The Camp Fire Girls' Larks and Pranks Part 13

"Whatever did you do to him?" wailed Veronica, when informed that this was actually Fifi and not some freak animal from the Zoo.

"I wanted to blue him to make him nice and silvery white," explained Katherine ruefully, "and there wasn't any bluing, so I made some with iodine and starch. I thought he would come out all nice and fluffy, but instead of that he got-all-stiff!"

The Winnebagos burst out into a wild peal of laughter that made the windows rattle. They were simply helpless, and laughed until they sank limply on each other's shoulders. The simplicity of Katherine's inspirations was nothing short of sublime.

Gaining a measure of control over themselves, they became aware that Veronica was standing before them with eyes flas.h.i.+ng lightning, in such a pa.s.sion as they had never seen any girl display. Holding her translated pet in her arms, she stamped her foot and almost hissed at Katherine: "Don't you ever come near me again, you-you great big kangaroo from out of the west!

"And the rest of you are just as bad," she cried, blazing at them collectively. "You think it's funny. I wish I had never met you, and from this day I am no more a Camp Fire Girl! I am through with you!" And before they could collect their wits to reply she had rushed out of the house like a whirlwind.

Completely sobered by the result of her act, Katherine called herself one name after another and proposed the most extravagant things in the nature of penance. She and Nyoda talked it over a long time, and Nyoda made her see how a habit of doing things without thinking of the consequences led to more trouble than deliberately planned evil did, and she promised faithfully that this was the last rash act she would ever perform.

"Now that Veronica has had time to think it over and see the funny side, and realize that Fifi is not hurt, I think you may go over and present your sincere apologies and make your peace with Veronica," said Nyoda.

And Katherine, humble as the dust, set forth.

But Veronica would have none of her peace offerings. She received her apology coldly, and declared she would never come back into the ranks of the Winnebagos. Then did Katherine go to Nyoda and offer to resign from the group if that would bring Veronica back. "She has a better right to be in it than I," she said. "She was in it first."

But Nyoda would not consent to that at all. "The whole thing isn't worth such heroic measures," she declared. "I'll talk to Veronica myself."

And she did, with no better results than Katherine. Veronica would not be appeased, even now that Fifi was white once more, and had suffered no evil effects from his bluing. Veronica declared that Katherine was low cla.s.s, and not fit for her to a.s.sociate with. And she wouldn't forgive the others for laughing. So Nyoda had to go back and report her failure to the other girls. And sadly they realized that their hope of making Veronica into a Winnebago had evaporated.

CHAPTER XI A WINTER HIKE

A long cherished wish of the Winnebagos came true that winter, for they all got snowshoes for Christmas. So did the Sandwiches. They brought them down to the Open Door Lodge to show to the girls. "See what we've got,"

said the Captain, with a slightly superior air as becomes the owner of a pair of snowshoes in the presence of a mere girl.

"Wait until you see ours," returned the girls merrily, producing their "slush walkers," as Katherine had dubbed them.

"You didn't all get them, did you?" asked the Sandwiches, in comical surprise. It was hard for them to realize that the Winnebagos were as adept at outdoor sports as they were.

"We surely did," answered Sahwah. "What good would it do us for some to have them and some not? We always travel together."

The Captain had Hinpoha's in his hand and was examining them critically.

"You girls haven't the right kind of harness on your snowshoes," he said, with the air of an expert. "Straps like yours, that buckle over the toes and around the heel are 'tenderfoot' harness. They don't give enough to your motions and you are likely to freeze your feet. See our bindings.

They are made of lamp wicking and calfskin thongs. By putting your foot on the shoe so that your toes come just under the bridle and binding it fast with the wick, making a half-hitch on each side and tying a knot at the back of your shoe you can make a fastening that will hold tightly as long as you want it too, but will permit you to free your foot with a single twist in an emergency."

"Did you learn all that down at Tech?" asked Hinpoha, with just a touch of sarcasm. It seemed to her that the Captain was trying to show off his knowledge.

"He won't admit that we know as much as they do about some things," she was saying to herself. "They couldn't get ahead of us by getting snowshoes, so now they must claim that theirs are right and ours are wrong. Ours are more expensive, that's the whole trouble."

"My uncle told me about it," said the Captain earnestly. "He's been up north and he knows all about snowshoes. Wait a minute, and I'll show you what I mean." He bound his snowshoes on his feet in the approved fas.h.i.+on, and then, by stepping on one shoe with the other foot, skilfully wriggled his toe free without injuring the binding. "You couldn't do that if it were buckled," he said simply, turning to Nyoda for approval.

"You're right," said Nyoda. "We never thought of that side of it before.

Don't you think, girls, we'd better change ours?" They all agreed, all except Hinpoha. For some odd reason she still fancied that the Captain was crowing over her, and she was determined to show him that his opinion meant nothing to her.

"I like the straps much better," she declared. "And the buckles look so pretty flas.h.i.+ng in the sunlight. Much prettier than your old lamp wicks.

They'll be dirty in no time." And they could not induce her to change the bindings.

