THE CANOE PAGEANT
Lilian was trying on Eloise’s bathing suit of red and black, and
wrapping the cloak of the same colors about her, she folded her arms
and repeated, “Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest!”
“Yo! ho! ho! and a bottle of rum! Wait till I get on my fierce beard
and mustache and you’ll see what a pirate can look like!”
“What do you think of this?” asked Hilary, as she tried on a fiery
looking turban made of silk middy ties. “And look at the flag Patty
has made for us. Isn’t that a scary skull and cross-bones?”
“Yes indeed! Patty’s a peach,—O, ‘fifteen men on a dead man’s chest.
Yo, ho, ho!—and a bottle of rum!’”
“Aren’t you a case, Lilian North!” exclaimed Cathalina, who was
resting from her recent labors on the canoe, and lay on her cot
watching the girls.
“O, Captain Kidd, we’re glad, we’re glad you aren’t here now!”
hummed Lilian.
“Are you going to sing that?” asked Cathalina.
“O, no; if I have time I’ll make up something like, ‘I’m Captain
Kidd, the pirate bold, who sails the Kennebec,—’”
“My right arm helps ’em walk the plank,” added Hilary.
“And little do I reck!” finished Cathalina.
“Hurrah!” cried Lilian. “Poetry made while you wait by Squirrels’
Inn and company. Give me another verse and I’ll take my guitar,
neatly concealed by evergreen, and make up a tune on two or three
notes as we go.”
“A verse is a line, Lilian.”
“Very well, a stanza, then. O bold and true, my pirate crew,—”
“And if they’re not, what then?” asked Frances.
“Thanks, Frances, that will make the next line. Ah, Davy Jones will
get their bones,—mm.”
“Goodbye, ye merry men! Tra-la, another poem for our collection of
masterpieces! Say it all, Hilary,” continued Cathalina.
Hilary, “struck an attitude” and with some prompting, repeated their
latest effort:
“I’m Captain Kidd, the pirate bold,
Who sails the Kennebec;
My right arm helps ’em walk the plank
And little do I reck!
O, bold and true my pirate crew,
And if they’re not, what then?
’Tis Davy Jones will get their bones!
Goodbye, my merry men!”
Most of the day had been spent by the campers upon the canoes, and
in some cases upon their own costumes, when these were necessary to
carry out the idea. It had been planned to use that witching time
when the sky was still beautiful from the sunset and yet the blue
mist of evening with moon and stars was just appearing in the east.
It did not seem best to plan for lighting up the canoes. While there
was plenty of water, it is true, to put out any blaze that might
occur, the canoes might not be in the most favorable position for an
upset. The most beautiful light was offered by Nature herself.
The girls had worked hard. Not a canoe but was prettily dressed. As
each one was brought from its hidden retreat to be launched,
exclamations were heard on all sides. Admiration and surprise were
mingled. It was a matter of honor not to intrude upon the secrecy of
those engaged upon the work, but in some way the news about a few
had leaked out. However, only the sight of the canoes themselves
could give the full effect. The athletic director and the other
councillors knew the plans for the girls and arranged the order of
launching. With the heavier canoes, some of which had a light
framework wired and resting on top of the canoes, the girls had to
have some help. All those who were not needed to paddle or pose
stood upon the shore and dock as audience and judges.
In the graceful fleet which passed the “reviewing stand” there was
the canoe decked in ferns and evergreen, with a few paper birds
wired to poise in flight above; one in yellow and white, with yellow
roses and butterflies; another trimmed in white cotton, so put on as
to imitate snow and ice, a diamond dust covering all, two
long-bearded, white-garbed paddlers guiding the canoe, and a big
white polar bear, sitting in the center and carrying a banner marked
“The Northland.” The war canoe was given to some of the Juniors, who
wanted to represent the Old Woman who lived in a Shoe, and had to
have several children to overflow the big shoe of wired paper. One
of the councillors in white cap and kerchief took the part of the
Old Woman, and the children in quaint costumes, with ruffles of
crepe paper, roused much enthusiasm among the spectators.
This canoe won the prize for being the prettiest, and some of the
judges wanted to award it the prize for the most clever idea. But
that finally went to the three girls of Squirrels’ Inn, whose canoe
was decked to represent a pirate ship. A furled sail was put up in
the bow, to which the pirate flag was attached. Frances as Captain
Kidd, with Lilian and Hilary in costume, repeated in hoarse voices,
as they passed the judges, the couplet which Lilian had been
chanting, with “Yo, ho, ho!—and a bottle of rum!” Then all in deep
voices sang the new Captain Kidd stanzas to the tune of _Yankee
Doodle_, rendered slowly, while Lilian twanged an accompaniment on
the guitar. Burnt cork mustaches of fierce upward curve, made all
this more impressive.
As the light grew more dim, the girls in the canoe marked the
Northland, turned on several flashlights, which lit up effectively
the diamond dust, and those in the pirate ship turned on several
large ones, which they had covered with their red paper. A few other
lights flashed out in different canoes as they all circled prettily
in the water and came into port once more.
“There, that’s over,” said Hilary, as with the pirate flag over one
shoulder and Lilian’s guitar over the other, she entered the
klondike. “Patty will certainly have to get up our entertainment for
stunt night. We have only about a week to get ready now, and with
the Wiscasset hike, the canoe trip to Brunswick, and the White
Mountain trip, I can’t see where we get up anything, do you
Frances?”
