"Wohelo--wohelo--wo-_he_-lo!"
The clear, musical call, rising from the green tangle of the forest that
fringed the bay, seemed to float lingeringly above the treetops and out
over the wide stretch of gleaming water, to a girl in a green canoe, who
listened intently until the last faint echo died away, then began
paddling rapidly towards the wooded slope. The sun, just dropping below
the horizon, flooded the western sky with a blaze of colour that turned
the wide waters into a sea of gold, through which the little craft
glided swiftly, scattering from its slender prow showers of shining
drops.
"I'm going to find out what that means," the girl said under her breath.
"It sounds like an Indian call, but I'm sure those were not Indian
voices."
On and on, steadily, swiftly, swept the green canoe, until, rounding a
wooded point, it slipped suddenly into a beautiful little cove where
there was a floating dock with a small fleet of canoes and rowboats
surrounding it, and steps leading up the slope. The girl smiled as she
stepped lightly out on the dock, and fastened her canoe to one of the
rings.
"A girls' camp it surely is," she said to herself. "I'm going to get a
glimpse of it anyhow."
Running up the steps, she followed a well-trodden path through a pine
grove, and in a few minutes, through the trees, she caught the gleam of
white tents and stopped to reconnoitre. A dozen or more tents were set
irregularly around an open space; also there was a large frame building
with canvas instead of boarding on two sides, and adjoining this a small
frame shack, evidently a kitchen--and girls were everywhere.
"O, I'm hungry for girls!" breathed the one peering through the green
branches. "I wonder if I dare venture----" She broke off abruptly,
staring in surprise at a group approaching her. Then she ran forward
crying out, "Why, Anne Wentworth--to think of finding you here!"
"To think of finding _you_ here, Laura Haven! Where did you drop from?"
cried the other. The two were holding each other's hands and looking
into each other's faces with eyes full of glad surprise.
"I? I didn't drop--I climbed--up the steps from the landing," Laura
laughed. "I was out on the bay in my canoe--we came up yesterday in the
yacht--and I heard that beautiful Indian call, and I just _had_ to find
out where it came from, and what it meant. I suspected a girls' camp,
but of course I never dreamed of finding you here. Do tell me all about
it. It is a camp, isn't it?"
"Yes, we are Camp Fire Girls," Anne Wentworth replied. She glanced
behind her, but the others had disappeared. "They vanished for fear they
might be in the way," she said. "O Laura, I'm so glad you're here, for
this is the night for our Council Fire. You can stay to it, can't
you--I'm sure you would be interested."
"Stay--how long? It's after sunset now."
"O, stay all night with me, and all day to-morrow. You must stay to the
Council Fire to-night, anyhow."
"I'd love to dearly, but father won't know where I am." Laura's voice
was full of regret.
"Why can't you go back and tell him? I'll go with you," Anne suggested.
"Will there be time before your Council Fire?"
"Yes, if we hurry--wait one minute." Anne called to the nearest girl,
gave her a brief message, and turned again to her friend. "Come on,
we've no time to lose, but I know how you can make a canoe fly," she
said, and hand-in-hand the two went scurrying through the grove and down
to the landing. Then while the canoe swept swiftly over the water, Anne
Wentworth answered the eager questions of her friend.
"It's a new organisation--the Camp Fire Girls," she explained. "It is
something like the Boy Scouts only, I think, planned on broader lines
and with higher and finer ideals--at any rate it is better suited for
girls. It aims to help them to be healthy, useful, trustworthy, and
happy. Health--work--love--as shown in service--these are the ideals on
which we try to build. We have three grades. First a girl becomes a Wood
Gatherer; then after passing certain tests, a Fire Maker, then a Torch
Bearer."
"And which are you?" Laura asked.
"I'm a Guardian--that is, I am the head of one of our city Camp Fires.
Mrs. Royall is our Chief Guardian." She went on to explain about the
work and play, the tests and rewards, ending with, "But you'll
understand it all so much better after our Council Fire to-night."
Laura nodded. "What kind of girls is it for--poor girls--working
girls?" she asked.