Followed days of learning how to run on snowshoes. It was not so very difficult, after all, not nearly so hard as the skiing Sahwah had tried the winter before. There were tumbles, of course, when they struck unexpected snags, but the snow was soft and no one was hurt. Hinpoha was glad she didn't change her smart buckle binding for the wicking-thong affair of the others, because hers looked much nicer, and there was no occasion for getting out of them suddenly. The first day everybody returned home full of enthusiasm for the new sport. Sahwah in particular was so anxious for the morrow to come when she could be at it again, that she could hardly go to sleep. But when she woke up in the morning she felt a strange disinclination to get up. Her limbs ached so fiercely that she could hardly stand. Her muscles were so cramped and sore that she was ready to shriek with the pain. She limped stiffly into the cla.s.s room half an hour late, to see Gladys going in just ahead of her, traveling with a sidewise motion like a crab, and stumbling as though her feet were made of wood. Poor Hinpoha never appeared in school at all that day.

"What's the matter with us?" they groaned, dropping into Nyoda's cla.s.s room at lunch hour. "We're ruined for life." Nyoda could not conceal a smile of amus.e.m.e.nt. "I knew you'd get it," she said, with gentle raillery. "That's why I advised you not to stay out more than fifteen minutes the first day. But you were bound to stick to it all afternoon."

"What did you know we'd get?" they asked in tones of concern. "Are we lamed for life?"

"Hardly as bad as that," laughed Nyoda. "I have good hopes of your ultimate recovery. You have what the French call 'mal de racquette'-the snowshoe sickness. You use a different set of muscles when snowshoeing than you do ordinarily, and these muscles become very stiff and sore. All you need is a little limbering oil. Little Sisters of the Snow, you are learning by experience!"

It was fully a week before either the Winnebagos or Sandwiches went snowshoeing again, although they made excellent excuses. Neither group would admit to the other that they had become stiff, and would not limp for worlds when in the sight of the others, although it nearly killed them to walk naturally. Nevertheless, they understood each other perfectly.

In February came a three days' snow storm that covered the earth with a blanket several feet thick, and a slight thaw followed by a zero snap produced an excellent crust. The Winnebagos were having a solemn ceremonial meeting in the Open Door Lodge when without warning there was a sound of scrambling up the ladder and the Captain burst in among them.

"Oh, I say," he shouted, and then stopped suddenly as he became aware that the girls were engaged in singing some kind of a motion song.

"Excuse me," he stammered in confusion, "I didn't know you were having a pow-wow. I heard you singing up here and thought you were just having a good time."

"What news can you be bringing that made you burst in on us in such a fas.h.i.+on?" said Nyoda sternly, but with a twinkle in her eye. "Speak sir, the queen commands."

The Captain seemed ready to burst with his message and fired his words like bullets from an automatic pistol. "My Uncle Theodore's here, you know, the one I said had been up north, and he knows a dandy place in the country where there are some log cabins and he wants us all to go down there on our snowshoes for a winter hike and stay three days over the Was.h.i.+ngton's Birthday holiday. Oh, please, can you girls come?"

"But--" began Nyoda.

"Oh, I forgot," went on the Captain, "my aunt's here, too, and she's just as good on snowshoes as Uncle Theodore is, and she's going along, too, and will see that you girls don't take cold or anything. Please say you'll come."

There never was such sport as a winter hike. The preliminaries were arranged with much rea.s.suring of parents and relatives; buying of all-wool clothing and blankets; selecting of cooking utensils and what the boys elegantly referred to as "grub." "Uncle Theodore" was a real woodsman, who had spent most of his life in lumber camps; bluff, hale and hearty; a man to whom you would be perfectly willing to entrust your life after the first meeting. "Aunt Clara" was a little round dumpling of a woman, who radiated smiles like suns.h.i.+ne, and declared the Winnebagos were the handiest girls she had ever seen. It was their skilful way of packing supplies that called forth this praise.

Food and blankets were sent down by automobile a day ahead, so that the hikers would have to carry nothing but their cameras and notebooks. The morning of Was.h.i.+ngton's Birthday found them all a.s.sembled on the station platform, for they were to go by cars to a certain town down state and from there to strike across the open country on their snowshoes.

"What are you going to do with the torpedo?" shouted the Captain, as Slim appeared carrying a strange looking package.

Slim smiled mysteriously. "Shoot rabbits," he replied evasively.

"It isn't a torpedo," said quick-witted Sahwah, after one look at the package. "It's a thermos bottle."

A chorus of derision went up. "Better Baby has to have his bottle!" "Oh, Slim! Are you afraid you'll starve before we get our dinner?" "What's in it, Slim, let's see!"

Slim turned fiery red and shot a dark look at Sahwah.

"It's hot chocolate, I know," continued his red-cheeked tormentor. "Slim has to have a dose every hour or he feels faint." Sahwah had long ago discovered Slim's pet weakness.

"Where's Katherine?" said somebody suddenly.

"Why, isn't she here?" said Nyoda, counting over the group. "I thought I saw her here."

"She hasn't come yet," declared Hinpoha and Gladys.

"Oh, I hope she hasn't had an absent-minded fit and forgotten this is Was.h.i.+ngton's Birthday," said Sahwah, clasping her hands in distress.

Uncle Teddy pulled out his watch. "It's too late to go and look for her,"