A DISCOURAGED TORCH BEARER
The first week at Wohelo Wigwam, as the girls had named their camp,
slipped by with incredible rapidity. Up with the dawn, they found the
long sunny days entirely too short for the countless pleasures to be
enjoyed in their woodland home. Vermilion Lake was a never-ending source
of joy to them. Every morning found them out in the canoes and paddling
up and down the portion of the lake nearest their camp. Under Blue
Wolf’s efficient instruction, they were becoming fairly skillful
canoeists.
With the second day in camp, Miss Drexal had wisely allotted to each
girl a certain amount of camp work to be performed. Six o’clock had been
the hour set for rising, and, promptly at six, the Guardian sounded the
reveille call on a bugle which she had brought along for that very
purpose. As she had been a bugler in one of the first Camp Fire groups
to spend a summer in the open, she was familiar with the various calls
used by the Army. Her flock hailed this bit of military procedure with
acclamation. According to Sarah, it was “positively thrilling” to hear
“Taps” fall sweetly on the summer air at ten o’clock each evening. She
agreed with Jane, however, that “reveille” was not half so inspiring.
Thus far, they had made only short jaunts through the adjoining woods,
content to keep fairly near to camp at first in order to explore their
immediate surroundings. On these occasions Wohelo Wigwam was left to
take care of itself. Owing to the fact that the canoes held comfortably
only three persons, the party took turns in making voyages to the
various nearby islands in the lake. With Blue Wolf as chief navigator,
from three to five girls usually accompanied him, leaving the rest in
camp. Ruth proving herself more adept at the paddle than her friends,
she was constantly in demand, although Marian was rapidly becoming a
close second.
True to his word, the Indian had ranged the woods for a suitable tree
from which to fashion a canoe. It had required considerable searching to
find one of sufficient size and straightness. His object was to secure,
if possible, a single strip of bark that would extend the entire length
of the canoe he purposed to make. The tree which he finally found was
admirably suited to his project. Whenever not required by Miss Drexal,
he was invariably to be seen squatted in front of his shack, his wiry
fingers engaged in skillfully stripping the bark from his prize. Eager
to do their part, Ruth and Frances also tried their hand at bark
stripping. Blue Wolf firmly declined, however, to allow them to
experiment on the tree he had chosen. Instead, he put them to work on a
smaller tree, bluntly informing them, “You try cut him little tree! You
spoil him, no matter. Heap more me get. Big tree you spoil, never I find
again ’nother mebbe.”
Determined to do credit to their teacher, the two girls devoted
themselves so industriously to their trial tree as to have the proud
pleasure of at least furnishing the extra strips of bark which had to be
added on each side to make the canoe sufficiently broad. Under his eagle
eye they also helped to sew the seams with balsam roots, and assisted in
daubing them with a black mixture of spruce gum and cedar ashes to
render them water tight.
Had the Indian devoted himself solely to the work of fashioning the
canoe, he could have finished it in five days. As it was, the end of
their second week in the woods was upon them before he pronounced it
ready for its first voyage. It was late on Friday afternoon, when a
jubilant group collected at the edge of the lake to watch its trial
trip. When the shapely canoe finally shot out on the placid water, under
the guide’s practical hands, he received the ovation of his life. After
thoroughly testing it, he brought it ashore and gravely invited Miss
Drexal to become his first passenger. When she returned, Ruth and
Frances were accorded the honor of the next trip and so on, until every
girl, even to Blanche, had tested its merits. Considering her recent
scathing denunciation of canoes in general, her companions were secretly
amused at her apparent willingness to trust herself in one of them.
Blanche had her own reasons, however, for her change of mind. She was
well aware that Blue Wolf took particular pains to keep out of her way.
If she addressed him, he answered briefly and with no show of interest.
With the others, he had grown quite friendly in his reserved, stately
fashion. The canoe having been the chief center of importance since he
had commenced its making, Blanche was not anxious to incur his fresh
disapproval by refusing to try it. She therefore told herself scornfully
she would at least show this “stupid Indian” that she was no coward.
Back of this was also a slowly growing desire to “be in things.” Far
removed from the artificial mode of living which she had ever held as
all-important, the magic spell of the great outdoors was beginning to
make itself felt.
