THE START
The visit of Blue Wolf marked the beginning of pleasantly exciting days
at the Heights. As a caller, he could hardly be classed a social
success. The very sight of the bevy of bright-faced girls with their
merry ways and eager questions filled him with intense embarrassment. No
one but himself was aware of this, however. Outwardly, he preserved a
wooden dignity that was admirable to behold. True to Miss Drexal’s
prediction, he soon shook the dust of the living room from his restless
feet, and strode majestically out of the Heights to be swallowed up in
the soft summer darkness.
He appeared again the next morning for breakfast. Afterward, he and Miss
Drexal entered into solemn conclave in the living room regarding the
details of the proposed trip. It was well toward noon when he took leave
of her, entrusted with the funds necessary to secure camping equipment,
and to hire horses and a vehicle sufficiently large to accommodate the
party on their journey from the town of Tower to the borders of
Vermilion Lake, where they were to make camp.
At luncheon that day little else was talked of save the coming excursion
into the wilderness. Even Blanche Shirly exerted herself to ask a
question or two regarding it.
“Do tell us all about Vermilion Lake, Miss Drexal,” begged Sarah. “I
never heard of such a lake until I came up here.”
“I’m afraid the noble study of geography has been wasted on Sarah,” put
in Frances slyly.
“Do _you_ know where it is?” challenged Sarah.
“Somewhere around here,” fenced Frances airily.
“That answer shows just how much you know about it, which isn’t any more
than I do,” retorted Sarah with a derisive chuckle.
Miss Drexal met this spirited exchange of comments with an indulgent
smile. “There is a great deal to be told of Vermilion Lake,” she began.
“It lies about a hundred miles north of Duluth in the very center of the
iron district. In fact, iron was first found in Minnesota in the town of
Tower, which is situated on the lake itself. That happened in 1880, and
Tower was nothing then but a straggling settlement. Long before that
time, it was a trading post of the famous Hudson Bay Company. The
Indians used to come there from the north by a series of small
waterways, in canoes, which were usually loaded with furs. From there
they would pack their loads on sleds drawn by dogs, and go south by the
Old Vermilion Trail to Fond du Lac, at the head of Lake Superior. At the
time when iron was discovered, the few inhabitants of Tower used to walk
to Duluth. It took them four days to make the trip, and they went by way
of what they called a ‘tote’ road, cut through the woods.”
“Glad I wasn’t living in Tower in those days,” put in the irrepressible
Frances. “It was a long way to Duluth, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” agreed Jane. “Don’t interrupt Miss Drexal,” she added
severely.
“After iron was found, mining was started at Tower and the village
grew,” resumed the registrar. “Later, mining operations were transferred
to Jasper Rock, about two miles from Tower. By the way, Jasper Peak is
the highest elevation in Minnesota. At that, it is nothing but a ragged,
round hill. With the taking away of the mining interest, Tower stood
still. It is only within the last few years that it has begun to prosper
again on account of the building of two very large saw mills on the
shores of Vermilion Lake. That is about all I can say of Tower.
“Vermilion Lake is much more interesting. It is only about thirty-five
miles long as the bird flies, but it has so many unexpected twists and
turns that it is said to have almost eight hundred miles of shore line.
Then, too, it is thickly dotted with islands. I have been told that
altogether there are three hundred and fifty-five of them. Some, of
course, are so small as to measure only a few square yards. Others
comprise several thousand acres of woodland. Along the shores, the woods
are not so thick, due to lumbering and also forest fires. Blue Wolf
tells me that the place he has selected for our camp is quite heavily
wooded, however. It is about ten miles from Tower and we shall go there
by wagon. He is going to arrange for us to have two canoes, too, so we
can paddle about among the nearby islands as much as we please.”
An ecstatic sigh swept the listeners at this last information.
“Won’t it be glorious?” breathed Ruth. “I do hope Blue Wolf will teach
us canoeing. I’ve always been crazy to learn it.”
“So have I,” declared Betty and Marian in concert.
“I can manage a canoe,” proudly asserted Jane. “It’s as easy as falling
off a log.”
“I think I could manage to upset one,” grinned Frances. “When we get to
Vermilion Lake, Plain Jane, you and I will go canoeing and see what
happens.”
