"He said he had never seen you in such fine health. He said that your
very hair sparkled with better vitality, and your eyes were a rested
blue now, where they used to be so tired. Then, too, he spoke of the
improved poise in your general manners," said Miss Miller kindly,
patting Nita on the shoulder.
"I'm so glad, but I really did feel badly, Miss Miller, when I found
it was impossible for my family to be here with the others. I am sure
mother would have been proud to see how well I am, and father would
take great pleasure in seeing me do all the things I can do now," said
Nita wistfully.
At that admission, the Guide thanked goodness that she had urged the
doctor to make an excuse for Nita's parents, and she vowed that never a
word of the truth would reach the girl from her. Time, she knew to be
a kind healer, so it would not hurt as much should Mrs. Brampton ever
mention it. But Miss Miller thought she understood Nita's mother well
enough to know that of her own accord she would never touch upon an
unpleasant subject.
The Band were so fatigued that immediately after a light supper they
sought their cots, and were soon sound asleep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RAINY DAYS AND WOODCRAFT LORE
The Band soon settled down into routine life again after the surprise
party, the girls excelling each other in the preparation of simple
meals, swimming, and other requirements of a first-rate Woodcrafter.
They often referred to the Manual for ideas of how to win _coups_ and
honours, their ambition being to be able at the end of the summer to
show a long line of decorations for their ceremonial dress.
Nita was working eagerly on an Indian Clock, or sundial for camp.
Jane was making a correct map of the country about the camp. Elena
was interested in collecting and mounting moths and insects for grand
_coups_. Zan was becoming so expert with rod and tackle that ofttimes
she returned to camp, after a few hours' absence, with a fine mess of
fish. She was eager to win a _coup_ for this claim, and was becoming a
good sportswoman. Hilda, always inclined to household ideas, had won
her _coup_ for cooking, and making an Indian bed. It was her suggestion
that met with great enthusiasm, and that was for all to join in
building a log cabin near the camp site.
[Illustration: PRACTICING FOR THE ARCHERY _COUP_.
_The Woodcraft Girls at Camp. Page 276_]
This was considered great fun, and whenever any extra time was found
the girls were always busy working on the construction of the cabin.
Miss Miller had drawn working plans for them and selected and expounded
the values of timber and trimming.
The weather for the first five weeks had been unusually clear and fine,
but the second week in August came in cloudy, and a penetrating mist
fell every other day, even if it did not rain hard enough to keep the
Band indoors.
"Dear me, I wish it would rain, or do something definite, and be done
with it!" exclaimed Hilda, one morning, as she shivered at the dampness
of the ground.
"Seems to me I haven't seen the sun for an age!" added Jane.
"Well, I'm thankful we managed our _coups_ for star-gazing and outdoor
things while the weather was so good," said Zan.
"Yes, 'cause there wouldn't be much pleasure in a hunt through the
marsh for bugs, or a hike over wet hills for flowers, with this fog
sifting into your marrow," whimpered Nita.
"Girls, you've done nothing but complain over the weather for the past
two days. It positively makes me cold, too, to listen to you. Suppose
you try to change the fog into something like sunshine within," advised
the Guide.
"Miss Miller, how can you, when you feel like that hard-boiled egg that
refused to digest?" called Hilda, who had just eaten a hard-boiled egg
for her breakfast.
"Seems to me Miss Miller believes in Fletcherizing everything in
camp-life so that we, on our return home, will win the _coup_ of being
termed thoroughly digestible even in fog!" cried Zan, making a face at
Hilda.
"One thing Headquarters can say of you, Zan, and that is that your
English is Fletcherized so well these days that grammatical indigestion
from excessive use of slang is a disease of the past," remarked Miss
Miller.
"All the same, there's room for still more improvement," retorted
Hilda, who could not win the same commendation from the Guide for
careful speaking as Zan did.
"I have such faith in modern improvements, Hilda, that I would go to
the trouble of tearing up and discarding old fixtures as long as I
could hope for a thorough renovation. That is a delectable future you
all will take pleasure in looking for," mocked the irrepressible Zan,
with a sweeping courtesy.
The others laughed, and Nita, whose face and manners had changed almost
miraculously since her red-letter talk with the Guide, turned to her
and asked: "What are the plans for to-day?"
