A couple of days later Winona took Florence and Puppums, and went
exploring in the rowboat. Louise and Helen were very busy making a
tree-house, but they promised to see that Hike the Camp Cat was looked
after and no belated advertisement answerer got him.
The Merriams rowed about a mile along the river, in the direction away
from the village, without finding anything more interesting than a
muskrat, who disappeared when Puppums barked at him. But just a while
after this thrilling incident they rounded a bend, and there in a red
canoe, placidly catching fish, sat Tom!
His back and that of the boy with him were turned to them, but there was
no mistaking him, nor Billy Lee. Neither of them saw the rowboat till it
was quite close, and Florence and Puppums howled together in greeting.
"Hello, kid! H'lo, Winnie--you've frightened the fish!" was his
brotherly greeting: while Billy, not being a relation, took off his hat
and said politely that he was glad to see them, and how was the camp?
"Oh, never mind the fish!" said Winona, when she had answered Billy with
equal politeness. "You can fish any day, but you haven't seen your
family since last week. How do you come to be up here so soon?"
"Captain Gedney worked it somehow--I don't know how," said Tom. "Anyhow,
we're here. Good fishing, too. See?" He held up a string of fair-sized
fish in proof.
"Where's your camp?" asked Florence, while Puppums almost had hysterics
and had to be handed into the canoe so that he could love Tom properly.
"Can I come see it?"
"Sure you can," said Tom. "No charge for the view. It's those tents
right over there."
"You know I don't mean that," said Florence, pouting. "I mean I want to
get out and go over."
"Oh, wait a day or so, can't you, Floss?" implored Tom, who plainly
didn't want to be detached from his fishing. "Wait and come over with
the rest of the bunch, and we'll give you a grand welcome, fifes and
drums and things. I tell you, though, girls, why can't you all come use
our swimming pool? We've just finished damming off a little branch
stream into a dandy pond--paved it and all. Started it last year. But
you'd have to give us warning, so we wouldn't be in it."
"Why, how lovely!" exclaimed Winona. "I know Mrs. Bryan will let us, and
all of us brought our bathing-suits."
"Good enough!" said Tom.
"How was mother--was everything all right at home when you left?" asked
his sister.
"Oh, fine and dandy. But what do you think, Winnie, that Children's Aid
child has come. Mother says she's glad it happened while we were out of
the way, so she'd have a better opportunity to get him running smoothly
without our help."
"Him!" said Winona. "Do you mean they sent a boy, not a girl?"
Tom laughed. "They certainly did--a darky about twelve, as black as your
hat, and a regular Topsy."
"Good gracious!" said Winona, laughing.
Mrs. Merriam had written to the Children's Aid Society a little while
before for a girl of about fourteen--black preferred--who could help
with the dishes out of school hours. She had heard nothing about it, and
the family had completely forgotten it till now.
"When did he get there?" asked Winona.
"The day before I came away," said Tom. "It was wash-day, and that
colored washerwoman mother has opened the door. First we knew she came
back and said: 'There's a white woman and a young colored gemman to see
Mrs. Merriam.' So mother went out, and came back in a minute with the
agent, an awfully nice sort of a girl, and the smallest, solemnest,
black boy you ever saw. Mother didn't want him at first, but the
agent-girl swore he had all the virtues, and needed a good home and
moral training. Then she walked off and left him sitting on a chair,
staring straight ahead. I tell you, it got sort of embarrassing after
awhile. So I asked him his name."
"What is it?" asked Winona.
"He said, 'Ah was christen' Thomas!'" returned Tom, grinning. "So mother
told him that I'd been christened Thomas, too, and asked him for his
last name. And he said, 'Ma las' name's Clay--but hit ain' ma callin'
name. Ma callin' name's Thomas. But yo'-all kin call me Mistah Clay if
yo' want to!'"
"Did mother want to?" asked Winona.
"She nearly exploded," said Tom, "but I think they came to some sort of
a compromise. I don't think he'll leave her time to miss us, for a week
or so anyway!"
"Well, I'm glad of that," said Winona. "Tommy, did you ever know of
anything I could do?"
"What on earth do you mean?" asked Tom, while Billy Lee, who had been
silently fishing all this time, looked interested.
"I mean something I could do that would earn money," she explained. "We
want to stay in camp longer than we have money for, so we must earn it."
"The thing you always were best at was darning my stockings," said Tom
cheerfully, and grinned.
"Oh, dear, I just knew you'd say that!" said Winona. "I can't go round
selling darns!"
Billy Lee lifted up his head from a tangle in his fishing-line as he
answered, "I don't see why you couldn't. I mean--why couldn't you do
mending for the Scouts? If you'd be willing to, I know we'd be glad.
There's an awful lot of holes in my clothes."
"And nobody to do them?" asked Winona, delighted.
"Not a soul," answered both boys at once.
"Oh, how perfectly splendid!" said Winona. "Mr. Gedney will know how
much I ought to charge for them, won't he?"
"Yes, or Mrs. Bryan had better tell you," said Tom.
"Oh, can I have them now?" asked Winona.
