A week had passed, and although the novelty of many of the activities
and pleasures of this life in the open had dulled, every moment proved
one of joy. Drills, contests, sports, hikes, and various entertainments
had merged so evenly, one into the other, that tasks had lost their
irksomeness and play had received an added zest.
To be sure, some unfortunate accidents had happened; Grace had cut her
hand when opening a can of tomatoes, Carol had been stung by some
mysterious insect so severely that even the doctor was puzzled, and one
of the Orioles had sprained her ankle. But these mishaps had been
received with true camp fortitude--the Pioneer spirit, Helen called
it--and had only served as object lessons in the First Aid to the Injured
talks given by Dr. Morrow, thus giving Helen and Kitty a chance to
display their expertness in the triangular, the four-tailed, and many
other kinds of bandages.
Hammers, saws, and hatchets were in great demand one morning--the girls
all busy making stilts, some to show their scout friends that they could
handle men's tools, while others were qualifying for first-class
Pioneers--when Lillie appeared. With woebegone face she reported to
Nathalie, who was serving as her assistant on the Grub committee, that
there was no milk.
"No milk?" ejaculated the girl. "Why, wasn't the milkman here this
morning?"
"Sure," nodded Lillie, "but that Oriole girl--Nannie Plummer--dropped some
swill into the milk can. She mistook it for the garbage pail--" Lillie's
eyes glinted humorously--"she was so busy expressing her admiration for
that Will Hopper, you know the scout with the languishing eyes, as Helen
calls them."
Nathalie's face expressed dismay. "Oh, what shall we do?" she almost
wailed; "we have got to have milk for that pudding, and--"
"To be sure," laconically returned Lillie, "and you will have to go and
get some."
"Get some?" echoed Nathalie faintly; "where?"
"At the farm-house, you know the place--with the red barn--on the road to
Boonton."
"But there isn't time for me to walk there and back before dinner,"
protested the girl somewhat wrathfully, "on this hot day, too!"
"No, but you can take Edith's bicycle, and go and get back in no time."
"Oh, but it is hot!" ejaculated Nathalie, some fifteen minutes later, as
with reddened, perspiring face she slowed up her wheel, and spying a
mossy bank overlooking a brook meandering beneath a group of willows,
jumped to the ground. As she was standing her wheel against a tree, a
woman with a reddish handkerchief tied over her head came up the bank.
She started when she saw Nathalie, but instantly averting her eyes
hurried on down the road in the direction of the farm-house where
Nathalie was to get the milk.
The girl had thrown herself on the grassy slope and was fanning
vigorously with her hat, when her eyes were arrested by something white
lying under an overhanging bush near the brook. Perhaps she would not
have stared so intently if she had not thought that she saw it move.
Just at that moment a low wailing cry came to her ears.
Assured beyond doubt that the cry came from the bundle, she hurried down
the slope, and a moment later was bending over a baby, who, on seeing
the wondering face, looked up with innocent appeal in its wide blue
eyes.
"Why, you dear," cooed the girl, "how did you come here?" She looked up
expecting to see some one to whom the baby belonged, but as there was no
one in sight and she saw the little lip quiver pathetically, she
gathered it up in her arms and chucking the dimpled chin began to jabber
to it in baby language.
"Whom do you belong to, baby?" she questioned aloud, silently wondering
if that tramp woman who had come up the bank could have been its mother.
But that could hardly be, she pondered, for she looked like an Italian,
while the baby was fair with tiny wisps of golden hair straying from
beneath its neat white cap.
Reminded finally that the camp's need of milk was urgent, she laid the
baby down and ran along the bank first in one direction, and then the
other, shouting and calling until her voice was hoarse. O dear, what
should she do? She could not leave that dear thing there alone! Ah, she
would take it with her to the farm-house, perhaps Mrs. Hansen might know
something about it.
Carrying her find with one arm and trundling her wheel with the other
hand, she arrived in a short space at her destination. But alas, she met
with no satisfaction. Mrs. Hansen declared that in all probability the
woman was a gypsy, as there was a settlement of them some miles beyond
the town and that she had purposely deserted the baby. She also informed
the girl in a most emphatic manner that she could not leave the child
there as she had enough of her own to look after.
