. Then he managed to pass between two trees in order to brush off the objectionable thing, but that made the jangling still worse. So he became desperate.
About this time, Tally rode over to the place where Jolt was trying to crush the noisy thing from his pack, and attempted to use a lash to make the beast stop his stubbornness. But the tip end of the whip was all that caught the mule, and he suddenly jumped. That made all the other utensils shake loose and rattle. This was too much for the annoyed animal, and he started to gallop down the trail.
Warning shouts from Tally made the riders in front get out of the way; the guide then threw his lasso. But it caught upon a knob that had become loose and was projecting from the crate. Jolt flew onward, but the large object that had been roped, fell upon the ground with a dull thud.
To every one’s shocked surprise, the lassoed article proved to be the only bag of flour they had at that time. The cotton container burst open with the fall, and flour dusted softly out upon the surrounding scenery.
“We can scoop most of it up and sift it,” suggested Joan.
“But what is there to put it in?” demanded Julie.
“It’s so precious—we mustn’t lose an ounce of it,” added the Captain.
“We’ll each have to take one of our large clean handkerchiefs, and fill as much in them as they will hold. The ends can be tied together, and each will have to carry her own package,” suggested Anne, who was worried lest a good meal be forfeited.
“That’s the only way, I guess,” agreed Mrs. Vernon; so each one filled a handkerchief, and the rest of the flour was then pinned in the bag and carefully placed in Mr. Gilroy’s charge.
When the riders were on the trail again, there was no sight of Jolt anywhere. Where he had gone with the camp outfit was a question. But Tally worried not. He said laconically: