As Mrs. Van Vorst had generously provided so many sleeping accommodations, there were only three tents to be erected, an old canvas tent which the doctor had loaned, an Indian tepee belonging to the brother of one of the Orioles, and a natty little affair made of heavy cotton sheeting. It is needless to say that this was the pride of Helen’s and Nathalie’s hearts, the tent they had wrestled with through many toilsome hourson the rear lawn, with Fred Tyson doing duty as a master tent-maker.
When the tents were erected with openings to the East, in a row by the water, backed by a belt of woodland, whose pungent odors added a zest to the girls’ ideals of the camp life, Nathalie and Helen hurried to their tent to unpack. The big packing-box which had served as a trunk for two was hastily turned on its narrowest side, with open side to the tent, and then with hammer and nails converted into a combination arrangement of book-case and dresser, the top having a piece of white shelf oilcloth tacked on it.
Here pincushions, hair-pin trays, brushes, and various toilet articles, with cologne, lotion, and medicine bottles—the last in case of need—were hastily bestowed. On the upper shelf books were stored—for the story hour—while the other shelves were quickly filled with all sorts of knick-knacks, things they just had to have, even in the wilderness, as Helen had affirmed.
Two ropes, one on each side of the tent, were fastened up so that each girl could have a handy place to dispose of superfluous articles of wearing apparel. There was also a smaller one near the soap-box with its little tin pitcher and bowl, to serve as a towel-rack. After hanging a mirror for mutual use and tacking on the floor between the cots a pink and blue cotton rug—Mrs. Page’s idea and gift—they started on the beds.These were real camping affairs, and would ordinarily have meant hard labor, but Peter, who had been let into the secret before he left Westport, had already cut eight logs, four to a bed frame, one on each side of the tent, and had brought the dry evergreen boughs.
With the boughs the girls filled the frames, and after stuffing two ticking bags with dry leaves and grass, they placed them on the beds, and covered them with rubber sheets and blankets. They were then made up with sheets and double blankets, and then after throwing a number of sofa pillows about—to be used at night for pillows—the tent-makers were ready to hold an impromptu reception to their Pioneer friends.
Nathalie now played the part of town crier and rushed hither and thither inviting the guests to their camp nest in the woods. The girls quickly gathered and, after due examination, expressed by cries of praise their admiration of the handiness and deftness displayed by the two girls, and the first tent feast was held. To be sure, it was only crackers and fruit left from the girls’ lunch-boxes, but they filled the bill, so that when the bugle sounded its clarion blast, as Lillie expressed it, the pangs of hunger being appeased, the girls all hastened with joyful steps to Mrs. Morrow’s bungalow to hold their first Pioneer Rally.
Mrs. Morrow, as presiding officer, in a short space of time was able to despatch considerable camp business, the girls having had so many discussions thattheir plans were matured and no time was lost in needless talk. It was quickly settled to name the camp “Laff-a-Lot,” to govern it as a city, with the girls as citizens with power to elect their own officials, which meant a mayor, a board of aldermen, a justice of the court as well as a clerk and an attorney in case of need, and the squads.
Mrs. Morrow was immediately chosen mayor, and the squads elected. There was the Coast Squad, composed of two Pioneers whose duty it was to sound the bugle for taps at six, for a dip in the Lake at quarter past, the call for breakfast at seven and the succeeding meals, for bathing drill at eleven, and all other calls required by camp regulations. This squad was also to see that the coast was kept clear of débrís, that the bathers observed all rules, and was to give the alarm and act in command of the rescue committee in times of danger.
The Tent Squad was to see that the girls kept their tents in regulation order,—each girl to make her own bed and so on,—and that all sanitary rules were carried out according to schedule.
The Grub Squad meant two cooks, a chief and an assistant, and two helpers or waitresses. Each girl, of course, was required to bring her own plate, cup, saucer, bowl, knife, and fork, and see that they were washed, dried, and placed on the shelf, as well as to wash her own drying-towel.
The Rally Squad was composed of one person—considered the most important member of camp—to act as officer of the day by planning with the mayor the day’s program, reporting this at breakfast, and seeing that all notices, as well as the schedule for the day’s events, were duly written on the bulletin each morning.
The Board of Aldermen was made up of the first member of each Squad. All officials, with the exception of the mayor and court officers, were to serve for three days only, and the members of all squads were to be chosen according to their qualifications for the work as determined by the number of merit badges.
As soon as the Rally was over, the girls made a rush for the Lake, as every one was wild to go on its gleaming surface that shone under the rays of the dipping sun like a silver shield, burnished with the golden red of the West.
But Helen, who declared it was too late to enjoy that pleasure as it was so near supper time, was rudely interrupted by Lillie Bell, who had been peering with intent eyes across the water. Suddenly she gave a low cry and pointed to a solitary figure on the opposite bank dragging a row-boat from the water.
Instantly all eyes were riveted in that direction as each girl vainly tried to decide whether the figure belonged to a man or a woman. “Oh, I know!” screamed the Sport frantically after a short stareopposite. “Girls, yes, it’s a Scout! See he has on a khaki suit, and his staff, oh, where do you suppose he could have come from!” she said, looking up at the girls with delighted inquiry in her sparkling eyes.
“O fiddle!” exclaimed Lillie squelchingly. “You have got scouts on the brain! Where would a scout come from up here in these wilds?”
But Edith was not to be gainsaid and had flown post-haste up to the Morrows’ bungalow to reappear a few moments later with a field glass. Raising it she began to yell triumphantly, “There, girls—I’m right—it is a scout! a real scout!” In a moment she was surrounded by a bevy of girls, each one begging for the loan of the glasses, but Edith was whimsical, and refusing to comply handed the glasses to Helen, who, after a calm survey of the bank on the other side of the Lake, declared that Edith was right and that it was a scout.
“Oh, do you think—” exclaimed some one. But no one stopped to think, for at that moment the clear notes of the bugle announced supper, driving all thoughts of scouts from the heads of the famished girls as with a cheer of delight they made a swift rush for cup, plate, saucer, and headed for the dining-room.
It was a tired lot of girls who, with sharpened appetites but dismayed faces, gazed at the slim array of eatables that confronted them at this, their first camp meal. Nathalie made a wry face, but as she heard Helen’s reminder that every one was to be satisfied even if she ate tacks, she smiled in attempted contentment and started in on mush.
But tacks were not to be on the menu that night, for Peter suddenly appeared, and with his best bow presented a big platter of cold chicken with Mrs. Van Vorst’s compliments. Everything now went as merrily as a wedding feast. Really, it was surprising how that chicken lasted, for the girls had attacked it with grim determination. Nathalie half suspected that Peter had a secret supply hidden under the table, for every one had all she wanted and still there was more.
Supper was soon over and, then after each girl had washed her own table-ware and laid it in its place, they hied themselves down to the water’s edge. Here, in sweaters and caps—as the air was chilly—they listened to the crooning melodies of nature, and watched for life on the opposite shore—reminded again of that scout—and talked, well, just the things that a lot of happy girls would discuss with the prospect of three glorious weeks in the open before them.