"It is for any kind of girls--just girls, you know. Of course we can't
admit any bad ones, nothing else matters. Dorothy Groves is one of my
twelve, and I've two dear little High School girls; all the rest are
working girls. They can stay here at the camp only two weeks--some of
them only ten days--the working girls, I mean, and it would make your
heart ache to see how much those ten days mean to them, and how
intensely they enjoy even the commonest pleasures of camping out."
"Who pays for them?" Laura demanded.
"They pay for themselves. It's no charity, and the charges are very low.
They wouldn't come if it were charity."
Laura shook her head half impatiently. "It's so hard to get a chance
really to help the ones who need help most," she said.
"Yes, it surely is," Anne agreed; and then they were alongside the big
white yacht with its shining brass, and Judge Haven was helping them up
the steps.
Fifteen minutes later they were on their way back to the camp, but this
time in a boat rowed by two of the crew. The last golden gleam of the
afterglow was fading slowly in the West as the two girls came again
through the pines into the open space between the tents. Mrs. Royall met
them and made Laura cordially welcome.
"She's just the right one--a real camp mother," Anne said, as she led
her friend over to a group gathered on the grass before one of the
tents. "And these are my own girls," she added, introducing each by
name.
[Illustration: "At last a tiny puff of smoke arose"]
"You've got to take me right in," Laura told them. "I can't help it if
I am an odd number--I'm going to belong to this particular Camp Fire
to-night."
"Of course we'll take you in, and love to. Aren't you Miss Anne's
friend?" said one, as she snuggled down on the grass beside Laura. "It's
so nice you came on our Council Fire night!"
Laura's eyes swept the group. "It must be nice--you all look so happy,"
she answered.
Anne Wentworth excused herself for a few minutes, and Laura settled back
against a tree with a little sigh of content. "I've been abroad for a
year," she said, "and it seems so good to be with girls again--American
girls! Please, won't you forget that I am here and talk just as if I
were not? I want to sit still and enjoy the place and you
and--everything, for a bit, before your Council begins."
With ready courtesy they took her at her word, and chatted of camp plans
and happenings until the talk was interrupted by a clear musical call
that floated softly out of the gathering dusk.
"How beautiful! What is it?" Laura asked as all the girls started up.
"It's the bugle call to the Council," one explained, "and here comes
Miss Anne."
Laura glanced curiously at her friend's dress. It was a long loose
garment of dark brown, fringed at the bottom and the sleeves. A band of
beadwork was fastened over her forehead, and she wore a long necklace of
bright-coloured beads.
"What is it--a robe of state?" Laura inquired.
"Yes, the ceremonial dress," Anne told her, "but you can't see in this
light how pretty it is. Come on, we must join the procession."
"What has become of your girls?" Laura asked. "They were here a moment
ago."
"They have gone to get their necklaces," Anne returned. "My girls are
all Wood Gatherers as yet--we've not been organised long, you know; but
they've been working hard for honours, and for every honour they are
entitled to add a bead to their necklaces."
"Yours then must represent a great many honours."
"Yes," Anne replied. "You see it incites the girls to work for honours
when they see that their Guardians have worked and won them. The red
beads show that the wearer has won health honours by keeping free from
colds, headaches, etc., for a number of months, or by sleeping out of
doors, or doing some sort of athletics--walking, swimming, rowing, and
the like. The blue ones are for nature study, the black and gold for
business, and so on. Each bead has a meaning for the girl--it tells a
story--and the more she wins, the finer her record, of course."
"What a splendid idea! And how the girls will prize their necklaces
by-and-by, and enjoy recalling the stories connected with them!"
"Yes," Anne agreed, "they will hand them down to their daughters as a
new kind of heirloom, but----" with a laugh she added, "that's looking a
long way ahead, isn't it?"
By this time the two were in the midst of a merry procession of girls
from twelve to twenty, perhaps a third of them wearing the ceremonial
dress.
"What a gay company they are!" Laura commented, as the procession
followed a winding path through the woods, a few carrying lanterns. "Is
there anything in the world, Anne, lovelier than a crowd of happy
girls?"
"Nothing," her friend assented in a low tone. "And, Laura, if you could
only see the difference a few days here make in some of the girls who
have had all work and no play--like some of mine! It is so delightful to
see them grow merry and glad day by day. But here we are. This is our
Council Chamber."
"I want as many eyes as a spider so that I can look every way at once,"
Laura cried as the girls arranged themselves in a large circle. "What
are those girls over there doing?"
