THE COUNCIL FIRE
"I hope it will, Bessie," said Dolly. "But you know what a nasty temper
I've got. If she keeps on talking the way she has, I don't know what
I'll say."
"Well, you might as well say what you like, Dolly. I believe she wants a
good quarrel with someone--and it might as well be you."
"You mean you think she likes me to get angry?"
"Of course she does! There wouldn't be any fun in it for her if you
didn't. Can't you see that?"
Dolly looked very thoughtful.
"Then I won't give her the satisfaction of getting angry!" she declared,
finally. "Of course you're right, Bessie. If we didn't pay any attention
at all to her it wouldn't do her a bit of good to get angry, would it?"
"I wondered how long it would take you to see that, Dolly."
They were walking back to their own tents as they spoke. Once arrived
there, neither said anything about the spirit Gladys had shown. They
both felt that it would be as well to let the other girls think that
Gladys shared the friendly feelings of the other Halsted girls. And
since Bessie and Dolly happened to be the only ones who knew that Gladys
had been the prime mover in the trouble that had been made at Lake Dean,
it was easy enough to conceal the true facts.
"She can't do anything by herself," said Dolly. "Up at Lake Dean nothing
would have happened unless the rest of those girls had taken her part
against us."
"I'm going to try to forget about her altogether, Dolly," said Bessie.
"I'm not a bit angry at her, but if she won't be friends, she won't and
that's all there is to it. And I don't see why I should worry about her
when there are so many nice girls who _do_ want to be friendly. Why,
what are you laughing at?"
"I'm just thinking of how mad Gladys would be if she really understood!
She's made herself think that she is doing a great favor to people when
she makes friends of them--and, if she only knew it, she would have a
hard time having us for friends now."
* * * * *
Charlie Jamieson and Billy Trenwith accepted Eleanor's pressing
invitation to stay for the evening meal, but Trenwith seemed to feel
that they were wasting time that might be better spent.
"Not wasting it exactly," he said, however, when Eleanor laughingly
accused him of feeling so. "But I do sort of think that Charlie and I
ought to keep after this man Holmes. He seems to be a tough customer,
and I'll bet he's busy, all right."
"The only point, Billy," said Charlie, "is that, no matter how busy we
were, there's mighty little we could do. We don't know enough, you see.
But maybe when I get up to the city, I'll find out more. I'll go over
the facts with you in Bay City to-night, and then I'll go up to town and
see what I can do with Jake Hoover and Zara's father."
"Well, let's do something, for Heaven's sake!" said Trenwith. "I hate to
think that all you girls out here are in danger as a result of this
man's villainy. If he does anything rotten, I can see that he's punished
but that might not do you much good."
"I tell you what would do some good, and that's to let Holmes know that
you will punish him, if he exposes himself to punishment," said Charlie
Jamieson. "That's the chief reason he's so bold. He thinks he's above
the law--that he can do anything, and escape the consequences."
"Well, of course," said Trenwith, "it may enlighten him a bit when he
finds that those rascals we caught to-day will have to stand trial, just
as if they were friendless criminals. If what you say about him is so,
he'll be after me to-morrow, trying to call me off. And I guess he'll
find that he's up against the law for once."
"Did they get that telephone fixed up, Nell?" asked Charlie. "You're a
whole lot safer with a telephone right here on the beach. Being half a
mile from the nearest place where you can ever call for help is bad
business."
Eleanor pointed to a row of poles, on which a wire was strung, leading
into the main living tent.
"There it is," she said, gaily. "I don't see how you got them to do it
so fast, though."
"Billy's a sort of political boss round here, as well as district
attorney," laughed Jamieson. "When he says a thing's to be done, and
done in a hurry, he usually has his way."
Eleanor looked curiously at Trenwith, and Charlie, catching the glance,
winked broadly at Dolly Ransom. It was perfectly plain that the young
District Attorney interested Eleanor a good deal. His quiet efficiency
appealed to her. She liked men who did things, and Trenwith was
essentially of that type. He didn't talk much about his plans; he let
results speak for him. And, at the same time, when there was a question
of something to be done, what he did say showed a quiet confidence,
which, while not a bit boastful, proved that he was as sure of himself
as are most competent men.