A trill of song from a hermit thrush in the woods near-by stirred the hearts of the music-lovers and soon the campers were singing, “Suwanee River,” to Lillie’sthrumming accompaniment on the mandolin. Then came “Tenting on the Old Camp Ground,” “Oh, My Darling Clementine,” and a host of songs familiar and dear to the heart of youth.
As they ended the last line of “Bring Back My Bonnie to Me,” every one suddenly sat up and took notice, while an impetuous one called out, “Oh, what was that?”
“Some one is mocking us!” added another listener.
“Oh, nonsense,” laughed Helen, whose ear for music was not keen, “that’s an echo!”
But it proved to be no echo, for as the girls started in again to sing they found that if they stopped suddenly, the voices, which they now recognized as coming from the other shore, would continue with the song. This created no end of laughter among the girls, and their surprise and amusement increased as they recognized that their friends on the other side of the Lake laughed when they laughed, as if in mockery.
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” suggested Kitty, “let’s give the Pioneer yell and see if they answer.” This was no sooner suggested than it was done, but not a sound was heard, no, not even an echo in reply.
“Well, they can’t be scouts,” said an Oriole, “or they would answer in some way.”
“Let’s sing, ‘We’re Pioneers,’ and then they’ll know who we are, anyway,” some one proposed, a little more cheerily.
This proposition met with favor, and the girls were soon singing with a zest and verve that deserved a reward, but as before a dead silence greeted their efforts.
The campers felt inconsolable, for some of them had already begun to dream of the fun they would have if there were some jolly scouts about, especially if they proved as chivalrous and as manly as the scouts at Westport. As the girls discussed ways and means of making these strange neighbors reveal who they were, suddenly from the other shore came in stentorian tones, evidently through a megaphone, “Be prepared!” This startling announcement was immediately followed by a chorus of male voices singing with hearty gusto, “Zing-a-Zing! Bom! Bom!” to the accompaniment of a loud sound, as if every one was pounding on a tin pan.
The girls sat stunned with surprise for a moment and then Edith cried, “Why, they can’t be scouts after all, for that is not the salute used by the Westport Scouts.”
“Huh! but that is just what they are—scouts,” cried one of the Orioles quickly, “for that is the national salute. My brother has a Scout book and I have seen their call.”
“Well, they’re not Westport Scouts, that’s one sure thing,” voiced one of the girls who had been dreaming.
“What difference does that make,” cried Lillie, “aslong as they are scouts? But don’t you think we girls ought to make some return, hadn’t we better sing our Pioneer—” But before the girls could answer they heard the scout salute again. As they clapped an encore, the Sport blowing the bugle to add to the demonstration of praise, their neighbors broke into song.
“Oh, it is a song to us, a serenade!” ejaculated one of the girls; and then as each one grew silent they heard:
“Welcome! Welcome! sisters dear,As we round our fire’s cheerWe wish you luck in camp so fineSweet with birch and wooded pine.Pleasure and joy attend each day,As by the Lake you make your stay!”
“Oh, isn’t that just dandy?” “If we could only tell who they were!” But these exclamations came to an end as Nathalie cried, “Girls, let’s shout our new call, don’t you know the one we made up so as to salute the scouts? Now, ready!” and with a “One! two! three!” the girls’ voices rang out over the water as they chorused:
“Ragglety! Pagglety! Rah! Rah! Rah!You’re welcome scouts with a Ha! Ha! Ha!Comrades and friends, we’ll make the woods humWhen you to Camp Laff-a-Lot come.For your wishes we’ll give you three cheers,Hurrah for Scouts and Girl Pioneers!”
“Why, Nathalie, you changed the words!” cried one or two slow ones as they perceived that the girlhad substituted certain words that were more appropriate to the occasion than the ones they had learned.
Nathalie only laughed, and waved her hand for silence as the little company of merry, fun-loving girls listened to the noise their neighbors were making. Certainly it was a medley of sounds, for it appeared as if horns, tin pans, and just about everything capable of making a racket had been called into service in their appreciation of the fair ones’ ready reply to their song.
Mrs. Morrow appeared at this moment with the announcement that it was nine o’clock, and according to camp rules all Pioneers were to be in bed by that hour, so the girls sounded a parting cheer and then hurried to their tents. The few who loitered, as if reluctant to leave their friends across the lake, heard an old-time good-night song with one or two variations in words that added to its charms ring out clearly:
“Good-night, campers,Good-night campers,Good-night campers,We’re going to leave you now!Merrily we roll along, roll along, roll along;Merrily we roll along, o’er the dark blue sea.”
A few moments before six the next morning Nathalie opened her eyes, yawned drowsily, and then rolled over to see Helen staring at her from the opposite bed with wide-open eyes.
“Oh, I have had such a delicious sleep,” she cried. “I don’t believe I wakened from the time I touched thepillow. Helen, isn’t it just too lovely up here in these woods? Did you hear that whippoorwill toot just after we got into bed? And these bough beds, aren’t they the coziest—”
“Well, you’ll get coziest with a vengeance, Blue Robin,” was Helen’s terse reply, “if you don’t get into your bathing-suit—” Helen ended with a shrill scream as the bugle’s blast sounded with startling clearness in the still morning air.
But Nathalie was already half-way into her suit. The last button was caught. “There, I’m ready before you, Miss Poke!” she taunted gleefully, as the second call sounded. The two girls tripped lightly across the open space in front of the tents thickly strewn with pine needles and thus on down to the boathouse pier.
Just a moment and a slim figure was seen leaping through the air, then Nathalie arose like a mermaid from the sea, blowing and puffing the water from her mouth as she floated for a moment on her back and swam gracefully back to the bank. As she reached shallow water she stood up and waved her hand to a group of shivering ones on the bank crying, “Oh, come on, kiddies!
“Sure, it’s cold!” she nodded to a faint remonstrance from a timorous one, “but you’ll get heated if you’ll take the plunge!”
Out from her dip, with the wish that it could have been longer, she hurried to her tent; after a rub camethe dressing, the picking up of her clothes, the putting her bed to air, and then the call for breakfast.
After this meal came the event of the day, the naming of the camp, the tents, and the boats. Camp duties were soon disposed of and then there was a general stampede to Mrs. Morrow’s bungalow, where the Sport, as chairman of this committee, stood waving the Stars and Stripes on the roof of the veranda.
A cheer arose a few moments later when its bright colors fluttered gently to and fro in the morning wind from the flag staff that had been hoisted over the Director’s abiding-place, and the girls, quickly forming in line, gave the flag salute. The Star Spangled Banner was then sung with a heartiness that found its echo in the woods, the very leaves on the trees seeming to rustle in reverence to the country’s honored emblem.
The campers now gathered before Mrs. Van Vorst’s bungalow, where, from a high flagstaff erected by Peter, a white flag fluttered gracefully to the breezes, disclosing in red letters the words, “Camp Laff-a-Lot.” Beneath this flag curled a smaller one, also white, bearing in blue letters, “The Girl Pioneers of America.”