"Well, as the rain is making it unpleasant to remain here, and a walk
is out of the question, we might go to the house and light a cheerful
wood fire. With some books and a circle of happy Woodcrafters round
the fire, I can't picture a better day."
"That sounds like a good time, even if it will be a dry one," declared
Zan, giggling at her pun.
"Perhaps you've never heard the old saying of the something-or-other
who always laughs at his own jokes," retorted Hilda.
"Perhaps you're not aware that my native wit is actually penetrating
your thick----" Zan caught herself just in time.
"Huh! Afraid of a demerit! Why didn't you conclude?" dared Hilda.
"Pooh! I should worry over one little demerit when I can relieve
congestion of my manners! So here's to you, Hilda, old girl. I'll put
it over you, old top! Now, does my native wit penetrate your thick
cocoanut?" chuckled Zan maliciously.
Although every one laughed at Zan's taking the dare in such a wholesale
sweep, Miss Miller felt obliged to change the subject, while Elena
quietly did her duty in noting a demerit for the culprit.
Wickee accompanied his friends to the house, and stretched out in front
of the log fire the moment it was blazing in the chimney-place. The
girls sat about, enjoying the cosy warmth for a few minutes before
going to the small library.
"Let's bring the books out here, it is so much nicer and makes you
forget that we are not in front of a genuine campfire," suggested Miss
Miller.
This idea met with approval, and soon every one was squatted in a
circle about the fire. Wick, be it understood, holding his prior
position of comfort in front of the blaze.
"Miss Miller, did you ever take any special interest in bird life?"
asked Elena, who was turning over the pages of a book on birds[B] which
she had found in the doctor's bookcase.
"Yes, indeed, I love birds of all kinds, and I always try and make
friends with any that come near enough. I have been thinking how nice
it would be to construct some bird-houses and coax our little feathered
friends to live with us in camp."
"Yes, yes, let's! We can begin to-morrow if it is clear, eh!" abetted
Jane, eagerly.
"Motion carried without a protest!" said Zan.
"Miss Miller wins a merit, too. Too bad Zan hadn't thought of it, she
needs merits," remarked Nita.
"I was too busy planning something of much more importance to the Band
than a few little flats for newly-weds!"
"What was it--tell us before you forget," cried Jane.
"Well, just this! I am sure Miss Miller has a ton of interesting
stories stored away in her memory, and this is just the kind of a day
to hear some of them."
"Hurrah! Zan's right. We'll vote for Miss Miller to relieve her memory
of some of the bird-tales," added Hilda.
"Maybe the bird-tales I can give you have feathers!" laughed the Guide.
"We won't object to feathers as long as they are not moulting!" came
back from Zan, quick as a flash.
They all laughed at the retort and the Guide continued her argument
by saying, "I never like to _give_ away anything, it is too much like
charity, but a fair return for anything given is a benefit for both.
Suppose I tell each one a story of some bird you find in the book, you
to tell me of its habits, distinguishing characteristics, and other
data."
"It's a go! We all agree to refuse charity when a much pleasanter offer
is made," said Elena.
"Then we will begin with the oldest Indian in the Band--Jane, you
first!" said the Guide.
"Humph! I am very fond of bluebirds; suppose I select them, you'll have
to wait a minute until I find something in the book about bluebirds,"
replied Jane, opening the book they had.
"The bluebird is one of the heralds of Spring; the male appears about
a week before the female. While awaiting his mate Mr. Bluebird visits
his old haunts and gossips happily with his old friends the robins. The
beautiful colours of the bluebird makes him very dear to bird lovers,
for he actually brings a bit of Spring sky to chilled winter hearts. It
is as the poet wrote, 'with the sky-tinge on his back and the earth
tinge on his breast.'
"After a few days the females arrive in loose flocks, and then is heard
the love-notes of the bluebird during his wooing of a mate. When the
mate of his choice and he start to think of house-keeping they find a
suitable place in an orchard-tree, stump root, old post, or a modern
flat as Zan says, made by some friendly hand. Most of the house-work,
such as nest building, is done by Mrs. Bluebird while the master of the
establishment warbles and flits about to cheer his spouse.
"Soon a few pale blue eggs are laid in the nest and in a short time
tiny nestlings appear. Now both parents are out providing food for the
children who eat greedily and grow rapidly. When they are strong enough
to fly they leave home to seek their own fortunes and Mrs. Bluebird
starts another brood."
