The Girl Scouts at Camp Comalong Part 4

"No, certainly not," said Louise. "I don't have anything to do with the food. That goes with the kitchen work."

"And whose work is that?" Corene laid down her hammer to ask.

"Whose?" asked the others.

"Everyone's," came back Corene. "We must take turns at that, but we must make arrangements for the 'eats' right away. Who has been down to the spring?"

Everyone had.

"Could we hang our b.u.t.ter and meat in pails in the water?" asked Corey. She had seen this done in a real Scout camp.

"We might, but what about the animals?" inquired Cleo.

"Oh, we can get real strong pails and stake them down so that small animals can't touch the food," said the leader.

"And have horrid, old scaly snakes sniffing it!" protested Grace.

"We wouldn't eat the sniffs," retorted Corene. "At any rate we must have a cool place for food and can't think of ice. I wonder what the Norms do?"

"Oh, the Normal camp girls," explained Cleo. "I think they have grub traps set in the spring, but it runs directly past their door."

"It's right over by that rock, isn't it?" asked Corene.

"Yes, there's a nice little puddley basin in that big stone," replied Julia.

"Then it's easy to fix. We can run it right along here," Corene was drawing a very crooked line in the trampled earth, with her homemade broom handle.

"How can we bring the spring over here?" scoffed Louise. "It goes straight down the other way."

"We'll dig a little ditch, of course," insisted Corene. "Or if we're too busy to do it, and we probably will be for days to come, we'll get the boys to make one for us. The earth isn't rooty here, see, it's nice and soft," she poked up a ditch in ill.u.s.tration. "And it will be splendid to have running water at the door for other purposes."

"Corey, you ought to be a plumber!" roared Grace, precipitating one of those unwarranted outbursts of mirth that always ended work for the time being. The girls were just like that, and they couldn't seem to help it.

The appearance of a surprised bunny on a stump checked the hilarity, and the inexperienced ones wanted to throw cracker crumbs to the stubby-tailed, long-eared little animal.

"And make a house pet of it!" exclaimed Corene. "Can you imagine that bunny stealing your fudge, Louise? He wouldn't know it was stealing if you made him 'to home' like that."

"Seems to me," Louise frowned, "knowledge always makes one snippy. I don't mean that you are snippy, Corey dear, but to turn away a nice, little, gray bunny, because we know he will come again if we treat him decently. Doesn't it seem a lot nicer to be sociable and take the consequences?"

"It does not!" exclaimed Cleo. "Because animals are made to be subject to man, not to be his equal. Here, Master Sammy Littletail, take yourself off. Shoo!" and Cleo tossed a harmless little pine cone after the scurrying bunny.

"Oh, all right. If that's the way you feel about it I suppose we will have to shoo everything. But just the same, I left a nice square hole in the back of my outdoor buffet, for a bird sanctuary!" Louise confessed naively.

"Someone's coming!" announced Grace. "Let me straighten my doormat."

A young woman in camp uniform--the service suit of skirt and blouse--came up from the roadway. She was smiling broadly and sent that greeting on ahead to the Scouts.

"Welcome!" she called out. "We have all been wondering why no Girl Scouts came up to our hills, and now our wonder is answered. Here you are!"

"Yes," admitted Corene, trying to straighten out a very badly wrinkled blouse. "We are just a junior troop, we organized ourselves, you know," she finished frankly.

"How could you do that?" questioned the young lady, seating herself on the biggest and flattest camp-stump. It was regarded as a regular seat, of course.

"Oh, we are all Scouts at home, you know, and we understand all the--qualifications," Corene hesitated at this word, fearful of an accusing glance from someone who might call it a bit big for a junior to use.

"But have you no leader? No director nor counsellor?" queried the stranger.

"I have just come from a big camp," said the little Corene, a bit uncertainly.

A rather critical look was swept over the Bobbie at that statement.

"Yet you are too young to be a leader," pressed the tall girl.

"I'm fifteen, but we hadn't quite finished all our plans yet,"

admitted the spokesman.

"We have grown up sisters," tossed in Grace.

"Do they understand Scouting?" These questions were not asked in any but the most friendly tone. "I am Marge Mackin of Norm Camp, over there, and I have been a Scout leader in the city. I called to say I would be glad to help you in any way----"

"Oh, could you come over to our camp?" asked Julia, impulsively. "We have plenty of room."

Miss Mackin rippled a girlish laugh. "That's lovely!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sure I never thought of thrusting myself on you this way, but if I can really be of service----"

"Indeed you can," declared Corene. "We have just gone ahead planning camp and expecting something would turn up to help us out of the director difficulty. Of course, our mothers would have sent an older sister, perhaps changing the force each week, but it is so much better to have a real camp leader. If you can come we have saved a counsellor's cot," she finished.

"Have you, really? What wise little girls," Miss Mackin was glancing around with unhidden admiration.

"Won't you come in and inspect?" invited Corene.

"How splendid!" enthused the caller, pa.s.sing in under the tent. "And how very practically s.h.i.+p-shape! You do show you are familiar with real camping. And where did you get such splendid equipment?"

The camp's history was outlined and its prospects forecast, while Miss Mackin listened approvingly.

"And you really want a resident manager?" she asked finally.

"We do, indeed," declared the spokesman Corene, who, more than the others, realized the value of the unexpected offer.

"Then suppose I accept, conditionally, of course, and we write our application to headquarters? All being Scouts we might better come under direct authority, don't you think so?"

"Certainly," chorused the Bobbies.

"But we won't have to change our name or anything, will we?" rather anxiously asked Grace.

"Oh, no, even if there is another Bobolink troop your affix of 'junior' will, I think, make that all right. Also you may be called the Bobbies, that's a handy little name for an emergency summer troop.

I think I'm just as crazy about all this as you are. I dearly love Scout camping, and try to get our young ladies to adhere to it. But you see, they are not little girls, and cannot always see the fun in good team work."

Miss Mackin was unmistakably attractive and very girlish herself. She had the smile called "wide," and it lit up her whole face with rare flashes of dormant humor. The girls knew instantly she would be the very leader for them, and they felt like hugging the prospect.