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THE WOODCRAFT GIRLS AT CAMP
by
LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY
[Illustration: WATCHING THE SWALLOW'S FLIGHT.
_The Woodcraft Girls at Camp_. _Frontispiece_.]
THE WOODCRAFT GIRLS AT CAMP
by
LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY
Author of
The Woodcraft Girls in the City,
Little Woodcrafter's Book,
The Polly Brewster Books, etc.
Illustrated
[Illustration]
New York
Grosset & Dunlap
Publishers
Copyright, 1916,
By George H. Doran Company
Printed in the United States of America
Sincere gratitude is tendered Mrs. Frederick Hoisington
(Atma), of Woodcraft Indians, for valuable suggestions
and her friendly assistance in
making this story one of true
Woodcraft life of the
beginner.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
One The Chosen Land 13
Two Choosing a Camp Site 37
Three Discovery of the "Thinkerator" 59
Four Tribulations of the Campers 80
Five Some Amazing Things in Nature 100
Six The Mutiny of Nita 120
Seven Winners in Home-Cook and Mokodasso-Winini Degrees 137
Eight What Happened During a Thunder Storm 155
Nine Wickee and Cheokee Join the Camp 181
Ten The Letter that Saved Nita 207
Eleven Star Gazing from Pine Nob 236
Twelve Nita's Escapade and Reformation 255
Thirteen A Birthday Party in Camp 273
Fourteen Rainy Days and Woodcraft Lore 290
Fifteen The Thunder Bird Speaks 313
Sixteen The Council Fire Burns out the Dross 330
THE WOODCRAFT GIRLS AT CAMP
CHAPTER ONE
THE CHOSEN LAND
"Ooo-ooh! Oo-ooh! Nita!" called Suzanne Baker, as she skipped across
the small square of green grass that individualised the brownstone
house where Anita Brampton lived.
No answer came, so Zan--as she was always called for short--impatiently
repeated the call, adding after a moment's pause, "Where are you--come
on out!"
Still no reply, but the pretty face of Mrs. Brampton appeared at the
glass door inside the vestibule. She smiled as she recognised the
caller and nodded for her to come in.
Zan ran up the steps and said, "How'd do, Mrs. Brampton--where's Nita?"
"Looking for you, most likely," laughed the lady of the house. Then, as
her smile changed to a petulant look with the changing of her thought,
she added, "Dear me! Nita is a sore trial. Did you ever know her to
accomplish anything without confusion to others?"
Zan knew from experience that that aggrieved tone meant a long harangue
on Nita's shortcomings, so she hurriedly changed the subject.
"Well, as long as Nita isn't here I guess I'll run along to Miss
Miller's. They'll all be there waiting, I s'pose."
"All right, dearie; I have a little bridge party in the library, or I
would give more time to you," replied Mrs. Brampton, daintily patting
down a few stray wisps of blonde hair that fluttered in the breeze from
the open door.
"Oh, I'm in a great hurry, anyway," returned Zan, starting out of the
doorway.
At that moment, a maid summoned Mrs. Brampton to the telephone saying
that her daughter wished to speak with her.
"Wait a moment, Zan--Nita's on the 'phone and you can speak to her
after I see what she wants," said Mrs. Brampton, turning back.
Zan followed to the small nook where the telephone was kept and stood
waiting. Laughter and the sound of coins drew her attention to the
bridge players in the large library.
Mrs. Brampton finished speaking with her daughter, saying, "Zan is
here--wait a second and I'll put her on the wire."
Turning to hand Zan the receiver, she whispered, "When you are through
here run to the dining-room and have a glass of wine and cake--it is
all ready for my friends."
"Oh, no, thank you, Mrs. Brampton! You know Daddy doesn't approve of
us having wine. We always drink water at home," replied Zan, flushing
uncomfortably.
"Dear me, I forgot! The doctor is _such_ a radical on these little
things!" laughed the lady merrily, patting the girl consolingly on the
shoulder with much-beringed hands.
She hastened back to her guests while Zan called, "Hello, Nita! Where
are you, anyway?"
"Ha, ha ha! We're all at Miss Miller's? Why don't you hurry over, too,"
came a musical voice over the wire.
"Just because you didn't do as I said! I told you distinctly to wait
for me at the school-gates. You knew I'd be a few minutes late on
account of seeing my Latin teacher after school. I asked Bob if he had
seen you--he was waiting for some boys in front of the gate--but he
said you had hurried away with the girls. So I stopped in here thinking
you may have gone home."
There was a moment's silence, then a petulant voice, so like Mrs.
Brampton's that Zan smiled, said, "Dear me! I'm sure it isn't my fault
if you didn't meet us! Why all of the girls should bother to hang
around waiting for you, is more than I can tell!"
"Well, seeing that the whole plan is mine, and not one of you girls
would have been in on it if I hadn't asked you, it seems mighty
ungrateful to act so, that's all I have to say!" and Zan jabbed up the
receiver on its hook.
She threw a glance of disapproval at the card players who were
quarrelling over the stakes, and hurried out, leaving the maid to close
the doors.
A few moments later she was on a cross-town car. Thinking of the house
she had just left, with its mistress dressed in silks and sparkling
with jewels, she murmured to herself, "Huh! I'd a heap rather have our
comfy home with all the boys' marks and scratches on the mission wood
than all of the gorgeous damask and gilt of Nita's home! We enjoy our
life at home, but gracious! at Nita's it's always, 'Don't touch that,
dearie!' or 'Be careful, that vase cost a fortune;' a girl can't even
skip over the floor without having Mrs. Brampton cry, 'Oh, mercy! That
velour carpet will all be worn out!'"
