To be awakened early in the morning by the songs of birds and innumerable woodland sounds, and find one's self in the very center of a forest, is no common experience. To the girls, as they looked up through the leafy canopies, and then across the green aisles formed by trees that looked as if they might have stood there since the beginning of time-it was all very wonderful.

"How beautiful this is!" exclaimed each one, as she opened her eyes upon the wooded scene.

"Girls," cried Ruth, "I wouldn't have missed this for worlds! No wonder Zerlina hates to live in a house in the summer time. Isn't this fun?

Shall we go over there and wash our faces in that little brook!"

Off they scampered, a curious procession for the deep woods, each with a burden of toilet articles, soaps and sponges, wash rags, mirrors and brushes.

"Well," exclaimed Miss Sallie Stuart as she knelt beside the stream and dipped her hands into its cool depths, "I never expected to come to this; but it is very refreshing, nevertheless."

"This is Nature's bathtub, auntie, dear. We should be thankful to have it so near. I suppose that is the reason the Gypsies chose this spot to camp in," said Ruth.

"My dear child," replied her aunt, "I know very little about the Gypsy race; but I do know one thing: that a Gypsy never took advantage of any kind of a bathtub, wooden, tin, porcelain or Nature's."

The girls all laughed joyously.

The fright of the day before had not left a very deep impression. Sleep and a feeling of safety had almost effaced it.

Presently they were back at the tent making tea and boiling eggs supplied by Granny Ann from the Gypsy larder. Ruth wanted to build a fire, but they decided that the ground was too dry to risk it. The Gypsies had dug a small trench all around their camp fire. If they had not, those splendid old woods would have been in serious danger of burning, explained Barbara, who had been reading a great deal in the papers about forest fires.

It was arranged, after breakfast, that one of the men should ride over with a note to Major Ten Eyck's, asking the major to send for them at once, and also to dispatch his chauffeur to mend the slashed tires.

The Gypsy camp had been astir long before the automobilists arose, and the men were now sitting at their ease around the clearing, smoking silently, while Granny Ann and two other women were moving about the tents, "cleaning up," as Ruth expressed it.

"They have a lovely chance to learn housework," said Grace. "But they do seem to air their bedclothes. Look at all those red comforts hanging on the bushes."

"It's easier to air them than to make up the beds," observed Mollie.

"All you have to do in the morning, is to hang your blanket on a hickory limb, and when you go to bed, s.n.a.t.c.h it off the limb and wrap up in it for the night."

"Do you suppose they sleep in their clothes?" pondered Barbara.

"Why, of course they do," replied Ruth. "You don't for a moment imagine they would ever go to the trouble of undressing, only to dress again in the morning?"

"Girls, girls," remonstrated Miss Sallie, "we must not forget that we are accepting their hospitality. Besides, here comes that young woman with the voice."

"Let's take Zerlina as a guide, and go for a walk," cried Ruth. "I'm so full of life and spirits this morning that I couldn't possibly sit down like those lazy men over there, who seem to have nothing to do but smoke and talk. Auntie, dear, will you go, or shall we fix you a comfortable seat with the cushions under this tree and leave you to read your book?"

"I certainly have no idea of going for a walk," replied Miss Stuart, "after what I've been through with these last two days. Nor do I want you to go far, either, or I shall be terribly uneasy."

But Miss Sallie was not really uneasy. It was one of those enchanting mornings when the mind is not troubled with unpleasant feelings. Perhaps the Gypsies had bewitched her. At any rate she sat back comfortably among the cushions and rugs, with her writing tablet, the new magazines and the latest novel all close at hand, and watched the girls until they disappeared down the leafy aisles of the forest. How charming their voices sounded in the distance! How sweet was the sound of their young laughter! Miss Stuart closed her eyes contentedly. The spell of the place was upon her, and she fell asleep before she had opened a single magazine or cut one leaf of the new novel.

In the meantime, the four girls, led by Zerlina and her dog, were following the little stream in its capricious windings through the forest.

A squirrel darted in front of them with a flash of gray and jumped to the limb of a tree.

