THE FLYING SQUADRON
"Oh, Grace, what do you think?" Thus asked Madaline without hint or
warning.
"Think? This is no time for thinking," answered Grace, who was busying
herself with a complicated system of cords. "I'm trying to puzzle out
the best way to demonstrate a sheep-shank knot," and she kept on with
her endeavor, flipping the cord ends this way and that, while Madaline,
all impatience, looked down at her chum.
"Trying to tie a sheep-shank!" gasped the Bearer of tidings, as she
presently proved herself to be. "Why, the very idea! You passed that
test long ago--you're no tenderfoot!"
"I know it, but Captain Clark said she was going to ask me to show a
new group of candidates some knots, and I thought I'd practice a bit."
"Practice!" repeated Madaline, "well, to use your own words, this is no
time to practice. Oh, Grace! I can hardly tell you!"
"Don't tell me it's anything bad!" exclaimed the manipulator of the
knots. "Has anything happened? Is Cleo or Margaret--"
"No, no! It isn't anything like that. Cleo and Margaret are all right,
and they'll be here in a little while. I ran on ahead to tell you, and
Captain Clark is coming, too, with them."
"Well, of all things!" Grace burst out, laying aside the strings.
"Something simply must have happened. Do you mean to say the delegation
is waiting on me, to inform me that I have been picked out for some
signal honor, ahem!" and she rose, bowing elaborately.
"We have all been picked out for signal honor!" bubbled Madaline. "You
aren't the only one. Put up that knot business. You can show the
tenderfeet when you get back."
"Oh, are we going away?" asked Grace. "Mystery piled on mystery. Do
tell me!"
"I thought I'd get you anxious," laughed Madaline. "Well, it's just
this, and it's simply glorious! We're going camping!"
"Camping? Who? When? Where? What, and all the rest of it?" and she
fired the questions in a well-aimed volley at her friend.
"Just we four and the Captain, of course," resumed Madaline, seating
herself on a mossy log beside Grace, who had selected this seat in the
woods as a silent seclusion, there to evolve a scheme for imparting
primary knowledge of Girl Scout work, to a group of younger members who
had lately joined.
"We called at your house to tell you," continued Madaline, "but your
mother said you were over here in the woods, so we came to find
you--all four of us. I just ran on ahead--I couldn't wait for the
others."
"I'm so glad you did," said Grace, warmly. "But how does it come that
we four are picked out from all the troop?"
"Well, I fancy it's because we sort of out-did ourselves in the tests,
and helped to get such, a satisfactory report. Captain Clark said she
wanted to reward us in some way, and the opportunity came, so she
pounced on it, or seized it or grasped it--you know--whatever you
properly should do to an opportunity."
"Grasped is the word, I believe," Grace decided. "But what is the
opportunity?"
"To go camping," retorted Madaline.
"Friends of Captain Clark have offered her the use of their perfectly
gorgeous camp in Allbright Woods. It's a place none of us has ever
visited, and well just have scrumptious times. We're to spend the
week-end here--just Captain Clark and we four. She asked some of the
other girls, but they couldn't make it. Now drop all this knotty
business, be joyous, hurry, and get ready. They'll be here in a minute.
Isn't that good news?"
"The best ever," assented Grace, and then, as she gathered up her
strings, there appeared, coming through the grove of trees, Captain
Clark, Margaret and Cleo.
"Whoo-oo!" came the gleeful greeting, and hands fluttered as if
conveying, in wig-wag talk, the joyous message.
"Did she tell you, Grace?" cooed Cleo.
"Wasn't that what I sprinted on ahead for?" demanded Madaline.
"And do say you can go!" begged Margaret.
"Is it really so, Captain?" asked Grace, a bit timidly, as if she
feared to trust the good news. "Are we going camping?"
"As if a true Girl Scout ever joked!" mocked Madaline.
"Well, I know you of old, before you became a G. S.," retorted Grace.