The conductor, in passing down the aisle heard the girl mutter and
stopped to ask her if she spoke to him.
Zan laughed amiably as she looked up at him and said, "No, I was just
thinking out loud!"
The man smiled too, and returned to his post while Zan looked out of
the window to see what street they were near. Finding that the next
corner was the one she wished to reach, she signalled to stop the car.
As she stood on the platform waiting for the car to come to a stop, the
kind old conductor said, "Not many young folks think at all, but it is
best to do your thinking quiet-like so others don't get a chance to
hear your plans. S'pose every inventor did his thinking aloud, what
chance would he have to get his patent?"
Zan nodded thoughtfully and thanked the wise old man for the advice. He
assisted her to jump down and smiled as he watched her hurry down the
side street.
As she went, Zan thought, "That man is a philosopher! I must be careful
and not think out loud after this. Thinking is good practice but I
guess it all depends on what kind of thinking you do--good--bad--or
indifferent!"
With this sage conclusion Zan reached Miss Miller's home. She asked the
elevator boy to take her up to Apartment 9, and, as soon as the floor
was reached, she bounded out and rang the bell at the side of the door.
Of the five girls about to meet for the forming of a Clan of Woodcraft
Indians, no two were alike in character or physique. Zan was of the
tom-boy type, fond of athletics and all out-door sport with her two
brothers, who were near her own age. Her hands and feet, although being
well-shaped, were large and tanned. The finely poised head was crowned
with a mass of bronze-red hair that had no hint of wave in its long
strands. Energy, endurance, and impatience were expressed in her every
movement and expression while sympathy, generosity, and frankness were
the attributes that go hand in hand with such a temperament as Zan's.
Her parents were most sensible and clothed the girl in comfortable,
well-made things of first-class material, but ignored ridiculous styles
or customs which might distract an expanding thought from practical
affairs and limit it to fashion and self-contemplation. Of course, Zan
had never worn stays, tight shoes, or cramping gloves, and was given
wholesome food with no indulgence in the kind that impedes digestion
or causes fermentation to blood and brain. As a result, the girl
possessed a normal, perfectly healthy body, clear eyes, wonderful skin,
and looked like fourteen years of age instead of twelve, the last
birthday having been celebrated a few weeks previously to the opening
of this story. In school, she was in the class of girls where each one
registered thirteen and a half to fourteen years of age. And she was
generally at the head of her class, at that.
Anita Brampton was the most decided contrast to Zan of all the
school-mates. She was just past fourteen but so under-sized and slender
that she looked like twelve, albeit, she was most sophisticated in
life, and made the most of her dainty prettiness. Her great eyes
of blue, so like a wax-doll's, were used to their best advantage,
while her graceful little body generally posed effectively. Her pale
yellow hair was artificially curled about a pink and white face, not
altogether free from some of her mother's powder and rouge. Her hands
and feet were too small and the rose-bud mouth too petulant for beauty.
But Nita had absolute faith in her perfection. She was most indolent
and over-fond of sweets and dancing; in fact, the latter art was
indulged to such an extent that it became a crime. She attended every
party she could secure an invitation to and, being a graceful dancer
always dressed in the latest mode, she never lacked partners. These
youths, several years her senior, vied with each other for her daring
words and suggestive glances, yet not one of them would care to have
her for an intimate friend of his sister's. As a result of wasting the
night hours, Nita was delicate, nervous and prematurely blasé, when she
should have been most vital and abounding with fine health.
Elena Marsh was a pretty girl with a yearning for the artistic. She was
clever with brush and pen and promised to accomplish something worth
while if a well-meaning but over-severe mother could be made to see the
blight she forced on the girl's ambitions. To Mrs. Marsh, success was
found through tiresome ways of practice for hours, when fingers grew to
cramped to firmly grasp a pencil. She never realised that inspiration
often came from absolute change of occupation. Then too, she was so
fearful of fresh air, or athletics, that she actually kept Elena cooped
up like a hot-house flower.
Jane Hubert was a dark-complexioned type, impulsive, opinionated,
intelligent. Jane and her twin-brother Jack were indulged by wealthy
parents who threatened to spoil their promising future unless some
kind interference occurred. The Huberts had an Adirondack camp where
the twins had found great sport in out-door life, and thus Jane had
acquired an intense love of taking pictures. She had a splendid camera
and was quite expert in developing and printing pictures.
Hilda Alvord was a generous, good-natured girl with no claim to beauty
or wealth, but her perfect health and optimism gave her a pleasing
expression which attracted friends much quicker than Nita's petulant
beauty. Hilda's father had passed away when Brother was but a few
weeks old. Mrs. Alvord was left with the two children but no means
with which to provide for them. It was necessary that something be
done immediately, so Dr. Baker, the family physician, advised her to
take charge of a case of his where patience and motherly care were
more important than trained nursing. Mrs. Alvord acquitted herself
so well that she found all the nursing she could accept thereafter.
This left the care of the baby to Hilda, as well as most of the light
house-keeping. The stress of circumstances never worried Hilda however,
and she was a great favourite with the school-girls and teachers.
She was an ardent worshipper of Nature and anything in plant-life or
flowers secured her entire attention. The windows of the modest rooms
where the Alvords lived, were always a tangle of riotous bloom and
vines.
As Zan rang the bell of Miss Miller's apartment, a bevy of laughing
girls ran to open the door. Miss Miller stood in the doorway of the
living-room smiling as they all escorted Zan to greet their hostess.
