ten. Miss Miller, it will be much nicer if you tell us about the others
and let us hear and think, then apply our lessons later," suggested Zan.
The other girls heartily approved of the suggestion, so the Guide
looked at her watch and smilingly said, "It is almost time for lunch,
and we haven't been near the kitchen yet."
"Well, lunch can wait to-day--we have all afternoon anyway!" replied
Jane looking out at the pouring rain.
"I think I'll speak of the birds we are apt to find in our woods at
home. Then, should you see one you can better apply your knowledge,"
said the Guide.
"The swallow is one of our most graceful birds. There are the common
barn swallow, the eave swallow, tree swallow and bank swallow.
"The barn swallow is our greatest neighbour; he is about seven inches
long with a body of steel-blue on the upper parts, head, throat and
breast a warm chestnut colour. The outer tail feathers are sharply
forked in shape and are tipped with white. The wing feathers when
spread wide also show a dot of white now and then. They travel as far
north as Greenland in summer and go to South America in winter.
"The eave swallow builds its gourd-shaped nest under the eaves of the
barn, as you doubtless understood from his name. The nests are built
of clay or mud, and often, when the young birds are newly hatched
the weight causes the nest to break away from the eaves and general
destruction results. The brave little swallow begins anew, however, and
soon another home and family are his reward. The nests are lined with
soft feathers and grass and have a small round entrance from which the
lady of the house peeps forth at her neighbours.
"Eave swallows resemble their cousins the barn swallows in shape and
color, but they are not as graceful and lack the forked tail. They are
slightly shorter too, and have a brown ring around the neck.
"Bank swallows are always flitting about in daytime and you can often
see them resting on the telegraph wires. He should be called the
engineer swallow, as he is a digger of tunnels. He cuts into a bank
with his feet until he has tunnelled for a yard or so. In a small nook
at the end he makes the nest.
"These swallows are but five inches long and feed on insects as do all
swallows. They are found in North America and migrate as far south as
Brazil in winter.
"A bird sometimes called chimney swallow is also known by the name of
chimney swift. It nests in the chimneys now, but in days when few white
folks lived in America it lived in hollow trees or caves."
The girls sat with eyes intent on the Guide as she paused and Jane
said, "Fine, Miss Miller, but you still have four more stories."
"I ought to be allowed time to breathe and take a sip of water like any
public speaker does," said Miss Miller, rising to go to the porch where
stood a bucket of fresh water from the well.
"We'll have a drink too, it is more convivial when all join in,"
laughed Nita.
"Since it is Nature's special brew I heartily endorse your suggestion,"
replied Miss Miller, in thought reading again the contents of Doctor
Baker's letter.
Comfortably grouped once more near the fire, the Guide continued.
"A bird we are sure to hear while in camp is the whippoorwill. When you
first hear his cry you will feel startled, wondering who is about to be
whipped. Then, as the cry is repeated over and over from the willows,
or some other tree, you will remember my story.
"This bird flies in the night and rests in the daytime. They build
no nests but lay two eggs on a stump, or on the ground. It is a
reddish-brown in colour, mottled with grey-black and white.
"They eat great quantities of destructive insects and thus prove a help
to mankind.
"Many superstitious folk used to believe that a whippoorwill boded ill
to the family it serenaded, but this foolishness is fast disappearing
as the understanding of bird-life and denizens of the forest becomes
wide-spread. And, girls, camps and organisations like Woodcraft are
actually bringing about the boon of knowledge to deluded and ignorant
mortals."
"Long live Woodcraft!" came from Zan in a deep-toned boom.
The others laughed and Miss Miller assumed a more comfortable position
before she continued.
"There are so many sweet little birds that I am sure we have seen
this summer that I hardly know where to begin. I want to speak of the
oriole, the bobolink, the friendly sparrow, the lark, and, in fact, I
can't repeat more just now. But one bird I must acquaint you with is
the wood-pecker.
"In the spring you will see the red-headed wood-pecker. They used to
be very tame and trusting, but they have thinned out considerably of
recent years. The head, neck and throat are bright crimson, their backs
black, and under parts white. The wings and tails are bluish black, and
the wings in flight are plainly barred with white.