"Yes, my dear, we are really to spend a week-end in the woods if you
can manage it," replied Captain Clark. "Some generous friends of mine,
who have been unexpectedly called away from their place for a time,
have offered to let me use it. And I could think of no better way of
rewarding you four for your faithful work, than to give you this
opportunity. I am sorry more could not manage to go, but it could not
be arranged. So, Grace, if you will come back with us, and see if your
folks will not object, we shall begin our preparations at once."
"Oh, they won't object--not when I talk to them!" declared the girl, in
a tone that made the others laugh. "But how do we go; by train!"
"No, we are going in an auto, and all you need to take will be your
personal belongings. The camp is stocked with food, and there is even a
cook and a caretaker, a colored man and his wife."
"Say, this is camping de luxe!" exclaimed Cleo. "Wouldn't it be more
fun to rough it?"
"It will be rough enough," asserted the Captain. "We shall be allowed
to cook for ourselves if we choose, but the helpers are there in case
of emergency."
"In case the eggs refuse to scramble," murmured Margaret.
"Something like that, yes," assented Captain Clark.
As had been expected and hoped, there was no objection raised at the
home of Grace, and two days later found the happy four, under the
guidance of Captain Clark, on their way to Camp Nomoko, in the
Allbright Woods. It was the best reward that could have been devised
for the girls, and they expressed genuine sorrow at the fate of others
of True Tred who must be left behind for one reason or another. But the
girls of the troop were not to be exactly desolate during the days
their more fortunate friends were camping--Flosston in itself offered
many happy opportunities.
"Are the Allbright Woods very wild?" asked Grace, as the auto left the
main road and began the trip along a less frequented highway, the day
following the inception of the plan.
"Wild enough, I fancy you'll find," said the Captain. "My friends think
it an ideal outdoor place in many respects. I hope you will like it."
"Don't worry, please, we shall," declared Margaret.
Each girl took along a small suitcase, filled with such belongings as
she thought she would need. These, of course, included their complete
scout uniforms, while they wore dresses of plain but serviceable
material, which would almost serve the purpose of their khaki outfits,
in case they were obliged, for any reason, to lay those aside in camp.
It was decided two outfits were necessary, and the uniforms packed
easiest.
Captain Clark's friends had even sent their car for the girls to make
the trip to Nomoko, so there was really little for the quartette to do
except pack up and start. As Cleo had remarked it was almost camping de
luxe.
The journey, though enjoyable, was almost lost in the real joy of
camping anticipation.
"Here we are!" announced the Captain, after a ride of about four hours
in the car, during which time no worse mishap occurred than a blowout,
and for this the chauffeur was ready with an already inflated "spare,"
so little time was lost in replacing the tire.
"Does he stay with us--at camp, I mean?" asked Cleo in a whisper,
pointing to the driver, as the car swung into a rough wood road.
"No, he is to go back to his own duties as soon as he leaves us at
Nomoko," answered Captain Clark in a low voice. "But he will bring us
home Tuesday, when my friends return to their tents."
"And will we be left all alone in the camp, without means of getting
out of the woods if we want to go?" asked Margaret.
"Well, I believe there is a branch railroad line about ten miles away,"
said Captain Clark, "and if we have to--"
"We can walk, of course!" interrupted Cleo. "That's a mere sprint. A
ten-mile hike is a trifle."
"Did you say triffle or truffle?" asked Grace.
"Truffles don't grow here, nothing but mushrooms and toadstools," broke
in Margaret. "All Girl Scouts ought to know that!" "Thanks for the
information," retorted Grace. "Oh, what a perfectly scrumptious place!"
she exclaimed as, after some rather severe jolting and swaying from
side to side, the auto came to a stop in the depths of a grove of
trees, amid which were pitched several tents and a slab-sided shack;
from the stovepipe of the shack smoke drifted, and with it emanated the
most appetizing odors.