"Thank goodness, you're here at last! We're all crazy to get down to
brass tacks!" cried Hilda, the apostle of slang.
"'Tisn't my fault if I'm late--ask Nita what kind of date she made then
went ahead and broke it!" pouted Zan angrily.
"Well, you're here, so let the mistake pass," said Hilda.
Miss Miller had seated herself at the desk while the girls selected
comfortable seats and waited for her to begin.
"Zan, we were wondering whether the Adirondack plan is the best for
all concerned. Just before you arrived, Nita was saying that she
wouldn't go to any poky camp near home. She has set her heart on the
Adirondacks, it seems."
Zan turned in amazement toward Nita. "Why, you told me that you'd be
glad to go anywhere as long as you could get away from your mother's
nagging!"
The girls laughed, and Miss Miller had to bite her lip to keep from
smiling at Zan's frank manner of telling the truth.
"Oh, that was before Jane's brother told me about the Adirondacks. They
had a camp there last summer, you know, and he says that it's loads of
fun 'cause so many people camp about the same water, or lake, and every
evening they have dancing, or parties, or moon-light outings," replied
Nita, undisturbed by Zan's bluntness.
"That's what _he_ said, just because he thought we were going back
there this summer and it would be fun for him to have you there to
go around with. But father changed his mind this week, and has leased
a cottage at the sea-shore instead. Jack wouldn't be so eloquent over
the mountains if you should ask him now!" said Jane, who disapproved of
Nita's winning ways with her twin.
Nita said nothing, but thought over the unexpected news.
"Well, any one else got a kick coming?" asked Zan, impatiently.
The girls giggled for they well knew that at school Miss Miller would
have reprimanded such slang.
No further remarks were heard in complaint, so Miss Miller asked Zan if
she had any news to place before them; if not they would discuss the
advantage of camping in mountains or country near by.
"Yes, I have!" retorted Zan, emphatically. "I asked the crowd to meet
here so's I could tell you all what Daddy offered us this noon. He says
we can have Wickeecheokee Farm for our very own all summer if we want
it!"
Zan sprung her news with an air of having delivered an all-inclusive
reason for accepting the farm offer at once. The faces about her proved
that the news did not create the joy she looked for.
"Say, what's the matter with that! Isn't it great?" cried she,
impatiently.
"Who wants to camp on a farm?" said Nita, derisively.
"You were crazy to go there last summer--since when have you changed
your mind?" asked Zan, frowning.
"A camp's not a camp unless it is the wilderness, and you certainly
can't claim _that_ for your old farm," pouted Nita.
"My dears, I wish to say a word about the offer," interceded Miss
Miller. "I think the doctor's offer at this opportune time is splendid!
Hilda was saying just before you came in, Zan, that she didn't see
where she could earn enough money to pay her fare to the Adirondacks
and back this summer. And Mrs. Marsh won't consent to Elena's going
so far away. She's worried for fear Elena will become ill and need
her. Then, too, girls, I would rather not spend so much of my salary
on car-fare this season, as I have had extra expenses to carry for my
mother's illness this spring."
"Have you thought of anything else, Miss Miller?" asked Jane, who
seemed to be as pleased with Zan's idea as any other.
"Not yet, for Zan told me this noon before school that she had a place
just made to order for us. Woods, water, gardens and all that heart
could desire! I suspected the location of this Eden so did not try to
find anything else until after this meeting."
"If Elena's mother doesn't want her to go too far off, the farm will be
just the place for her," said Zan.
"But, Zan, I don't want mother popping in on us all summer just as we
get interested in swimming or climbing. She'd make me come out of the
water and roll myself in hot blankets to keep off a chill!" complained
Elena, dolorously.
The girls laughed sympathetically, for they all knew of Mrs. Marsh's
fears and foibles.
"No danger of your mother dropping in that way," giggled Zan. "Our farm
is a hundred and fifty miles from here, on a branch of an old-time
railroad. When you reach the last station you still have to ride ten
miles in a springless wagon over rough roads. Ha, ha! I see any of your
mothers anxious to visit you after that!"
"_I'd_ be glad to go there, for you know the saying, 'beggars can't be
choosers,'" said Hilda.
"I'll go anywhere the rest of you go," added Jane.
"Then, taking Zan's word for our seclusion, I'll agree too," said
Elena, eagerly.
"And I have already agreed with pleasure," came from Miss Miller.
"It goes without saying, that _I_ am all for the farm," said Zan,
looking at Nita for her answer.
"I don't suppose I have any choice in the matter! As long as all of you
have voted against me, I shall have to accept your verdict," whined
Nita.
"You don't have to do anything of the sort! You can join a crowd
of girls who all want to do just what you do--fool away the whole
summer on dancing or flirting. _We're_ not going in for that kind of
a riot, and you can just make up your mind to having a good old rest
and all-round country life, if you chum with us!" came from Zan, in
emphatic tones.
"I don't know why you always pick on me, Zan! I declare, any one would
think you had a special grudge against me," cried Nita, plaintively.
"Pooh! Nita, you know just as well as I do that I have to talk to you
straight out from the shoulder to put any sort of go into you! Dad says
he thinks you'd fade away entirely if it wasn't for my pep!" retorted
Zan, then turning to Miss Miller with an air that closed the foregoing
incident:
"Have you any papers or books here about the Woodcrafters?"
