The Camp Fire Girls in the Maine Woods Part 19

A ripple of excitement ran through the girls as they saw, far in the distance, the big river steamer approaching. "Shall we land until it has pa.s.sed?" called Sahwah.

"We can't land here," answered Nyoda, "the banks are nothing but mud and slime. Come in as close to sh.o.r.e as possible, and keep paddling so the waves from the steamer won't swamp you." The big pa.s.senger boat nearly filled the river from bank to bank, but she came very slowly and the waves she made did not amount to much after all. The people on board ran to the rail with their cameras to snapshot the three canoes full of girls--a birchbark canoe ahead bearing the huntress with her rifle; a big green canoe next packed with ponchos and supplies, followed by a canoe with sails, at the top of which floated the Winnebago banner.

Sahwah saluted with her paddle as she pa.s.sed; the other girls waved their handkerchiefs in friendly greeting.

Farther up the river there were rapids and the paddling became strenuous indeed. The sails had to come down from the sailing canoe, and the crew, who had been having an easy time, of it, had to bend to their paddles with all their might. Going through a rapid requires short, hard strokes in swift succession, to make any headway at all, and more than once a canoe was whirled around in the rus.h.i.+ng water and hurled back downstream. Sahwah was having a great time. She pretended that she was in the rapids of the Niagara, paddling for her life, and put forth such strenuous efforts that she soon left the others behind.

The girls were so tired by the time they reached calm waters again that Nyoda ordered them to land on a low green bank and rest for an hour. They built a fire and cooked their dinner and then stretched themselves in the shade of a large oak tree for a nap. As far as the eye could see on every side there was no trace of a human being; no house, no boat, no cultivated land.

It was as though they had stepped back a hundred years and were in the midst of the primeval forest of song and story. Migwan lay on her back in lazy contentment, watching the suns.h.i.+ne filter through the leaves. Idly she drew out her pencil and began scribbling words in her notebook:

"Underneath this spreading tree, Let us rest luxuriously; And caressed by breezes mild, And with song of birds beguiled, Interweave our bright day dream With a tale of wondrous theme."

"Up, up, comrades," cried Nyoda, rising and returning to her canoe. All through the lovely golden afternoon they paddled steadily upstream, and just about sunset landed on a low green meadow that ran down to the water's edge. Behind the tiny plain the woods grew high and dark. Sahwah, watching the other girls picking out their sleeping sites for the night, had an inspiration.

"May I sleep out in the _Keewaydin_ to-night?" she asked Nyoda.

"Why, yes," said Nyoda, "if you will tie it securely to a tree.

The current is pretty strong." They lingered long around the camp fire that night, telling stories and watching the moon rise over the treetops. None of them had ever experienced that feeling of being so absolutely by themselves. Quiet and unmolested as Camp Winnebago was, it seemed the center of civilization compared to this. Migwan, who was in a poetical mood, made up a new Camp Fire song and taught it to the girls:

"Lofty pine tree, old and grim, With the horned moon hooked round the topmost limb, And the owl awatch on the branch below, What is the song of the winds that blow Through your boughs so mysteriously?

They sing a song of the wide green world, Of the leaves in the merry breezes whirled, And rustle and murmur and moan and sigh Of the storm that darkened the sunny sky, And the s.h.i.+p that was lost at sea.

Lofty pine tree, lone and grim, With the moon peering over the topmost limb, And the owl asleep on the branch below, What is the song of the winds that blow Through your twigs so caressingly?"

Before rolling into their beds they all went for a moonlight swim in the river, which each girl declared to be the most wonderful experience of her life. No outdoor bed is quite so comfortable as a gra.s.sy meadow and the Winnebagos settled themselves with sighs of contentment. In her letter to her mother, Migwan wrote:

"I have never seen such cloud pictures as I saw that night. Once it looked as if a black-robed priest were holding the moon before him like a basin, while a polar bear stood upright beside him, his paws resting on a carved pillar. Once it seemed as if the moon were about to enter a vast cavern, at the door of which stood the figure of a youth with hands outstretched in welcome.

The moon paused before the door but did not enter. The youth slid to the ground and crouched with head on knee in an att.i.tude of despair. A gigantic figure stood out in the light. Before him danced a circle of elves. The figure in the doorway leaned back and slept. Watching this strange panorama, I fell asleep."

