Six Little Bunkers at Cowboy Jacks | Page 7

six little Bunkers
almost all the time, and this time was no exception.
The equinoctial storm seemed to have blown itself out by the next
morning. As soon as the roads were dried up Daddy Bunker said they
would have to leave Captain Ben and start back for Pineville.
Meanwhile the children determined to have all the fun possible in the
short time remaining to them at Grand View.
Bright and early on this morning appeared Tad Munson. Tad was the
"runaway boy" in a previous story, and all those who have read "Six
Little Bunkers at Captain Ben's" will remember him. He was a very
likable boy, too, and Russ liked Tad particularly.
"They told me you Bunkers were going home soon, so I asked my
father to let me come over once more to see you," Tad said, by way of
greeting. "There's a lot of things you Bunkers haven't seen about here, I
guess. I know you haven't seen Dripping Rock."
"What is Dripping Rock?" Vi promptly wanted to know. "What does it
drip?"
"Not milk, anyway, or molasses," laughed Tad.
"It drips water, of course," Russ explained. "I have heard of it. You go
up the road past the swamp. I know."
"That's right," said Tad. "It's not far."

"I want to go, too, to D'ipping Wock," Mun Bun declared.
"Of course you do," Rose told him. "And if mother lets us go----"
Mother did. As long as Tad was along and knew the way, she was sure
nothing would happen to her little Bunkers. At least, nothing worse
than usual. Something was always happening to them, she told daddy,
whether they stayed at home or not.
"Don't go into the swamp, that is all," said Mother Bunker.
"Why not?" asked Vi.
"I know a riddle about a swamp," said Laddie eagerly. "Why is a
swamp like what we eat for breakfast?"
"Goodness!" cried Rose. "That can't be. I had an egg and two slices of
bacon for breakfast, and that couldn't be anything like a swamp."
"But you ate something else," cried Laddie delightedly. "You ate mush.
And isn't a swamp just like mush?"
"Huh! You wouldn't think so if you ever tasted swamp mud," said Tad.
"But I guess that is a pretty good riddle after all," Russ told the little
boy kindly. "For the mush and the swamp are both soft."
"And--and mushy," said Margy. "I think that's a very nice riddle,
Laddie. Why do we eat swamps for breakfast?"
"Goodness! We don't!" exclaimed Rose. "Now, come along. If we are
going to the Dripping Rock, we'd better start."
It was not far--not even in the opinion of Mun Bun. They took a road
that led right back from the shore, and you really would not have
known the sea was near at all when once you got into that path. For
there were trees on both sides, and for half the way at least there were
no open fields.

"I hear somebody calling," said Russ suddenly, as he led the way with
Tad.
"Somebody shouting," said Tad. "I wonder what he wants!"
"I hear it," cried Rose suddenly. "Is he calling for help?"
"Hurry up," advised Tad. "I guess somebody wants something, and he
wants it pretty bad."
"Well," said Russ, increasing his pace, but not so much so as to leave
Mun Bun and Margy very far behind, "if he wants help, of course he
wants it bad. Oh! There's the swamp."
They came to the opening. There were a few trees here on either side of
the road, which was now made of logs laid down on the soft ground.
Grass grew between the logs. There were pools of water, and other
pools of very black mud with only tufts of tall grass growing between
them.
"Oh!" cried Rose, who had very bright eyes, "I see him!"
"Who do you see?" demanded Tad, who was turning around and trying
to look all ways at once.
"There! Can't you see him?" demanded Rose, with growing excitement.
"Oh, the poor thing!"
Just then an unmistakable "bla-a-at!" startled the other children--even
Tad Munson. He brought his gaze down from the trees into the
branches of which he had been staring.
"Bla-a-at!" was the repeated cry, which at first the children had thought
had been "Help!"
"And sure enough," Russ said confidently, "he is saying 'help!' just as
near as he can say it."
"The poor thing!" sighed Rose again.

CHAPTER IV
WHAT WAS STUCK IN THE MUD
Russ began to whistle a tune, as he often did when he was puzzled. It
was not that he was puzzled about the thing he saw--and which Rose
had seen first--but at once Russ felt that he must discover a way to get
the blatting object out of the