"Yes, Zan, I'll run and get them. Meantime, suppose you girls indite a
letter to the doctor and thank him for the generous offer of the farm,"
said Miss Miller, glad of an excuse to get out of the room while the
letter was under discussion.
"Then you are all set on that farm?" queried Nita.
"Why, sure! Did you dream anything else?" asked Hilda.
"I'll have to give in too, I s'pose!" sighed Nita.
Zan sent her a glance that was wasted, so she shrugged her shoulders as
she took up a sheet of paper and a pen.
The letter of thanks was carefully written and given to Zan to deliver
to her father that night. This matter disposed of, Miss Miller spread
out the papers she had brought from her room.
"Girls, to tell the truth, I am greatly relieved to know we will start
our experiment where we can secure 'ready aid' if necessary. I almost
regretted my offer to take you to camp this summer when I had time to
think of all it entailed. But the farm will be just the place for us to
get acquainted with each other's home-characteristics and, at the same
time, permit us to provide a balance in our treasury for a mountain
camp next summer. By that time we ought to have a Tribe of twenty or
more members, I should think," said Miss Miller, with a sigh.
The teacher was a wise trainer of girls and realised that a word
pro or con would settle the question for all season regarding any
dissatisfaction in selecting the camping ground. If the girls thought
they would have to choose between giving up the delightful camp-plan
or accept the farm, naturally they would take the farm. Then, too,
she knew that abstract ideas would not have the same impression as
actual facts, so she took a package of kodak pictures taken at the
farm, and passed them to the girls. Exclamations of delight, surprise,
and anticipation were the result. Even Nita felt a semblance to mild
enthusiasm as she looked at the beautiful scenes of woods, rocks,
water-falls and streams.
"Now, suppose we make notes of what will be needed for the summer in
camp," suggested Miss Miller, after a short time. "I am going to take
my butterfly-net and outfit so that you girls can make similar ones and
collect some of the beautiful creatures. Then, too, I have ordered a
bead-loom for a model, and as soon as we have each made a loom, we will
begin weaving head-bands and the trimmings for our robes. But these
are items to be classed later; we must start on necessities first, and
art second, I suppose."
"My goodness! That reminds me, Miss Miller! I almost forgot the most
important point in Dad's offer! He says we can use anything in the
house that we want, besides the vegetables and fruit of the gardens.
The boys had some tents last summer when they took a trip with Dad up
the Delaware River. Two are in good order and Bob says the three cots
are O. K. as long as we are not too particular about mattresses. Muzzer
told me we could have any dishes or kitchen utensils we might need, as
well as the pickles and preserves from the cellar."
"Why, Zan! Why didn't you tell this before! I bet you wouldn't have
heard one dissenting word, with jam and jelly offered us," cried Hilda,
smacking her lips.
"Not only that, but just think of the expense we can save! Why, I think
it is just splendid!" added Miss Miller.
The others were delighted to a degree that gave Zan much pleasure, for
she loved to have her parents' generosity appreciated.
"After all that, maybe our letter to the doctor is tame?" ventured
Hilda.
"Oh, no! It's all right--I'll explain to them at home," replied Zan,
eager to continue the camp plans.
Miss Miller returned to the papers and Manual of Woodcraft Indians. She
read aloud the various items mentioned for the guidance of beginners,
and the girls made notes of things as the ideas appealed to them. The
teacher looked over the memos and read aloud:
"Extra tents--cots--material for costumes--shoes for hiking--one-piece
suit for swimming--blankets--duffle-bags--toilet articles," and the
numerous personal things girls would want during the summer.
"We can wear our gym suits at camp until we have made regular Woodcraft
robes," suggested Miss Miller.
"Yes, and we'll have a good opportunity to wear our last year's
sneakers and hiking shoes," added Jane.
"Oh! We'll save the sneakers for the tennis court!" exclaimed Zan,
suddenly.
"Tennis! Anything more down there on the farm to surprise us with?"
cried Hilda, eagerly.
"Sure! Did you think the boys and I spent several summers there doing
nothing? Why, we've got a dandy croquet ground, and a child's edition
of a golf course--limited!" laughed Zan, thinking of the area covered
by their golf.
"Zan had better not tell us of any more delights awaiting us or we will
not be content to take the balance of our examinations at school!"
advised Miss Miller, smiling.
"That wouldn't affect your reports of us at school," retorted Zan.
Miss Miller was physical culture teacher at the school the girls
attended and was a great favourite with all. She was an enthusiastic
advocate of outdoor life and was constantly urging her pupils to accept
the simple life of Nature.
At Zan's remark, she said earnestly, "Not my branch of school-work,
no! But the grand total in education for which I work, as a part of
the great machine, would be injured if I did not try to help you all
in your educational efforts. I believe that education is necessary to
elevate the race. You see, it is not a class that must be lifted and
benefited most, but the mass! In education of the individual we finally
embrace the universal. Thus, it depends upon each one of us to make
good--in school studies, at home, in camp--in fact, in every little
thing or thought!"
"We'll make good, all right, Miss Miller, as long as we have you to
show us how!" cried Hilda, admiringly.
"Yes, indeedy!" added Zan.
The latter part of the talk was far above Nita's head, but she had been
quietly thinking of other things. At the pause which followed Zan's
exclamation, she asked, "Is the car going to be sent down for us to
use, Zan?"
"Car! What for?" wondered Zan.
"Why, to get to the stores in the town and carry back our provisions,
of course! Then, too, we will want to see the country, won't we?" said
Nita, surprised.