"But this is a white baby," persisted Nathalie, "see, it is very fair!"
showing the little puckered face, for by this time it had begun to
whimper quite loudly.
"Poor waif!" exclaimed the farmer's wife, "it is hungry!" Hastily
getting a cup of milk she put it to the mouth of the little one, whose
fingers closed on it tightly as it drank greedily.
But feeding the baby did not soften Mrs. Hansen's heart, and Nathalie
was forced to see that there was nothing else to do but to carry the
deserted one to camp with her. But how could she trundle a wheel, carry
a five-quart can of milk, and the baby all at the same time? Poor
Nathalie! she was in deep waters!
Mrs. Hansen, however, who was not unkindly, seeing the girl's dilemma
called her boy Joe, and giving him the milk and wheel told him to hurry
with it to the camp, so that Nathalie would have her arms free to carry
her charge.
Some time after the dinner hour Nathalie, tired, hot, hungry, and every
muscle aching from weariness, arrived at the camp. She was immediately
surrounded by the girls, who besieged her with questions as to the why
and wherefore of her tardy appearance. But when their eyes lighted on
the blue-eyed cherub, who had been blissfully sleeping the greater part
of the girl's three-mile tramp on a sunny road, they went wild with
excitement.
Mrs. Morrow presently arrived on the scene and promptly driving
Nathalie's tormentors away, handed the infant to Ellen and Nita. Then
she made the girl lie down in the hammock to cool off, while Helen and
Grace rushed off to get her dinner.
As the girl, between bites, told of her strange adventure, she saw that
it was not to prove as disastrous as she feared, for the little stranger
had already captivated every member of the camp, even down to Peter,
also Rosy, Mrs. Van Vorst's black cook. Indeed, it was petted, hugged,
and kissed so many times that Mrs. Morrow, fearing it would be brought
to evil by so many caressing hands, then and there made rules as to how
each girl should care for it.
They all declared that Nathalie's finding that baby was providential,
for one of the Pioneers that very morning had expressed the wish that
they could find a baby in one of the farm-houses. They wanted to
practice bathing and dressing it, as these were some of the
qualifications necessary for a first-class Pioneer.
Although notices were posted in the post-offices of the towns, and also
sent to several newspapers, advertising the fact that a baby had been
found and was at Camp Laff-a-Lot, no one claimed it. The girls were
delighted as they were enamored of their new toy, each one secretly
hoping it could remain with them.
The girls had even begun to discuss the project of calling it the Girl
Pioneer baby, and were deep in plans to raise money so they could have
it taken care of and educated as such, when Mrs. Van Vorst avowed that
if no mother appeared to claim it she would adopt it as her own.
This of course took away the girls' hopes of having the little one for
their own, as who could deny Mrs. Van Vorst and Nita what they so
eagerly desired and what they were so able to do? In the meantime, Miss
Camphelia--for so she had been christened--cooed, gurgled, and dimpled
with delight at each new mother who bathed and dressed her in silent
adoration of the tyrant of the camp.
* * * * *
Nathalie stirred restlessly, jumbled up her pillow, and then flopped
over with a sigh. O dear, why couldn't she go to sleep? It was not near
time to get up!
"Nathalie Page, what ails you?" came in exasperated tone from the other
bed. "You have been wiggling, bouncing, jumping, and sighing like a
porpoise for half the night. For pity's sake do go to sleep!"
Nathalie made no reply, assured that if she did she would betray what a
baby she was.
"What does ail you anyway?" persisted Helen in a softer tone. "Have you
been doing the green-apple act like Carol, and--"
"Oh, it's just Nita," replied the girl dolefully. "You see it is this
way, Helen. I told Mrs. Van Vorst that if Nita could mingle with girls
about her own age it would do her a world of good." Nathalie sat up in
bed and began to hug her knees. "So, you see, I feel responsible in a
measure to see that she gets a good time, but dear me, she is just
having a horrible time!"
"How do you know?" questioned Helen, "she--"
"Oh, the poor little thing mopes and cries all the time. She won't admit
it, but she doesn't want me out of her sight. Really, Helen, I know it
is selfish when she is so afflicted--" Nathalie's voice quavered, "but I
do want a bit of fun myself sometimes."
