They walked slowly, and it felt very much like going to a picnic guaranteed to last forever. Presently someone started a marching song, and everyone joined in. They walked easily on, having a very good time as they went; and before they knew it noon had come, and it was time to have lunch.
They were near a meadow by this time, a big green meadow with trees at its edge, and they all sat down under the trees and unpacked their sandwiches and ate. Some of the girls had thermos bottles with them, with hot cocoa, but most of them preferred the concentrated lemonade Mrs. Bryan had brought along, mixed with water from a nice little brook which had been kind enough to flow quite near them.
“If it’s all going to be like this, won’t it be lovely?” said Winona, her eyes shining, as she took a large bite of sandwich, and then fed a generous share of the rest to Puppums, who lay quiveringly near her.
“It is nice,” said Helen more quietly. “I hope we’ll have weather like this the whole time ... gracious, what’s that?”
“That” was a distant squeal. Winona looked hastily around her to see what the Blue Birds were doing. But there were no Blue Birds there. The seven little girls were out of sight, but not out of hearing, for it was evidently one of them who had made the noise.
Winona and Adelaide jumped up and ran, but Louise and Edith sat placidly on.
“They will howl,” said Louise. “There’s no use always chasing after them.”
But when Winona and Adelaide arrived at the place the squeals had come from they were very glad they had done the “chasing.”
Florence, with little Lucy Hillis holding her, was sitting on the ground screaming steadily. The other girls were huddled together in a frightened group a little way off.
“What is it? What is it, Lucy?” cried Winona, frightened. Florence was making such a noise that it was no use asking her. Lucy Hillis, who was one of those quiet, old-fashioned little girls who always keep their heads, looked up, still holding Florence’s wrist.