"Ha! There isn't a store within ten miles, but 'most everything grows
right on the farm. A butcher calls twice a week, and eggs, butter,
milk, and chickens are provided by Bill," explained Zan.
"Bill! Who's Bill?" asked some of the girls eagerly.
"Why, Bill's the farmer, of course. He lives in the farmer's cottage
and looks after the place all winter, besides taking care of the
gardens, cow and chickens all the year round. He works the place on
shares in preference to a salary, and likes it first-rate, he says,"
replied Zan.
"Oh, we didn't know there was a resident farmer. When you mentioned
tennis and croquet, to say nothing of the golf-links, you failed to
give us a hint of farmer or wife," said Miss Miller.
"Well, I had my mind full of sports, you see, and I never class Bill as
a sport!" laughed Zan, the others joining her.
"What's he like?" queried Jane, while Nita added, "Has he any sons?"
"Nita thinks, 'better a farmer than no son at all!'" teased Hilda, for
Nita's preference for boys was no secret with the girls.
"Bill hasn't any family, but he will act as her escort if she needs a
drive about the country for her health!" laughed Zan. "Bill is slow and
staid, as well as lank and lean. He is forever twirling a wisp of grass
between his teeth while he is interviewing you. He swears by his wife's
judgment and his deepest concern is her 'rheumatics.' Mrs. Sherwood
complains of 'stiff jints' during winter and claims that this keeps
her from exercising enough to keep down extra flesh. Consequently, she
is as big and round as a balloon, and wheezes and gasps when she talks.
But they're all right, where good-nature and generosity is concerned,
and will do anything for us."
"I'm sure I wouldn't be seen going out with _such_ a freak!" cried
Nita, disdainfully.
"I don't believe Bill would take you, to tell the truth, Nita. He is
old-fashioned and doesn't favour French heels and low-necked dresses.
He is most orthodox and thinks such frills a sin and a breach of the
commandments!" laughed Zan.
"How will we reach the farm, Zan, if it is so far from the station and
no way to get there?" asked Elena, dubiously.
"Oh, Bill will get us there, even if he carries us in the old spring
wagon, which is preferable to the vehicle he used the first time we
ever visited the farm," exclaimed Zan, following her words with a
contagious laugh, rocking back and forth until the girls demanded to
know what caused her mirth.
"Oh, girls! If you could have stood on that platform as the boys and
I did, waiting for the 'carriage' that we expected to take us to the
farm! Never will I forget it as long as I live!"
Again Zan had to laugh so heartily that she was urged to share her
humour with her friends.
"Dad had been down to look over his wonderful 'suburban investment,'
as we called it then, and had been met at the train by Bill with his
buck-board. When we were ready to go, Bill was notified how many would
arrive. Nothing was to be seen as we jumped off the car and looked
about. Fields, fences, and a long stretch of railroad tracks, and back
of us a hundred yards or so, the tiny village. After a game of tag with
the boys, I spied something moving into sight over the brow of the
hill. I called Dad's attention to it and he declared it was our Jehu
and the taxi! Well! I wish some one had taken a snapshot of that rig!
"It was of the Noah's Ark type, and the nags to pull it had long since
celebrated their thirtieth birthday! We found out afterwards that
Dad ventured to warn Bill about driving safe horses and told him how
nervous Mrs. Baker was with young untrained steeds. Bill wanted to be
on the safe side, I guess, so he hooked up his plough-team. It took
us four hours to cover the ten miles! And when we finally got to the
house, we all ached from the jouncing and strain of holding to the
sides of the wagon."
"Good gracious! you don't expect us to ride in that thing!" cried Nita,
dismayed.
"Why not--it was good enough for me!" retorted Zan.
"No, she doesn't, Nita, for I heard the doctor telephone to the farm
asking some one to meet us with the spring cart, so I am afraid I shall
not have the experience that Zan had that first visit," laughed Miss
Miller, hoping to calm Nita's fear.
"Well, I'd rather stay home than ride and make a spectacle of myself
like that!" said Nita, disdainfully.
"There wasn't a single boy within ten miles to have seen you if you had
been there!" scorned Zan.
"Come, come, girls! Stop arguing and come back to business. There's
still much to decide," remonstrated Miss Miller.
"Yes, I agree with Miss Miller! What's next?" asked Jane.
Thereupon, the teacher read over the various pages of the Woodcraft
Manual, stopping often to suggest ideas, or tell the girls to make a
note on their pads.
"Besides these printed articles, we will need pads to take notes upon
when we go on a hike, or study birds and plants. Then, too, we must be
sure to take a good camera and win some _coups_ that way. Jane, you
have a fine one, maybe you can take yours. Elena, you must be sure
to take your paints and brushes, and Hilda will take her embroidery
things. We must try for all the degrees and _coups_ we can possibly
hope for this summer."
"Oh, Miss Miller! And I might try for a _coup_ in flowers, as I love
that work, and have been complimented on my good work!" exclaimed Hilda.
"Of course! Jane, make a note of taking plenty of blue print paper and
a frame," added the teacher.
"Hilda, be sure to pack your botany books! Between us, we ought to
identify lots of beautiful specimens and make a lovely book of our
prints!" cried Jane, thoroughly roused by the thought.
"Dear, dear! Can't some one think of a specialty in which we excel?"
asked Elena, anxiously.
"We each can win a _coup_ by knowing fifty wild flowers, and Hilda
might try for a grand _coup_ by finding a hundred. Then, we will all
try for _coups_ in knowing stars, butterflies, swimming, birds, and
other knowledge as set forth in the Manual," replied Miss Miller,
enthusiastically.
