CHAPTER IXUndercurrents
A week later and life among the new Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls appeared to be moving with entire smoothness.
The girls had their regular schedule of work and it was simple enough to gain new Camp Fire honors in a land whose every phase was unusual and absorbing, and where work in itself became an adventure.
In a low camp chair outside her own tent one morning Mrs. Burton was resting an hour or so after breakfast. She assisted with the work whenever it was possible, but it was one of her doctor’s orders that she spend a part of each day as quietly as possible.
Inside her tent she could hear Marie making their beds and sighing with each movement. Marie was still unreconciled. Still, she insisted upon wearing her conventionalmaid’s dress of black cloth in the mornings with white collars and cuffs and black silk in the afternoons, with always a tiny piece of white embroidery perched on top her shining black hair. She was very piquant, was Marie, but one can imagine how absurd she looked amid a group of Camp Fire girls in camp fire costumes on a plateau in Arizona.
However, Mrs. Burton was not worrying. Life at present was too delightful to allow small matters to count. And Marie would doubtless, become reconciled to the West, as many another equally homesick person has before her.
The day was blue and silver, the sky almost cloudless, the sun turning the sands to silver and glistening white on the summits of the cliffs beyond. But under the pine trees on top of the mesa it remained cool and serene.
Gerry Williams was lying at full length on the ground near Mrs. Burton. This she usually managed to accomplish, no matter how the other girls might try to forestall her. Undoubtedly, except for Peggy Webster, she appeared to be Mrs. Burton’sfavorite, and Peggy was her own niece, almost her own child, as she had none of her own. But, then, Peggy was too straightforward, too downright, to let any one get ahead of her, even so clever a girl as Gerry.
Gerry had been shelling peas for luncheon, but had stopped with her task only half finished.
At present, a few yards away, Peggy was seated, stripping the husks from a great pile of sweet corn. Her hair was not long and hung straight and black just below her shoulders. She wore a band of scarlet about her head, holding the hair back from her eyes. Peggy’s cheeks were crimson and her skin browner than ever from the Arizona sun. Partly to tease her and partly because she did look like an Indian, the other girls had recently insisted upon naming her Minnehaha, “Laughing Water,” which Peggy considered ridiculous.
She was not laughing at present, however, but frowning and keeping resolutely at her task. Bettina sat near her, reading. Vera was on the other side, peeling potatoes. In some curious fashion the more unpleasant tasks in camp appeared always to fall toVera. There are people in the world like this, so that one wonders if they select the tasks or if the tasks select them. Alice Ashton and Ellen Deal were merely sewing on an outdoor costume for Ellen while Sally was pretending to write a letter.
The cover had been firmly placed on her box of chocolates. She had produced a box from her pocket a short time before, but, as Camp Fire guardian, Mrs. Burton had really felt obliged to object.
Too much eating of sweets was against all Camp Fire regulations. Moreover, where had Sally acquired such an inexhaustible supply? Terry Benton had been seen to appear with a box which he must have ridden a great many miles to secure. There must have been something about Sally which immediately suggested sweets to her young men friends. Although Mrs. Burton was secretly amused that the serious-minded Dick and Esther Ashton should have so frivolous a daughter, Sally must be made to respect rules and preserve her health.
“Mrs. Burton, do you know what I am thinking of?” Gerry asked, with a softinflection in her voice which was very attractive. “I wish we had a Camp Fire name for you, but I can’t think of any title lovely enough. Bettina,” she called across, “you are everlastingly reading. What name can we give to the most delightful and gifted person in the world?”
Gerry’s flattery was so transparent that Mrs. Burton laughed.
But Bettina was so absorbed that she did not understand, for she did not answer at once. And for the first time at Gerry’s words, Polly observed that Bettina was reading when the girls were supposed to be at some kind of work.
It was Peggy who replied with an unmistakable lifting of her eyebrows.
“Why not call Tante the Queen of Sheba, Gerry, and be done with it? I suppose, because we know so little about her, she has always seemed to me to be the most extraordinary of women. Then, she made Solomon answerallher questions, and I don’t believe even Tante could accomplish more than that.”
Naturally the girls laughed at Peggy’s speech and Mrs. Burton as well; neverthelessshe did feel a little aggrieved. There had been a note of sarcasm in Peggy’s voice which she had never heard there before in any reference to her. Could the sarcasm have been intended for Gerry or for her?
Polly was a little worried at the two girls’ attitude toward each other, yet the fault did appear to be Peggy’s. Could Peggy be a little jealous at her interest in a strange girl, of whose history she knew nothing.
But Peggy had finished her task by this time and, getting up with a great kettle of corn swinging on her arm, remarked cheerfully: “Glad I am through with my work, especially as I won’t be at home to eat any of the corn. You remember, Tante, that Bettina and Vera and I are going off for a ride with our new Camp Fire guide. We have finished our share of the work.”
Vera continued being busy for a few moments, but Bettina got up slowly, still holding the book half open in her hand.