Zerlina made a sign for the girls to be silent. Then speaking to her dog in her own language, he sat down immediately on his haunches and never moved a muscle until she spoke to him again. She walked slowly toward the tree, where the squirrel sat watching them uneasily. A few feet off she paused and gave a shrill, peculiar whistle. The squirrel p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and c.o.c.ked his head on one side. Zerlina whistled again and held out her hand. The charm was complete. Down the limb he crept until he reached the ground, paused again, surveyed the scene with his little black eyes, and with one leap, settled himself on her shoulder.

"Oh!" cried the impulsive Ruth and the spell was broken.

Away scampered the frightened little animal.

"How wonderful!" exclaimed the others as they gathered around Zerlina, who held herself with a sort of proud reserve as they plied her with questions.

"It is because I have lived in the woods so much of the time," she explained. "One makes friends with animals when one has no other friends."

"Zerlina," said Ruth, "let me be your friend."

"Thank you," replied the girl simply, "but perhaps we shall not meet again. You will be going away in a little while."

"You must come and sing for us at Major Ten Eyck's," said Ruth, "and then we shall see if we cannot meet again."

They were walking in single file, now, along the stream. Mollie was gathering ferns which grew in profusion on the bank. Barbara, who was behind the others, had stopped to look at a bird's nest that had fallen to the ground and shattered the little blue eggs it had held.

As she knelt on the ground, something impelled her to look over her shoulder. At first Bab saw only the green depths of the forest, but in a moment her eyes had found what had attracted them. Stifling a cry she rose to her feet. What she had seen was gone in an instant, so quickly that she wondered if she had not been dreaming. Peering at her through the leaves of parted branches she had seen a face, a very strange, old face, as white as death. It was the face of an old person, she felt instinctively, but the eyes had something childlike in their expression of wonder and surprise.

When it was gone, Barbara felt almost as if she had seen a ghost. She leaned over and dipped her hands into the stream to quiet her throbbing veins.

"Truly this wood is full of mysteries," she thought to herself as she turned to follow the others. But she decided not to say anything about it. They had had enough frights lately, and she was determined not to add another to the list.

By this time the girls had reached a lovely little pool set like a mirror in a mossy frame. On one side the bank had flattened out and was carpeted with luxuriant, close-cropped gra.s.s, almost as smooth as the lawn of a city park. The trees had crowded themselves to the very edge of the greensward. They closed up on the strip of lawn like a wall and stretched their branches over it, as if to shield it from the sun.

"Did you ever see anything so sweet in all your life?" cried Ruth, as she flung herself on the turf.

"Never!" agreed the others with enthusiasm, following her example.

"This pool is supposed to be haunted," said Zerlina, and Bab started, remembering the face she had just seen.

"Haunted by what, Zerlina?" she asked.

"It is not known," replied the Gypsy girl, mysteriously; "but on moonlight nights some one is often seen sitting on this bank."

"What some one-a man or a woman?" persisted Bab.

"It is not known," repeated Zerlina. "But it has been seen, nevertheless. Besides," she continued, "this is supposed to be the meeting-place of fairies. Though people do not believe in fairies in this country."

"I do," declared Mollie, and the other girls laughed light-heartedly.

"And," went on Zerlina, "the deer who live in this wood come here to graze and drink water from the pool."

"Now, that I can believe," said Ruth.

"Well, it is an enchanted spot," cried Mollie. "It must be. Look at Zerlina's dog."

The shepherd dog had taken his tail in his mouth and was circling slowly. The girls watched him breathlessly as he turned faster and faster. Once he fell into the stream, but he never stopped and continued to circle so rapidly, as he clambered out, that he lost all sense of direction and waltzed over the girls' laps, staining their dresses with his wet feet, while they laughed until the tears rolled down their cheeks, and the woods rang with the merry sound.

At a word from the Gypsy girl the dog stopped and stretched himself exhausted, on the ground.

"Zerlina, you must have bewitched that animal," cried Ruth. "But wasn't it beautiful? If we had been lying down he would have waltzed right over our faces."