THE FIRST CANOE TRIP
“We want six more for the war canoe,” shouted the swimming teacher
from the stern of that long, graceful, dark blue vessel.
“Come on, Miss West.”
“Throw me a life preserver to sit on,—please—we’re going three in
this canoe.”
“You and I, Frances,” said Marion.
“No, you and I, Marion,” firmly insisted another girl, both Frances
and Marion yielding to avoid controversy.
“Four more for the war canoe,” from the megaphone again.
“All right, Betty,” said Hilary, “you and Cathalina go on in the war
canoe,—they need more and it will be easier for you, I believe. Lil
and I will take this one by ourselves. Do you want to paddle bow or
stern, Lil?”
“I don’t care, Hilary.”
“You’re not quite so husky as I am, and stern will be hard for you
if you aren’t used to it. I guess you’d better paddle bow.”
“Not for that reason, Hilary. Why should you take the hardest
place?”
A good-natured squabble followed, in which Hilary won, settled
Lilian in the bow and pushed the canoe out from the sands, jumping
in at the stern. “I’ve got that dandy stroke that Mr. Clark showed
me. It keeps the canoe going straight forward and you rest your
paddle just a second on the edge, so it’s easier.” As Hilary spoke
she gave the shore a final push with her paddle, and sent the canoe
gliding smoothly into the deeper water.
“O, isn’t this fun? I just adore canoeing!”
“Adoration, exclamation, consummation,” murmured Lilian.
“Hesitation, coronation,—there are about a hundred of ’em if you are
wanting a rhyme.”
One by one the pretty canoes were selected and launched. At first
there was apparent confusion as the girls flitted hither and
thither, choosing paddles and partners under the general oversight
of the athletic director and swimming teacher, but at last the fleet
was ready to depart.
The occasion was a picnic at Swan’s Island, a large island in
Merrymeeting Bay. As this was the first real canoe trip of any
length, only the good paddlers and swimmers were permitted to take
out the canoes. The rest went in the Aeolus and Truant, while the
Midget with a few passengers carried the lunch. Up to this time
there had been instruction, and paddling within certain limits.
Aeolus and Truant led the way. The war canoe followed, with even
strokes of the paddles, a great improvement over the first “ragtime”
efforts. Then the other canoes, by ones and twos, swept out from
shore to round the point into Merrymeeting Bay.
“Look out, Hilary, don’t go out too far. The current is awfully
strong out there. Look at Eloise and Helen. My! Are they going to
make it? They may have an upset if they are carried down to those
rocks.”
Eloise, Evelyn and Helen had gone out too far from the Merrymeeting
banks and were struggling against both current and tide, which was
going out. But they paddled away, while the Midget was watching to
see if they needed help, and had just started toward the girls when
they drew out of the stronger current and came up to the other
boats.
“Why did we start so late and against the tide?” asked Lilian.
“Didn’t you hear about the canoes? The men had to go after them this
morning. The tide came up so high last night and the girls had not
drawn them up high enough. Usually somebody goes down to see if
everything is all right, but of course on the night of an unusually
high tide it would be forgotten, by the ‘irony of fate’. Four canoes
were missing.”
“Did they find them?”
“Yes; some of the Boothbay folks got them and took them in there.”
“Look at our flotilla, Hilary. The English fleet isn’t in it with
us!”
“It is lovely, isn’t it? I just love these blue canoes. But ‘bucking
the tide’ is no joke. This is hard work. However, think of the howl
that would have gone up from one and all of us if we had had to give
up the trip!”
“Don’t you wish we had Campbell along?”
“I do indeed, and for no sentimental reason either, Miss Lilian.”
On they paddled. Soon the launches were far in advance. The distance
to the island seemed to increase. Eloise, Helen and Evelyn had
caught up with Hilary and Lilian and shouted across occasionally.
“Look at Jenkie with Mr. Clark. Isn’t she lucky? See the way he
paddles, and look at the way she just dips her oars. Listen, she’s
calling.”
“Come on, girls; this isn’t hard.”
“O, no, Jenkie, not with Mistah Clahk to do the wuhk!” replied
Evelyn.
For the first long pull it promised to be a hard one. But after the
launches had reached the island and delivered passengers and cargo,
the Truant returned to pick up girls that were too tired and tow
their canoes to port.
