INDEPENDENCE DAY.
"Girls!" exclaimed Nyoda one day at the dinner table, "to-morrow
is the Fourth of July. Shall we have a celebration?"
Sahwah looked at Hinpoha and slowly lowered one eyelid. "Yes,
yes," cried all the girls in chorus, "let's do!"
"Well, what shall it be?" continued Nyoda, "a flag raising and a
bonfire and some canoe races?"
"Oh, a flag raising by all means," said Migwan, "they always have
one in the Scout camps. My brother is a Scout and he thinks it's
awful because we don't have more flag exercises."
"Where will we get the flag?" asked Sahwah.
"It's here already," answered Nyoda, "in the bottom of my trunk.
I knew that sooner or later we would want it so I brought it
along."
"Who will do the raising?" asked Hinpoha.
"Why, Nyoda, of course," said Migwan, "who else?"
"And I move," said Nyoda, "that Migwan write a poem suitable to
the occasion and deliver same."
"Yes, yes," cried all the girls, "a poem from Migwan." Migwan
demurred at first, but finally promised, just as she always did.
"Wait a minute," said Sahwah suddenly, "where are we going to get
the pole to raise the flag on?" All the girls looked blank for a
moment.
"We'll run it up on the diving tower," said Nyoda promptly. "We
can find a small dry tree in the woods and strip the branches off
and fasten it to the top of the tower and run the flag up on it.
There, that's settled. Now, what kind of water sports shall we
have?"
Sahwah and Hinpoha exchanged glances, and Sahwah wriggled in her
chair. "Wouldn't you like a committee to arrange that?" she
asked, trying to make her voice sound natural and disinterested.
"Why, yes, that would be a good idea," said Nyoda, "and I appoint
you and Hinpoha as the committee to do the arranging. I am very
glad you suggested that, for it leaves me free to go to the
village this afternoon. Now, do we need any more committees?"
"There ought to be one on seating arrangements," said Sahwah.
"On what?" asked Nyoda.
"Seating arrangements," repeated Sahwah. "Where to place our
guests."
"May I ask who our guests are going to be?" said Nyoda.
"I don't know yet, myself," said Sahwah calmly. "But we ought to
have some. It would be sort of flat to have a celebration just
for ourselves. We'll all have to be in it and there won't be any
audience. How would you feel like giving a show for nobody's
benefit? So I thought we'd do it this way.. We'd have a
committee on seating arrangements, and they would have to furnish
the audience as well as the seats. Isn't that a good idea?"
"It's an original one, anyway," said Nyoda, somewhat
breathlessly. "However, I think you are quite right. If there
is an audience to be had, by all means let us have one. But I
give you fair warning, it may not be the easiest thing to pick up
an audience in the Maine woods."
"There are other campers around the lake," replied Sahwah, "and
there are the people in the village. We could bring them here in
the boats."
"They might have plans of their own, though," said Nyoda, "so we
mustn't count too much on having them come to visit us. By the
way, Sahwah, whom would you suggest for a seating-arrangements
committee?"
"Oh, you would be the best one for that, Nyoda," answered Sahwah.
Nyoda bowed, laughing. "I accept the position of Audience
Furnisher," she said, formally. "Now, every man to his task!
Gladys, would you like to come to the village with me this
afternoon?"
Sahwah and Hinpoha also went to the village, but they waited
until Nyoda was well out of sight, then they paddled across the
lake with strong swift strokes that sent the canoe fairly flying
through the water.
"I thought Nyoda would want some kind of a celebration," said
Sahwah, "so it's a good thing we have our plans made, although we
did want them to be a complete surprise." Instead of getting out
at the regular landing they paddled around the village and up the
mouth of a small creek, where they beached the canoe and crept
stealthily toward the store. After peeking through the window
and satisfying themselves that Nyoda was not within Sahwah
entered, while Hinpoha kept watch in the doorway. "Did you get
everything?" asked Hinpoha, as Sahwah emerged with her arms full
of bundles.
Sahwah nodded. "But it took every yard of bunting they had."
They hastened back to camp and preparations for the next day's
celebration were soon under way.
When Nyoda returned at supper time she was immediately surrounded
by an eager group clamoring to know who was going to be the
audience. Nyoda shook her head sadly. "There ain't no such
animal," she replied tragically. "We stopped everybody we met on
the street in the village--we only met five people--and, invited
them; we invited the storekeeper and the man who rents the boats;
but none of them could come. Then we went around to the houses
to see if we could find some women and girls, but with the same
result. It seems that some local magnate is giving a barbecue
out at his farm to-morrow and the whole town is invited."
