Suddenly I heard a sharp “Hello” from the direction of the kitchen camp, followed by Tom’s generous “Howdy” in reply. Turning my head I saw an alert individual in jeans and sombrero, with a dreary-looking pony grazing at his side. The man was talking eagerly, flinging his stalwart arm in the direction of the mountain whither my vagrant thoughts had just been turning.
“Can he be the discoverer of a new mine?” I wondered lazily. “Or perhaps a peddler of curios? Well, he shall not disturb me!” and I settled back into my hammock and took up my book with sudden energy. But Cousin Tom had spied me peering over my pillow, and in a moment he and his merry young wife and Cousin Mollie closed about my swinging couch.
“Oh, we’ve such a splendid chance to go to San Jacinto peak tomorrow!” they cried in a breath. And Cousin Mollie added, “It is the one trip needed to make this the happiest summer on record. How ridiculous that we ever thought of going home without making it!”
Then Tom went on: “The whole affair takes only three days; the trail is as easy as a floor, the guide says, and the expense just nothing at all!” And when I did not answer, “Why do you look so glum? You didn’t suppose we meant to leave you, did you? Of course you are going with us.” And the girls echoed, “Of course, of course!”
I turned upon my cousins with indignant scorn.
“Children,” I cried, “what are you talking about? Are you mad, clean, stark mad? I never rode a horse. I never saw a mountain trail. I should starve on bacon and dry bread. I am afraid to death of rattlesnakes and bears. Do you think I am an idiot? Of course I will not go!”
“Oh, now,” wheedled Tom, “don’t get excited. I’ll wager you will enjoy it the best of any of us. I tell you the trail is nothing. Rattlesnakes! and bears! Besides you are our guest, and we can’t go and leave you behind.”
“Only think of the view!” shouted the girls.
“Go to the mountains of the moon, if you feel inclined,” was my steadfast answer, “and take the view with you. I shall never, never leave Strawberry Valley on any such reckless venture.”
But even as I spoke I felt that sinking of the heart which portends defeat to foolish souls. As for my objections, Tom swept them away as though they were chaff and he a mighty wind. In mute despair I turned to pater- and materfamilias who had joined the group. Alas, for the first time they failed me. So, when there was no longer help in man—or woman—I yielded, firmly convinced that I should never see friends or kindred again, railing at my own weakness of will. But my good angel fluttered near, and so I went.