The picnic went on as picnics do, but not all picnickers breathe the
exhilarating air furnished by the Maine breezes. The girls were soon
quite rested, though arms and shoulders might ache a little. Bathing
suits and towels had been brought along for a good swim. The lunch
was pronounced wonderful and good appetites made quick work of
disposing of it. “Seconds” and “Thirds” were permitted for
sandwiches and fruit. Some of the girls had brought books or
magazines. Others had fancy work. Some looked for new birds or new
flowers to add to their number of points. As all the common flowers
had been brought in, each new flower counted a point. All the girls
had helped gather wood for the fire. Ah, how much better bacon
tastes cooked outdoors! Besides the fun, the consciousness of being
able to paddle one’s own canoe, both literally and figuratively, was
the chief result of this picnic, and every trip in this beautiful
country made the girls love it more.
The paddle home was almost as hard as that to the island, for a wind
came up, blew in their faces, and made the bay choppy. Tide again
was against them. In the waves made by the wind and those from
passing steamers all the skill of the paddlers was called into
requisition. But the presence of the launches gave confidence to any
of the girls who needed it, and the canoes rode the little
white-capped waves most prettily.
“Send for Edna, Cathalina, to rub my back,” exclaimed Hilary
stretched at length on her cot. “Bring on your Sloan’s liniment,
Absorbine Junior and St. Jacob’s oil! Look out, Betty!”—as Betty
plumped herself down by Hilary and began to rub a shoulder. “Deal
gently, Elizabeth; how are your own arms?”
“There were so many to paddle in the war canoe; we hardly got tired
a bit. But I’m just as hungry as if I hadn’t eaten three sandwiches
and other things in proportion at the island.”
“So’m I. Dot has a birthday tonight, so we’ll have ice cream and
cake. Maybe you will be asked to the birthday table, Hilary.”
“No, I don’t think so, too many little folks that Dot will want.”
“But she is so crazy about June.”
“True; but I’m not June. However, we’ll all have cake, even if it is
not birthday cake.”
“The supper bell; O, joyful sound! Are the rest of you lame old
ladies going to manage to get down to the dining-room on time?”
Hilary rose with exaggerated stiffness. “I’m going to apply for a
position as special guide to take venturesome tourists through the
St. Lawrence rapids in a canoe.”
The girls from Squirrels’ Inn were a little late in reaching the
dining-room, though others were still gathering and the bell for
order before grace had not yet rung. Dotty came dancing from the
birthday table to show them her birthday bouquet.
“Isn’t it lovely? The camp mother made it. See? Every little flower
is made of a dee-lish-shus piece of candy in the center, with all
colors of paper for petals, and this lacy white paper to hold it
all, twisted tinfoil and all! I wish I could have had you big girls
at my table too.”
“Thank you, Dotty,” said Hilary, “it is just as it should be.”
The birthday table was especially decorated, with fresh bouquets and
extra goodies which had been sent to Dorothy. Packages were piled at
Dorothy’s place; happy faces surrounded the table. But the supreme
moment was when the tables were cleared for the last course and Dot
went over to the kitchen for her birthday cake. The girls watched as
the candles were lit for her and the cake put into her hands. Slowly
and carefully she walked, watching lest her green candles blow out,
while the girls sang:
“Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday, dear Dorothy,
Happy birthday to you!”
“Dorothy rah! Dorothy rah! Rah-rah, Dorothy!”
“Did you notice her name on the frosting?—Dorothy, in cinnamon
drops.”
“Yes, Isabel, I certainly did,” said Virgie. “I never had a birthday
celebration in my life. I wish my birthday came in camp time.”
“When does it come?”
“September first! Not even in school time!”
“My, what a pity. You could almost have one.”
“I’ve half a mind to change it, put it in August some time. Why
not?” asked Virgie, laughing.
“There was a girl that did that once,” said Frances. “She went clear
through with it, then somebody told.”
“What did they do to her?”
“Nothing. They were too kind.”
“I suppose she wanted it so awfully. But mercy, I’m having too many
kinds of good times that I never dreamed of having a year ago not to
be able to stand not having a birthday cake.”
“We’ll just have a celebration at school for you. Our first feast
shall be in your honor.”
“I thank you!” and Virgie bowed formally. “Patty said that we have
four birthdays on the same day next week with four separate birthday
cakes. Maybe we’ll get a taste of one yet, Isabel.”