The Camp Fire Girls in the Maine Woods Part 17

"Mountain Lake Camp sends greetings to Camp Winnebago and begs permission to send a delegation to call and pay its respects."

Nyoda wrote in answer:

"Camp Winnebago heartily returns Mountain Lake Camp's greetings and begs to say that it will be at home this very sundown."

What a flutter of excitement there was after the envoy had gone!

Gladys and Sahwah were overwhelmed with questions about the boys and conjectures as to how many and which ones were coming. Tents were cleaned and put in such order as they had never known before; the shack was decorated with gra.s.ses and wild flowers; canoe cus.h.i.+ons were brushed; songs were practised and lemons squeezed, that everything might be in readiness for the visitors!

Skirts which had not been worn since the beginning of summer were brought out of trunks and the wrinkles pressed out. Then there rose such a chorus of exclamations that the birds stopped their own chattering to listen.

"Oh, I can't get my skirt shut!" "Why, I can't either! Not by two inches!" "Oh, fudge! There goes the b.u.t.ton!" From every side came the same wail. Not a girl there who had not gained from five to fifteen pounds, and the tight skirts, made to fit in their slenderer days, were a sorry sight. "What _will_ we do, Nyoda?" they groaned to their Guardian, who was in the same plight herself.

"The only thing we can do," said Nyoda, "inasmuch as we haven't time to make them over, is for all of us to wear our white linen skirts with our middies outside, so it won't show how much they gap. And let this be a solemn warning to every girl to look over her clothes before it is time to go home!"

Promptly at sundown four canoes appeared around the cliff, each manned by two paddlers, and drew up alongside the Winnebago dock, where the girls stood to welcome them. The Counsellor who had shown Sahwah and Gladys around the boys' camp was there, and the Roberts brothers and five more of the senior campers. Ed Roberts looked around for Gladys the first thing, and his brother for Sahwah, while the rest paired off with the other girls as they went up the hill to the shack. Nyoda was not very fond of having her company sitting around in pairs and immediately started them to playing games which took them all in, and followed the games up with a Virginia Reel. Ed Roberts was filled with impatience at this method of entertainment, for it gave him no chance to monopolize Gladys as he would have liked to. He saw that she was a good dancer and was eager to try a new Hesitation step with her.

By and by Gladys slipped from the room and returned dressed in a fancy dancing costume. Poising on her toes as lightly as a b.u.t.terfly, she did some of her choicest dances--"The Dance of the Snowflake," "The Daffodil," "The Fairy in the Fountain." The admiration of the boys knew no bounds, and she received a perfect ovation.

"Now, Sahwah, do your dance," commanded Nyoda. Sahwah shrank back and did not want to, saying that after Gladys's performance anything she could do would seem pitifully flat. But the boys all urged her to try it, and at last she allowed herself to be led out on the floor by Gladys. She was still in an agony of embarra.s.sment and wished the floor would open and swallow her, but it was a rule of the Winnebagos that if they were called on to perform for the entertainment of visitors they must do the thing called for to the best of their ability, and Sahwah knew that if she refused to dance the reckoning with Nyoda would be worse than the embarra.s.sment of dancing, so she swallowed hard and went to work. She got through it very creditably indeed and was rewarded with hearty applause, which made her more fussed than ever.

Then boys and girls alike clamored to be allowed to "just dance"

and Ed Roberts had plenty of opportunity to try his new Hesitation with Gladys. But after she had danced three or four times with him in succession she left him for another partner.

This made him cross and he would not ask any one else to dance until a quiet word from his Counsellor sent him rather unwillingly on to the floor again. "Mayn't I have this one?" he pleaded every time after that, but Gladys smilingly declined, saying she had promised every one of the boys a dance and would not get around if she gave him any more, to which he a.s.sented politely, fuming inwardly, and wanted Gladys to himself more than ever.

"Bet I don't get another dance with her to-night," he thought crossly, and this was exactly the case, for Nyoda presently suggested lemonade and the dancing stopped.

It was nearly nine o'clock by this time, but the boys pleaded so hard for a ride on the lake in the canoes that Nyoda yielded and granted fifteen minutes extra. Ed Roberts took immediate possession of Gladys and led her into his canoe before she had time to say a word. He pushed off before there was time to put any one else in with them, for some of the canoes had to carry four. As they paddled through the moonlit water the girls sang "Across the Silver'd Lake" and by and by the boys added a few ba.s.s and tenor notes to it. Fairly in tune now they sang song after song in time to the dipping of their paddles.

"How much better any song sounds with a ba.s.s to it!" said Nyoda to the Counsellor in the canoe with her, which remark, though merely an effort to start a conversation on Nyoda's part, caused the Counsellor to flush to the roots of his hair and get completely out of stroke.

Sahwah, up at the head of the procession with Ned Roberts, was in her element. He was a fine paddler and his stroke matched hers exactly. They were in her own little canoe, the _Keewaydin_, and as it was so much lighter than the others they were continually getting ahead. She taught him the "silent" paddle of the Indians, which they used to hide their approach, twisting the paddle around under the surface to avoid the sound of dipping.