"Well, I should say!" was Helen's ejaculation. "But I wouldn't worry
over it. She's selfish, that's all, and shouldn't be encouraged. I have
noticed that she is terribly offish with the girls, and they are half
afraid to be pleasant with her."
"Oh, she does not mean to be offish, as you say," answered Nathalie
quickly, "she is shy, and sensitive. I think she imagines the girls do
not care for her because she is a humpback. If there was only some way
by which she could become better acquainted with the girls, and give
them a chance to know her better! She's an awfully bright little thing,
and I know she would be a prime favorite, for there's lots of fun in
her. She's just pining--well--for love."
"Humph!" came from Helen, "she gets enough of it from her mother and
Ellen; they spoil her."
"Yes, I know, but that is what she doesn't want--mother-coddling. What
she wants is to come out here and kick around as one of us in a rough
and tumble way. Then she would get over her sensitiveness, but somehow I
can't seem to manage it."
There was silence for a moment as both girls fell to thinking. All at
once Helen bounced up in bed crying, "There, Nathalie, I have nailed
it!"
"Nailed it?" repeated her companion. "Why--"
"Oh, you know what I mean, I mean about Nita. Now listen to Solon the
Wise. You get Nita to come and sleep in this tent--"
"Where, on the floor?" inquired Nathalie teasingly.
"You know what I mean--on my cot. I'll take her room. Then you drill her
to take her part with the other girls, and so on, just as if she were
one of us. In three days I'll come back and take my turn with her, and
you take my place. Then in three days again let Lillie take a turn, and
so on until the turns have gone the rounds, each girl being her
tent-mate for three days. In that way she will become acquainted and
have a chance to get in with us."
"Oh, Helen, you are the brightest--but suppose she won't come?"
"Won't be your tent-mate? Why, she worships the ground you walk on!
That's one thing that ails her, Nathalie, she's jealous of the girls,
because in a way she is outside of it all. Get her into harness like the
rest of us and in ten days' time she'll be like another girl, or you can
shut me up for a lunatic."
Nathalie, as soon as possible after the morning conference, had a little
talk with her Director, and finding that she agreed with Helen, sought
Mrs. Van Vorst and laid before her the new plan. Of course she found
that she had a number of objections to fight from that lady, but
eventually she won, and it was decided that for the rest of the time in
camp Nita Van Vorst was to be lost to her mother's bungalow, for to her
unbounded joy she was to be one of the girls!
It was bathing hour, and Nathalie, with bugle in hand, was patroling the
beach, keeping her brain and eyes keenly alert, for some of the girls
were careless, and would swim out beyond the raft.
Carol was giving her considerable trouble, for having just mastered the
art of swimming she had become very daring, doing her best to "show off"
before the girls. Her companions had promised to keep an eye on her, but
Nathalie knew that when they were sporting about in the water they were
apt to forget their duty.
Her eyes swept from one group to the other. Ah, the Sport was swimming
out to the raft! How well she looked in that red cap, and what a
beautiful swimmer she was, so free and graceful in her movements!
Hearing a sudden cry, as she thought, Nathalie turned and glanced at
Carol. Good! she had stopped her antics of pretending she was sinking.
Her eyes again wandered to Edith, why where was she? There was her red
cap bobbing on the water, what new trick was she up to now? She had
thrown up her arms. Oh, was she screaming? Pshaw, she was just fooling
as usual, what a plague she was!
Nathalie strained her eyes, why, yes, she _was_ screaming! she had gone
down again! Just a moment, and then as Nathalie saw the red cap bob up
again and heard another piercing shriek, she realized that Edith was
drowning! Nathalie's brain spun like a wheel--what should she do--she
glanced helplessly around. Where was Helen?
"Edith is drowning!" she tried to shriek, but her voice sounded faint,
as if far away. O God! and then she remembered. Up went her bugle and
two loud blasts--the danger signal that some one was drowning--rang
sharply over the water.
Just a moment, and then with a sudden swirl through the air, Nathalie
had leaped into the water, and with long, swift strokes swam towards the
spot where she had seen the red cap go down! Ah, she was almost there!
As Edith threw up her arms again with another frenzied scream, for help,
Nathalie grabbed her under the shoulders. But Edith, with a hysterical
cry, threw her arms around her neck. Oh, she was dragging her down!
