The Camp and Temperamental Excursions
This summer in California for the first time the Sunrise camp was
located near the sea.
After several days of investigating the countryside, in the meanwhile
using the little mission town of Capistrano as their headquarters, the
travelers discovered what they considered the ideal situation further
south along the coast.
Near the border of one of the immense ranches for which southern
California is famous they came upon a little stream of water flowing
inside a channel. The channel had been deepened in order that the supply
might last through the dry season. Not far away stood a small frame
house. In harvest times the laborers on the ranch occupied this small
house as a lodging for the night when the distance made it impossible
for them to return to their own homes.
By a piece of rare good fortune Mrs. Burton was able for almost a
nominal sum to rent this little place for her sister and herself.
The shack was lightly built, the roof formed of dried palm branches laid
the one upon the other until the effect was like a thatched roof,
although neither so warm nor so secure. Since it never rains during the
summer in southern California, one requires only protection from the sun
and wind. Near the house the camp-fire tents were set up in the form of
a crescent.
Behind them the ranch stretched on for miles, a thousand-acre carpet of
small green plants. For, as Marta Clark remarked when they were
traveling down the state, it appeared as if California were preparing to
provide the world with one gigantic bean feast.
Several hundreds of yards away the beach was silver and purple and rose
with the sea verbena and ice plants which spread like a colorful
embroidery over the sands. Here and there were tiny coves and clumps of
rocks.
Near the camping site there was no main traveled road, but a small
branch one which would improve with use. The closest place of human
habitation was a seaside colony of artists, perhaps a mile or more
beyond.
Here Mrs. Burton was able to find a garage for her automobile.
Partly because she was actually in need of his services and more to
impress him with the idea, Mrs. Burton had persuaded Dan Webster to take
charge of her car during the summer. As a matter of fact, aside from
Billy, who did not always count, Dan was the only masculine person at
the Sunrise camp, Mr. Jefferson Simpson having departed as casually as
he originally had arrived, soon after the tents were set up.
Mrs. Burton preferred being shut away from strangers during their
holidays and presumed the girls shared her desire.
Soon after their conversation about the camp fire a new regime of war
economy was established at Sunrise camp. There were uncomfortable
moments when strange dishes of none too appetizing a character were
produced. But always the cooks declared it the fault of the too
particular persons who refused to partake of them and not of the food
itself. They did acquire new methods of bread making, substituting bran
and corn-meal for wheat flour which were really improvements on the old.
Moreover, the summer before the Indian girl, Dawapa, had taught the
Sunrise Camp Fire members a number of the old Indian uses of corn. With
perishable fruits and vegetables so abundant, it was unnecessary, during
the summer at least, to suffer any real discomfort from war economies.
Now and then one of the girls would develop a too rigorous idea of
self-denial to meet with the approval of her Camp Fire guardian. But
after a time Mrs. Burton ceased to worry over original departures,
permitting the girls to adjust matters for themselves.
However, it is not the adjustment of mere material things which is the
difficult problem with human beings in living together, but the
adjustment of one unlike nature with another.
As much as possible after his open disagreement with Billy, Dan Webster
endeavored to avoid his brother's society. They never had been
congenial or spent much time together since the days when they were
children. But at present Dan and Billy were sleeping in the same tent at
night and in the daytime Billy was always mooning about camp insisting
upon one of the girls listening to him. He preferred Vera, but if she
were too busy, any one of the other girls could substitute.
This would have made no difference to Dan except that Billy blandly and
serenely continued to expound his views upon peace in spite of the fact
that every member of Sunrise camp disagreed with him.
Hard as it was to endure, Dan's hands were tied, for he had solemnly
promised his mother not to use physical violence with Billy, and nothing
else would stop the flow of his misplaced eloquence.
So, as Dan was an ardent fisherman, he used to spend days away from camp
fishing and swimming. He was fond of the Camp Fire girls, especially of
Marta Clark and of Sally Ashton, but he could not endure too large a
diet of exclusively feminine society. Moreover, Dan was too accomplished
an athlete and too fine a fellow all round not to make friends wherever
he went among men.
One afternoon it chanced that Dan was alone and preparing to go in
swimming at a rather dangerous point about three miles below Sunrise
camp.
The spot was deserted and Dan was beginning to undress when he became
conscious of the uncomfortable sensation that some one at no great
distance off was watching him.
Glancing about, Dan discovered the calm figure of his brother standing
only a few yards away when he had sincerely hoped that at least several
miles separated them.
In reply to Billy's friendly "hello," his brother returned no answer.
Nevertheless Billy strolled quietly across the space between them,
taking a seat on the rocky cliff, apparently as cheerful and undisturbed
as if he considered himself a welcome interruption.
"Better not go in swimming from this cliff, Dan; this place looks pretty
unsafe. The waves are so violent you might be thrown against the rocks,"
he began, offering his entirely unsolicited advice in the most affable
manner.
As a matter of fact, upon most occasions, Dan Webster was rather
unusually sweet tempered. But at present, because of his own
disappointment over not being allowed to volunteer for some branch of
war service, and because of what he considered his brother's disloyal
opinions, the very sight of Billy enraged him.
"Billy Webster, I wonder if you are a coward about every mortal thing? I
suppose you understand that cowardice is what I believe lies at the back
of your pacifism. I suppose it is natural to wish to call an ugly fact
by a pretty name. Besides, it is a lot pleasanter and easier to talk
about the beauty and sacredness of peace and the rights of men than to
fight and die for them. But please don't trouble about me and run along
back to camp. I don't want to go into this subject with you again as I
came away largely to get rid of your society." Dan made an effort to
speak quietly.
"All right, I'll be off in a moment; don't wish to worry you," Billy
agreed, and, except for a slight flush which Dan did not observe, he
appeared unmoved. "Do you know I am glad you reopened this subject.
Ever since you spoke of the same thing the other day I have been
wondering if what you said was true and I am a pacifist because I am a
physical coward. Of course I know I am afraid of a lot of things that
don't frighten you, but I believe you are mistaken about this business,
Dan. If I were up against a stiff proposition I might still be afraid
and yet go through with it. My feeling about peace really has nothing to
do with the part I may some day be called upon to play in this war, a
pretty poor part at best I expect. I wish you would believe this if you
can. But good-by; I am off."
Then, before Dan could make any response, Billy moved away. Once out of
sight, he lay down upon the beach with his head propped on his slender
hands, keeping a watchful outlook upon Dan, who was swimming nearly a
mile out from the shore. When Dan had finished and climbed back up the
cliff, then only did Billy set out for Sunrise camp.
There were also temperamental difficulties, needing adjustment among the
Camp Fire girls.
Frankly, both Sally Ashton and Gerry Williams had been bored by their
long journey down the California coast and their many pilgrimages to the
old Spanish missions along their route. With their natures it was
impossible for either of them to understand how any human being could
obtain a great deal of pleasure from mere scenery and what persons were
pleased to call romantic atmosphere. To Sally and Gerry romance took
shape in a very different guise.
During the trip they were at least sustained by the hope that, once
settled in their summer camp, they would begin making agreeable
acquaintances, notwithstanding, up to the present time, Sunrise camp had
developed about as many social opportunities as a desert island.
Therefore, one morning, with the perfectly definite plan of going forth
in search of adventure, Sally and Gerry set out upon a little
temperamental excursion.