"This is Nomoko," said Captain Clarke, as she nodded a greeting to the
colored caretaker and his wife, the latter appearing in the door of the
shack, with a red bandanna handkerchief tied around her kinky head. "I
have been here before."
"Are you all right?" asked Zeb, the colored man. "No accidents or
nothin'?"
"Nothing at all, Zeb, I'm glad to say," was the Captain's answer. "We
are here right side up with care. And will you tell Mrs. Nelson that
for me," she went on to the chauffeur who, with the help of Zeb, was
lifting out the baggage and valises.
"I will; yes'm," was the reply. "I am to bring them back here Tuesday
morning, and get you. I hope you enjoy your stay."
"Thank you, I know we shall," and the Captain's words found echo in the
hearts of the girls.
"Let's go fishing! I see a stream that ought to have fish in!" cried
Cleo.
"Let's get our uniforms on and go for a hike. I've never been in these
woods before!" cried Margaret.
"Let's see if we can find any specimens--fossils or the like," came
from Cleo, who had lately developed a collecting fever.
"Let's eat!" declaimed Grace. "I'm starved!"
"I think the last suggestion is best," decided Captain Clark. "We can
soon change into our uniforms, and after a meal, which I judge should
be called dinner instead of lunch, we may take a walk, or fish, or
hike, or fossilize, as you then elect."
"De dinnah am 'mos' ready," announced Alameda, the colored cook.
"Oh, where have I heard them joyous words before?" cried Cleo,
pretending to faint into Margaret's arms.
"I golly! Dem suah am lively li'l gals! Dey suah am!" declared Zeb, as
he went off to get a fresh pail of water at the spring.
Soon the jolly little party, having the really well-appointed camp to
themselves, sat down to a wild-wood meal. To say they enjoyed it is
putting it mildly--far too mildly; they were "transported with joy,"
Grace insisted.
"I declare! It's a shame to stay here any longer!" announced Cleo
finally, although the joy had not been entirely consumed.
"Do you mean you're ashamed of eating so much?" asked Grace.
"No, but it's a pity to waste this glorious day in, just staying around
camp. Let's go down to the brook, river or whatever it is."
"And may we fish?" asked Margaret.
"I think so. I'll ask Zeb if there are some rods that may be trusted to
amateurs," replied the Captain.
There were, as it developed, and presently equipped with all that was
needed for the sport, the little party set off through the woods,
following a direction Zeb gave them to locate the best fishing place.
It was no new experience for the quartette, led by the Captain, to hike
through the woods, but something really new awaited them this time, as
they soon discovered to their sorrow.
Cleo was in the lead and, after plunging through a rather thick growth
of underbrush, she suddenly uttered a cry.
"What is it--a snake?" asked Margaret, who followed.
"If it is, don't get excited," warned the Captain, who heard the
exclamation. "There are absolutely no poisonous snakes in this
vicinity, and any other kind is more frightened of you than you can
possibly be of him, girls," she insisted.
"It isn't snakes!" cried Cleo. "I almost wish it were. Oh, aren't they
horrible! Run, girls, run back, or you'll be eaten up!" and she beat
such a hasty retreat, meanwhile wildly flinging her arms up and around
her head, that she collided with Margaret, and nearly toppled her into
a sassafras bush.
"Oh, I feel 'em, too!" Margaret cried. "Oh, what pests!"
"What in the world is the matter?" demanded Grace, from the rear. "If
we're ever going to fish let's get to the water."
"I'm never going to fish if I have to fight such things as these!"
cried Cleo. "Back! Back to the tents!"
"What is it?" cried Captain Clark. "Are you girls fooling?"
But a moment later, as she felt herself attacked on hands and face, she
realized what it was.
"The flying squadron!" she exclaimed. "We must retreat, girls, and get
ammunition. I forgot about these."
"The flying squadron? What does she mean?" murmured Cleo, to whom
knowledge had not yet come.