"But the other campers," said Sahwah hopefully.
Again Nyoda shook her head. "We took the launch and ran in at
every landing for several miles around. There aren't so many
campers up here yet as you might think. A great many of the
cottages were closed. The few people we did talk to had their
plans already made. Don't look so disappointed, Sahwah. If we
were out in the middle of the desert or shipwrecked on a lonely
island there wouldn't be any possibility of an audience, and yet
we would be having a celebration for our own benefit just the
same."
"Of course we would," said Migwan stoutly, "and to tell the
truth, it would never have occurred to me to ask any one else to
our celebration to-morrow. I think it's lovely to have it just by
ourselves."
"I tell you what we'll do," said Hinpoha with a burst of
inspiration, "we'll take turns being the audience. The seating
committee can usher us to our seats between our own performances
and we can pretend that we don't know what is coming."
"You forget that I, for one, don't know what is coming," said
Nyoda, "and will be a very appreciative spectator indeed. Behold
me, ladies, at your service, the Audience!" And Nyoda swept them
a low curtsey, whereupon they fell on her neck with one accord.
Sahwah woke with the dawn the next morning and craned her neck to
look at the weather. To her great disappointment the lake was
covered with a heavy mist and there was no sign of the sun. The
woods looked dark and gloomy. "Rain!" she exclaimed tragically,
and buried her head in the blankets. The clouds were still thick
at breakfast time, although no actual rain had fallen.
The flag raising took place right after breakfast, with due
ceremony. Up went the Stars and Stripes, without a pause, and
just as it reached the top of the pole and yielded its folds to
the breeze the sun broke through the clouds and bathed it in a
golden glory. The girls cheered and burst into a lusty rendition
of the "Star Spangled Banner," after which Migwan's patriotic
poem was recited amid much applause.
Then began the water sports, which opened with canoe races. The
four who were not in this took their seats on the shore, being
placed by Nyoda with great formality, and passed Nakwisi's
spy-glass from hand to hand. Hinpoha and Nakwisi, and Sahwah and
Migwan were partners in the races. First they raced for
distance, paddling around the nearest island and coming back to
the dock. Hinpoha and Nakwisi came out ahead, because Migwan,
who was paddling stem in her canoe, lost time steering around the
island. Then came an obstacle race, in which the girls paddled
up to the dock, disembarked, dragged the canoes across the dock
and launched them again on the other side. Again Hinpoha and
Nakwisi won.
Then came a race between the two crews with the paddlers standing
on the gunwales, which tested the skill of the girls to the
uttermost. With superhuman effort they kept their balance and
came sweeping in neck and neck, the watchers on shore cheering
lustily. "Go it, Hinpoha!" shouted Nyoda, and Hinpoha raised her
head to look at her, lost her balance, and upset the canoe,
leaving Sahwah and Migwan the victors.
The spectators applauded heartily, and sang cheers for the
winners, when suddenly the applause was echoed from behind them.
Nyoda wheeled swiftly around and faced two gentlemen standing at
the foot of the path leading to the dock. As she turned they came
forward, hats in hand. The elder man spoke: "I am Professor
Bentley, of Harvard University, and this is Professor Wheeler."
Nyoda graciously acknowledged the introductions. "We have been
staying at the other end of the lake," resumed the stranger, "and
intended to return home to-day, but missed the steamer. We were
told that a steamer passed Wharton's Landing at noon, so we
walked over for it. Can you tell us which is Wharton's Landing?"
"That is Wharton's Landing directly opposite," replied Nyoda,
"but the steamer has already gone past. There is a different
schedule on holidays. However, it passes again at six this
evening. Won't you be our guests until then? We can take you
across in the launch." The strangers accepted the invitation and
Nyoda introduced the other girls.
Professor Wheeler looked long and hard at Hinpoha. He seemed
unable to take his eyes from her hair.
"And now," said Professor Bentley, when they were all comfortably
seated upon the rocks, "would you mind telling me what you are
and what you were doing when we came up?"
"We are Camp Fire Girls," they cried in chorus, "and we're
celebrating the Fourth of July!"
"So you're Camp Fire Girls, are you?" answered Professor Bentley.