"That was very good, Jane; now, do you think you can recognise a
bluebird when you see one?" said the Guide.
"Hardly; but a concise description follows this: Bluebirds are larger
than the English Sparrow, being about seven inches long. Upper parts,
wings, and tail of the male are bright blue, the throat, breast, and
sides are brownish; the belly whitish. The female's colour is similar
but of a duller shade.
"In the summer they are found anywhere from the Gulf of Mexico to
Canada, and in the winter they travel as far south as Mexico."
"Now I will tell you a true story a friend of mine told me. I was
speaking of the gentleness of a bluebird when my friend remarked,
'They can fight as fiercely as others if their selection of a home is
questioned.' Then he went on to mention an incident.
"A pair of bluebirds visited the gourd-shaped nest of an Eave Swallow,
built the season before. Deciding after many visits that it would suit,
they made their home there.
"Robins, swallows, and sparrows that came near were fought off by the
male bird from his perch on the roof near the nest.
"All went well until one day, after a severe rain storm, the nest fell
and the half-grown birds scattered about the steps. One was dead, the
others lying quite stunned and still.
"Lining a small wooden box with soft grass and moss, we nailed it up
where the mud nest had been and placed the young birds in it. The
homeless parents watched us anxiously and when we left the new domicile
they took up their interrupted house-keeping with a great flutter of
importance."
"Wasn't that cute of them!" said Nita, smiling when the story ended.
"I guess that friend of yours must like birds!" commented Zan.
"Indeed he does--in fact, there are two friends, a man and his wife,
and I wouldn't dare say which one is fonder of birds," said the Guide,
her voice taking a reminiscent tone as she recalled the valued visits
at their home.
"Now it is Nita's turn, being next in age," said Miss Miller, smiling
in the direction of the girl who was poring over the small yellow book.
"Why, I was so interested that I forgot! Isn't it fine to find out all
about such wonderful things that are about us all the time without our
eyes ever seeing!" exclaimed Nita.
"Perhaps that is what is meant when the Bible speaks of 'eyes have ye
and ye see not,' and in another place something about our eyes being
holden so that we do not see the beauties of Spirit," said Miss Miller.
"I know that my eyes have beheld more beauty in nature since we came
here than I ever dreamed was in the world," said Elena, gratefully.
"I haven't decided on a beautiful bird so much as the fact that we
have heard many of them about our camp--I mean the catbird. I see a
description in this book so I will read it," said Nita.
"The catbird can be found as far north as southern Canada, and in the
winters south as far as Florida. It is nine inches in length, and
smaller than a robin. The upper parts are slate coloured shading into
black on brown and tail. Under parts are slaty grey, with warm brown
patch under the tail.
"Its nest is hidden in thick bushes and is built of twigs, grasses
and leaves. The five or six eggs are of a beautiful green and the
parents utter their distressed call whenever a hostile bird or animal
approaches its young."
"Nita's description is correct, but I must admit that I haven't
any real incident of a catbird to tell you," said Miss Miller. "A
few details omitted by Nita, I can supply however. He is sleek and
well-groomed, being very proud of his appearance. After he is satisfied
with his toilet, he will swing on an alder and pipe his low and
melodious note. But how different his tone, should you approach the
nest while his mate is watching a brood of young. Then they will give a
spiteful and shrill call that is almost rasping on sensitive nerves.
"The catbird is a clever imitator and many a woodsman has been misled
by thinking he was on the trail of a bird he much hoped to secure, or
watch. Suddenly, when he nears the place where he heard the note of
the rare bird, the disappointed human will hear the catbird give a
mocking laugh. It also mews like a cat, so naturally that it derives
its name from the habit. I may add that Woodcraft Indians should offer
an honour to every catbird that overcomes the disagreeable habit of
hoarse mewing. I have heard that a catbird has imitated perfectly a
strain of 'Yankee Doodle' and other music. Sometimes, one will become
tame and live in the home of its human friends, in this way learning to
utter sounds peculiar to mortals. One catbird is said to have cried so
naturally like the baby of the house that the mother never could tell
which it was--baby or bird."
"I think I'll choose a wren for my bird--they are so small and busy all
day long," said Hilda.
