As Mark led the way up the trail, he described Granny Dunstan and her abode. "She's most a hunerd years old, an' she's allus lived in that cabin. This boy is her great-gran'son, but his folks lives in a town some forty mile away. He come to stop wid' Granny when she got so old, an' he likes the woods life."

"But he enlisted, you say, to fight the Germans," said Mrs. Vernon, eagerly.

"Yeh! He keeps up to th' times, an' hes books and papers up thar. When the _Lusertani_ was sunk he got reel mad, an' come down to Freedom an'

wanted to git a crowd of young uns up to go and shoot the Huns. But they diden' want to go so fur from hum. Then he got his dander up an' says: 'I'll jine myself, then. You'll hear of me some day!' And off he goes.

Some folks said he oughter have stayed wid his Granny, so a few of us druv up to ask her about it. Golly! she mos' made us deef with her shoutin' at our bein' slackers, cuz she said her boy was the onny true Yank in Freedom!

"She made us feel mighty small when she shouts out: 'Yuh call yer town Freedom! Bah--it ain't nothin' but a handful of cowards. It oughter be called "Slack town."' We got away pritty soon affer that, an' folks ain't so anxious to visit Granny as onct they was."

This explanation gave the scout party a good idea of the old woman they were about to visit, and Mrs. Vernon said:

"Do you think we should have told her we wanted to call?"

"Oh, no! she don't mind strangers. She goes about her ch.o.r.es jes th'

same ez ef no one was there," said Mark.

The seven horses padded softly up the gra.s.sy trail, and when they reached the cross-trail near the top of the mountain Mark reined in his mount.

"Now, yeh foller that trail to the crest an' then turn t' th' left.

Foller the road clear on till yeh come to the Cabin."

Mark waited and watched until the last horse had disappeared on top of the mountain, then he rode back to camp to wait. The scouts continued on the trail, pa.s.sing noisy streams that ran madly over rocks or fell over cliffs. The birds and flowers were many-hued and beautiful, so that every step of the way was enjoyable. Mr. Gilroy rode in front, and the Captain at the rear of the line.

After a ride of about three miles along the Crest, Mr. Gilroy stopped his horse and looked at a tiny cabin half-hidden under vines and giant trees. It sat back from the trail about twenty feet, and might have been pa.s.sed by unless one was looking for it.

"Isn't that lovely?" Joan said.

"Yes, in summer; but think how dreadful it would be in winter," added Julie.

"She doesn't live here all winter, does she?" asked Ruth.

"Yes; Mark says she won't leave the place, although her granddaughter--the aviator's mother, you know--begged her to move down to her home," explained Mrs. Vernon.

"The roof's as green as the gra.s.s," now said Betty.

"It's moss on the old shingles," said Mrs. Vernon.

"Mark told me that folks at Freedom say the old lady has a heap of money hidden away in this old cabin, and no one knows where except her great-grandson, who will be the heir," said Mr. Gilroy.

"But that is all conjecture, Mr. Gilroy, as no one has ever heard a word about it from Granny or her boy," added Mrs. Vernon.

"I think it is idle gossip, for how could the old dame make the gold up here? It would take all she could earn with her herbs to pay for her living," admitted Mr. Gilroy.

"Does she sell herbs?" asked the scouts, eagerly.

"Mark said she is the greatest Nature physician ever found around here.

If the medical men can't cure a sickness, they send for Granny Dunstan, and she gives the patients a drink of simples and they recover quickly.

"She used to sell these remedies all over the countryside, but of late years she doesn't come down to the towns like she used to. Her boy sells his pelts instead, so that is why the people said she had gold enough."

"I'm glad you told us this, Mr. Gilroy," said Mrs. Vernon, "as I should like the scouts to learn from the aged woman how she gathers and prepares the tea and balms."

The riders dismounted and tied their horses to trees, then followed Mr.

Gilroy across the gra.s.s to the cabin. The door stood open but not a sound was heard from within.

"Just look at this construction!" cried Julie. "She's used stones, logs and everything in the walls."

"And the growing trees were used for corner-posts of the house," added Mrs. Vernon, examining the odd structure.

Mr. Gilroy rapped politely on the door, but no one replied. Again he rapped louder, and a shrill bark sounded from a distance back in the woods.

"I guess she's out in her garden," said Mr. Gilroy.

"I heard a funny grunt from the little shed at the back of this room,"

whispered Julie.

"Let's go around the corner of the cabin and see if she is back there,"

suggested Mrs. Vernon.

So they followed Mr. Gilroy, and all had to laugh when they found the grunt came from a sow with a litter of little pigs. She was queen of the shed that leaned against the cabin, so the scouts watched her with interest for a time, then turned to follow after Mr. Gilroy and the Captain.

But the sow grunted excitedly when the little ones ran after the visitors. They thought there would be something to eat, and having never seen strangers before they knew no fear of them. The angry grunting of the old mother hog made the dog bark again from the woodland, and soon after a bent-over form could be seen coming from the woods.

A hound bounded before her, barking shrilly at the trespa.s.sers, until the old woman shouted: "Be quiet, Bill!"

Instantly the dog dropped behind his mistress, and Mr. Gilroy lifted his hat as he greeted the aged dame.

Mrs. Vernon went forward also, and said: "We came to see you, Mrs.

Dunstan; I heard your boy was an aviator in France, and I felt an interest in meeting and talking with you and him. My boy was one, too, but he was shot down."

This was an opportune introduction, as nothing melted the old lady's scorn and indifference to visitors like the interest one took in aviation.

"Now, this be a real treat! Them folks at Freedom won't dare to come and see me since we went to war!" declared the centenarian in a strong voice.

Granny Dunstan squinted keenly at the visitors to make sure they were truthful, and, finding they seemed earnest, she led the way to the cabin.

"I rickon we better sit outside; the cabin's too small to hold more'n three of us," announced Granny, as she turned to address her visitors.

Her criss-crossed wrinkled face seemed to roll up with that grin, showing shrivelled toothless gums. Yet the aged face was attractive, with a subtle kind of wholesomeness seldom seen in old people. Mrs.

Vernon said, later, that it must be the result of living alone with Nature and her children for so many years.

"You said you had a boy what was aviator in France?" questioned Granny, the moment the scouts had seated themselves.

"Yes, and when I heard your boy had been over, I was anxious to meet you both," said Mrs. Vernon.

"Wall, my boy's got a cross from France, an' now he's ben sent for to go to Washin'ton and meet some big folks what's here visitin' from France.

I tell you, John's a right smart soljer!"