"He builds a nest in a hollow tree and feeds upon nuts which he stores
in hollow fence posts and trees, as well as on insects and slugs. A
favourite delicacy is the fresh sap of a tree. So eager is he to get
the latter that he will drill a hole in a perfectly healthy orchard
tree and drink the fluid that forms in the little cups drilled by the
marauder. In this way, a fine fruit-bearing tree will soon show signs
of the ravages of the sap-sucker.
"Our cheeriest bird-friend, I think, is the robin, for he announces
that spring is surely come to stay.
"I am not going into details about robin, for you know as much as I do
about him, but he ought to be included in our ten, I think," said Miss
Miller.
"Oh, yes, he was a favourite with the Indians, too," added Zan.
"A queer bird I want to tell you about is the loon. You will not
find him about this section of the country, but some day when we
camp farther north in the mountains, we will recognise him readily.
He utters a cry so like the wail of a human being that it is hard to
believe a mere bird can do it.
"The loon is an accomplished fisherman and can dive as well as any
expert, in fact he is known as the great diver. He swims like a fish
and rides waves as easily as a sea-gull. The great speed with which he
swims under water permits him to catch all the fish he wants for food.
"The loon is a peculiarly formed bird, the legs being set so far back
under the tail that he almost topples over when walking on land, but
this very thing gives him the power to propel swiftly in water.
"He builds a nest of grass and rushes as near the water as possible
and two large eggs are laid and carefully hatched by the female.
"The keen desire of sportsmen to capture the birds that evaded them so
cleverly, finally drove the loons of the Middle Atlantic States to find
shelter in the north and west where primeval forest still protected
them."
The Guide got up from her chair as a signal that the story-telling was
over for the day, and the girls stretched out on the rug wishing the
hour was ten instead of twelve.
"If you had all you wanted of one good thing you would never realise
all the good things in store for you," said Miss Miller.
"I suppose lunch is a good thing, but when you have to get it before
eating it, it somehow loses its quality of goodness," replied Hilda,
getting up on hands and knees before standing erect.
"See how funny Hilda looks with her two pig-tails down over her head!"
shouted Zan, while Hilda's head was bent low.
"That gives me an inspiration I needed for this afternoon's
entertainment. I have been puzzled about Hilda's share in it. Now, if
you girls will hurry to help with dinner, we can the sooner enjoy the
surprise I have planned," said Miss Miller.
No further urging was necessary, for each anticipated a treat when Miss
Miller spoke as she did.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE THUNDER BIRD SPEAKS
Immediately after dinner, the Band gathered again in the living-room
and Miss Miller began showing the girls how to make different kinds of
knots. This was something new and it proved very interesting although
it took a long time before anything like a successful knot resulted
from the many twists and snarls made in the rope.
Then, Miss Miller showed them how to make a threadlashing, and to
splice a rope correctly. This also was unusual work and proved
interesting.
"I want to have you each try for a degree of Frontier Scout and eight
tests successfully taken along these lines will win the degree for
you. I wanted to teach you how to solder a tin and temper a knife. You
already know how to use an axe correctly, and knowing how to do the
things shown you this afternoon will make seven altogether. I spoke
to Bill the other day about showing you how to milk his cow, and he
laughed but proved willing to teach," said Miss Miller.
"Oh, Miss Miller, save us that experience!" cried Jane.
"I'd be scared to pieces to go near that wild-looking animal, Miss
Miller!" exclaimed Nita, fear shining from her eyes.
"Why, she wouldn't hurt you," laughed Zan.
"But just think! She may turn and butt me!" said Nita, shuddering at
the idea.
"Ha, ha! She couldn't, Nita--her horns are worn off with age!" screamed
Zan, the very suggestion of grey old Bossy butting making her double
over.
"Well, I think I'd rather lose a degree or take some other test,"
insisted Nita, so the subject was dropped for the time being.
The next hour was given to making records in Tally Books, filling in
claims and witnessing properly all the claims the girls were entitled
to take, and then the question of how to win additional _coups_ and
grand _coups_ started again. Whenever a pause occurred in camp routine
and fun, that seemed to lack something to fill in, the subject of how
to win _coups_ was always the most interesting to discuss.
Zan had gone to the porch to bring in a bucket of drinking water and
she now announced that the rain had ceased and she had seen enough blue
sky to make an old maid's night-cap.
"I don't think it can last!" said the Guide.
"Oh, don't say it so dubiously, Miss Miller. Haven't we had enough of
rain all week?" cried Jane.
"It is through now, however! The wind has veered!" exclaimed Hilda who
had gone to the side-door and watched the weather-vane on the barn.
"The wind may change again within a moment's time," ventured the Guide.
"Oh, pshaw! We'd rather take a chance on the weather than stay cooped
here any longer!" said Elena, backed by the sense of being shut up in a
house, even though the day had been disagreeable.
"Well, are we going to start for the Bluff?" came from Zan.
"Yes, but we may as well take our left-over dinner with us. It won't
be such fun to get that camp-fire burning in the soaked fire-place,"
replied Hilda.
As the suggestion was a good one, the girls each took a dish or pail
and started on the trail to camp.
"It really is too bad we couldn't take the cheerful fire with us--but
I left the wire shield in front of it, in case it blazes up again,"
remarked Nita.
"That was very thoughtful of you, dear. I quite forgot about the fire,"
admitted the Guide.
"We won't need it again, so it doesn't matter much," came from Jane.
"Supposing it begins to pour rain again before night--shall we run to
the house for the night?" said Elena, who had been listening to Nita's
conversation with the Guide.
"It won't rain any more, never fear!" called Zan.
Wickee was not fond of walking in wet leaves, or past bushes that
showered water all over him as he passed, so he dropped to the rear
of the line and walked carefully in the narrow pathway that had been
well-worn during the past month.
At camp, everything looked dismal and uninviting. The rain had beaten
through into the cupboard and all the groceries were sodden. It had
trickled on top of the ice-chest and by following a groove in the lid,
managed to force an entry inside. The consequence was that a pool of
rain-water stood two inches deep about the ice, butter, pudding for
supper, and other items that were floating about when the lid was
raised.
"I hope to goodness, the cots are dry! And the crex mats in the tents!"
complained Nita.
"Humph! Feel of the mats!" laughed Zan, jumping up and down in her tent
to hear the water squash underneath the piece of matting.
"My bed's all dry!" shouted Jane joyously.
"So's mine!" came from Elena.
"I'm thankful to say that mine is dry, too!" said Miss Miller, prodding
the mattress.
"I put the rubber blanket over mine, so I know it's dry as bones!"
laughed Zan.
"That is what we all should have done, for the dampness will permeate
even if the tents are water-proof," said the Guide, spreading the
rubber over her cot.
The other girls followed Zan's idea and then came out to see what was
to be done about supper.
Just as they sat down on some rustic stools that had been made by the
Band during the past weeks, the sun shot forth a ray as if to say
good-night. The birds refused to come out and greet it, however, and
nature seemed too wet to rejoice at the tardy appearance of the sinking
orb of day.
"Let's build a roaring fire of our dry wood and sit about it telling
ghost stories!" suggested Jane, after supper.
So, it came to pass that at bedtime that night, five sought their cots
in a shivery frame of mind, due to gruesome stories, at which each
tried to outdo the other in relating.
It was quite dark and the wind, which had not shifted, was blowing
weirdly through the forest, ever and anon sending a dripping leaf, or
wet twig into the faces of the fearsome girls.
"I can't help thinking of that cheerful log we left burning in the
fire-place at the house," called Jane.
"And what a delightful walk it would be through the woods and over the
buckwheat field!" sneered Zan.
"So long, girls, I'm in bed!" came from Hilda's tent.
"Mark for you in the morning--slang!" quickly added Elena.
Miss Miller, although standing on a thoroughly soaked mat, listened to
the girls with a smile. She had raised a faint remonstrance when the
ghost stories had become nerve-quaking, but the girls laughed merrily
and begged to continue.
Just as she was ready to jump into bed a crack of thunder sounded
directly overhead and a vivid flash of lightning illuminated the woods.
Shrieks from the other tents did not tend to make matters more
comfortable, for it was inevitable that a shower was about to get them.
"Close the flaps and see that your tents are all well secured!" called
the Guide.
In a short time the wind tore along the clearing of the Bluff and tried
to rip up anything that was not rooted in the soil. The rain came down
in a deluge while thunder and lightning seemed to come simultaneously,
until the girls hid their heads under the bed-covers.
The water finally managed to trickle through the seams of the canvas
and soon little pools of water stood in the hollows formed by the sides
of the forms under the covers. Miss Miller had wisely inspected the
pegs and ropes that held her tent down taut, but the girls neglected
the advice given them a short time before. They took for granted that
all would be well with the tents.
Then, a lull in the storm gave the girls courage to call to each other,
"It's over, thank goodness! We're still dry!"
But they spoke too soon. A few minutes afterward a flash and peal of
thunder announced a second storm, still heavier than the first one.
A regular hurricane blew up the slope from the roadway and at every
gust the tents threatened to give up their hold and fly away with the
cyclone. The girls hurriedly jumped from their beds and held on to the
straining ropes.
"I know just how a ship-wrecked sailor feels when the shred of sail is
about to be torn away in the squall!" shouted Zan, so as to be heard
above the commotion the storm caused.
Although her canvas was safe, the Guide arose and hurriedly dressed in
case she would be needed at either of the other tents.
She was just about to light a candle when a horrifying yell, as from
one throat, came from Hilda's tent--or at least where the tent had
been. A terrific gale of wind had forced a way under the canvas and
lifted the tent clear off the ground and flung it against some trees.
The girls were left exposed to the elements and no partiality was shown
by the rain on account of meager clothing.
"Help! Girls, come and help us get the tent!" screamed Jane.
Miss Miller was about to open the flap of her tent when the wind blew
out the lighted taper. She leaned over to place it on the stand when
screams from Zan and the third tent announced some catastrophe. They
had hurriedly opened the tent-flaps and the wind, taking advantage of
the opportunity, blew in and at once filled the hollow canvas opening.
In another second both tents were blown over and down against the
ground.
All five girls flew to Miss Miller's remaining tent and clamoured for
admittance--the water pouring down their backs and their feet wet from
the soggy grass.
The Guide shouted for them to enter one at a time through the tiny
crevice she made in the opening of the tent. They crowded inside and
stood shivering and ready to weep at their predicament.
"What _shall_ we do?" cried Nita, who had never been exposed to such
rude behaviour of the wind or weather.
"We can run down to Sherwoods', but they won't have any beds! They only
have one room upstairs, you know," said Zan.
"You horrid thing, you talk as if this was a picnic!" whimpered Hilda.
"It is. After it is over you'll all sit and laugh at the figures
you're cutting now!" shouted Zan, grinning in a superior manner at her
companions.
Suddenly Miss Miller clasped her hands. "Thank goodness, we carried
the trunk of steamer rugs into my tent the other week when you needed
more room in your tents! I've got them right here and you girls can
drop those soaking gowns and wrap the blankets about you for warmth and
comfort."
The four extra thick blankets were taken from the trunk and one from
the Guide's bed, giving each girl one. Zan had held a match during the
time Miss Miller had to open the trunk, but it had burned down and gone
out again. In the thick darkness the girls took off their gowns and
wrapped the dry blankets about their forms.
The storm ceased as suddenly as it arose, so the Band debated the
possibility of reaching the farm house that night.
"I left that lovely fire!" said Nita, with a sigh.
"And it can't be more than nine o'clock!" added Hilda.
"I say, let's start! We can't be more uncomfortable than huddled here.
And we certainly can't sleep in one cot!" suggested Zan.
"Wait until I see if I can find the candle I had when the deluge came,"
said Miss Miller, groping about for the table.
"We'll need more than one light, Miss Miller," said Zan.
"I'll see if I can find the small stump I had last night," replied the
Guide, finding the matches and lighting one.
The candle was soon lit and the stump found, so all prepared to leave
the shelter of the small tent and seek the house.
Zan carried the new candle while Miss Miller fastened a hat-pin in the
bottom of the stump and carried that. The girls easily avoided bushes
and long wet grass in crossing over the Bluff, although their moccasins
soon squeaked with water.
"I wish I knew where the lantern was--it would be so much steadier a
light," ventured Zan, from the rear.
"I left it at the house the other day--I forgot to bring it back to
camp," admitted Elena.
"I wish we had made a law to make folks pay forfeits for forgetting!"
snapped Zan, impatiently.
"What's the matter with you to make you so cross? You're well rolled
up in that blanket and you've got the torch, too!" retorted Elena.
Zan bit her lip but said nothing. The truth of the matter was that
she felt guilty in driving Miss Miller out in the night with a rubber
blanket wrapped about her. Zan reasoned that all the trouble would have
been avoided if they had all paid attention to Miss Miller's advice in
the beginning and pitched their tents in good ground between the trees
as she did. Her tent stood any gale, while theirs--well, compare them!
