"We've reached the 'Whispering Grotto,'" he explained. "The echo is famous." He pushed aside a low-growing bough, and brushing by it Blue Bonnet found herself in a lovely little cave-like spot, in the centre of which was a tiny spring. It bubbled up somewhere back in the hill and had made a long tunnel, coming to the light just here.

"Oh, for a cup. I'm thirsty as--as Tantalus!" sighed Blue Bonnet.

"A Texas girl crying for a cup?" Knight asked teasingly.

"That wouldn't have happened before I went to Woodford. I've been going through what they call--being civilized. It's mostly learning not to shock the New England sense of propriety."

"I'm not a New Englander!"

Knight's eyes were daring her; and it was fatal. What Sarah would have said if she could have seen Blue Bonnet's method of getting a drink is hard to conjecture. Hardly had she time to spring to her feet when voices were heard close at hand.

"I can hear Sandy." She turned eagerly to Knight. "Let's go on--I don't feel ready for a crowd."

"There's a lovely view from the top of the hill," he suggested.

Her only answer was to push on, plying her alpenstock eagerly in her haste to elude the others. Pausing only when the top of the hill was reached, she sank at length on a fallen tree-trunk. The view was all Knight had promised for it, overlooking a quiet valley.

"Let's call it 'Peaceful Valley,'" she said.

"It may have a different name on the map, but no one can prevent our christening it what we like," he agreed.

Blue Bonnet was content to rest for a while here. There was no sign of life anywhere, except a solitary bird wheeling about far above their heads.

"A swallow-tailed kite," Knight said as the bird dropped suddenly into clearer view. "Graceful, isn't it?"

All at once the big kite alighted on the dead branch of a tree near them.

"What glorious wings!" breathed Blue Bonnet.

"Would you like one for your hat?" Knight asked.

"Oh, wouldn't I!" she cried eagerly.

Quick as flash Knight swung his rifle about, aimed and fired. Blue Bonnet put her fingers in her ears with an exclamation of alarm. The bird toppled as if to fall, then righted itself with a lurch and fluttered out from the tree. Blue Bonnet gave a sigh of relief.

"I was so afraid you had hurt him!" she cried,--and the words died away in a gasp of distress. The kite, pitching headlong, had fallen almost at her feet.

She dropped on her knees beside it; but the bird was still. Knight, bending over her, was suddenly filled with surprise and dismay; she was crying like a child.

"It was so mean and vain of me," she said with quivering lips, "--to want him just for a hat, when he was having such a beautiful time."

Knight was pale with hatred of himself.

She looked up at last and smiled mistily through her tears. "I reckon you think I am pretty much of a baby. But I can't bear to see things--die."

"It's only a big hawk," he said to comfort both himself and her.

She looked up hopefully. "And hawks are mean birds, aren't they,--that kill little chickens and other birds?"

He hesitated, then said unwillingly: "Some hawks do. But this is a different kind. It lives on snakes and insects--"

"Then it is a good bird!--that's what Uncle Cliff calls them." Her face clouded again and she turned towards camp.

"You don't want one of the wings then?"

She shuddered. "Oh, no!" Then she paused. "I will have--I saw some feathers fall. Will you give me one? I want it for a reminder."

Knight picked up one of the tiny barred wing-feathers and handed it to her. "A reminder?"

"I'm never going to wear things like that again--wings and birds and all those cruel ornaments. I never realized before--And whenever I am tempted I shall look at this."

Knight bent, picked up another of the feathers and laid it away in his fly-book. "I need a reminder, too," he remarked.

"But you never wear birds in your hats," Blue Bonnet said wonderingly.

"My reminder shall be: 'Think before you shoot,'" he said quietly.

CHAPTER XIII

AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE

THERE was no sign of the other trampers when Blue Bonnet and Knight reached the little grotto; and descending to the Big Spring they found even that charming spot deserted.

Blue Bonnet looked around in surprise.

"Do you suppose we've missed them on the way down?" Raising her voice she gave her ranch-call--"Ho, ye ho, ho!"

"--ho ho!" the hill sent back; but no feminine or masculine voice answered the well-known notes.

Blue Bonnet, child of the open, then looked at the sun and the shadows and gave an exclamation of astonishment. "It's past noon! They've gone back to camp. My, I'll have to hurry--it's my turn to cook lunch."

She darted impetuously down the hillside, and Knight found himself compelled to move briskly in order to keep up with her. They went too fast for conversation, but once Blue Bonnet paused long enough to say over her shoulder--"You'll come to lunch, won't you?"

"Catch me refusing now I know who the cook is!" he replied gaily.

The path opened at last on the open s.p.a.ce before _Poco Tiempo_. There was sound of voices and laughter, and yes--the clink of dishes! Blue Bonnet turned a rueful face to Knight--"Do you hear that? They won't say a thing to me!"

"I am armed,--trust me to protect you," he declaimed theatrically.

They had to pa.s.s through the "kitchen" first, and there the clutter of empty pots and pans told their own story. From the dining-room the others caught sight of the tardy pair and a wild hubbub at once arose.

"Tramps!"

"Set the dogs on them!"