Some one was just about to mount a ladder placed against the flagstaff when Nathalie, with sudden thought, turned and whispered to Mrs. Morrow, who immediately signaled to Helen. Helen nodded as she listened to her Director, and then stepping forwardstood before Nita who, with her mother and Ellen, was a joyful spectator of this camp demonstration. A sudden look of delight overspread her face as she heard what Helen had to say, and then after a hurried assent from Mrs. Van Vorst, Nita with the help of Peter had mounted the ladder, holding a bottle of water in her hand.
A swing of the bottle, a crash of glass, a stream of water trickling down the pole, and Nita in a voice somewhat faint at first, but that grew louder as she caught Nathalie’s eye, cried, “Summer camp of the Girl Pioneers of America, I name thee, Camp Laff-a-Lot!” Wild bursts of applause now broke forth, even Ellen and Peter doing their share, the former tearing off her apron and flapping it vigorously, while the latter brandished his hat hilariously, stopping every moment or so to rub the back of his hand across his eyes. “Sure,” as he afterwards confessed to Nathalie, “it was enough to make any one weep with joy to see Miss Nita spilling all over with happiness!”
As the Pioneers hastened to the boat-house they saw a diminutive figure standing on the top of its little square cupola. With many flourishes of her bottle Carol—who had been elected to this honor—chimed jubilantly, “Boat-house, in memory of the ship that crossed the unknown sea to carry the founders of this nation to its shores, I now name thee, ‘The Mayflower’!”
And so the naming continued, the little log summer-house being honored by the name of Ann Burras, a pioneer of the Jamestown colony, known as the first white bride in America. The tent loaned by Mrs. Van Vorst was dubbed “The Three Guardian Angels,” in appreciation of the services of Ann Drummond, Sarah Cottin, and Mrs. Cheisman, also of the Jamestown company, sometimes known as “The White Apron Brigade,” as during the Bacon rebellion they were placed in front of a trench where Bacon’s men were digging, to prevent Governor Berkeley from firing on the Fort.
The “Grub House” was to be known as the “Common House,” a most appropriate name, the campers declared, as it contained their food and ammunition, just as the little log hut known by that name held the necessities to sustain and defend the lives of the Pilgrims in the Plymouth settlement.
The doctor’s army tent was named the “Three Margarets,” to honor Margaret Brent of Maryland, the first woman suffragist, Margaret Draper, the first woman to publish a newspaper, and Margaret Duncan, the first of her sex in the new world to engage in mercantile life. Helen and Nathalie’s tent was to be known as the “Two Anns,” out of respect to Ann Hutchinson, the first club woman, and Ann Bradstreet, the first American poetess.
The boats were quickly honored with the namesPriscilla,Mary Chilton,Annetje Jans, andPolly Prevoorst,while shady retreats, lofty trees, and rocky coves were named anew to do homage to those women who helped their good sires build the foundation of this great Republic, by being faithful, enduring wives and mothers.
At eleven o’clock the girls assembled on the shores of the Lake for a life-saving drill. Forming in line at a given signal, each girl quickly unfastened her red necktie, and turning swiftly to the right tied one end of it in a square knot to her neighbor’s. This red life-line was then thrown to the sinker—as the girls dubbed Edith, who was playing the part of the person drowning. She hurriedly grabbed this necktie rope and was drawn ashore by her comrades.
The girls found that this drill not only made them keen and alert, training them to keep cool heads, but helped to give them reliance as well as courage, and—heaps of fun.
The bathers were now lined up for a swimming contest, each girl at the toot of the horn making a wild dash for the water, and swimming out as far as she could to the stake-boat, manned by the doctor, anchored some distance from shore. This contest was to determine not only who could swim, and the best swimmers, but those who had the greatest amount of strength and endurance, who would be able to train others not so competent.
Nathalie, who had spent a number of summers at aseaside resort and therefore was at home in the water, found to her surprise that she, Helen, and Edith were the three best swimmers of the campers. This was as much of a surprise to her as to the Pioneers, for, supposing that she was a swimmer of only average skill, she had never even told that she could swim.
Drills and contests being over, the girls were allowed to do as they liked, and so were soon gambolling about in the water, having the merriest time running races in the more shallow water, ducking one another, or teaching some more timid one to swim or dive.
Nathalie and Helen had rowed out some distance from shore and were practicing diving by jumping from the boat. “Now!” Helen would shout as they stood poised in the center, “One! Two! Three!” The next instant there would be a flash of pointed hands, a sweep of blue bathing-suits—like bluebirds skimming through the air—a splash, and then first one head would appear and then the other, each one blowing and puffing water from her eyes and nose like a porpoise.
“O dear,” exclaimed Nathalie suddenly as the two girls sat sunning themselves in the boat, “here comes the Sport. I wonder what she is up to now!”
But it was all in a morning’s fun, and the three girls were soon having fine sport as a diving team of three. Tired at last, they settled for a short rest, Helen and Nathalie laughing merrily as they watched Lillie Belltrying to induce Carol to do something more than wet her feet. Suddenly there came a shove, and a second later the two girls went splashing head-foremost into the water!
A few moments and they bobbed up, not at all serenely, as they sputtered and gasped, struggling to eject the water from eyes and noses. Helen, seeing Edith disporting herself some distance away, demanded with flashing eyes, “What did you do that for?” while Nathalie, whose cheeks were sea pink, sputtered between gasps, “Edith, I think you are just as mean as you can be!”
But the Sport was off, waving her hand at them derisively as she swam rapidly towards shore. The girls by this time had righted their cockle-shell, which they found floating right side up with the tide, and after clambering in Helen grabbed the oars, exclaiming wrathfully, “Oh, how I would like to get even with her for that!”
“So would I!” echoed her friend. “It does seem as if the imp himself was in that girl sometimes. But wait, I’ll get one on her yet, see if I don’t.”
Full of the ozone of the forest and animated by that spirit of exploration that always inspires one in a new place, directly after lunch the Pioneers with staffs, knapsacks, and note-books, lined up for an afternoon tramp. To vary the adventure it had been decided to name it a salmagundi hike, which meant a tramp ofobservation, each girl aiming to see how many things she could observe, birds, animals, flowers, or leaves, in fact, anything that was to be seen in the field or woods.
Nathalie had prepared for the expedition in glad anticipation, being particularly anxious to get in touch with so many things that she lacked of nature’s many lores, but when she caught sight of the disappointed face of Nita, who was not, as yet, equal to a hike her spirits sank to zero.
Somehow her conscience would not be downed as it urged her to atone in some way to Nita for the many things that she was forced to be deprived of in her young girlhood. “No, I do not believe it is my place to stay with her,” argued Nathalie’s naughty self, “for I have already given up a great deal of time and fun in qualifying her to become a Pioneer. And then if I once begin by staying with her she will want me to remain all the time, and I shall never have a bit of fun.”
But after a short inward struggle Nathalie pleaded that she was tired, and declared she was going to remain at home and have a good cozy chat with Nita.