"Oh, pshaw! Why can't we start this week? I'm so crazy to begin I just
know I won't be able to concentrate on my school exams all through this
and next week!" sighed Jane.
"Then you'll lose a grand _coup_ in education! One must learn to use
self-control in all things. When school is over the reward will prove
all the sweeter for the hard work that preceded it," remonstrated Miss
Miller.
After other minor items had been noted, and the decision made for khaki
clothes for ordinary wear, to save the leather robe for ceremonial
occasions, the teacher could think of nothing more to be discussed at
that meeting. It was growing dark out of doors and lessons remained to
be studied that night, so she brought the first meeting to a close.
At dinner that evening, Zan presented her father with the letter
of thanks signed by the girls of the new Clan. He read it with
satisfaction and passed it over to his wife.
"I hope for great work this summer, Zan," ventured the doctor.
"You can't hope for more than we do," retorted Zan, gaily. "You just
ought to have been with us when we discussed the items needed for camp
work. Every one is crazy to begin--all except Nita."
"Humph! And she is the one I expect more from than all of you
combined!" said the doctor, thoughtfully.
"Oh, you know Nita, Dad! She'll want to leave the next day when she
finds there aren't any boys about to flirt with. And the very idea of
her helping at the camp work makes me laugh! If she lasts a full week,
I'll miss my guess!" replied Zan, tossing her bronze hair.
"Zan, do you want to do Dad a great favour?" asked the doctor,
anxiously.
"Now you know, Dad, I'd eat my head off for you!" cried Zan, throwing
her arms about her father's neck and squeezing him.
"Then watch your words and acts regarding Nita--be most considerate of
her and have patience! She is mentally diseased and no one realises
that she needs healing. This experience with four healthy-minded girls
may prove her salvation in after life. I am putting it up to you,
Zan, to see that your nursing of this peculiar invalid does not tend
to prolong the malady, but will nip the growth of the trouble in its
present stage. Perhaps a few months hence would be too late, and a
cure would be impossible. I rely on you, daughter, to help in this
cure!"
Zan's brothers, Frederick, nicknamed Fiji on account of his
unmanageable hair, and Bobs, short for Robert, had left the dining-room
to study their lessons. Mrs. Baker, the doctor and Zan remained, so
that an uninterrupted silence followed the serious words of the doctor.
Zan sighed heavily, and finally looked up at her father with a bright
smile. "I'll do it, if it takes all the spice out of camp-life!"
The doctor smiled as he replied, "It won't, Zan! In fact, you'll have
all the better fun for knowing in your own heart that you are doing a
duty as well as pleasing your Dad!"
"And while the boys and I are enjoying the days at the beach, I will
feel happier than otherwise, to know you are showing your companions
what real joy and contentment means when found in natural out-door
living," added Mrs. Baker.
CHAPTER TWO
CHOOSING A CAMP SITE
Boxes were shipped, tents and cots had been sent, and the hundred and
one last items always remembered on the day of departure had been
attended to, when Miss Miller met her five charges at the Pennsylvania
Terminal, where they expected to take a train to reach the junction
in New Jersey. At Junction they would have to change and take a local
train before arriving at the insignificant station ten miles from
Wickeecheokee Farm.
As the train whizzed by well-cultivated farms, magnificent estates,
and later, through beautiful, wooded hills, fertile valleys, and over
sparkling waters, the bevy of eager girls exclaimed delightedly at
every new scene. A recent shower had cleared the atmosphere, and the
verdure shone a brilliant green in the bright sunshine. Birds soared
high above tree-tops, singing joyously, while cattle moved leisurely,
grazing over the pastures seen in passing.
"Oh, my, but it feels good to be out of the hot dusty city!" sighed
Jane, leaning back in the seat and inhaling the fragrant air.
"Yes, I can actually think--away from trolleys and rumble of trucks,"
added Zan, pensively.
"That's a novelty for you!" teased Hilda, smiling.
"I can hardly believe my eyes! It seems too good to be true--a whole
summer with no one to pester you about sickness!" said Elena, with
relief expressed on her face.
Miss Miller smiled, but she wondered what the mothers would think
if they but knew how glad their girls were to get away from nagging
foolish worry. How much better to recognise in each girl of their age a
certain amount of responsibility for themselves, and guide by example
or suggestion, instead of demands or coercion.
"Next station is Junction--change cars for all stops on the Rahway
River branch!" shouted a brakeman from the platform.
"So soon! Why, it doesn't seem like an hour and a half, does it?"
exclaimed Zan.
"Why, no! I thought we were only half way there!" replied Miss Miller,
as the girls hastily gathered their baggage together.
The party hurried off, and across the platform to a waiting local train
on a side-track. The engine and coaches were old-fashioned, the windows
small and set high from the floor. The girls laughed at the sight of
such cars, and climbed up the high narrow steps to the platform.
Farmers constituted the majority of the passengers and the city girls
were amused at the different types presented before them.
"Girls, let's open these windows immediately! Mercy, how _can_ any one
sit in these stuffy cars with the crevices all stopped to prevent a
breath of fresh air entering!" exclaimed Miss Miller, impatiently.
The girls laughed, for it was one of the teacher's pet theories that
plenty of fresh air never injured anybody.
The farmers looked askance, however, when the pleasant air circulated
through the car and drove forth the obnoxious odours.
Many of the travellers left the train at small way-stations and Miss
Miller's party had the car all to themselves during the last few miles
of the ride. Zan recognised the land-marks that showed her they were
almost through with their journey, and she ordered the girls to get
ready to leave the car.
