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Six Little Bunkers at Uncle Fred's, a fiction by Laura Lee Hope |
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Chapter 9. The Queer Spring |
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_ CHAPTER IX. THE QUEER SPRING "What's all this? What's the matter?" asked Daddy Bunker, who had been looking at the mysterious spring and had not heard all the talk that went on. "What happened?" "Russ made a lasso," stated Laddie, while Mrs. Bunker and Uncle Fred started for the corral where the little calves were kept until they were strong enough to run with the other cattle. "Oh, Russ made a lasso, did he?" asked his father. "Well, that boy is always making something. He'll be an inventor yet, I'm sure." "Russ lassoed a calf," explained Mrs. Bunker, for Mr. Bunker had caught up Laddie, and they had now overtaken the others, who had started on ahead. "Well, he had to lasso something," said Mr. Bunker with a laugh. "Any boy wants to lasso something when he makes a lariat. I did when I was a boy. I lassoed our old rooster." "But the trouble seems to be," said Uncle Fred, "that Russ lassoed a calf, and now the calf is running away with Russ." "Oh, that's different!" said Mr. Bunker. "We'll have to see about this!" Then he hurried along with his wife and Uncle Fred toward the calf corral. The five little Bunkers stayed behind at the spring for Mrs. Bunker called back to them to do this, sending Laddie back, too. "We don't want any of them to get into trouble," she said to her brother. "Yes, I think, too, that one at a time is enough," replied Mr. Bell. Even before they reached the corral they heard the voice of Russ yelling. They heard him calling: "Whoa now! Stop! Stop, bossy cow! Let me get up! Stop!" "Maybe the calf will hook him!" cried Mrs. Bunker. "Oh, no!" answered Uncle Fred. "The calves don't have horns. Russ will be all right, though he may be mussed up a bit." "It will teach him not to lasso calves after this," said Mr. Bunker. "I'm not so sure of that," murmured Mrs. Bunker. "It is more apt to make the others want to try the same thing." A moment later they turned around the corner of one of the ranch buildings and came in sight of the corral. In one end they could see some frightened calves standing huddled together. In the middle of the corral was a cloud of dust. "That must be Russ and the calf," said Uncle Fred. He and Daddy Bunker ran faster toward the fence, within which the calves were kept, but, before they could reach it, they saw a man run out from one of the buildings, jump over the fence without touching it and land inside the corral. Then he disappeared in the cloud of dust. A moment later he came out, carrying Russ in his arms, and from the little boy's leg there dangled a piece of clothesline. Then, also out of the dust cloud, came a very much frightened spotted calf, and around its neck was another piece of line. "Oh, is he--is he hurt?" gasped Mrs. Bunker, for Russ was limp. "Not a bit, I'm glad to say!" answered the man who had Russ in his arms. "He's pretty dusty, and scratched up a bit, and his clothes are mussed, and he's frightened, but he's not hurt; are you?" and he laughed as he set Russ down on his own feet. "I--I guess I'm all right," Russ answered, a bit slowly. "I--I had a dandy time!" "Well, I should say you did!" exclaimed his father. "What did you do?" "Well, I was playing I was a cowboy in the Wild West and I lassoed a buffalo. I made believe the calf was a buffalo." "And then I guess the calf made believe you were a football, by the way it pulled you about the corral," said the man who had rescued Russ. "Yes, sir, I guess so," answered Russ. "I'm glad you rescued him," said Mrs. Bunker to the stranger. "I can't thank you enough." "Oh, I didn't do anything," was the answer. "I heard the little fellow yelling shortly after I had seen him in the corral with the piece of clothesline. I guessed what had happened, and I jumped in. I found the calf pulling him around, for the lasso the little boy made had gotten tangled around his legs. The other end was on the calf. "So I just cut the rope and picked up the youngster. Here he is, not much worse for wear. But you won't do it again, will you?" "No--no--I don't guess I will," answered Russ. "Captain Roy, this is my sister, Mrs. Bunker, and this is Mr. Bunker," said Uncle Fred, introducing them. "This is Captain Robert Roy, my ranch partner about whom I spoke to you," he went on to Mr. and Mrs. Bunker. "He has been away, or you would have met him last night." "I'm glad you are here to-day, to get my boy out of the trouble he got himself into," said Mr. Bunker, as he shook hands with the former soldier. "I