The joy that shown on Nita’s face at this declaration compensated her for her sacrifice, and she was just trying to think what she could do to make the time pass pleasantly for the girl when a sudden loud shout sounded from the woods. Before the girls could questionas to what it was a chorus of boyish voices were heard shouting:
“Ready! Ready! Scout! Scout! Scout!Good turn daily. Shout! Shout! Shout!”
For one moment the girls stared in dazed amazement, why—oh! that was the salute call of the Westport Scouts! But all thought came to an end a minute later as a troop of boys in brown suddenly appeared at a bend of the road leading from the woods. As they spied the Pioneers they broke into wild shouts and whistles, energetically waving handkerchiefs, staffs, anything they could muster, while the foremost one, no other than Dr. Homer, twirled his hat over his head hilariously.
In a few moments the scout mystery was solved as the girls stood surrounded by the Eagle Patrol of Westport, every one talking eagerly, some telling how they came to be there, while others were having great sport as they teased the girls about how nicely they had fooled them. It soon developed that the doctor and his wife were in the secret; in fact, Mrs. Morrow said that the doctor had chuckled so when he saw how mystified the girls were when they heard the calls from across the Lake, that she feared he would spring the surprise before it was time.
Yes, the scouts of Westport, who had been thinkingof a three weeks’ tramp in some place not too far from the city, after hearing how Mrs. Van Vorst had invited the Pioneers to camp at Eagle Lake, had gone to that lady, and after due inquiries had made their plans to camp at the same time as the girls, only on the opposite shore of the Lake.
Finding that the girls were bound for a tramp, the scouts, through Dr. Homer, begged permission to accompany them. The girls quickly gave their assent, and in a short space the hikers set out for a survey of the land, all but Fred Tyson, who lingered at Nathalie’s side as if waiting for her to join them.
Seeing, however, that Nathalie made no attempt to follow the others, he asked with puzzled eyes, “What’s the matter, Miss Blue Robin, aren’t you going to hike?”
Nathalie choked for a moment, then gaining control of her emotions, with an attempt at a smile returned, “Why, no, I’m tired, you know we have been working awfully hard ever since we came—getting the camp in shape—” she had caught a glimpse of Nita’s keen eyes—“so I thought I’d just stay at home and rest with Nita. You know, she can’t stand a long walk.” This was said in a lower tone.
Fred’s face showed disappointment, and then he cried boyishly, “Oh, I say, Miss Nathalie, you’ll miss all the fun!” Then, as if half suspecting what might be the cause of Nathalie’s staying at home, he said,“As for Miss Nita, if she wants to come with us we’ll fix it so she won’t have to walk a step!”
Putting his fingers to his mouth he emitted a sharp whistle, which two scouts lagging in the rear heard and immediately turned about and retraced their steps. “Here,” continued Fred, “you fellows improvise a stretcher to carry Miss Nita so she can hike with us!”
Nita’s eyes began to gleam, but Mrs. Van Vorst approaching from the other end of the veranda at this moment, and hearing of the proposed plan of navigation, demurred, thanking the boys most graciously for their kindness, but declining to let Nita go, claiming that it would be too much for her that warm day.
Fred, thus forced to be content, after a lingering look of regret raised his cap and then hurriedly joined the party who were already disappearing in the winding path of the woods.
Nathalie, with an unconscious sigh, turned away. O dear, it did seem mean to have to give up that walk. It had been hard enough to win the first battle over the temptation to go, but this second one had seemed even harder. But immediately seeing that she was a great baby to let a little disappointment mar the pleasure of the beautiful day, she turned with smiling eyes to the princess, and suggested that they have a nice little row to one of the tiny islands in the center of the Lake.
This, Nita was very glad to do, and so with notebooks and pencils, and with the remark that they couldhave a nice little salmagundi hike all by their lone selves, they started for the boat-house.
And indeed, Nathalie and her little friend spent a most enjoyable afternoon, for, as she afterwards declared to Helen, “It was lovely and cool down on that little island with the green trees and shady coves. And do you know,” she continued, “I was so surprised, for Nita is a most observant little person. Why, she knows the names of many of the grasses and wood flowers, and the birds—she knows their names, can tell what birds are nesting in August and any number of interesting things about nature. I am sure she will make a most wonderful little Pioneer, after she becomes acquainted with the girls.”
Of course Helen had many things to tell about the salmagundi hike, and the different objects they had seen and noted on their tramp. She had taken notes and Nathalie was invited to take a peep at them some time, Helen suggesting that she might find them of some help later on. The scouts, she said, had been most kind and had told them lots of interesting things, particularly about tracking the footprints of animals.
“Well,” declared Nathalie as Helen finished telling of the good times they had had, “I have had two good times, instead of your one, for I had a fine time with Nita, and then I have had the coziest of chats with you, which has proved almost as good as if I had been with you on the hike.”
A week had passed, and although the novelty of many of the activities and pleasures of this life in the open had dulled, every moment proved one of joy. Drills, contests, sports, hikes, and various entertainments had merged so evenly, one into the other, that tasks had lost their irksomeness and play had received an added zest.
To be sure, some unfortunate accidents had happened; Grace had cut her hand when opening a can of tomatoes, Carol had been stung by some mysterious insect so severely that even the doctor was puzzled, and one of the Orioles had sprained her ankle. But these mishaps had been received with true camp fortitude—the Pioneer spirit, Helen called it—and had only served as object lessons in the First Aid to the Injured talks given by Dr. Morrow, thus giving Helen and Kitty a chance to display their expertness in the triangular, the four-tailed, and many other kinds of bandages.
Hammers, saws, and hatchets were in great demand one morning—the girls all busy making stilts, someto show their scout friends that they could handle men’s tools, while others were qualifying for first-class Pioneers—when Lillie appeared. With woebegone face she reported to Nathalie, who was serving as her assistant on the Grub committee, that there was no milk.
“No milk?” ejaculated the girl. “Why, wasn’t the milkman here this morning?”
“Sure,” nodded Lillie, “but that Oriole girl—Nannie Plummer—dropped some swill into the milk can. She mistook it for the garbage pail—” Lillie’s eyes glinted humorously—“she was so busy expressing her admiration for that Will Hopper, you know the scout with the languishing eyes, as Helen calls them.”
Nathalie’s face expressed dismay. “Oh, what shall we do?” she almost wailed; “we have got to have milk for that pudding, and—”
“To be sure,” laconically returned Lillie, “and you will have to go and get some.”
“Get some?” echoed Nathalie faintly; “where?”
“At the farm-house, you know the place—with the red barn—on the road to Boonton.”
“But there isn’t time for me to walk there and back before dinner,” protested the girl somewhat wrathfully, “on this hot day, too!”
“No, but you can take Edith’s bicycle, and go and get back in no time.”
“Oh, but it is hot!” ejaculated Nathalie, some fifteen minutes later, as with reddened, perspiring face she slowed up her wheel, and spying a mossy bank overlooking a brook meandering beneath a group of willows, jumped to the ground. As she was standing her wheel against a tree, a woman with a reddish handkerchief tied over her head came up the bank. She started when she saw Nathalie, but instantly averting her eyes hurried on down the road in the direction of the farm-house where Nathalie was to get the milk.