Nathalie regained control of herself, and was frantically beating back
the clutching arms. She had swung her around; she tried to get a firmer
grip, but a nameless fear was pinching her heart. She felt her strength
was giving out! Then she heard Helen's voice crying, "Don't lose your
hold, Nathalie, we're almost there!"
Edith was so heavy; Nathalie tried to tighten her grip; she was more
quiet now. Oh, could it be? She heard the purling of water and saw, but
dimly, something dark moving towards her. Oh, if they would only hurry?
Some one had caught hold of Edith and was dragging--
When Nathalie regained her consciousness it was to hear Mrs. Morrow's
voice crying, "Poor little Blue Robin!" She opened her eyes to see the
doctor bending over her while Mrs. Morrow peeped over his shoulder with
a cheery smile. "Edith?" she gasped, making an attempt to rise.
"As snug as a bug in a rug," rejoined the doctor promptly, "and you will
be, too, if you will drink this."
Nathalie meekly obeyed. She was so tired, would she ever get rested? But
she did, and a few hours later was half sitting up on her cot supported
by pillows, surrounded by a group of sober-faced girls all eagerly
listening as she told how it came about. "If she hadn't gripped me so
hard," she ended as she sank back on the pillows, beginning to feel
tired again, "I could have managed." Then suddenly a queer little smile
curved her mouth and drawing Helen down to her she whispered softly,
"Helen, do you remember the day Edith ducked us when we were off in the
boat, and how I declared I would get even?" Her friend nodded gravely.
"Well," said Nathalie, still with that queer little smile, "I have got
one on her, haven't I?"
A cheer fire was in progress, and a noisy one at that. The Pioneers had
spent the afternoon and evening of the previous day over at the camp
across the Lake at an entertainment called Scout Day, given in their
honor by their friends.
Certainly it had been a most wonderful Scout Day, for there had been
scouts saluting the colors, giving calls, making signals, lighting
fires, and building shacks, tepees, and miniature log huts. Scouts, too,
had engaged in all kinds of drills, contests, and races, such as tilting
jousts, hand-wrestling, spear fighting and sham battles. And the games!
They were a revelation to the girls in the uniqueness and cleverness of
the ideas displayed. They had found, too, that scouts knew how to cook
the very things dear to a camper's heart, and sing--well, about every war
and camp song known.
The Camp Circus presented the ludicrous side of these knights of
chivalry, as they did clown stunts, causing the girls to laugh
immoderately. After supper had come a firefly dance, which made strong
appeal to the weird and mystic in every girl's nature, as they watched
the scouts swing about the blazing light in strange and grotesque
evolution.
Perhaps the best was the scouts on the water, when, with a flotilla of
row-boats and canoes decorated with the figures of paper animals, and
brilliantly aglow with Japanese lights they glided over the water, the
motion of the boats making the lights look like fireflies dancing in the
air.
The jolly times given by the scouts must be returned! When, how, and
where, were the three questions causing no little agitation, when Carol,
with a white, frightened face, leaped into their midst crying, "Oh,
girls, the baby has a fit!"
On hearing this startling statement some of the girls began to cry,
others jumped up and wrung their hands frantically, while a few made a
wild dash for Mrs. Van Vorst's bungalow. Helen fortunately kept cool,
and, perceiving that a panic would ensue, seized her bugle and blew it
quickly.
This halted the stampede, arrested the hysterical ones midway between a
sob and a cry, and caused a sudden quiet to fall, as she cried, in a
loud clear voice, "Girls, keep perfectly still. Nathalie Page, Edith
Whiton, and Lillie Bell, I appoint a committee of three to go and see if
Carol's report is so, and whether our services are needed. And please,
Pioneers," she called out as the three girls sprang on their feet, "one
of you girls come back and let us know how things are progressing, as we
shall all be anxious to know."
The next moment the three girls were running swiftly after Carol, who,
immediately after delivering her news, had started to run back to the
bungalow.
"Now, girls," continued Helen, "let us go on talking. Of course we are
all worried, for we just love that baby!" she paused for a second, "but
we can't all help. Mrs. Morrow will let us know if we can do anything,
so in the meantime, let us go on thinking up ideas."