"That is a Species of the Female that I am greatly interested in.
How fortunate that I should have come upon them in their native
wilds! Is this where you hibernate?--excuse me, I mean
sunburnate!" He wanted to ask a great many questions about the
girls, but Professor Wheeler was anxious for the water sports to
continue.
"The Audience!" exclaimed Sahwah in a rapturous aside to Hinpoha,
"it fell right kerplunk off the knees of the gods!"
Sahwah, who was by far the best diver in camp, now performed a
series of spectacular dives, which she had been practising early
and late, including forward, backward, somersault, angel, sailor,
box-to-springboard, and springboard from the top of the tower.
Then she produced a hoop, which she made Hinpoha hold while she
dove through it, forward and backward, from the high springboard.
She ended her number with what she called the "Wohelo Dive," in
which she jumped from the dock to the low springboard, landing in
a sitting position, bounced up three times for Work, Health and
Love, and then turned a somersault into the water.
"Whew!" whistled Professor Bentley, "what a diver! She's a
regular Annette Kellerman!" This was repeated to Sahwah later,
to her great gratification.
After the diving was over the girls did a stunt which called for
a great deal of endurance. It was invented by Sahwah and called
a "Submarine Race." Sahwah, Hinpoha and Nakwisi, the three girls
who could swim under water, each tied a toy balloon around her
neck, and jumping from the dock on signal, swam beneath the
surface to see who could reach the shore without coming up for
air. The balloons of course stayed in the air and indicated the
progress of the swimmers. This stunt amused both the visitors
highly, and they grew quite excited over which one was going to
stay down the longest. "I bet on the red balloon," said
Professor Bentley, who knew that Sahwah was attached to it.
"The green one for mine," answered Professor Wheeler, who was
keeping his eye on Hinpoha.
"It was the weirdest thing," said Migwan afterward, "to see those
balloons go darting and wobbling back and forth!"
"And the weirdest feeling when you were attached to them," said
Sahwah, "I felt like the keel of a boat when the sails are full
of wind."
The second part of the program was a series of tableaux showing
events of American history. The first represented Washington
Crossing the Delaware. The sponson, a flat-bottomed canoe with
air tanks in the sides, came into view around the cliff propelled
by one paddler in the stern. In the bottom sat two devoted
patriots carrying hatchets. The great George stood in the bow,
in defiance of all canoe laws, with one foot up on the bow point,
his hand on his sword, his eyes on the distant shore. His hair
had turned bright red and he had taken on considerable flesh
since his friends had seen him last, but there was no mistaking
the military attitude. In the water around the sponson floated a
number of water wings, tied to the boat, to represent floating
ice cakes. The audience applauded vigorously as the skiff drew
near. At the psychological moment, when Nyoda had her camera
focused for a snap a huge mosquito settled on George's extended
calf. He uttered a sudden yell, brought his hand down on his leg
and pitched headfirst into the water. The patriots rescued him
and set him on the dock, and Professor Wheeler, who had sprung
from his seat and looked as if he were going to the rescue
himself, sat down again amid the general laughter.
"What next?" he murmured, chuckling extravagantly.
The next was an episode entitled "The Pirates of Tripoli."
Chapa, Medmangi and Nakwisi came swaggering out on the dock
dressed as pirates, with turbans and sashes and fearful knives
stuck in their belts, singing, "Fifteen men on a dead man's
chest!" Striking piratical attitudes on the end of the dock they
sang the Pirate song from "Peter Pan," making savage gestures and
pointing downward dramatically at the line,
"We're sure to meet below!"
Chorus over, the captain bold set his men to swabbing decks,
etc., and ordered the watch up aloft on the tower to plant the
flag with the skull and crossbones and keep the lookout. Boldly
he paced up and down on top of the tower, sweeping the seas with
his spy-glass. Suddenly he paused and uttered a shout. The
pirates crowded to the edge of the dock. Looking in the
direction he pointed they beheld two sailors approaching in a
small open boat. Seeing the pirates, the sailors were overcome
with terror and tried to avoid passing the dock, but the ruthless
cut-throats flung out a rope and lassoed them. Pulling them up
on the dock, they blindfolded them and tied their hands behind
them. Then, in spite of pitiful shrieks for mercy, the pirate
captain ordered the poor sailors up the ladder to the top of the
tower and made them walk the plank off the high springboard,
still blindfolded. It was so thrilling the audience squealed
with excitement.