The girl had thrown herself on the grassy slope and was fanning vigorously with her hat, when her eyes were arrested by something white lying under an overhanging bush near the brook. Perhaps she would not have stared so intently if she had not thought that she saw it move. Just at that moment a low wailing cry came to her ears.
Assured beyond doubt that the cry came from the bundle, she hurried down the slope, and a moment later was bending over a baby, who, on seeing the wondering face, looked up with innocent appeal in its wide blue eyes.
“Why, you dear,” cooed the girl, “how did you come here?” She looked up expecting to see some one to whom the baby belonged, but as there was no one in sight and she saw the little lip quiver pathetically, she gathered it up in her arms and chucking the dimpled chin began to jabber to it in baby language.
“Whom do you belong to, baby?” she questioned aloud, silently wondering if that tramp woman who had come up the bank could have been its mother. But that could hardly be, she pondered, for she looked like an Italian, while the baby was fair with tiny wisps of golden hair straying from beneath its neat white cap.
Reminded finally that the camp’s need of milk was urgent, she laid the baby down and ran along the bank first in one direction, and then the other, shouting and calling until her voice was hoarse. O dear, what should she do? She could not leave that dear thing there alone! Ah, she would take it with her to the farm-house, perhaps Mrs. Hansen might know something about it.
Carrying her find with one arm and trundling her wheel with the other hand, she arrived in a short space at her destination. But alas, she met with no satisfaction. Mrs. Hansen declared that in all probability the woman was a gypsy, as there was a settlement of them some miles beyond the town and that she had purposely deserted the baby. She also informed the girl in a most emphatic manner that she could not leave the child there as she had enough of her own to look after.
“But this is a white baby,” persisted Nathalie, “see, it is very fair!” showing the little puckered face, for by this time it had begun to whimper quite loudly.
“Poor waif!” exclaimed the farmer’s wife, “it is hungry!” Hastily getting a cup of milk she put it tothe mouth of the little one, whose fingers closed on it tightly as it drank greedily.
But feeding the baby did not soften Mrs. Hansen’s heart, and Nathalie was forced to see that there was nothing else to do but to carry the deserted one to camp with her. But how could she trundle a wheel, carry a five-quart can of milk, and the baby all at the same time? Poor Nathalie! she was in deep waters!
Mrs. Hansen, however, who was not unkindly, seeing the girl’s dilemma called her boy Joe, and giving him the milk and wheel told him to hurry with it to the camp, so that Nathalie would have her arms free to carry her charge.
Some time after the dinner hour Nathalie, tired, hot, hungry, and every muscle aching from weariness, arrived at the camp. She was immediately surrounded by the girls, who besieged her with questions as to the why and wherefore of her tardy appearance. But when their eyes lighted on the blue-eyed cherub, who had been blissfully sleeping the greater part of the girl’s three-mile tramp on a sunny road, they went wild with excitement.
Mrs. Morrow presently arrived on the scene and promptly driving Nathalie’s tormentors away, handed the infant to Ellen and Nita. Then she made the girl lie down in the hammock to cool off, while Helen and Grace rushed off to get her dinner.
As the girl, between bites, told of her strange adventure,she saw that it was not to prove as disastrous as she feared, for the little stranger had already captivated every member of the camp, even down to Peter, also Rosy, Mrs. Van Vorst’s black cook. Indeed, it was petted, hugged, and kissed so many times that Mrs. Morrow, fearing it would be brought to evil by so many caressing hands, then and there made rules as to how each girl should care for it.
They all declared that Nathalie’s finding that baby was providential, for one of the Pioneers that very morning had expressed the wish that they could find a baby in one of the farm-houses. They wanted to practice bathing and dressing it, as these were some of the qualifications necessary for a first-class Pioneer.
Although notices were posted in the post-offices of the towns, and also sent to several newspapers, advertising the fact that a baby had been found and was at Camp Laff-a-Lot, no one claimed it. The girls were delighted as they were enamored of their new toy, each one secretly hoping it could remain with them.
The girls had even begun to discuss the project of calling it the Girl Pioneer baby, and were deep in plans to raise money so they could have it taken care of and educated as such, when Mrs. Van Vorst avowed that if no mother appeared to claim it she would adopt it as her own.
This of course took away the girls’ hopes of having the little one for their own, as who could deny Mrs.Van Vorst and Nita what they so eagerly desired and what they were so able to do? In the meantime, Miss Camphelia—for so she had been christened—cooed, gurgled, and dimpled with delight at each new mother who bathed and dressed her in silent adoration of the tyrant of the camp.
Nathalie stirred restlessly, jumbled up her pillow, and then flopped over with a sigh. O dear, why couldn’t she go to sleep? It was not near time to get up!
“Nathalie Page, what ails you?” came in exasperated tone from the other bed. “You have been wiggling, bouncing, jumping, and sighing like a porpoise for half the night. For pity’s sake do go to sleep!”
Nathalie made no reply, assured that if she did she would betray what a baby she was.
“What does ail you anyway?” persisted Helen in a softer tone. “Have you been doing the green-apple act like Carol, and—”
“Oh, it’s just Nita,” replied the girl dolefully. “You see it is this way, Helen. I told Mrs. Van Vorst that if Nita could mingle with girls about her own age it would do her a world of good.” Nathalie sat up in bed and began to hug her knees. “So, you see, I feel responsible in a measure to see that she gets a good time, but dear me, she is just having a horrible time!”
“How do you know?” questioned Helen, “she—”
“Oh, the poor little thing mopes and cries all the time. She won’t admit it, but she doesn’t want me out of her sight. Really, Helen, I know it is selfish when she is so afflicted—” Nathalie’s voice quavered, “but I do want a bit of fun myself sometimes.”
“Well, I should say!” was Helen’s ejaculation. “But I wouldn’t worry over it. She’s selfish, that’s all, and shouldn’t be encouraged. I have noticed that she is terribly offish with the girls, and they are half afraid to be pleasant with her.”
“Oh, she does not mean to be offish, as you say,” answered Nathalie quickly, “she is shy, and sensitive. I think she imagines the girls do not care for her because she is a humpback. If there was only some way by which she could become better acquainted with the girls, and give them a chance to know her better! She’s an awfully bright little thing, and I know she would be a prime favorite, for there’s lots of fun in her. She’s just pining—well—for love.”
“Humph!” came from Helen, “she gets enough of it from her mother and Ellen; they spoil her.”
“Yes, I know, but that is what she doesn’t want—mother-coddling. What she wants is to come out here and kick around as one of us in a rough and tumble way. Then she would get over her sensitiveness, but somehow I can’t seem to manage it.”
There was silence for a moment as both girls fellto thinking. All at once Helen bounced up in bed crying, “There, Nathalie, I have nailed it!”