She told him about the rifle which Gladys's father had sent her, and he promised to teach her to shoot it when the boys made the all-day visit which Nyoda had suggested.

Ed Roberts managed to keep himself and Gladys at the tail of the procession. He was continually stopping to let the canoe drift and gradually widening the distance between them and the others.

When they rounded one of the little islands he stopped so long that the first canoes got out of sight around the bend, leaving them hidden behind the island. Gladys would have paddled on, but he begged her to stop and talk awhile. "Let's land on the island and sit on the rocks in the moonlight," he proposed. Gladys refused.

"Nyoda wouldn't like it," she said, "and it's past our bed time already. The other canoes have started for home."

"O bother bed time!" said Ed petulantly. "Who could bear to go to bed on a night like this? Besides, you can tell Miss Kent that I broke my paddle and we had trouble getting home."

Gladys shook her head indignantly. "I'll do no such thing," she said. "You take me home immediately, Ed Roberts, or I'll send out a call for Nyoda." Sulkily he picked up his paddle and dipped it in the water. Gladys paddled so energetically that they soon came up with the others and landed at the dock with them, and as the rest had been so occupied with their own affairs the disappearance of the one canoe for several minutes had gone unnoticed. The boys shook hands all around and departed in their canoes, singing until they disappeared around the cliff.

CHAPTER X.

BLUEBERRY ISLAND.

Gladys sat poring over the list of honors in the Handbook, looking for new worlds to conquer. She had been a Wood Gatherer for several weeks and was hoping to be made a Fire Maker before the end of the summer. With considerable pride she painted in the pictographs on her record sheet which stood for the honors already won. "Swim one hundred yards"--was it really true? At the beginning of the summer this honor had seemed as unattainable as flying the same distance in the air. She was also learning to recognize the different birds, trees and flowers that she found in the woods and along the roads. She was a very much surprised girl indeed when Nyoda pointed out at least a half dozen different varieties of ferns and gra.s.ses on one afternoon's walk.

"Are there different kinds of ferns and gra.s.ses?" she asked in astonishment. "I thought gra.s.s was just gra.s.s and ferns were just ferns, and that was all there was to it." Winning honors had become a fascinating game, and she read carefully through the list, putting a mark opposite those she thought she could accomplish before the next Council Fire.

Sahwah, sitting near her similarly occupied, suddenly called to Nyoda. "How about all of us winning this honor for planning an outing to include as many boys as girls?" she asked. "We have never had our trip to Blueberry Island, and it would be fun to have the boys along for a whole day." All the girls immediately shouted their approval and Nyoda said it would be a fine idea.

"We'll have to go in a couple of days, though, for the blueberries will not last much longer," she said. "We'll ask them this very day." Nyoda delivered the invitation in person. Sherry, the Counsellor, who had escorted the boys the other night, was mending the dock when she approached in the _Sunbeam_, and was very much surprised and delighted to see her. He received the idea of a joint excursion with enthusiasm, but said he would have to wait until the camp director returned from a day's trip with three of the older boys before he could accept definitely. He would let her know in the evening. Now Sherry knew well enough that there was no question about accepting the invitation, but he had a sudden feeling that a visit to Camp Winnebago that night would benefit his health considerably, and so delayed his answer.

Nyoda returned to camp and reported the result of her mission, and the girls settled down to wait for definite news. "Ned Roberts told me he wished they could come over every night;" said Sahwah, poising her woodblock in the air preparatory to stamping it down on the table cover she was decorating.

"Gracious!" said Migwan, "what a bore that would be! We'd never get anything done for ourselves, because we'd spend all day getting ready for them." Migwan begrudged every minute that she lost from the book she was making for Professor Bentley.

"It's impossible anyway," said Gladys in a tone of finality, "because we haven't enough skirts to last. I'll have to let out the belt of mine before I can wear it again. It was so tight last night I nearly died! That reminds me," she went on, "has anybody seen that yellow scarf I had last night when I was dancing the 'Daffodil'? I don't seem to be able to find it this morning." n.o.body had seen the scarf, but all promised to look through their belongings to see if it had accidentally been put in among them. "I thought I left it hanging on the railing of the shack," said Gladys.

"I might as well fix my skirt right away," said Sahwah, when conjectures about the whereabouts of the scarf had ceased, "I'll never have any more time than now." She rose and went to her tent but returned in a few moments looking mystified. "I can't find my white skirt," she announced. "I hung it on the tent ropes last night because it got splashed with water in the canoe.

Has somebody taken it for a joke? Hinpoha," she cried, pointing her finger at her, "you did it!"

Hinpoha shook her head in all seriousness. "Not guilty this time," she said. "The funny part of it is that I saw that skirt hanging in the moonlight after I was in bed and thought what a good joke it would be to throw it up on top of the tent, but I was too sleepy to get up and do it." Sahwah still suspected Hinpoha and Hinpoha went on declaring her innocence, when the arrival of a messenger from the Mountain Lake Camp put an end to the discussion. "He's bringing the answer to our invitation,"

cried the girls, as the young lad came up the path from the dock.