As Sahwah jumped she flung out her arms in a despairing gesture,
and wobbled beautifully all the way down through the air. It was
Migwan, though, who created the most merriment. The two sailors
were dressed very correctly in white duck trousers, middies and
sailor caps. The trousers were part of the outfit that Sahwah
had purchased in the village the day before, and the pair that
fell to Migwan were much too big for her. When it came her turn
to walk the plank she remembered Sahwah's parting injunction to
"hang on to 'em, whatever you do," and in a sudden panic lest she
should fall out of them in her flight through the air, she
grabbed them firmly by both sides of the belt, and jumped in that
position. The watchers on the beach were convulsed and struggled
for some minutes to regain their composure.
The last tableau brought tears to Nyoda's eyes--tears of joy and
pride. Around the cliff came a gay craft, moving slowly and
majestically through the water, but there was no sign of a
paddle. As it drew nearer the watchers saw that it was a canoe,
its sides covered with red, white and blue bunting. Before it
swam Sahwah and Medmangi. Inside, on a flag-covered seat, sat
Hinpoha, dressed as Columbia, with a crown on her head, her
glorious hair rippling down to her waist and shining like copper
in the sunlight. In one hand she carried a torch, in the other
she held two white streamers. These streamers were fastened to
Sahwah's and Medmangi's waists, who drew the canoe as they swam.
The spectators drew a long breath and exclaimed with delight.
Professor Wheeler sprang to his feet, camera in hand, and snapped
the "Ship of State" at least a dozen times. "Glory! What a head
of hair!" he muttered to himself.
The cortege approached the dock and those on shore thrilled with
a fearful realism as the swimmers reared up their heads and blew
jets of water out through their mouths and noses just like sea
horses. As the boat passed the dock the watchers with one accord
stood and sang "America," and kept on singing until it had
vanished from sight around the next cliff.
"Great!" cried Professor Bentley, applauding until he was red in
the face, "great!"
When the three girls came out on the beach after having changed
their fancy costumes they were met with another round of
applause. "That little pageant of yours," said Professor
Bentley, "was about the neatest thing I have ever seen. Was it
an original idea?"
The girls proudly replied that it was. "And not only original,"
added Nyoda, "but executed entirely without my help. The whole
program was a surprise to me."
"You don't say so," said Professor Bentley. "Well, all I can say
is you are a pretty clever lot of girls!"
Chapa had been busy for the last few minutes gathering driftwood
and getting a fire started. The girls had decided to cook dinner
down on the beach in order to show the visitors their skill in
cooking in the most primitive way. A big kettle of clams was hung
over a fire all its own, while another fire was kindled between
two long logs, and the pots and pans set along on it in a row.
Migwan tended the clams, Sahwah put on a kettle of potatoes and
then began making toast, Nakwisi made cocoa, Medmangi fried
bacon, and Hinpoha flew about concocting a delicious compound
which was her own invention and with which no one dared to
meddle. The two men watched with interest every move of the
girls as they went about preparing dinner.
"Look at that!" said Professor Bentley to his friend. "That"
happened to be Hinpoha, who was momentarily left alone with the
fire. The cocoa kettle started to sag as the wood burned away
and at the same time the mixture in the other kettle began to
boil over. Bracing the cocoa kettle with one foot, she snatched
the other kettle from the fire, and stood there on one foot
holding the steaming pot. Professor Wheeler sprang to her
assistance and propped up the cocoa kettle.
Dinner was the merriest meal imaginable, and "food just faded
away," as Sahwah declared. Hinpoha won much praise for her
concoction, which she called "Slumgullion." It was a sort of
glorified tomato soup, made with a thick white sauce, containing
chopped-up pimentoes and hard-boiled eggs, the mixture being
served over toast. The clams of course were the main dainty, and
when dipped in butter slid down with amazing rapidity. After
dinner the girls threw themselves down in the sand in various
attitudes of relaxation, while Professor Wheeler, his eyes
straying again and again toward Hinpoha, told stories of camping
in the Canadian Rockies.