Nyoda awoke before sunrise and sat up to see if the rest were all right. All those girls sleeping on the ground looked like an army. She could not help wondering--would it ever come to that in earnest? Was this semi-military training of the Camp Fire girls all over the country a prophetic flash? She looked fondly around at her charges. Hinpoha and Migwan were sleeping together and the bed would hardly hold them. Both were still sound asleep and both mechanically swatting mosquitoes in their sleep. At the foot of her own bed the Winnebago banner was stuck into the ground, keeping silent guard. Gladys's bed had come apart and her bare feet were sticking out between the ponchos.

Nyoda lay back for another nap to waken when the rising sun shone in her face. She sat up again and this time she beheld a curious sight. One of the ponchos, tied up in a long roll, suddenly rose in the air, and after waving back and forth like a pendulum, slowly descended. Smothered giggles burst from the beds about.

Again the phenomenon occurred. Nyoda jumped up suddenly.

Seizing the poncho, she shook it, and a head appeared at the bottom end. It was Hinpoha. The girls had rolled her into her poncho and tied it up, and she was lying on the ground with her legs in the air when Nyoda first spied her. It was two hours before rising time but the girls were all wide awake and ready for larks. They sat up in bed and began to throw shoes at each other, until Nyoda, in sheer self-defense, blew the rising bugle.

The river was hidden from the girls by a heavy fringe of willows, and Sahwah had not joined in the early morning frolic. When she did not appear at the sound of the bugle Nyoda went down to call her. There was no sign of the _Keewaydin_. Nyoda knew well that Sahwah would not have paddled off by herself without saying anything. The canoe had broken away and floated downstream while she was asleep! Calling Hinpoha to come and paddle bow, Nyoda launched a canoe and started in pursuit. A great fear tugged at her heart. The rapids! The first one was not three miles down.

What if Sahwah should not wake up in time to see her danger!

With powerful strokes she sent the canoe flying downstream.

Fifteen anxious minutes pa.s.sed and then they saw the _Keewaydin_ floating merrily along ahead of them, with the rope trailing out behind it and Sahwah still sound asleep in the bottom. They caught the runaway and Sahwah sat up in great surprise. "Sahwah,"

said Nyoda severely, "is that the best hitch-knot you can tie?

You come back to camp and tie fifty secure hitch-knots before you get a bite of breakfast!"

Migwan, fully dressed, stood on the bank of the river admiring the scenery. Without moment's warning the ground gave way under her feet and she tumbled headlong into the water. It was only up to her waist, but the suddenness of the slide took her breath away and she blinked dazedly at the laughing girls. Recovering herself, however, she asked them to throw her her toothbrush, as she might as well finish her toilet while she had the water so handy!

An instant later Gladys was in trouble. "Watch me dive!" she called, and sprang from the bank. The water was shallow and the bottom soft, and her head stuck fast in the mud while her feet waved in the air. She was rescued from her uncomfortable position, her face and hair plastered with mud. Next, Hinpoha, swimming under water with the swift current, struck her head against a log and emerged with a great bruise. Nyoda, trying to get the pancake batter ready for breakfast, was nearly distracted with this swift succession of accidents. "Every one of you come here and sit in a row beside me," she commanded, "and the first one that causes any excitement until breakfast is over will get spanked!"

"What a lovely cave!" exclaimed Migwan later when they were exploring the woods. "It's a regular witch's cave. Nyoda, won't you dress up like a witch to-night and tell our fortunes?" Nyoda consented and the girls scoured the woods for hanging moss to decorate the cave, and for pine cones to build a charmed fire.

They were busily transforming the bare rocks into a green tapestried chamber, when Sahwah came up, crying as if her heart would break, carrying in her arms a dead wild duck.

"What's the matter?" asked Nyoda in alarm.

"I shot it!" sobbed Sahwah.

"But that's nothing to cry about," said Nyoda, "don't you know that wild ducks are game birds? It's a bit out of season and you mustn't shoot any more, but I must congratulate you on your aim."

Sahwah was a living riddle to her. Fearless as an Indian in the woods and possessing the skill with a rifle to bring down a bird on the wing, she was so tender-hearted that she could not bear to think of having killed any living thing! Nyoda bade her cheer up and pluck the fowl for roasting, and the girls danced for joy at the thought of the feast in store for them. They left off decorating the cave and went to constructing a stone oven in which to cook the bird. It was a bit scorched on the outside when done, but the meat was so tender it nearly fell apart.