But instead of approaching Nyoda with his message as they expected, he asked for "Miss Gladys" and handed her the envelope.

Gladys opened the note and read:

"Dear Miss Gladys: The lateness of the hour kept us from having a pleasant talk on the island the other night, but I hope we may have an opportunity some other time. If I come for you to-night will you go out canoeing with me, just you alone? And please get permission to stay out as long as you like, as the Counsellor in our lodge will be away to-night and if I'm not in when 'Taps'

blows n.o.body will know the difference.

"In hopes,

"ED ROBERTS."

Gladys flushed painfully and all the girls crowding around teased her and asked if it was a love letter. She wrote an answer and gave it to the boy:

"Dear Mr. Roberts: To-night is our Council Fire and naturally I would not care to leave camp. I do not think I care to go any other night, either, as a Winnebago could never take advantage of a Counsellor's absence to stay out after hours. I am surprised and disappointed in you."

The boy departed and she threw Ed's note into the fire, simply telling the girls that he had asked her to go out canoeing that night and that she had refused. She said nothing about the underhand business he had proposed or the episode of the other night. The Camp Fire leaven had done its work thoroughly, and Gladys had fulfilled that part of the Law which reads, "Be trustworthy."

Sherry, the Senior Counsellor, left the Mountain Lake Camp in the gathering dusk, heading his canoe in the opposite direction from Camp Winnebago. Far out in the lake he turned right about face and pulled rapidly toward the Winnebago dock. A steady rain was falling and he drew the canoe up on the sand and turned it upside down carefully before mounting the path. He thought of course the girls would be in the shack, and bent his steps thither, but it was deserted; neither was there a sign of any one in the tents. He looked into the Mess Tent and into the kitchen end of the shack, but found no one. "Must be off for a ride," he reflected. "No, that can't be, either, because all the boats are in. They must have walked to the village." And with disappointment showing in every line of his face he turned his steps back toward his boat. Just then he heard the sound of singing coming from somewhere.

"Burn, fire, burn, Burn, fire, burn, Flicker, flicker, flicker, flicker, flame!"

With ears strained to listen he began to walk toward the sound.

Soon he saw the soft glow of a fire s.h.i.+ning through the distant trees and hastened toward it.

"The torch shall draw them to the fire--" The wind carried the words distinctly to his ears. Through the wet loneliness of the woods the flame drew him like a magnet. Drawing nearer he saw a bright fire burning high in the middle of an open s.p.a.ce, unchecked by the rain, and around it moved a number of black-robed figures. He recognized the Winnebagos, clad in bathing suits and bathing caps, and covered with their ponchos, calmly having their Ceremonial Meeting in the pouring rain. The song over, they sat down in a circle and went through their ritual with the water streaming over their firelit faces. A play was enacted, which he made out to be a pantomime presentation of "Cinderella," and he recognized Nyoda in the guise of the fairy G.o.dmother. Hinpoha was the prince and Migwan Cinderella. In the teeming rain she was rescued from her ashy seat by the fireplace and borne to the ball. As the prince bent over to fit the slipper to her foot a perfect torrent rolled off his poncho into her lap and threatened to swamp the romance. They plighted their troth with one hand and held their ponchos around them with the other.

Sherry pulled his sou'wester down over his ears and standing under the shelter of a pine tree watched the performance to the end. "Glory, what a bunch of girls," he muttered to himself.

"Having fun out in the wet woods while our boys are sticking around in their dry bungalows!" The Council Fire came to an end and the girls filed out among the trees singing the goodnight song. Of course Sherry didn't know the difference, but instead of singing the regular words, "May the peace of our firelit faces," most of the girls were singing, "May the peace of our dripping noses!" Nyoda was the last to come, as she had lingered to extinguish the fire, and Sherry placed himself directly in her path and stepped out from behind a tree as she came along. She started violently and flashed her bug light in his face. "Don't be afraid," he said, embarra.s.sed and blus.h.i.+ng, "it's only I, come to tell you that the boys can accept your invitation to go to Blueberry Island next Wednesday."

"Oh," said Nyoda, lowering her bug light and laughing, "that's very good news indeed. The girls will be glad to hear it. I must tell them right away!"

Sherry thought to himself that the news might keep awhile, as he had several other topics of conversation which would have beguiled the way up to the tents, but Nyoda called out to the girls and they came running back and swarmed all over her, and there was no chance for the poor man to say a word. After standing around for a few minutes he took his leave and paddled back to Mountain Lake Camp, looking rather drenched and forlorn.

The girls spent the next day in preparation for the picnic, full of joyous antic.i.p.ation, but Gladys was filled with secret trepidation. She knew Ed Roberts would be there, and would try to force himself upon her, and she was afraid her pleasure would be spoiled. She said nothing about it, however, for she feared Nyoda would take some decisive action which might result in none of the boys being allowed to go.