"I know a very pretty story of Jenny Wren, so you may begin to earn it
just as soon as you like," replied Miss Miller.
"The wren is found in the eastern states and is about five inches long,
the wings being over two inches. Its colour is reddish brown barred
with dusky shades; under-parts are brownish grey. The most familiar
wren is our house wren which is fond of associating with men, building
its nest near the habitations of its human friend. The nests are made
of twigs and grasses and lined with any soft material the wren can
find. The eggs are from five to six in number and are of a reddish
shade."
"Now for Miss Miller's story!" cried Elena, eagerly.
"One summer a friend of mine was washing windows and her cloth fell
on to the porch roof directly under the window. Her boy had built a
bird-house of an empty starch-box with a hole cut in the end. This box
was placed in a tree opposite the roof. As it had only been there a
day, no one thought of tenants so soon. But the cloth was needed and
she stepped down to the edge of the roof where it lay. At the same time
two little wrens flew away from the top of the box where they had been
watching the suspicious actions of the woman on the room.
"She threw some woollen threads and a handful of crumbs on the roof
and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the wrens return and eat the
bread, then carry the woollen bits into the box.
"That summer two broods were raised and sent forth into the world to
cheer other people. But one little member of the second brood was so
delicate that it could not leave the nest at the début of her brothers.
My friend watched the nest that day, and was most eager to see what the
little thing would do. That night, a prowling cat must have climbed the
tree and caught both father and mother, but the child escaped--possibly
by being caught in the notch of a friendly bough as it fell from the
cat's claws.
"Next morning, the family were shocked to find feathers where the
parents had been, and the boy, climbing the tree sadly to take down the
house, heard a faint cheep! He sought and found the half-dead birdling.
It was carried indoors and its broken leg placed in tiny splints. After
a few days the family saw with delight, that the wren would live. It
grew to be a strong bird, and as soon as practical, it was placed in
a hand-made nest under the eaves of the roof directly over the window
which faced the old box-nest.
"Jenny, as she was called, flew away with her friends in the Fall and
the family all felt that it was farewell forever.
"The following Spring, as my friend was spading about the front flower
garden, she heard a familiar cheep in the tree above her head. She
looked up and saw a wren winking down at her.
"Oh, how much it looks like Jenny, but of course it can't be!"
exclaimed she to the boy.
A few moments later the wren flew down and lit quite near the woman,
and cheeped away as if the story must be told. The boy ran in and found
his father's field-glasses. With these he examined the leg of the bird
and then shouted, 'It's Jenny! It's our own Jenny with the mended leg!'
"And so it was. Jenny remembered and came back to her old home and
remained to raise her family. The following year she came again, and
the next year also. After that she came no more."
"Dear little Jenny--that was a sweet story, Miss Miller," said Nita.
"I want to select grouse for my wild bird--they are so pretty," said
Elena, contemplating a picture of the grouse.
"That will be a good selection--now let us hear about it," replied Miss
Miller.
"There are varied species of grouse, the most common, being found
in northern and temperate parts of America, Europe and Asia. The
largest ones found in Europe are commonly called Wood Grouse. It is a
magnificent bird that grows to be from two feet nine inches to four
feet in extended breadth, and weighs from eight to fourteen pounds.
There are also in Europe the Black Grouse, Heath-Cock, and Black Game.
"The prairie chicken inhabits the western prairies of the United States
and is the best for taste of any of the native grouse. They are much
smaller than European grouse and weigh but three to five pounds.
"In New England and the Middle States the grouse is known better as the
partridge, and in the south as the pheasant. They can be found where
deep woods afford seclusion. They are so much sought after by hunters
that the government had to pass a law to prevent them from becoming
extinct. Their colouring is adapted to the colour scheme of nature and
aids him in hiding from his pursuers. In early May a nest is built in
a dip, or hollow, near the foot of a tree or old stump. The eggs are
light buff and number twelve and more. The young grouse run about with
the mother as soon as they are hatched and in a week they are able to
fly about. A brood remains intact until hunters, dogs, or wild animals
break up the family."
Elena gave a signal for the Guide's story.
"The only one I can think of this moment is one told me by the same
friend who related so many bird-tales to me.
"He thought it might be possible to capture some young grouse and raise
them in captivity and tame them. So, one day, while walking through an
ancient wood road thickly covered with beech leaves, he found a mother
with her brood of little chicks not more than a few days old.