Sahwah, who at first wanted to bury the martyr with full honors, changed her mind when she smelled the savory odor and enjoyed the dinner as much as the rest.

When night fell the girls repaired one by one to the cave in the woods to have their fortunes read. Nyoda, clad in her gray bathrobe in lieu of a witch's cloak, trimmed with streamers of ground pine, and with a high-peaked hat with a pine ta.s.sel on top, was a weird figure as she bent over the low fire stirring her kettle and muttering incantations. She read such amazing things in the extended palms that the Truth Seekers' eyes began to pop out of their heads. The grinning, toothless old hag (Nyoda had blackened all her teeth but one), was so realistic that they had to look closely to make sure that it was their beloved friend and not a real witch.

Near by Sahwah and Hinpoha were conducting a "Turkish Bath" for the entertainment of the girls who were through having their fortunes told. They had built a shelter of ponchos and had a fire going. They heated small stones red hot and then plunged them into a pail of water. The resulting steam heated the tiny chamber and threw the patients into a dripping perspiration, which limbered up their muscles, which were stiff from paddling.

They took the "Turkish Bath" in their bathing suits and went into the river immediately afterward so as not to take cold. Nyoda was the last customer, and helped take down the ponchos, and as Sahwah and Hinpoha had their beds to make up she sent Migwan to put out the fire. Instead of putting it out immediately Migwan sat down to dream fire dreams, until Nyoda called her to come to bed. Hastily scattering the fire brands with her feet she ran in obedience to Nyoda's call, and the camp was soon wrapped in slumber.

In the place where the fire had been a tiny spark lay on a dry leaf. Soon there was only a little curl of smoke where the leaf had been, and the spark looked around for another leaf to eat up.

He found it and then put his teeth into a pine cone. From a tiny spark he had grown to a hungry flame. The pine cone crackled and snapped and jumped into a dry pine tree that lay nearby. In a few minutes the twigs were burning merrily and the flame was twice as big as when Sahwah was heating stones. Then the wind came along and carried a flock of sparks into another dry tree, and that one outdid the other and made a still bigger blaze! The ground was covered with dry sticks and pine cones and the fire leaped along with giant strides. Then it did a cruel thing. It caught hold of a living pine tree and thrust its fiery tongues deep into its bark. After that it took no heed whether a tree was living or dead. Whole families of tender green needles blazed up together, and when they fled into the arms of their relatives for shelter started them blazing too.

Nyoda, waking suddenly from a dream, sat up and saw the glare in the woods, and blew the alarm call on the bugle. In an instant the girls were awake and saw what was the matter. Getting quickly into their bloomers and sweaters instead of white middies they dipped into the river to get wet all over and then ran for the blazing woods. The fire was spreading alarmingly through the underbrush, and Nyoda set half the girls to clearing away the dry wood in the path of the flames while the others threw water into the blazing trees and beat the fire with wet ponchos. Sahwah worked like a Trojan with her hatchet, cutting down young trees bodily and hurling them out of the way. Every now and then a shower of blazing pine needles would envelop the workers and if it had not been for their wet clothes and hair they would have been in constant peril of blazing up themselves. It took several hours of the liveliest fighting before the last spark was extinguished and the danger past.

"Now then," said Nyoda when they had washed their blackened hands and faces, "who had charge of putting out the camp fire last night?"

"I did," said Migwan in a small voice.

"You, a Fire Maker!" said Nyoda, unbelievingly. That was all she said, but Migwan crept away, overwhelmed with shame. The privilege of tending the fire was counted an honor among the Winnebagos. To let a fire go out that you had been set to watch, or to leave a fire not properly extinguished was a disgrace.

Migwan learned an effective lesson that night about the consequences of dreaming when she should have been doing.

Nyoda thought that the girls would be tired out the next morning after their strenuous midnight exercise, and planned to let them sleep several hours later than usual. But at the first appearance of the sun on the river they were wide awake and impatient to get up. Pulling downstream seemed like play after having come up, and going through the rapids with the current was a delirious delight. All that was necessary was to keep the canoe headed straight. Migwan paddled on the trip home and Hinpoha sat in the bottom of the boat doing beadwork. "Hi, you, up in front," called the girls in the sailing canoe, "look at the way the wind is filling out our sails." Hinpoha turned to look, and s.h.i.+fted her weight, which was considerable, to the side of the canoe. The result was inevitable and in a moment the three girls were in the river. The water was not very deep here and they were able to touch bottom. Migwan and Gladys set to work righting the canoe and fis.h.i.+ng out the ponchos. The current caught Hinpoha's bead loom and it went sailing merrily downstream, with Hinpoha in hot pursuit. The girls shouted as they watched her.