When he had finished the girls rose and stretched themselves, and
then began to clamor for "more celebration." Nyoda suggested a
fire-building contest. Each girl was to have three minutes in
which to collect material and get a fire started. No paper was
allowed and only three matches. What a scramble there was to
find small dry twigs! There was a smart breeze blowing, and most
of the matches went out as soon as lighted, putting their owners
out of the contest. Sahwah was wise and piled her twigs where a
huge stump sheltered them from the wind; Hinpoha sat between hers
and the wind. Even then it was difficult to get the twigs to
burn. It seemed as if they were in league against the contestants
and firmly refused to light.
"Two and a half minutes," called Nyoda warningly, her watch in
her hand.
"Mine's burning," shouted Hinpoha, jumping up as the flames began
to curl up from the twigs. Just then a gust of wind came up, and
pouf! out went the fire.
"Time's up!" called Nyoda, and Sahwah rose from her knees,
disclosing a neat little blaze. She had wisely sheltered her
fire until the last second, giving it a chance to kindle well.
Now it was the custom of the Winnebagos to have a folk story told
by one of their number right after supper, but as the visitors
would have to leave early Nyoda asked if the girls wouldn't like
to tell the folk story before supper. They agreed, as usual, to
anything that would give pleasure to a guest. It was Migwan's
turn to tell the story, so seating herself on a rock in the midst
of the group, she related the story of Aliquipiso, the heroic
Oneida maiden.
"Once upon a time the savage Mingoes made war upon the Oneidas,
so the Oneidas were obliged to flee from their pleasant village
and seek refuge in the depths of the forest. So well did they
hide their traces that the Mingoes were not able to find their
hiding place and they remained safe. Their food supply, however,
began to be exhausted, for they were hemmed in by the Mingoes and
could not break through the lines. They were facing destruction
in two ways; either by slow starvation should they remain in
hiding, or a cruel death at the hands of the Mingoes should they
venture out. The chiefs and warriors of the Oneidas held a
council, but none had a plan to offer which would effect their
salvation. Then the maiden Aliquipiso stepped forward. With
becoming modesty she addressed the chiefs and warriors, saying
that the Great Manitou had sent her a dream in which he showed
her how great boulders could be dashed on the heads of the
Mingoes if they could be lured to a spot directly beneath the
bluff on which the Oneidas were hiding. She went on to say that
the Great Manitou had inspired her with the desire to be the
means of luring the Mingoes to their destruction, and she was
ready to start out on her mission.
"The Oneida braves hailed her as the saviour of her people and
the Beloved of the Great Spirit, and hung strings of wampum
around her neck. Bidding her people farewell, she left the
hiding place and was found by the Mingoes wandering in the
forest, apparently a lost maiden of the Oneida tribe. They took
her to their camp and put her to torture trying to make her tell
where her people were hidden. At last she broke down and
promised that when night fell she would lead the Mingoes to the
hiding place of the Oneidas.
"Under cover of the darkness she led them to the gully at the
foot of the ravine. On each side of her was a Mingo warrior,
ready to strike her dead at the first cry for help. When she
reached the spot where she knew the Oneidas were waiting to hurl
immense boulders down over the cliff she uttered a piercing
scream--the signal agreed upon. The warrior next to her had just
time to strike her dead with his club when the boulders came
down, crushing him and all the Mingoes like worms beneath a
giant's heel. Thus the Oneidas owed their deliverance to the
bravery of a maiden."
"It must be fine to be a heroine," sighed Sahwah, when the
applause was finished, "to save a person's life or something. I
wish I had lived in the early days of the country. Nothing ever
happens now."
Unsuspecting Sahwah! Little did she dream what was hidden under
the wings of the Thunder Moon!
The guests rose to depart, after inspecting the tents and
partaking of sandwiches and cocoa out on the Sunset Rock. Nyoda
took them across the lake in the _Sunbeam_, the little launch
that belonged to camp. Both gentlemen expressed their unbounded
admiration for the physical prowess of the Winnebago girls and
remarked on their splendid ability to pull together.
Professor Wheeler raved about Hinpoha's hair. "Let me come and
paint her," he pleaded. "Sitting out on the rocks--with the sun
on that hair--O, what a picture!"
Gently but firmly, Nyoda refused permission. "The girls have
come up here for a summer all by themselves; to learn the joys of
camping out and of doing things together. Such an interruption
would break up the unity of their activities and lessen the
influence of camp."
Professor Wheeler begged and entreated, but in vain; Nyoda stood
her ground. The most she would promise to do was to send him
Hinpoha's address at the close of camp so that he might take the
matter up with her parents.