“Nailed it?” repeated her companion. “Why—”
“Oh, you know what I mean, I mean about Nita. Now listen to Solon the Wise. You get Nita to come and sleep in this tent—”
“Where, on the floor?” inquired Nathalie teasingly.
“You know what I mean—on my cot. I’ll take her room. Then you drill her to take her part with the other girls, and so on, just as if she were one of us. In three days I’ll come back and take my turn with her, and you take my place. Then in three days again let Lillie take a turn, and so on until the turns have gone the rounds, each girl being her tent-mate for three days. In that way she will become acquainted and have a chance to get in with us.”
“Oh, Helen, you are the brightest—but suppose she won’t come?”
“Won’t be your tent-mate? Why, she worships the ground you walk on! That’s one thing that ails her, Nathalie, she’s jealous of the girls, because in a way she is outside of it all. Get her into harness like the rest of us and in ten days’ time she’ll be like another girl, or you can shut me up for a lunatic.”
Nathalie, as soon as possible after the morning conference, had a little talk with her Director, and finding that she agreed with Helen, sought Mrs. Van Vorst and laid before her the new plan. Of course she foundthat she had a number of objections to fight from that lady, but eventually she won, and it was decided that for the rest of the time in camp Nita Van Vorst was to be lost to her mother’s bungalow, for to her unbounded joy she was to be one of the girls!
It was bathing hour, and Nathalie, with bugle in hand, was patroling the beach, keeping her brain and eyes keenly alert, for some of the girls were careless, and would swim out beyond the raft.
Carol was giving her considerable trouble, for having just mastered the art of swimming she had become very daring, doing her best to “show off” before the girls. Her companions had promised to keep an eye on her, but Nathalie knew that when they were sporting about in the water they were apt to forget their duty.
Her eyes swept from one group to the other. Ah, the Sport was swimming out to the raft! How well she looked in that red cap, and what a beautiful swimmer she was, so free and graceful in her movements! Hearing a sudden cry, as she thought, Nathalie turned and glanced at Carol. Good! she had stopped her antics of pretending she was sinking. Her eyes again wandered to Edith, why where was she? There was her red cap bobbing on the water, what new trick was she up to now? She had thrown up her arms. Oh, was she screaming? Pshaw, she was just fooling as usual, what a plague she was!
Nathalie strained her eyes, why, yes, shewasscreaming! she had gone down again! Just a moment, and then as Nathalie saw the red cap bob up again and heard another piercing shriek, she realized that Edith was drowning! Nathalie’s brain spun like a wheel—what should she do—she glanced helplessly around. Where was Helen?
“Edith is drowning!” she tried to shriek, but her voice sounded faint, as if far away. O God! and then she remembered. Up went her bugle and two loud blasts—the danger signal that some one was drowning—rang sharply over the water.
Just a moment, and then with a sudden swirl through the air, Nathalie had leaped into the water, and with long, swift strokes swam towards the spot where she had seen the red cap go down! Ah, she was almost there! As Edith threw up her arms again with another frenzied scream, for help, Nathalie grabbed her under the shoulders. But Edith, with a hysterical cry, threw her arms around her neck. Oh, she was dragging her down!
Nathalie regained control of herself, and was frantically beating back the clutching arms. She had swung her around; she tried to get a firmer grip, but a nameless fear was pinching her heart. She felt her strength was giving out! Then she heard Helen’s voice crying, “Don’t lose your hold, Nathalie, we’re almost there!”
Edith was so heavy; Nathalie tried to tighten her grip; she was more quiet now. Oh, could it be? She heard the purling of water and saw, but dimly, something dark moving towards her. Oh, if they would only hurry? Some one had caught hold of Edith and was dragging—
When Nathalie regained her consciousness it was to hear Mrs. Morrow’s voice crying, “Poor little Blue Robin!” She opened her eyes to see the doctor bending over her while Mrs. Morrow peeped over his shoulder with a cheery smile. “Edith?” she gasped, making an attempt to rise.
“As snug as a bug in a rug,” rejoined the doctor promptly, “and you will be, too, if you will drink this.”
Nathalie meekly obeyed. She was so tired, would she ever get rested? But she did, and a few hours later was half sitting up on her cot supported by pillows, surrounded by a group of sober-faced girls all eagerly listening as she told how it came about. “If she hadn’t gripped me so hard,” she ended as she sank back on the pillows, beginning to feel tired again, “I could have managed.” Then suddenly a queer little smile curved her mouth and drawing Helen down to her she whispered softly, “Helen, do you remember the day Edith ducked us when we were off in the boat, and how I declared I would get even?” Her friend nodded gravely. “Well,” said Nathalie, still withthat queer little smile, “I have got one on her, haven’t I?”
A cheer fire was in progress, and a noisy one at that. The Pioneers had spent the afternoon and evening of the previous day over at the camp across the Lake at an entertainment called Scout Day, given in their honor by their friends.
Certainly it had been a most wonderful Scout Day, for there had been scouts saluting the colors, giving calls, making signals, lighting fires, and building shacks, tepees, and miniature log huts. Scouts, too, had engaged in all kinds of drills, contests, and races, such as tilting jousts, hand-wrestling, spear fighting and sham battles. And the games! They were a revelation to the girls in the uniqueness and cleverness of the ideas displayed. They had found, too, that scouts knew how to cook the very things dear to a camper’s heart, and sing—well, about every war and camp song known.
The Camp Circus presented the ludicrous side of these knights of chivalry, as they did clown stunts, causing the girls to laugh immoderately. After supper had come a firefly dance, which made strong appeal to the weird and mystic in every girl’s nature, as they watched the scouts swing about the blazing light in strange and grotesque evolution.
Perhaps the best was the scouts on the water, when, with a flotilla of row-boats and canoes decorated withthe figures of paper animals, and brilliantly aglow with Japanese lights they glided over the water, the motion of the boats making the lights look like fireflies dancing in the air.
The jolly times given by the scouts must be returned! When, how, and where, were the three questions causing no little agitation, when Carol, with a white, frightened face, leaped into their midst crying, “Oh, girls, the baby has a fit!”
On hearing this startling statement some of the girls began to cry, others jumped up and wrung their hands frantically, while a few made a wild dash for Mrs. Van Vorst’s bungalow. Helen fortunately kept cool, and, perceiving that a panic would ensue, seized her bugle and blew it quickly.
This halted the stampede, arrested the hysterical ones midway between a sob and a cry, and caused a sudden quiet to fall, as she cried, in a loud clear voice, “Girls, keep perfectly still. Nathalie Page, Edith Whiton, and Lillie Bell, I appoint a committee of three to go and see if Carol’s report is so, and whether our services are needed. And please, Pioneers,” she called out as the three girls sprang on their feet, “one of you girls come back and let us know how things are progressing, as we shall all be anxious to know.”
The next moment the three girls were running swiftly after Carol, who, immediately after delivering her news, had started to run back to the bungalow.
“Now, girls,” continued Helen, “let us go on talking. Of course we are all worried, for we just love that baby!” she paused for a second, “but we can’t all help. Mrs. Morrow will let us know if we can do anything, so in the meantime, let us go on thinking up ideas.”