"How did you happen to tip over?" asked Nyoda, when they were back in the canoe and the line had proceeded again. "I just looked back to see your sails," said Hinpoha, "like this." She craned her neck back to show Nyoda what she had done, and Presto!

over went the canoe again. "Isn't the water delicious?" she cried, lazily swimming in with a poncho in tow.

"Let's all go in," said Sahwah, "we have our bathing suits on anyway." Nyoda gave the word, and the girls hopped into the water like frogs, swam around for a while and then got back into the canoes, where the sun soon dried their bathing suits.

And so they paddled on, mile after mile, singing, laughing, talking, following the winding course of the river down to its mouth, and back into the wide waters of Loon Lake, toward the camp which they had come to speak of as "home." The boys of Mountain Lake Camp, having their swimming hour, saw the three canoes pa.s.sing out in the lake and heard the song of the girls floating in on the wind, as their voices kept time to the dipping of their paddles:

"Oh, the laughing life, Oh, the joyous strife As my paddlers, struggling, bend low, And the big rocks sing To the River King, And the waters forever flow!"

CHAPTER XII.

NOW OUR CAMP FIRE'S BURNING LOW.

"It doesn't seem possible that the summer is nearly over and we are going home next week," said Migwan. "It seems like only yesterday that we came. And yet, somehow I feel as if we had always been here together. Won't it seem queer, not to be eating and sleeping together any more?" The Winnebagos were taking a walk down the road that ran along beside the woods, seeking specimens of flowers and weeds. They could not help noticing the changes in the trees and flowers along the way. Many of the leaves were already crimson, and the wild asters were blooming in profusion everywhere. The air had the cool, crisp clearness of autumn. The sky had become that deep blue which marks the pa.s.sing of summer, and the clouds seemed thicker in texture. The girls drank in the air in great draughts like strong new wine, rejoicing in the glorious weather, yet it made them feel sad, because it meant that this most wonderful of all summers was very near its end. This would probably be their last nature walk, and the girls were taking a sample of every growing thing that looked in the least promising, and snapshotting all the dear familiar scenes, to be taken home and shown to friends, and the events connected with them lived over again in the telling!

Nyoda and Sahwah, covering the ground with their swift stride, soon left the others far behind. "We really ought to wait for the girls," said Nyoda, coming to a halt when she discovered that they were so far in the lead, and seating herself on a stone fence she helped herself to the blackberries which grew against it, and held out a handful to Sahwah. Opposite them was an old, tumble-down house, weatherbeaten and bare of paint, its empty window sashes gaping like eyeless sockets. The girls had named it the "Haunted House," and wove many a tale of mystery about it.

Beside it was an apple orchard, its trees dying of old age, and under one of them was a grave with a headstone. Nyoda swung her heels against the stone wall and contemplated this gaunt remnant of other days. She glanced down the road to see if the girls were coming. They were not yet in sight.

"Sahwah," she said in a tone that proclaimed a sudden inspiration, "I 'stump' you to go into the haunted house and make ghostly noises when the girls come along." Sahwah needed no urging to undertake a mission of this kind. Hand in hand the two stole across the road and climbed in one of the windows of the house. The door, locked years ago, was still holding its ground against intruders. The room they stepped into was empty save for an old spinning wheel, thick with dust and cobwebs, which stood in the corner. The floor echoed hollowly to their footsteps and instinctively they rose up on tiptoe, to stop the noise. Thus they walked cautiously about making believe that they were followed by ghostly footsteps, and clinging to each other in mock terror. There was a closed door at one end of the room and Nyoda whispered dramatically: "In one minute that door will swing open and a ghostly hand will be thrust in."

She had hardly finished speaking when the door did swing open, and a hand clutching a paint brush came through. Nyoda gave a fine shriek and fell over backwards as if fainting. The hand was followed by a body and a head. "What the devil!" said a voice.