am glad, too!" exclaimed the captain. "I like children, and I don't want to see them hurt. But, as it happened, Russ wasn't." "He might have been, only for you," said Mrs. Bunker. "We can't thank you enough. Russ, don't lasso anything more." "Can't I lasso a fence post, Mother?" Russ asked. "Well, maybe that, or something that isn't alive. But no more calves." "All right," said Russ. His clothes were brushed off, Captain Roy talked a little while with Mr. and Mrs. Bunker, and then went back to his work, and Uncle Fred remarked: "Well, now the excitement is over, we can go back to the spring. I presume the other children will be wondering what has happened." So back they went to where Laddie, Rose and the others were waiting. "Did you get him?" asked Laddie eagerly, when he saw Russ. "No, he got me," was the answer. "I guess we won't play Wild West any more. We'll be Indians and not cowboys. Indians don't have to lasso buffaloes, do they, Uncle Fred." "No, Indians have it sort of easy out here on their reservation," said Mr. Bell with a laugh. "I guess it will be safer for you boys to be Indians." "That'll be fun too," agreed Russ. "But we must have some feathers for our heads," said Laddie. "We can get them in the chicken yard," returned Russ. "Did the calf bite you?" asked Violet, and she looked at Russ as if to make sure he was all there. "No, he didn't bite, but he almost stepped on me. You ought to have seen me flying around the field on the end of the rope. I couldn't get it loose," and Russ explained how it had happened. However he was well out of it, and promised never again to try such a trick. "I could make a riddle up about it, but I'm not going to," said Laddie. "Anyhow it's hard to guess the answer, so I'll think up one that's easier." "Now this," said Uncle Fred, as they stood about the big spring, "is what I was telling you about. You all see what a nice lot of water there is here. Sometimes it overflows, there's so much. Then, within a few hours, it will go dry." "And where does the water go?" asked Daddy Bunker. "That's what none of us has been able to find out. The water just seems to sink down into the ground, as if the bottom had dropped out and let it all through. Then again, in a day or so, the water comes back again." "It is queer," said Mrs. Bunker. "And the worst of it is," said Uncle Fred, "that I may lose most of what I put into this ranch on account of this spring." "How?" asked Daddy Bunker. "Well, I bought this ranch partly because it had such a fine spring of water on it. There is none better for miles around. But if I wanted to sell the ranch again, and people heard that the spring went dry every now and then, they wouldn't pay me as much as I paid. So I would lose. That's one reason why I'm so anxious to get to the bottom of the puzzle. As I said, it's like one of Laddie's riddles--I don't know the answer." "It looks like a regular spring," said Mother Bunker. "And yet it isn't," went on Uncle Fred. "It's all right now, but an hour later we may find the water sinking away." "I'll take some pictures," said Daddy Bunker, who had a camera with him, "and then maybe we can dig up the ground and find hidden pipes, or something like that." "We'll do the digging to-morrow," said Uncle Fred. "Now I want to show you about the ranch." So he led them about, showing the six little Bunkers and their father and mother the different buildings, telling them how he raised his cattle and sent them to market, and how he sent out his cowboys to hunt for lost calves. "There's always something to do on a ranch like this," said Uncle Fred. "You can keep busy all the while. If one thing doesn't happen another will. What with the mysterious spring, the bad men taking my cattle now and then, the Indians running off the reservation and making trouble--well, you can keep busy." "Could we see the little ponies?" asked Rose. "I'd like to have a ride on one." "So would I!" exclaimed Russ. "I'd like a pony better than a calf." "The ponies are over this way. I'll show them to you," said Uncle Fred. "We'll go back by way of the spring. I have some Shetland ponies," he went on to Daddy Bunker. "I raised a few and may raise more. The larger children can ride on them while they're at the ranch." "That will be fine!" exclaimed Mrs. Bunker. "Oh, I'm sure the children will love it here." They turned back toward the spring to go to the pony corral. "I'm thirsty!" exclaimed Russ, as they reached the water hole. "I'm going to run on ahead and get a drink." On he ran, and the others saw him stop suddenly when he reached the spring. Then Russ shouted: "Oh, come here! Come here quick! Look! Hurry!" _ |
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