“I wouldn’t risk my precious self in a canoe with you, Frances Bliss,
for anything in the world!” declined Jane loftily.
“_I_ wouldn’t set foot in a canoe.” It was Blanche who made this
emphatic assertion. “They are never safe. It takes only a touch to upset
one.”
“They’re safe enough if you don’t try to stand up in one, and know how
to step into it in the first place,” stoutly contested Jane.
“_You_ may think so, but _I_ don’t,” persisted Blanche tartly.
“I don’t _think_ so, I _know_ it.” Jane could never resist an
opportunity to oppose Blanche.
“I shall expect all of you to be very careful when on the water,”
cautioned Miss Drexal. “You must promise not to take the canoes out,
unless Blue Wolf is on hand to look after you. The passages between the
islands are very narrow and confusing. You are likely to get lost if you
try to go far alone. Now we had best decide about our luggage. We shall
wear our Camp Fire suits, and each carry a pack, containing only
strictly necessary articles. We will put all our extra clothing into a
large trunk of mine, and send it on to be put with our other equipment.
I would advise you to carry your sweaters along with your packs. We will
pack our ceremonial dresses in the trunk, in case we wish to hold a
Council Fire. We shall make our own bough-beds and cover them with
blankets.
“As this is Sunday, we will not do any packing. To-morrow morning we
will pack the trunk and also a box of cooking utensils. The blankets can
go in on top of them. I will ’phone to Lakeview for an expressman, and
have them shipped to Tower. Blue Wolf will be there when they arrive to
look after them, and see that they are put with the other equipment.
Everything will go ahead on a separate wagon to our camping site, and be
there before we arrive.
“My plan is to start at sunrise Wednesday morning and walk to Lakeview.
We will take our time, and eat an early luncheon on the way. From there
we can take the train to Duluth, spend the night there and go by railway
to Tower on Thursday morning. By that time, Blue Wolf will be ready for
us. We can lunch at a hotel and start by one o’clock for our camp,
reaching it before supper time.”
Miss Drexal’s outline of their journey met with noisy approval. Sunday
seemed a long day to the impatient girls. They were not sorry when nine
o’clock in the evening came round, and unanimously voted for an early
bed-time. Eager as they were to be off to pastures new, the next three
days were filled with a delightful stir of preparation that sent them
slipping by with incredible swiftness. Under Miss Drexal’s competent
direction, they made up the light packs each was to carry. Ruth, Marian
and Emmy proved themselves particularly adept at this. Jane, however,
packed and unpacked and repacked with much sputtering, while Sarah and
Frances looked on with derisive enjoyment.
Wednesday’s sun rose bright and hot on a sturdy little procession that
started jauntily down the road to Lakeview, waving frantic farewells to
Martha. She had stolidly refused to accompany them, declaring that
nothing could hire her to go tramping about through woods and swamps,
let alone sleeping on the damp ground. During their absence, she had
elected to visit a sister living in Lakeview, who was to come for her
with a horse and buggy at noon that day.
Yet, in that merry company, there was one face that did not reflect the
radiant happiness that shone from the eyes of her companions. Blanche
Shirly took the road to Lakeview, a most unsmiling hiker. Ever since
Ruth had so plainly outlined to her her position, she had been racking
her brain for some excuse to leave the Heights. After long and gloomy
consideration, she had been obliged to give up in despair. She was
fairly caught in a trap of her own making. Nor was she resourceful
enough to devise a way of release. Then, too, her conscience had begun
to trouble her a little. Something in Ruth’s ringing tones had lingered
in her ears, and given her a vague sense of her own failings, which was
entirely new to her and very disquieting. She had vowed to herself that
she would do nothing that might please Ruth, no matter what happened.
Ruth would have to learn that there was one person at least whom she
could not wind around her finger. Back of her resentment, however,
lurked a faint interest in the camping expedition which she could not
quite root out. Though she did not know it, she had a girl’s capacity
for enjoying the new and the unusual. After years of constant
artificiality, she was beginning to wonder dimly if, after all, these
girls, whom she scorned as babies, were not really getting more out of
life than she.