Also, his admiration for Eleanor was plain and undisguised. Charlie
Jamieson, who was almost like a brother in his relations with Eleanor,
was hugely amused by this. Somehow cousins who are so intimate with a
girl that they take a brother's place, never do seem able to understand
that she may have the same attraction for other men that the sisters and
the cousins of the other men have for them. The idea that their friends
may fall in love with the girls they regard in such a perfectly
matter-of-fact way strikes them, when it reaches them at all, as a huge
joke.
All the girls were sorry to see the two men who had helped them so much
go away after dinner, but of course their departure was necessary. Just
now, after the exciting events of the previous night, there seemed a
reasonable chance of a little peace, but the price of freedom from the
annoyance caused by Holmes was constant vigilance, and there was work
for both the men to do. Moreover, the sight of the cheerful fire from
the other camp, and the thought of the great camp fire they were
presently to enjoy in common consoled them.
"The Halsted girls are going to build the fire," said Eleanor. "It's
their first ceremonial camp fire, so I told Miss Turner they were
welcome to do it. They're all Wood-Gatherers, you see. So we'll have to
light the fire for them, anyhow. See, they're at work already, bringing
in the wood. Margery, suppose you go over and make sure that they're
building the fire properly, with plenty of room for a good draught
underneath."
"Who's going to take them in, and give them their rings, Miss Eleanor?"
asked Dolly. "You, or Miss Turner?"
"Why, Miss Turner wants me to do it, Dolly, because I'm older in the
Camp Fire than she is. She's given me the rings. I think it's quite
exciting, really, taking so many new girls in all at once."
"Come on," cried Margery Burton, then. "They're all ready and they want
us to form the procession now, and go over there."
"You are to light the fire, Margery. Are you all ready?"
"Yes, indeed, Miss Eleanor. Shall I go ahead, and start the flame?"
"Yes, do!"
Then while Margery disappeared, Eleanor, at the head of the girls,
started moving in the stately Indian measure toward the dark pile of
wood that represented the fire that was so soon to blaze up. As they
walked they sang in low tones, so that the melody rose and mingled with
the waves and the sighing of the wind.
Just as the first spark answered Margery's efforts with her fire-making
sticks, they reached the fire, and sat down in a great circle, with a
good deal of space between each pair of girls. Eleanor took her place in
the centre, facing Margery, who now stood up, lifting a torch that she
had lighted above her head. As she touched the tinder beneath the fire
Eleanor raised her hand, and, as the flames began to crackle, she
lowered it, and at once the girls began the song of Wo-he-lo:
Wo-he-lo means love.
Wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo.
We love love, for love is the heart of life.
It is light and joy and sweetness,
Comradeship and all dear kinship.
Love is the joy of service so deep
That self is forgotten.
Wo-he-lo means love.
Outside the circle now other and unseen voices joined them in the
chorus:
Wo-he-lo for aye,
Wo-he-lo for aye,
Wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo for aye!
Then for a moment utter silence, so that the murmur of the waves seemed
amazingly loud. Then, their voices hushed, half the Manasquan girls
chanted:
Wo-he-lo for work!
And the others, their voices rising gradually, answered with:
Wo-he-lo for health!
And without a break in the rhythm, all the girls joined in the final
Wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo, wo-he-lo for love!
Then Margery, her torch still raised above her head, while she swung it
slowly in time to the music of her song, sang alone:
O Fire!
Long years ago when our fathers fought with great animals you were
their great protection.
When they fought the cold of the cruel winter you saved them.
When they needed food you changed the flesh of beasts into savory
meat for them.
During all the ages your mysterious flame has been a symbol to them
for Spirit,
So, to-night, we light our fire in grateful remembrance of the Great
Spirit who gave you to us.
Then Margery took her place in the circle, and Eleanor called the roll,
giving each girl the name she had chosen as her fire name.
Then Mary Turner, in her new ceremonial robe, fringed with beads,
slipped into the circle of the firelight, bright and vivid now.