"Oh, bother!" said Tom. "Won't to-morrow do?"
"I'll get 'em," said Billy Lee, and made a flying leap out of the canoe
to shore.
He was gone a few minutes, and came back with a clothes-basket full of
garments of various kinds: also with the Scoutmaster, Captain Gedney.
"Good-morning, girls!" said the Scoutmaster. "This is fine! Billy tells
me we're going to get our mending done!"
"Oh, is it really all right?" quivered Winona.
"Yes, indeed, it's more than all right," answered Mr. Gedney
enthusiastically. "I was thinking of taking a trip to the village to see
if we could find somebody we could put at it, but this is better. Now
you get your Guardian to put a price on the work, either by the piece or
by the hour. I can promise you spot-cash, and a great deal of gratitude
into the bargain."
* * * * *
So the end of it was that Florence and Winona rowed happily back down
the river with what looked extremely like two weeks' wash in their boat;
also with the joyful certainty that Winona, at least, was going to be
able to earn her share of the expenses for the extra weeks of camping.
The boys promised to paddle down in a couple of days and get the mended
clothes, and--most important--the bill for them. Billy Lee wanted to see
his sister, anyway, he said.
When Florence and Winona got back nearly every girl in camp was seated
out in the open air, in a big circle, and nearly all of them were
talking at once, planning the ceremonial meeting for that night. There
was to be a ceremonial fire, a very high and beautiful one with a
central pole--this last an innovation which Louise was introducing. And
Winona and Marie Hunter were going to be made Fire Makers, Louise and
several of the others were going to be Wood-gatherers, and Nataly Lee
was going to join.
When Winona joined the circle she found that a good deal of the
excitement was being caused by the Book of the Count. Marie and Helen,
with paints and pen and brushes, were making the record of the days they
had spent in camp a very lively affair.
Winona sat down and looked on at what Marie was doing, and read on the
page they had open:
On the second day, Winona,
Ray-of-Light, the Cat-Collector
Made her way unto the village,
To buy post-cards at the village.
With her went the cheerful Comet,
Ishkoodah with flaming tresses;
With her went the Star of Evening,
Helen, gentle Star of Evening,
And Nokoma, flower-giver--
Nataly the flower-giver.
Seeking post-cards, thus they wandered,
But alas, the Cat-Collector
Much preferred to bring home kittens,
And to advertise those kittens.
All next day the ad-replyers
Tracked our camp with questing footsteps,
Asked of us--"Where are those kittens?
Give us several dozen kittens!"
For, alas, those cats had vanished,
Gone with the first two replyers
To the ad Winona paid for.
Still about our Camp come wailing
Folk who seek the cats they heard of,
Seeking several dozen kittens;
Still the Ray-of-Light, Winona,
Cannot give them any kittens,
Cannot stop their wronged insistence
On those kittens, on those kittens--
"Oh, good gracious!" asked Winona, beginning to laugh before she read
any further. "Who _did_ make all that up?"
"I did," said Marie proudly, "but we all helped."
"Do you mean to tell me that any more people have come catting to-day?"
demanded Winona.
"Only seven," said Helen. "Winnie, you'll never hear the last of this."
"Well, Mrs. Bryan, I've found some work to do that will earn money,"
said Winona, hastily changing the subject. "Florence and I went up to
the Scouts' camp, and Mr. Gedney gave us the boys' mending to do. He
said you were to put a price on it for us."
"Twenty to twenty-five cents an hour," supplied Mrs. Bryan promptly.
"You'd better have some of the other girls help you, too, dear, for
there's enough work there to take up a good deal of your time for three
or four days, and you don't come camping to turn yourself into a
sewing-girl, even for the good of the camp."
"Very well," said Winona. "Who hasn't picked out any special work to do
yet?"
"Nataly Lee," said someone.
"Neither have I," said Elizabeth. "I'll help, too."
A half-dozen of them went off to a sunny spot, produced a large
alarm-clock to time themselves by, and put in two hours of work
immediately. That is, all but Nataly. She got tired at the end of one
hour, and went off, she said, to lie down. The others got the mending
almost done, for many hands make light work. Then they piled up the
basket again, and went back to camp. It was Winona's turn to get supper
that night.
"There ought to be about four dollars' worth of work in that basket,"
said Helen thoughtfully when they all met at supper.
"It's probably more than we'll have next time," said Winona. "But
anyway, it's a steady income. Let's hope they'll be kind, and wear big,
awful holes in everything they have."
"They will, unless they've had a change of heart since last week," said
Louise.
* * * * *
After supper was cleared away the girls set about collecting wood in the
open space on the top of the little hill, for their ceremonial-fire. It
was the most happy and successful meeting they had had, and also, as
Louise expressed it, the most beadful. It ended in a ghost-dance around
the fire. After it was through the girls lay still and told stories,
which gradually became more ghostly than the dance. It was very pleasant
till bedtime came. Then even the bravest of them made dashes for their
tents; and Mrs. Bryan, making her rounds after the camp was asleep,
found five lighted candles keeping ghosts out of five tents in a row!