A cheer greeted this speech as a tribute to their leader’s level head and courage, for this was not the first time that she had preserved her poise, and held the scales when unduly weighted on the wrong side.
Yes, it was true, little Camphelia was writhing in convulsions on Mrs. Morrow’s lap, while Mrs. Van Vorst bent over her with agitated movements, applying with Ellen’s help hot water, and mustard, and such remedies as were available at the moment.
Nathalie touched Mrs. Van Vorst softly on the arm, “Is there anything we girls can do?” Her eyes were big with anxious fear.
“Oh, I don’t know,” replied that lady distractedly; “if the doctor were only here!”
“Blue Robin, is that you?” asked Mrs. Morrow quickly, as she heard Nathalie’s voice. “Oh, we must have help! How unfortunate the doctor had to go to the city to-day! But, Nathalie, can’t you send a wireless to Dr. Homer? Tell him to come immediately, for the baby is very ill!”
But Nathalie was already out of the sound of her voice, as with quick, light steps she ran to the girlswho, with white distressed faces, awaited her on the veranda. “Mrs. Morrow says to send a wireless to Dr. Homer over at camp,” she explained hurriedly, “but I am afraid we won’t get him, as the wireless hours are nine, twelve and eight, and it is not eight yet.”
“Oh, yes it is,” returned Lillie, “five minutes to eight,” looking up from her little wrist-watch in its leather bandlet. “I’m sure we shall catch him.”
The girls hurried to the boat-house and climbed up to the little cupola, where Dr. Morrow, on first coming to camp, had installed his wireless apparatus. The Pioneers had been somewhat mystified by this procedure, wondering of what use a wireless would be to him up there in those woods. But the doctor had soon demonstrated that it was not only one of the most useful things about camp, but one of the most entertaining.
He had not only been able to discuss with his fellow physician across the lake many professional questions that he came across in his medical books now and then, or letters from his colleague in Westport, who had charge of some of his important cases, but at times had been able to give valuable advice to the younger physician when dealing with some refractory or eccentric scout.
But the doctor had done more than this, for he had gathered the four older girls, Helen, Edith, Lillie, andNathalie together, and given them lessons in wireless telegraphy, so that they were soon glibly talking about ether waves, spark-coils, condensers, tuners, keys, and so on, in a way that proved his lessons had been well learned. They had, in fact, not only learned the Morse code, so that they could “listen in” when the doctor was “picking up” an S. O. S. call from some ship in distress, but they had heard many a wireless message from some signal station, or from some out-going or in-coming sea craft.
At first it had seemed quite odd that although their little amateur apparatus could send messages only within a radius of five miles, it was able to receive them from a distance of over a thousand. They became so proficient in this click-clack language that they were soon sending aerograms, or wireless messages, to the camp across the Lake for the doctor. Sometimes, too, they sent messages to their scout friends, a privilege only accorded after the messages had been read by their Director, so as to avoid senseless talk or idle gossip.
As soon as the girls reached the little wooden table holding the wireless, Lillie and Edith instinctively drew back, feeling that as Nathalie was the one who had found the baby she had the prior right to send this call for help. Seating herself, Nathalie quickly adjusted the telephones over her ears and set to work. But to her surprise, as she pressed the wireless keyon the detector to close the circuit, she heard no sharp crack, and saw no spark-gap. Again she tried with like result. “Why, what is the matter with it?” she questioned turning towards the girls in some trepidation.
“Let me try,” pleaded Lillie. But alas, she met with no better luck than Nathalie, although she tried one experiment after the other. “I think it is the strangest thing,” she commented staring helplessly before her; “what can be the matter with the thing anyway?”
But Edith, who had dropped down on her hands and knees to examine the battery under the wooden board, now rose to her feet crying, “There is nothing the matter with the condenser, it must be that the aerial wires are not right!”
As the girl made this announcement there was an ominous silence as they stared with distressed, worried faces at one another. “Oh, what can we do?” lamented Nathalie, “could we—”
“I know what we can do,” said Lillie suddenly; “we can row across the Lake to the camp!”
“Yes, that is the only thing we can do,” said Nathalie quickly, “but suppose the doctor is not there! You know the boys said they were going on a two or three days’ tramp this week.”
“Well, I’ll tell you how we can settle that problem and make sure,” replied Lillie, whose mind acted quickly. “Suppose we row over while Edith goes on her wheel to Mrs. Hansen’s and telephones to Boonton.”
“What, go all that distance alone in the dark?” protested the Sport in an appalled tone, “and then I don’t know what doctor to telephone to!”
“What, Edith, do you want us to think that you are really afraid?” laughed Lillie; “you, the girl who has never shown the white feather at any dare? Why, I—”
But Nathalie’s cheery voice, like oil on troubled waters, interposed quickly, “Of course she is not afraid, but it is an unpleasant thing to do to ride that distance alone at night. But we can’t take chances, and we must have a doctor. And as to the one youtelephone to, Edith,” she cried, turning to that young lady, whose face had brightened somewhat, “call Dr. McGill, he’s the little white-haired doctor who called on Dr. Morrow the other day. He lives at Boonton.”
Without another protest Edith turned, and after running back to the cheer fire circle to inform Helen what the girls were going to do, she hurried after her wheel. A few minutes later, with the lantern fastened to the front of it, flickering like a firefly as she sped through the woods, she was on her way to the farm to telephone.
Lillie and Nathalie had hurried down to the boathouse, and in a flash of time had unfastened one of the row boats. Springing quickly in, they were soon out some distance from shore, rowing as rapidly as they could towards the opposite bank. It was a weird night, the sky seemed hung with heavy black curtains, the only light being that from the moon, as at rare intervals she darted swiftly through some opening between the clouds, or betrayed her presence by streaks of foamy silver on the edge of some unusually inky cloud.
But the path across the Lake was a familiar one, and ten minutes later the girls reached the opposite shores. “Why, it looks as if there wasn’t a soul about,” exclaimed Lillie, as, after drawing in their oars, the two girls stood up in the boat and peered anxiously through the bit of woodland that led to the camp, whose signallantern glimmered dimly through the foliage of the trees.
“I guess you’re right, Nathalie, the boys must be on a tramp,” said Lillie after several loud “Hellos!” the only reply to which had been a faint echo from across the Lake.
Putting her fingers to her mouth Lillie emitted several sharp whistles, but still no sign of life! “Huh, it looks as if it was a case of Goldsmith’s ‘Deserted Village,’” she soliloquized dismally, but Nathalie was busy giving the Pioneer yell. This evoked such a strange medley of echoing sounds that the girls burst out laughing.
Nathalie’s face soon sobered, however, as she exclaimed dolefully, “O dear, it does seem as if we were destined to have bad luck. I wonder if they could have gone to bed!” burst from her in sudden thought.
“If they have, we’ll soon rout them out,” declared Lillie, jumping on the bank. “Come on, let’s drag the boat up and then hike to camp.”