A cheer greeted this speech as a tribute to their leader's level head
and courage, for this was not the first time that she had preserved her
poise, and held the scales when unduly weighted on the wrong side.
Yes, it was true, little Camphelia was writhing in convulsions on Mrs.
Morrow's lap, while Mrs. Van Vorst bent over her with agitated
movements, applying with Ellen's help hot water, and mustard, and such
remedies as were available at the moment.
Nathalie touched Mrs. Van Vorst softly on the arm, "Is there anything we
girls can do?" Her eyes were big with anxious fear.
"Oh, I don't know," replied that lady distractedly; "if the doctor were
only here!"
"Blue Robin, is that you?" asked Mrs. Morrow quickly, as she heard
Nathalie's voice. "Oh, we must have help! How unfortunate the doctor had
to go to the city to-day! But, Nathalie, can't you send a wireless to
Dr. Homer? Tell him to come immediately, for the baby is very ill!"
But Nathalie was already out of the sound of her voice, as with quick,
light steps she ran to the girls who, with white distressed faces,
awaited her on the veranda. "Mrs. Morrow says to send a wireless to Dr.
Homer over at camp," she explained hurriedly, "but I am afraid we won't
get him, as the wireless hours are nine, twelve and eight, and it is not
eight yet."
"Oh, yes it is," returned Lillie, "five minutes to eight," looking up
from her little wrist-watch in its leather bandlet. "I'm sure we shall
catch him."
The girls hurried to the boat-house and climbed up to the little cupola,
where Dr. Morrow, on first coming to camp, had installed his wireless
apparatus. The Pioneers had been somewhat mystified by this procedure,
wondering of what use a wireless would be to him up there in those
woods. But the doctor had soon demonstrated that it was not only one of
the most useful things about camp, but one of the most entertaining.
He had not only been able to discuss with his fellow physician across
the lake many professional questions that he came across in his medical
books now and then, or letters from his colleague in Westport, who had
charge of some of his important cases, but at times had been able to
give valuable advice to the younger physician when dealing with some
refractory or eccentric scout.
But the doctor had done more than this, for he had gathered the four
older girls, Helen, Edith, Lillie, and Nathalie together, and given them
lessons in wireless telegraphy, so that they were soon glibly talking
about ether waves, spark-coils, condensers, tuners, keys, and so on, in
a way that proved his lessons had been well learned. They had, in fact,
not only learned the Morse code, so that they could "listen in" when the
doctor was "picking up" an S. O. S. call from some ship in distress, but
they had heard many a wireless message from some signal station, or from
some out-going or in-coming sea craft.
At first it had seemed quite odd that although their little amateur
apparatus could send messages only within a radius of five miles, it was
able to receive them from a distance of over a thousand. They became so
proficient in this click-clack language that they were soon sending
aerograms, or wireless messages, to the camp across the Lake for the
doctor. Sometimes, too, they sent messages to their scout friends, a
privilege only accorded after the messages had been read by their
Director, so as to avoid senseless talk or idle gossip.
As soon as the girls reached the little wooden table holding the
wireless, Lillie and Edith instinctively drew back, feeling that as
Nathalie was the one who had found the baby she had the prior right to
send this call for help. Seating herself, Nathalie quickly adjusted the
telephones over her ears and set to work. But to her surprise, as she
pressed the wireless key on the detector to close the circuit, she heard
no sharp crack, and saw no spark-gap. Again she tried with like result.
"Why, what is the matter with it?" she questioned turning towards the
girls in some trepidation.
"Let me try," pleaded Lillie. But alas, she met with no better luck than
Nathalie, although she tried one experiment after the other. "I think it
is the strangest thing," she commented staring helplessly before her;
"what can be the matter with the thing anyway?"
But Edith, who had dropped down on her hands and knees to examine the
battery under the wooden board, now rose to her feet crying, "There is
nothing the matter with the condenser, it must be that the aerial wires
are not right!"
As the girl made this announcement there was an ominous silence as they
stared with distressed, worried faces at one another. "Oh, what can we
do?" lamented Nathalie, "could we--"
"I know what we can do," said Lillie suddenly; "we can row across the
Lake to the camp!"