"Oh, Wanaka," she said, calling Eleanor by her ceremonial name, "I bring
to-night these newcomers to the Camp Fire, to tell you their Desire, and
to receive from you their rings."
One by one the girls of the Halsted Camp Fire stepped forward, and each
repeated her Desire to be a Wood-Gatherer, and was received by Eleanor,
who explained to each some new point of the Law of the Fire, so that all
might learn. And to each, separately, as she slipped the silver ring of
the Camp Fire on her finger, she repeated the beautiful exhortation:
Firmly held by the sinews which bind them,
As fagots are brought from the forest
So cleave to these others, your sisters,
Whenever, wherever you find them.
Be strong as the fagots are sturdy;
Be pure in your deepest desire;
Be true to the truth that is in you;
And--follow the law of the Fire!
One by one as they received their rings, the newcomers slipped into
seats about the fire, each one finding a place between two of the
Manasquan girls. Marcia Bates, flushed with pleasure, took a seat
between Bessie and Dolly.
"Oh, how beautiful it all is!" she said. "I don't see how any of us
could ever have laughed at the Camp Fire! But, of course, we didn't know
about all this, or we never would have laughed as we did."
"I love the part about 'So cleave to these others, your sisters,'" said
Dolly. "It's so fine to feel that wherever you go, you'll find friends
wherever there's a Camp Fire--that you can show your ring, and be sure
that there'll be someone who knows the same thing you know, and believes
in the same sort of things!"
"Yes, that's lovely, Dolly. Of course, we've all read about this, but
you have to do it to know how beautiful it is. I'm so glad you girls
were here for this first Council Fire of ours. You know how everything
should be done, and that seems to make it so much better."
"It would have pleased you just as much, and been just as lovely if
you'd done it all by yourselves, Marcia. It's the words, and the
ceremony that are so beautiful--not the way we do it. Every Camp Fire
has its own way of doing things. For instance, some Camp Fires sing the
Ode to Fire all together, but we have Margery do it alone because she
has such a lovely voice."
"I think it was splendid. I never had any idea she could sing so well."
"Her voice is lovely, but it sounds particularly soft and true out in
the open air this way, and without a piano to accompany her. Mine
doesn't--I'm all right to sing in a crowd, but when I try to sing by
myself, it's just a sort of screech. There isn't any beauty to my tones
at all, and I know it and don't try to sing alone."
"Aren't they all in now?" asked Bessie.
There had been a break in the steady appearance of new candidates before
Eleanor. But, even as she spoke, another figure glided into the light.
"No. There's Gladys Cooper," said Marcia, with a little start.
"I wonder if she sees what there is to the Camp Fire now," said Dolly,
speculatively.
"What is your desire?" asked Eleanor.
"I desire to become a Camp Fire Girl and to obey the law of the Camp
Fire," said Gladys, in a mechanical, sing-song voice, entirely different
from the serious tones of those who had preceded her.
"She's laughing to herself," said Marcia, indignantly. "Just listen!
She's repeating the Desire as if it were a bit of doggerel."
They heard her saying:
"Seek beauty, Give service, Pursue knowledge, Hold on to health, Glorify
work, Be happy. This law of the Camp Fire I will strive to follow."
"Give service," repeated Eleanor slowly. "You have heard what I said to
the other girls, Gladys. I want you to understand this point of the law.
It is the most important of all, perhaps. It means that you must be
friendly to your sisters of the Camp Fire; that you must love them, and
put them above yourself."
"I must do all that for my chums--the girls in our Camp Fire, you mean,
I suppose?" said Gladys. "I don't care anything about these other girls.
And, Miss Mercer, all that you're going to say in a minute--'So cleave
to these others, your sisters'--that doesn't mean the girls in any old
Camp Fire, does it?"
Startled, Eleanor was silent for a moment. Mary Turner looked at Gladys
indignantly.
"It means every girl in every Camp Fire," said Eleanor, finally. "And
more than that, you must serve others, in or out of the Camp Fire."
"Oh, that's nonsense!" said Gladys. "I couldn't do that."
"Then you are not fit to receive your ring," said Eleanor.