Nyoda returned home very thoughtful. Hinpoha's dawning beauty
was causing her many thoughtful moments of late. Not that
Hinpoha was in the least vain or self-conscious; on the contrary,
she was the jolliest and most natural girl in the group, and the
least fastidious. That same red hair which Professor Wheeler
raved over was the bane of her existence, and she had more than
once threatened to cut it off when the curls became hopelessly
snarled. Her chief aim in life was to have as much fun as
possible and to get as many others mixed up in it as she could.
Hinpoha, haughty and proud because of her good looks, was a
picture that the imagination balked at. Yet Nyoda could not help
noticing that wherever the group went Hinpoha attracted by far
the most attention from outsiders. All the way down from
Cleveland on the train Nyoda had watched men who had scarcely
taken their eyes from Hinpoha. The guardian sighed as she
reflected on the problem, for she knew how difficult it would be
for Hinpoha to live out the happy normal girl life which was her
birthright.
When Nyoda reached camp Hinpoha and Sahwah were lying on their
stomachs on the dock, rigging up a light-boat to be sent over the
lake. It consisted of a flat board for a keel and voluminous
sails dipped in turpentine. As Nyoda landed they set a match to
the sails and shoved the boat out into the wind. It made a grand
glare as it glided out over the lake and the girls cheered until
the last spark had fallen hissing into the water.
"Wasn't it a grand success all the way through?" sighed Sahwah
happily as they climbed the path to the tents at the sound of the
first bugle. "First we thought it was going to rain and then the
sun shone; and first we thought we weren't going to have any
audience and then we did anyway, and the dinner didn't burn and
everything was lovely!"
The day had been pretty strenuous for most of the girls and it
was not long before Nepahwin, the Spirit of Sleep, claimed them
for his own. Then it was that the Dream Manitou, hovering over
the Omega tent, fluttered down on Sahwah's pillow. In fancy she
roamed through the virgin forest, before the white man had come
to destroy the Indian lodges. She was the daughter of a
Chieftain, the acknowledged leader of the other maidens. Now
there was a young brave belonging to a neighboring tribe with
whom she was in love, but there was enmity between her tribe and
his, and he dared not ask for her hand. So they were in the
habit of meeting secretly in the forest. One day when they were
together they became aware of footsteps approaching, and peering
through the bushes saw a number of braves belonging to the young
man's tribe close upon them. So great was their hatred of her
father that for them to find her would mean instant death.
"Fly! fly!" whispered her lover, "fly to the edge of the cliff
and jump for your life. My canoe is at the foot of the
cliff--take it and escape while I divert the attention of these
braves!"
Like an arrow from the bow she set out. Reaching the edge of the
cliff, she poised for an instant, then leaped into the lake
twenty feet below. As she struck the water Sahwah woke up. All
about her was darkness and seeming chaos. There was a swirling
about her ears and her limbs seemed detached from her body. She
seemed to be rising rapidly. Suddenly her head shot clear of the
enveloping gloom and she saw the moon and stars overhead. Just
above her reared a black framework. Mechanically she flung out
her hand and grasped solid wood. The next moment a voice rang
out above her head. "Sahwah! What are you doing?" Then a hand
came over the edge of the dock and pulled her up. It was Nyoda.
Sahwah blinked at her stupidly.
"Whatever possessed you to jump off the tower?" persisted Nyoda.
"He told me to jump and I did," said Sahwah, still in a daze.
Then suddenly her eyes fell on her nightdress, dripping at every
fold. "Where am I?" she said sharply, her teeth beginning to
chatter. "Why, _Nyoda!_"
Nyoda laughed. "You dreamed it, dear," she said. "You jumped
off the tower in your sleep. Come up to bed now before you take
cold." Putting her arm around the shivering girl, she led her up
the path to the tent and tucked her in between dry blankets.
"Too much celebration," she reflected, and then added to herself,
"It's a good thing I happened to see her."
Nyoda had wakened in the night and lay looking out through the
tent door at the lake bathed in moonlight. The diving tower was
right in her line of vision, solitary and black against the
moonlight. Suddenly she became aware of a figure climbing up the
ladder to the top. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes and
recognized Sahwah. The girl poised for an instant on the edge
and then jumped into the water. Nyoda sped down the path and
reached the dock just as Sahwah came up.
"And up until now," thought Nyoda, as she dropped off to sleep
again, "I did think they were safe in their beds!"