She was no longer so entirely satisfied with herself as when she had
first come to the Heights. Her ignorance of wood lore placed her at a
decided disadvantage. Long accustomed to having her own way, it piqued
her not a little to be a mere follower rather than a leader. Dislike for
Ruth made her particularly envious of the former’s woodsman-like
qualities. Miss Drexal herself frequently consulted Ruth regarding their
various expeditions. This was as a thorn to Blanche’s flesh. It aroused
in her a desire to do something remarkable that would redound to her own
credit. To plod patiently along and win her honors for Wood Gatherer did
not appeal to her. That would merely please Ruth, whom she wished to
thwart whenever possible. She longed to do something especially clever
that would place her in the front rank of popularity at a single bound.
Though her motive was ignoble, it was at least ambitious. Under her
still languid pose, she began to keep an alert watch for the coveted
opportunity. Should a sudden emergency arise which called for quick
action or high courage, Blanche resolved that she would be first to
grasp it, if only to show her superiority over Ruth.
With the completion of the canoe, the campers immediately made plans to
explore in a body one of the larger islands of the lake, several miles
distant. Blue Wolf had spoken of it to Ruth, who, impressed by his terse
description of its beauty, had at once begged Miss Drexal that a
canoeing party be gotten up with it as an objective.
Half past seven o’clock, on a cloudless Saturday morning, saw the
dwellers of Wohelo Wig-wam setting jauntily off toward the lake, their
packs slung over their shoulders. They were in high spirits as they
tramped through the bit of woods to the lake shore, for the thought of
invading fresh territory had fired their enthusiasm. Miss Drexal had
demurred a little at leaving their camp with no one at home, but Blue
Wolf had phlegmatically assured her: “When come back, camp him here,
just same. No one see. No one steal. No one do nothing.”
In charge of the expedition, he was to pilot his crew to the island,
land and leave them there for the day, while he turned about and paddled
to Tower on his semi-weekly trip for supplies. In the late afternoon, a
little before sunset, he was to return for them and see them safely back
to camp. The problem of seating eleven persons in three canoes having
been thoroughly discussed on the previous evening, it had been decided
that for once a little crowding would be necessary. The canoe which the
Indian had made was large enough to hold four persons. Four squeezed
into one of the other two, and three in its mate, made a satisfactory
division.
“You had best place us as you think wise, Blue Wolf,” directed Miss
Drexal. “I would rather trust to your judgment. Girls, you must sit very
still. Crowded as we shall be, the least touch is likely to capsize the
canoes. Is the water very deep?” she asked, again addressing the Indian.
“Ugh! Heap deep, most way,” grunted the guide. His eyes roving
reflectively over the group on the shore, he pointed to Ruth. “You smart
girl. You paddle heap good. You take she an’ she an’ she.” He rapidly
designated Blanche, Frances and Jane. “I take she an’ she an’ she.” He
selected Emmy, Anne and Betty as his cargo. Marian was his choice of
commandant for the third canoe, which left Sarah and Miss Drexal to go
with her. He further selected Frances to help Ruth paddle, and accorded
Betty the proud honor of assisting himself. Miss Drexal was to be
Marian’s helper.
Reserving the launching of his own canoe until the last, he busied
himself with starting off first Marian’s and then Ruth’s. The first
principle of canoeing consists in knowing how to board one of the
too-easily swamped little boats. By light and careful stepping, the
girls managed to stow themselves into their limited quarters without
mishap. The last to shove off from shore, Blue Wolf sent his canoe ahead
of the others with a few practiced strokes of the paddle. Marian swung
in close behind him. Ruth brought up the rear, and the little procession
was soon well out of sight of the deserted camp and merrily following
their leader along the tortuous course which gives Vermilion Lake so
many miles of shore line.
So far as the old guide was concerned, he could not have selected a more
amiable trio of passengers. It was quite possible that he knew it. Urged
by Anne and Betty, it was not long before Emmy’s lovely voice was
sending its exquisite sweetness over the sunlit water.
“How beautiful Emmy’s singing sounds,” remarked Ruth, resting her paddle
for an instant to listen. Her glance falling on Blanche, who sat facing
her in the bottom of the canoe, she smiled brightly, hoping to dispel
the deep frown that had been in evidence on the other girl’s face since
they had started. Blanche merely stared at her. An involuntary word of
caution from Ruth as she had stepped into the canoe had added to her
resentment at being placed temporarily under Ruth’s charge. Refusing to
answer, she sulkily turned her head and began trailing one hand in the
water. Slight though the movement was it set the frail shell rocking a
trifle.