Bill Sherwood had been notified that the party would arrive at noon,
and had his team and farm-wagon waiting at the station when the
would-be campers jumped down and looked about in high spirits. Zan
introduced each one to Bill, while the latter grinned and held his
palmetto hat circling in his toil-hardened hands.
Straw had been piled in the bottom of the wagon and the girls were
lifted over the great wheel and dropped into the soft straw. Miss
Miller was accorded the distinction of sitting on the high spring seat
beside the driver. She held her breath in trembling and grasped the
edge of the rocking seat whenever Bill turned a corner or gave way to a
passing vehicle on the narrow road.
The drive over the hills was beautiful and Bill pointed out various
spots along the road and explained the value of soil, herbage, and
trees.
After seven or eight miles had been covered, the horses began ascending
a steep hill well-timbered.
"When we get to the top of this climb you will get one of the loveliest
views we have about here," said Zan.
"Yes'm," assented Bill, "and there's where you kin spy th' farm, too."
"Then we must be almost there," ventured Miss Miller, whose seat on the
loose spring board was anything but comfortable.
"No'm, not by four mile more. The gent what ust t' own th' farm afore
th' doctor got it, ust t' say, 'Bill, this air th' longes' four mile
I ever hope t' travel!'" and Bill chuckled to himself as the team
strained at the haul up the steep road.
Long before the travellers reached the farm every one was stiff and
glad enough to jump out of the wagon. But Bill warned them to wait yet
a while longer--he had pictured to himself the grand manner in which he
would sweep between the two stone posts and flourish his whip as the
wagon rolled up to the front porch. To permit the girls to jump out
prematurely, would spoil his pleasure.
Having accomplished his ambition, he stood by the horses and grinned
while the visitors exclaimed at everything they saw.
"What a gem of an old house!" cried Miss Miller.
"And that grand old oak in front--just see how far its branches sweep
over the lawn!" cried Jane.
"Look, girls! Look! The original 'old oaken bucket that hangs in the
well!'" sang Hilda, as she saw Zan at the long sweep that worked the
bucket.
"It surely is lovelier than anything I ever dreamed of," sighed Elena,
her artistic sense, for once, gratified.
Groups of fruit trees, some squat and thick, some tall and slender,
vied with elms, maples, oaks, and beech trees, in giving beauty and
shade to the grounds about the house. Some distance back of the house
stood a group of barns, sheds, and a tool-house. The grassy space
between was laid out in a croquet ground and tennis courts. Directly
back of the out-buildings was a fine kitchen garden and small-fruit
bushes and vines. The narrow strips dividing the vegetable patches were
a mass of blossoming old-fashioned perennials. The fragrance wafted
from stocks, sweet-peas, petunias, pansies and other flowers, attracted
bees and honey-birds of every species common in Jersey.
"Rickon you'se ain't sorry t' git 'ere?" laughed Bill.
"Indeed we're not! Travelling all day is as tiresome as working all
day," admitted Miss Miller, taking her bag from the back of the wagon.
"Wall, I'll be goin' on t' th' little house, but I'll be on hand ef
yuh need me fur anything," said Bill, after he had deposited all the
baggage on the porch of the house.
"We're going to sleep indoors to-night and start our camp in the
morning, so the only thing we might need will be some milk and butter,"
said Miss Miller.
"I put two quarts o' milk an' a pound o' butter, an' a dozen o' eggs,
in th' ice-chest that stan's in th' back porch," explained Bill, still
hesitating.
"Ice! Do you have ice here?" wondered Jane.
"Shure! Th' doctor built a small ice-house th' fust year he hed th'
place an' we cuts enough ice from th' pond to fill it every year. Th'
pond is fine spring water, y' know, an' th' ice is clear as crystal,"
explained Bill.
"That's what Wickeecheokee means, you know,--Crystal Waters. Of course,
it's an Indian name that Daddy found in some old archives kept in the
County Hall at the Junction," said Zan.
"We've taken your word for Crystal Waters but I haven't seen a drop of
it so far except what was drawn from the well," laughed Miss Miller.
"Plenty of it when th' Spring freshets come down Old Baldy," chuckled
Bill, climbing up to the wagon seat.
"Going home, Bill?" asked Zan, as the farmer gathered up the reins.
"Well, thanks, ever so much, for coming for us, and remember me to your
wife. Tell her we'll be over there soon," said Zan.
"Oh, that reminds me, Bill, I brought a little present for you and the
wife--wait a moment until I open my bag!" exclaimed Miss Miller, going
to the porch and taking two packages therefrom.
"Mighty much obliged, ma'am!" said Bill, doffing his wide-brimmed hat,
obsequiously.
As soon as the girls were alone Zan unlocked the front door of
the house and ushered her companions inside a long living-room. A
chimney-piece embraced seven feet of space just opposite the door and
the wide cavern of brick fire-place presented a cheery picture to one
who could imagine its blaze and crackle of hickory logs while sparks,
and tongues of flame, leaped up the chimney on a frosty night!
The girls examined books and pictures while Miss Miller went into
raptures over the old mahogany settee, the tilting table, real Sheraton
bookcase and chairs, and a Boston rocker. She tried each in turn, then
spied a grand-father's clock in the corner, and marvelled at the old
wooden works which were strung with cat-gut.