Something in her manner annoyed Mrs. Burton and she spoke quickly and thoughtlessly after her old fashion:
“You and Vera seem to have been industriousenough, Peggy, but I cannot see that Bettina has done a conspicuous share.”
She was sorry the next instant, for Bettina made no reply but, flushing, walked quietly away.
She was not accustomed to criticism and it had been difficult to keep her temper.
But Peggy waited until she was out of hearing and then deliberately set down her kettle.
“That was not fair of you, Tante, and you give a wrong impression of Bettina to the other girls. She was reading some Indian legends which I asked her to learn and tell at our camp fire this evening. They form as much a part of our honor work as other things, and I thought, if we were to visit the Indian reservations and see their summer festivals, it would be interesting to know more about them. Good-by; don’t worry about us; we shan’t be long.”
Then off she and Vera went toward their sleeping tent in order to change to their riding clothes.
They left Mrs. Burton feeling suddenly discouraged with herself as a Camp Fire guardian when, a few moments before, theatmosphere had been so serene. She was particularly sorry that the one girl with whom she seemed least able to get on was the daughter of her most beloved friend.
But Gerry interrupted her train of thought. She was sitting up now, and close enough to take hold of Mrs. Burton’s hand. Gerry always appeared sweet tempered, no matter what occurred.
“You have not told us, nor let us choose a name for you,” she murmured with the half-affectionate and half-admiring manner which she always showed to the older woman.
But this time Mrs. Burton was not interested.
“Wait until I have earned a title. I may not be a worthy Camp Fire guardian. But, in any case, the girl among us whom we shall decide has done most for our camp fire during this summer shall have from me, if it is possible, the gift she most desires.”
Then, before any one could answer, a man came toward them over the trail at the top of the mesa.
He was not a prepossessing figure. He must have been over forty years old andhis skin looked as brown and as hard as the bark on a tree. Indeed, Sally Ashton insisted that he had once been a tree in the petrified forest nearby and, in some strange fashion, had been transformed into a man.
Yet Mrs. Burton looked at him with pleasure. His age and his lack of attractiveness was greatly in his favor, in her eyes. But, then, he carried himself erectly; walked with a long, swinging stride which was peculiar to the West; and obviously had a sense of humor.
Mr. Gardener had brought him to camp a few days before, to act as the second of the Sunrise Hill Camp Fire guides. Mrs. Burton must have made the Gardeners see that Terry Benton was an impossibility. Not that any fault was to be found with Terry himself except that his age or rather his youth was against him.
The new guide Mr. Gardener introduced as an old friend of his—Mr. Jefferson Simpson—who was temporarily out of a job. The truth of the matter was, Mr. Simpson had been a fairly rich man until a few weeks before, but a silver mine he owned had suddenly ceased producing andMr. Simpson’s ranch and his money had gone to keep the stockholders from loss.
At this moment he lifted his hat and, though he appeared perfectly polite, one could guess that he was secretly amused at his latest occupation. He may have had a variety of jobs in his day, but never anything like this.
“Good morning. The ponies are ready and needing exercise,” he announced.
At this moment Marie appeared at the door of her mistress’ tent.
Her costume was irreproachable; her figure as nearly perfect as a small, well-rounded person’s figure can be. But Marie’s expression, as she surveyed the new guide, changed from the disconsolate to the disdainful.
“Evidently this was the type of man the West produced. He had no style, no manners—and his clothes!” As Marie gazed at the rough gray flannel shirt, the rusty gray hat and discolored khaki trousers, and her mind went back to the immaculate persons she was in the habit of seeing in the lobbies of the theaters on Broadway, she visibly shuddered.
It was barely possible that Mr. Jefferson Simpson understood her expression.
“Perhaps Mam’selle will come along; the trail may be a bit steep, but we shall not go far; and perhaps it may be best to have an older person with us. There is a little trick burro I can have ready in a moment.”
Marie refused to reply; shrugging her shoulders, she vanished inside the tent.
But Mrs. Burton exchanged a brief glance with the new Camp Fire guide. Did he also understand that Marie was extremely sensitive about her age and that she expected to be regarded as a girl, although undoubtedly she must have been nearer thirty than twenty. The shadow of a smile was exchanged between them.
At the same instant Peggy and Vera and Bettina came out from their tent, having changed into their riding costumes—short skirts and trousers and high boots.
Peggy kissed her aunt farewell and, rather shyly at her invitation, both Vera and Bettina followed suit. Not that Polly Burton was usually demonstrative, except with the few persons whom she reallyloved. But she wished to make amends to Bettina and, at the moment, this appeared the only way.
Later, she and the remaining four girls watched the others wind their way along the trail below the mesa and disappear toward the northwest.
After lunch, when Polly had gone inside her tent to write her husband, and Alice and Ellen Dean were taking afternoon naps away from the heat of the early afternoon sun, Sally Ashton and Gerry Williams went down toward Cottonwood Creek together. They did not mention their going to any one, but it was cooler in the neighborhood of the creek.