After slipping on pine needles, stumbling over gnarled roots and blackened stumps, they finally found the path, devoutly thankful that the moon had at last emerged from behind the clouds. Indeed, as they stepped from the shadows of the woods and stood on the campus—as the scouts called the level space in front of the tents—the moon was shining with a brightness that equalled the day.
As the girls’ eyes traveled from the pots on the top pole suspended over what had once been a camp fire to the rows of tents, whose open flaps revealed that they were tenantless, Lillie uttered a sudden cry of delighted surprise!
The next moment she had shot across the campus, for she had spied a white paper fastened to one of the larger tents, directly under the glare of the lantern above the door.
“Hurrah! we’re in luck,” she cried, wildly jubilant, pointing to the white paper as Nathalie reached her side. “Read that!” The girl stepped closer and slowly deciphered from the big black letters in charcoal print:
“Have gone to the Scout Council at the rooms of
the Wolf Patrol at Boonton.
“G. A. Homer, Scoutmaster.”
“But that does not help us any!” Nathalie said when she finished reading the notice, her face losing its eagerness as she faced her companion.
“Indeed it does, goosie,” replied Lillie stoutly, “for the doctor has a wireless. So have the scouts at Boonton, for I heard one of the boys tell of a message one of them had picked up the other night, the night we had that awful thunder storm, don’t you remember? So don’t say we’re not lucky, Nathalie Page, after finding that note. I’ll warrant you,though, that some of the scouts did go on a tramp, and that the doctor left that word in case they returned before he did. But let’s look for that wireless!”
Surmising that the tent with the note pinned on the flap must be Dr. Homer’s, the girls hastened in, and by the light from the lantern which Nathalie had taken from the pole by standing on a couple of soap-boxes she had found, it was soon discovered on a roughly-hewn table in a corner of the tent.
This time the wireless key did its work; there was a sharp crack, the amateur wireless operator had clicked off the R. Z., the camp’s private call, and then with palpitating heart and expectant eyes sat waiting to see if it had been picked up. Suddenly her face broke into a smile, for as she “listened in,” she caught the wireless O. K. G. (go ahead). She went ahead, and in a few moments had made the operator at the Patrol rooms understand that Dr. Homer was wanted. There was a moment’s delay, and then the doctor himself was sending a message through the air. It took but a short space of time for Nathalie to click off why he was wanted, and how the girls had come to wire him from the scout camp.
“Now let’s make tracks for home,” said Lillie as Nathalie hung up the lantern on the pole again. “I am afraid it may rain, for I thought I heard thunder.” But she must have been mistaken, for not a cloud disturbedthe soft silver haze that guided them across the Lake to Camp Laff-a-Lot.
“Dear me,” ejaculated Nathalie an hour later as she and Helen were undressing for bed, “what a lot of things have happened in the two weeks we have been at camp! But how glad I am that Dr. Homer got here in time, and that the baby is all right.”
“Well, it ought to be, with two doctors on the job,” retorted Helen with her usual bluntness. “Isn’t that old Dr. McGill jolly?”
“Oh, yes, it was comical to see him look the baby over, and then declare that there was nothing for him to do but to look wise, as Dr. Homer had done all there was to be done. What a chummy confab they had too, after it was all over! He was so pleased to meet Dr. Homer, he said, for he had heard Dr. Morrow speak of him.”
“Well, one thing’s settled, Miss Blue Robin,” remarked Helen decidedly, “and that is that Miss Camphelia is not to have any more sweets. I half suspect that Carol tried to stuff her with a bite of green apple, for she looked frightened to death when she saw that she was ill. Dr. Homer said there had been too much mothering going on. I just knew it would come to this, the way—”
“Stop your scolding, Lady Fuss,” laughed Nathalie, “for it seems to me that I saw you trying to stuff the kiddie with a lollipop the other day. But, anyway, therules have been posted, ‘No one to feed, or to handle Miss Camphelia without permission of the head nurse, Miss Ellen Carmichael!’ I’m dead for sleep, so good night!”
The camp presented an appearance of unusual activity, with flags and bunting rippling in the sunlit air, and girls, scouts, and village guests in a state of restless progression, for it was the Pioneer Sport Day. The girls were in a whirl as they flew hither and thither, seeing that everything was in readiness for the anticipated fun, the visitors curiously prying into the living arrangements of this girls’ camp, while the scouts impatiently tramped about, waiting for the sports to begin.
Ah, there was the bugle call, the signal for a rush down to the shores of the Lake to witness the aquatic feats of the young campers! “A ghostly dive,” read Fred Tyson slowly from an imposing little program, hand-printed in red, and tied to a birch-bark cover with sweet-grass. “I’d like to know—” but his query was cut short as the bugle again sounded to announce that the first race was to start.
Fred turned his eyes towards the pier and stared curiously at the little figure in a khaki suit with red tie and hat, standing so proudly erect on a small platform as the Pioneer announcer for the day. Could it be? Yes it was Miss Anita Van Vorst, with herknapsack so adroitly arranged that no one would have suspected she was the little humpback who had once only taken an outing when wheeled in a chair.
A sudden scurry from the boat-house of two ghostly figures, a quick rush up the plank leading to the barrel platform,—Peter’s diving-tower,—the spectral habiliments suddenly flung away to float with the tide, and two blue-suited forms had sped swiftly downward.
There was a splash, a shower of silvery spray, a few bubbles, and two heads were bobbing about like floating corks. The next minute Kitty and Edith were swimming swiftly back to the pier, Edith in the lead, and Kitty a close second amid the noisy hurrahs from their friends on the bank. Edith, of course, won the blue, and with a wave of her hand as an acknowledgment to the cheering audience darted quickly back to the boat-house.
A tennis match now followed, which proved to be Lillie and Jessie arrayed in tennis-suits seated in wooden tubs with tennis-rackets for paddles, paddling to the goal, an anchored raft some yards from shore. Lillie was the winner this time, and, amid a general laugh received her prize, a dime and pin, with radiant smiles from the bugler on the pier.
A pioneer race was engaged in by two Orioles, one in the costume of a colonial maiden of Plymouth town, while the other closely resembled pictures of that laggard in love, John Alden. The contestants swam tothe raft where they attempted in double-quick time to divest themselves of their old-time clothes, the one, of course, who accomplished this feat first having the best chance to win the race.
But shoes would stick, strings would knot, and buttons wouldn’t unfasten. Nannie Plummer at last was free, and jumped back to the water. But alas, her bonnet still clung to her; no, not to her head, but to one of her feet, causing her audience to shout with merriment at her antics to rid herself of this obstacle, while Johnnie the slow was still making futile endeavors to rid herself of her undesirable trousers.
A Japanese race was applauded perhaps as much for its picturesqueness as for the skill displayed, as two daintily gowned figures,—one in a pink and one in a blue flowered kimono, with flowers and fans coquettishly arranged à la Japanese in their hair—with mincing steps hied themselves down to their boats. Here, each one holding an umbrella in one hand and a palm-leaf fan in the other, they paddled out to the stake boat.