Zan laughed at the different expressions of surprise on her guests'
faces, and when the teacher drew forth an inlaid sewing-table,
exclaiming at the beauty of the lines, she explained: "Muzzer loves to
ride about the country collecting old furniture. Dad made all manner
of fun at first, but he, too, caught the germ, and now he will go for
miles when he hears of some old family that is scattered and wishes
to sell out. The boys and I have stood on the porch and doubled over
laughing at the spectacle Dad and Muzzer have made, trying to drive
through the gateway while a long carved post of an old mahogany
bedstead stuck fast between the gate-posts!"
"What a shame it is to hide these really precious pieces down here! I
love antique furniture when it is good and genuine, and I could almost
cry to think no one ever sees these!" said the teacher, examining a
Colonial Connecticut spindle chair.
"Oh, but we do! And now, you are enjoying them, too!" laughed Zan.
"Just come out to the dining-room if you want to see some real stuff!"
An old Colonial side-board, a massive round table, six Chippendale
chairs in excellent condition, and a linen-press, gave Miss Miller
still further cause to exclaim. The entire scheme was most harmonious,
for old braided mats lay upon the wide-boarded floors, wall-paper was
of the quaint old-fashioned pattern, and a genuine Franklin heater
stood in the corner in case of cool weather. A few logs thrown into its
vast cavern, soon took the chill from the pleasant dining-room, Zan
explained.
"I am afraid I shall prefer to stay here instead of going to the camp,
Zan," ventured Miss Miller, ruefully.
"Then, you'd best sleep on the lawn to-night, for the bed-rooms present
still further temptations!" laughed Zan.
The four girls had gone out of the side-door to see what adventures
were to be found in the back-gardens, but at this point they ran in all
duly excited, so the subject of antiques was abandoned until later.
"Oh, just think! Nita found a rabbit scuttling away. It disappeared
down a hole!" cried Hilda.
"Come and see! Hurry up, Miss Miller!" added Nita.
Zan followed the girls, explaining the presence of the rabbit. "The
boys started several warrens last summer. One is in the woods, one in
the rear garden, and the other is over by the falls."
"I think I'd like to visit the river and falls, Zan, and judge for
ourselves of the truth of the kodak picture!" said the teacher.
"Maybe some one's hungry--and the walk over to the woods takes some
time," hinted Zan, looking at the others.
"Oh, we had plenty to eat on the train, and we can finish our
sandwiches when we get back," answered Jane, eagerly. So the luggage
was left on the porch where it had been placed by Bill, and a noisy
group started off.
Over springy turf, under shady trees, climbing low walls that divided
pastures from grain-fields, these city-bred girls went shouting from
very exuberance of spirits.
At the farthest side of a buckwheat field stood a beautiful grove of
maples. Zan headed straight for this grove and jumped the stone wall
that enclosed the field.
"Hallo! The ground's full of springs! That means we'll have lots of sap
next Spring!" said she, smacking her lips.
"Sap! What kind of sap?" asked the girls curiously.
"Why, maple sap, you ninnies! Didn't you know this was a sap-bush?"
laughed Zan, looking at her companions to assure herself that they were
in earnest.
"I never heard of a sap-bush! I don't see any bushes!" retorted Nita.
"Ha-ha-ha! It's these maples that give us the sap for maple-sugar.
I bet there's lots of maple-sugar in the house this very minute. We
always come here for a few days when the farmers boil the sap down.
It's one of the sports of having a farm."
"Zan, you're a lucky girl! Not one of us ever had the chance of having
all you have had!" murmured Jane.
"I just guess your folks could have had ten farms if you had wanted
them, but you and your brother always wanted to go to fashionable
places!" retorted Zan, truthfully.
They had reached the snake-fence that separated the maple grove
from the woodland, and Zan immediately started climbing over the
simple-looking barrier. She soon hopped off on the other side and
turned to watch the others surmount the difficulty.
"What a queer-looking fence--why do they have two rows of rails?" asked
Elena, while the others tried to reach the top rail.
"Dear me! how did you get over so easily, Zan?" called Nita, who
constantly rolled back at each step.
"Ha-ha! it's a trick fence!" laughed Zan, doubling over with enjoyment
at the different poses the girls were forced to take while they
struggled with loose poles that _would_ roll over.
Miss Miller stood on the ground and studied the problem for several
moments. Then her face expressed understanding and she tried again.
This time she did not lean her weight on the upper part of her body as
she grasped the loose rails, but balanced on her feet, merely using her
grasp above to steady her in climbing.
In a few seconds she reached the top rail, where there was no other
hold. She had a choice of two ways: lay down on the length of top-rail
and crawl down the other side or jump clear from a height of six feet.
She chose the latter.
"How did you do it?" cried several voices.
Miss Miller laughed and joined Zan, who whispered, "You should have
mounted at the cross-posts. See what a fine hold that gives you when
you reach the top?" and Zan demonstrated her words by climbing back.
The girls watched closely and, as Zan returned slowly for their
benefit, they endeavoured to imitate her.
"Might as well overcome the first obstacle now as later--you'll find
plenty of snake-fences to cross in the country," said Zan.
Nita and Hilda soon found the secret of balancing on the rolling poles,
but Elena and Jane had several tumbles before they could scramble over.
A foot-path led through the woods and soon the girls heard the sound of
falling water.
"That must be the river!" exclaimed Nita, eagerly.
"No, you hear the water of the Falls. I'm taking you to the Bluff
first. We can stand there and see the pool, the stream above the
Falls and the slope that goes down to the Big Bridge. We called the
Falls 'Wickeecheokee Falls' and the stream,--which really is only a
creek--'Wickeecheokee River,'" replied Zan.