"Oh, gracious me! There goes my blanket!" cried Nita, as the article
slipped from her back and fell in the grass.
Just as Zan stooped to hold the candle so Nita could see where to take
hold of the blanket, a puff of wind snuffed it completely out.
"Pshaw! Did you ever see the likes!" growled Zan.
"Here, light it at mine!" called Miss Miller.
Plodding along the narrow trail, now on one side in the wet grass, now
on the other where the bushes shook drops all over them, they finally
came to the maple grove.
"Thank goodness, we are thus far!" sighed the Guide.
"And the worst bit to cross or I'll miss my guess!" retorted Zan.
"Oh, no, we'll soon be through and over the wall of the buckwheat
field. There, we can skirt the edge of the wall until we come to your
lawn," added Jane.
"If you're not mired before you get to the field," said Zan, warningly.
"Why, what do you mean?" cried several voices.
"The Sap bush generally oozes water after a heavy, rain like to-day's.
If we feel water bubbling up about our feet we'd better come back here
and go around the grove," said Zan.
"We've had days of dry weather and the rain will have soaked in the
ground immediately, so I guess we are safe to cross," replied Miss
Miller, wearily.
Zan said nothing more but waited anxiously.
They managed to get over the snake fence safely and part way through
the grove when a strong wind blew the branches of the maples enough to
shake down a quantity of water from the leaves. As troubles never come
singly, the water fell upon both small flames and extinguished them,
leaving the Band in total darkness.
"Zan knows the way, so we'll follow her," suggested Jane.
"Don't blame me if we get stuck!" grumbled Zan, as she unwillingly took
the lead.
All went well for a short time and Zan began to congratulate the Band
upon their speedy arrival at the house. She was about to make a remark
of that kind to cheer them when one of her feet sunk down over five
inches in water. The bubbling about her foot warned her to pull out
quickly.
She did so and jumped back. But the girls behind had not heard the
water gurgle and had kept right on after Zan. By the sudden spring
backwards, Zan and the girl behind collided and both rolled down in the
sodden grass.
"Couldn't you look where you were going!" half-cried Elena, as she
tried to crawl upon her feet. One moccasin had dropped off and she
could not find it in the tall grass.
"I _was_ looking but it was so dark that the eyes I carry at the back
of my head could not see you!" chuckled Zan, to whom a spill more or
less in the wet woods meant nothing.
"I'll have my death of cold as it is, to say nothing of walking in bare
feet through this soaked grass!" complained Elena.
"Instead of grumbling you ought to be glad you won't get anything worse
than your death! Wet feet can't harm you if you've gone the limit,
anyway!" retorted Zan, irritatingly.
"I wish my mother knew of the way I am soaked!" Elena continued,
whining.
"Well, she won't, thank goodness! She'd use every speck of mustard in
our cupboard, and keep us up all night to heat water in which to roll
you and the mustard!" Zan replied.
"Are you two going to keep us here all night while you quarrel over
some one who isn't here, nor even expected?" asked Jane, peevishly.
Miss Miller had quietly chosen the way back, determined to go about the
grove if necessary, so she had not heard the altercation between Elena
and Zan.
By taking the round-about way to reach the house the weary and worn
Band did not cross the front lawn, but arrived at the back door. As
the doors were never locked they soon were indoors and before the
fire-place where Nita's log still blazed cheerily up the chimney.
"Girls, have any of you seen Wickee since he followed us to the woods
this afternoon?" said Zan, suddenly.
No one had, but all had heard the scratching at the front door.
"He wasn't at camp with us to-night, for he would have begged for
supper," added Nita.
Some of the girls ran to the front door and, opening it, displayed
Wickee on the door mat. He was perfectly dry and had been camping on
the porch in preference to returning through the cold wet woods when
his mistress went to camp that afternoon.
As Zan went out to the well to bring in a bucket of water, she called
to all of the others, "Oh, come here and see Lake Superior!"
When Miss Miller and the girls reached the porch a strange sight,
indeed, met their gaze. The torrents of rain that had fallen could not
seep into the ground quickly enough and had run down from the gardens
and grove, over the surface, until the lawn was reached. As the front
lawn had a decided depression in the centre a lake about an acre in
extent was the result.