The smile faded from Ruth’s face as she resumed paddling. It was always
the same. No matter how pleasantly she tried to treat Blanche, she was
invariably rebuffed by cool or sullen glances. It was quite evident that
Blanche had not forgotten, nor would she ever forgive her.
“You’d better not do that, Blanche.” Jane’s crisp tones broke up Ruth’s
gloomy reverie.
“Do what?” Blanche made no effort to desist from her perilous pastime.
Instead she leaned toward the hand she was trailing with an angry little
jerk.
“Look out! You’ll have us all overboard!” Frances expostulated, raising
her paddle, in quick alarm. Seated in the end of the canoe that faced
Ruth, she cast the latter an appealing glance.
Ruth caught her breath sharply, then reluctantly added her plea of, “I’m
afraid it isn’t quite safe, Blanche. You see—”
“I see that you girls are simply trying to be horrid to me!” interrupted
Blanche furiously. Bringing up her hand from the lake with wrathful
force, she overbalanced herself and swung heavily to the opposite side.
Ruth’s sharp call, “Lean the other way!” alone saved them from disaster.
With a sudden lurch, the canoe righted itself.
“I told you so,” snapped Jane, thoroughly incensed. “Only for Ruth we’d
have gone straight into the lake. For goodness sake, sit still, Blanche,
the rest of the way. I’m not anxious for a ducking even if you are.”
“Don’t think for a minute you can order _me_ about, Jane Pellew!”
stormed Blanche. “I won’t stay here and be treated like a child. Put me
ashore,” she haughtily commanded Ruth. “I’ll find my way back to camp.”
“I can’t do that,” refused Ruth quietly. “Miss Drexal wouldn’t allow it.
Don’t be cross, Blanche,” she made impetuous appeal. “We mustn’t quarrel
this beautiful morning. As long as we weren’t upset—”
“I _said_ ‘put me ashore,’” reiterated Blanche icily. “Are you going to
do it?”
“No.” Ruth measured her angry vis-a-vis with a cool, level glance, then
sent the canoe forward with a will. Their near-accident had left them
some distance behind the others. Though she had kept her temper, Ruth’s
paddle dipped and rose with an almost fierce energy. Never, since
Blanche had joined them, had Ruth felt such exasperation against the
ill-natured guest. She was quite ready to wash her hands of the whole
reform movement.
Naturally, the disagreement put a damper on the quartette, as is always
the case when one of a number is bent on being unamiable. Following
Ruth’s “No!” Blanche had relapsed into formidable silence. Jane and
Frances still continued to chatter to each other and to Ruth, yet all
three were nettled over the fact that discord had arisen at the very
outset of their voyage.
The sun was high in the heavens when the flotilla made harbor on a
heavily-wooded shore of the island of their choice. Dark masses of
tamarack, pine and spruce trees rose, grim and majestic, almost to the
lake’s edge. This time they had truly reached the forest primeval. A
hush pervaded the island, that suddenly stilled the voices of the
landing party.
“It’s like an enchanted forest, isn’t it?” murmured Anne as, helped
ashore by the Indian, she breathed deeply of the spicy air.
“We’ll have to blaze our own trails, I guess,” declared Betty, peering
speculatively toward the unbroken ranks of forest kings, reigning long
undisturbed in their towering might.
“We won’t dare go very far inland without Blue Wolf,” demurred Emmy.
“We’d be likely to get lost. It’s too bad he can’t stay here to-day,
instead of having to leave us to the mercy of the wilds.”
“Here’s our chance to be good woodsmen,” laughed Anne. “This time we’ve
a real forest to practice in.”
“All safe ashore!” broke in Ruth’s cheery tones. Disdaining the Indian’s
hand, she had made a nimble spring to terra-firma, calling out just as
the guide landed Frances, the last to leave her canoe.
“It’s a wonder we are,” muttered Jane, who stood at her elbow.
“Don’t say anything about what happened to us,” warned Ruth in an
undertone.
“I won’t go back in the same canoe with her,” protested Jane in low,
vehement tones. “She spoiled our whole trip. We all made a big mistake
in not saying ‘No’ when she first wanted to come to our reunion.”
For once Ruth was tempted to concur with Jane. She was beginning to
believe that their kindly effort toward Blanche had been ill-advised.
They had not succeeded in helping her, and there seemed small prospect
that they ever would. The light that she had hoped to pass on undimmed
to Blanche seemed in a fair way to flicker out.