"He endeavored to catch some and advanced toward the little fellows.
As he did so, the mother uttered a hissing sound very disagreeable to
the ear, and flew at him with wings spread and head low. As he did not
stir she charged almost to his feet, then turned and struggled off,
painfully dragging a wing as though it had been broken.
"He was so interested in watching the mother that he forgot momentarily
about the chicks. He followed the poor mother for a short distance,
gaining on her at every stride until he was near enough to pick her up
carefully.
"Whoop--whirrr! away she flew with no indication of an injury to either
wing. When he sought for the chicks not one could be seen.
"Refusing to have a grouse fool him in that simple manner, he hid among
the leaves of a thicket and waited patiently.
"After a time a whirr of wings flew by the thicket and soon the mother
called _Kwit, kwit_! Then, out of the leaves came the little fellows,
and hopped about their mother. They had been hidden under leaves nearby
and so quiet had they kept that not a sound or peep of any of them
betrayed the hiding place."
"Did he catch them?" eagerly asked Elena.
"No, indeed, he smiled at the solicitude of the mother and the rare
obedience of the children who had been taught what they must do in
times of danger, so that he walked back home empty-handed."
"I s'pose wild animals eat lots of them?" ventured Hilda.
"Yes, the grouse is hunted both by man and beast. But the grouse knows
by instinct just what to do, so they sit up in the branches of a tree
during the night hours when four-footed hunters seek to catch them.
Then, they find a new peril awaiting them if an owl happens to be near.
Owls love to feast on a nice plump grouse.
"Beside the owl, the grouse is exposed to the cold of winter when
he has to flee to the branch of a tree; if snow covers the ground
sufficiently to blanket him he dives head first from his perch into the
soft hiding place and it closes over him, keeping him warm and giving
protection at the same time."
"Humph! I could yearn for the millennium-time when the lion and lamb
shall walk together, for then the grouse will be quite safe, won't he?"
said Zan, almost in tears over the troubles of the little brown bird.
"Yes, that will be a wonderful time, Zan, and we shall all be at peace
there," replied Miss Miller, looking away out of the open door.
"Now see what you started, Zan Baker!" whispered Elena, who was
impatient to continue the bird stories.
Miss Miller laughed and Zan retorted, "A demerit for Elena--using
slang!"
"I've chosen the hawk--not because it is beautiful or lovable but
because I do not know much about them," said Zan.
"Well, you have covered three distinct types in one selection, for the
owl, the eagle and the hawk have much the same habits. Now read your
lesson," said the Guide.
"The hawk family has several branches, the most common and the fiercest
is called the sparrow hawk. In olden times the nobles at Court liked to
go hawking--that is they trained hawks to hunt for them. Too, falcons
were used for the same purpose.
"A hawk has a beak much like a falcon, but its wings are shorter and
lacks the pointed tip. It is found in cold countries and in the hills
and mountains of northern climates.
"Among the hundreds of varieties in the world, there are over thirty
distinct kinds in America. Among the commoner known are the pigeon
hawk, the chicken hawk, the sparrow hawk, and marsh hawk."
Zan stopped short and studied the book for a moment, then said, "It
doesn't say anything about nests or the young hawks."
"Well, then I will speak a good word for the hawk for he needs it.
Farmers used to think he was an enemy to be watched and shot on sight.
Recent years, however, have shown that the hawk will not steal a
chicken or pigeon, if there are enough mice or rodents about. Even
destructive insects will furnish a lunch for him, if he can find
enough. As they destroy the very things a farmer dreads for his crops,
they really become a ready-aid to house-cleaning the fields.
"From the reading Zan gave us you might be led to think that hawks only
inhabited cold countries, but that is not so. They are well distributed
over North America and migrate south with other feathered tribes. Some
remain permanently in the south. The name sparrow hawk does not signify
that he kills our little sparrow, for he does not. He lives mainly on
insects. The hawk's nest is generally found in an old tree hollow and
the eggs number four to five--brown spotted in colour and thick shelled.
"Mr. Thompson-Seton says of the marsh hawk, 'that they eat mice,
reptiles, frogs, and birds, but rarely attack fowls,' and Mr. Seton is
an authority not to be disputed.