“No, I don’t. However, not all the girls will go on the White
Mountain trip, you know. Perhaps we can have some little easy part
to do that we can get quickly, or if we can think it up before we
go, we can have it in mind, you know.”
“There come Patty and the girls now; let’s ask them.”
“O, Miss Patty, how about our having stunt night next week?”
“I have been thinking about that, girls. Who has an idea?”
Nobody seemed to have one.
“They have had everything there is to have, I’m afraid,” said
Lilian.
“Well, let me relieve your minds, then,” said Patricia. “I had an
idea several days ago and have been trying to get it a little more
clearly outlined.” At this point Cathalina gave a meaning nod to
Lilian which Patty caught. “Yes, you think ‘the poor English
teacher,’ don’t you?”
“It reminded me of outlines,” Cathalina acknowledged.
“We must have a meeting tomorrow and I will tell you just what I
think we can do.”
At the morrow’s meeting the girls enthusiastically approved Miss
West’s idea, applauded the productions already in hand and thanked
her warmly for taking the responsibility. It was, to be sure, hers
as councillor to see that the girls had some sort of entertainment
ready for their turn at stunt night, but these girls, as good
campers, were always willing to do their share and had no desire to
take advantage of their young councillor. Some of the parts were
given out and the girls began to learn them. They considered it pure
fun, for there was required no serious preparation.
The canoe trip to Brunswick was next on the list of trips. The
canoes, stripped of their decorations, bore the jolly campers away,
around Marshmallow Point into Merrymeeting Bay, to the left, past
Brick Island of Captain Kidd fame, and on up the Androscoggin river,
the war canoe in the lead. So many wanted to go that each of the
smaller canoes bore three. Some of the little girls who could not
paddle were among those who sat more or less comfortably on life
preservers in the middle. Or it would be one of the older girls who
took the middle position, to change places with some tired paddler
in bow or stern as need might be. The girls were reminded of the
rules that no one was to change places in midstream. They must
paddle to shore and make the adjustment. Lunch was distributed among
the canoes, for the launches could not go up the shallow
Androscoggin.
Hilary and Lilian took June with them. Frances, Betty and Cathalina
were together. Neither Betty nor Cathalina had as much endurance as
Frances, but they thought that by changing occasionally, all would
be able to make the eight or ten-mile paddle with ease. Eloise,
Helen and Isabel were together and rather evenly matched in paddling
ability, as were Marion, Jean and Nora. Patty, with another
councillor, carried some of the heavier packages or cans of lunch in
their canoe.
“Hard luck, Miss West,” called Isabel; “what you have in the middle
of your canoe can’t change places and help you paddle.”
“Some of it will help me paddle coming back,” answered Patty,
pointing to the milk can and package of sandwiches. “And Mr. Clark
has gone on ahead to see about getting corn for us to roast.”
“O, joy!” exclaimed Isabel, “corn and bacon! I saw them putting in
the bacon.”
“Do we wait till we get to Brunswick before we have lunch?” asked
Eloise. “Patty spoke as if we would.”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Isabel. “We build a fire somewhere
along the river, I think.”
“I don’t see the war canoe. I wonder which side of this big island
we take.”
“I believe the one to the left is the way,” and Isabel pointed out a
few imaginary indications that the war canoe had taken that course.
But it turned out that while their canoe had no trouble in getting
through, this channel would have been too shallow for the war canoe.
It had gone to the right. There were many sand bars in the river,
but the paddling was easy. There was no wind and the water was calm,
like a mirror reflecting the rocks and dark green trees of the
shore, while the dark blue canoes came stealing up on the grassy
surface to add to the beauty of the scene. Not even the most
practical girl, her mind chiefly upon getting to the destination,
eating lunch and getting points for paddling, could fail to be
impressed by it.
“Shall we go to see Bowdoin College?” inquired Helen.
“In this rig?”
“Excuse the question, Eloise; I forgot our picnic garb. I remember
the girls said that they usually go by trolley from Bath.”
It must be admitted that a substantial lunch adds much to the joy of
such picnics. This one was especially good. The corn was boiled in a
big kettle, which was borrowed or hired for the occasion. Such
perfect and tender ears they were. Boiling was substituted for
roasting and saved much time, a second lot of ears going in the pot
as soon as the first came out. Potato salad and pickles, all the
sandwiches one could eat, cake, ripe pears and all the milk one
could drink,—what more could they ask? Yet still came marshmallows,
passed around to be toasted over the embers.
“We’ll start home early, girls,” announced the young director of
athletics. “Then we can take our time, change often if we get tired,
and everything will be in our favor, no wind, and tide and current
in the right direction. I believe we could almost float home!”
It was not quite like floating, however, and the girls earned their
points for paddling. But without trouble they all reached camp in
good season, and in good humor to think that they had carried
through a twenty-mile paddle.
“How much do you think I paddled, Frances?” asked Cathalina, as they
put away their paddles.
“O, you must have paddled half the way, in resting either Betty or
me.”
“Scarcely that, I’m afraid. You paddled too long several times and
wouldn’t let me take it, you know. You were afraid I’d get too
tired.”
“Not at all. Wanted the points.”
“Never mind, I know you. You would take stern most of the way, too.”
“I wish you were coming to Greycliff next year, Frances,” said
Betty. “How you would fit in with our crowd. You would love Polly
and Juliet, and how proud we’d be of you!”
“That is awfully dear of you, Betty. For ‘half a cent’ I’d come. But
I don’t think I can.”
“Think about it, anyhow,” Betty insisted.