"They are the Fire Makers. They were Wood Gatherers for over three
months, and have met the requirements for the second class. Some of the
others are to be made Fire Makers to-night. Watch Mary Walsh--the one
rubbing two sticks. She will make fire without matches--or at least she
will try to."
The girl, with one knee on the ground, was rubbing one stick briskly
back and forth in the groove of another. A little group beside her
watched her with eager interest, two of them holding lanterns, and Mrs.
Royall stood near her, watch in hand. The talk and laughter had ceased
as the circle formed, and now in silence, all eyes were centred on the
girl. Faster and faster her hands moved to the accompaniment of a
whining, scraping sound that rose at intervals to a shrill squeak. At
last a tiny puff of smoke arose, and the girl blew carefully until she
had a glowing spark, which she fed with tiny shreds of wood, until
suddenly it blazed up brightly. Then, springing lightly to her feet,
she stood erect, the flaming wood in her outstretched hand distinctly
revealing her happy, triumphant face against the dark background of the
pines.
There was a quick clamour of applause as Mrs. Royall announced, "Thirty
seconds within the time limit, Mary. Well done! Now light the Council
Fire."
The girl stepped forward and touched her flaming brand to the wood that
had been made ready by the other Fire Makers, and soon the flames began
to blaze and crackle, filling the air with a spicy fragrance, and
sending a vivid glow across the circle of intent young faces. Laura
caught her breath as she looked around the circle.
"What a picture!" she whispered. "It is lovely--lovely!"
At a signal from Mrs. Royall the girls now gathered closer about the
fire and began to chant all together,
"'Wohelo--wohelo--wohelo.
Wohelo means love.
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.
Wohelo means love.'"
Then louder swelled the chorus,
"'Wohelo for aye,
Wohelo for aye,
Wohelo, wohelo, wohelo for aye.'"
The last note was followed by a moment of utter silence; then one side
of the circle chanted,
"'Wohelo for work!'"
and the opposite side flung back,
"'Wohelo for health!'"
and all together they chorused exultantly,
"'Wohelo, wohelo, wohelo for love!'"
Then in unison, led by Anne Wentworth, the beautiful Fire Ode was
repeated,
"'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 savoury 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.'"
In a few clear-cut sentences Mrs. Royall spoke of the Camp Fire
symbolism--of fire as the living, renewing, all-pervading element--"Our
brother the fire, bright and pleasant, and very mighty and strong," as
being the underlying spirit--the heart of this new order of the girls of
America, as the hearth-fire is the heart of the home. She spoke of the
brown chevron with the crossed sticks, the symbol of the Wood Gatherer,
the blue and orange symbol of the Fire Maker, and the complete insignia
combining both of these with the touch of white representing smoke from
the flame, worn by the Torch Bearer, trying to make clear and vivid the
beautiful meaning of it all.
When the roll-call was read, each girl, as she answered to her name,
gave also the number of honours she had earned since the last meeting.
It was then that Laura, watching the absorbed faces, shook her head with
a sigh as her eyes met Anne's; and Anne nodded with quick understanding.
"Yes," she whispered, "there is some rivalry. It isn't all love and
harmony--yet. But we are working that way all the time."
There was a report of the last Council, written in rather limping rhyme,
and then each girl told of some kind or gentle deed she had seen or
heard of since the last meeting--things ranging all the way from hunting
for a lost glove to going for the doctor at midnight when a girl was
taken suddenly ill in camp. Only one had no kindness to tell. And when
she reported "Nothing" it was as if a shadow fell for a moment over all
the young faces turned towards her.
"Who is that? Her voice sounds so unhappy!" Laura said, and her friend
answered, "I'll tell you about her afterwards. Her name is Olga Priest.
There's a new member to be received to-night. Here she comes."
Laura watched the new member as she stepped out of the circle, and
crossed over to the Chief Guardian.
[Illustration: "Soon the flames began to blaze and crackle, filling the
air with a spicy fragrance"]
"What is your desire?" Mrs. Royall asked, and the girl answered,
"I desire to become a Camp Fire Girl and to obey the law of the Camp
Fire, which is to
"Seek beauty,
Give service,
Pursue knowledge,
Hold on to health,
Glorify work,
Be happy.'