from our fish-drying work would have attracted the lobsters long ago,
wouldn’t you?” ventured Billy.
“They’re queer critters, all right,” admitted Captain Ed.
“I guess it will be clear for the bear-spearing to-morrow, after all,”
Paul said, looking at the blue sky.
“I’ll finish my last iron spear-head to-night and be all ready for it,”
added Fred.
Supper over that evening, Fred worked on the spear-head while the
other boys tried various ways of tying knots. As the Captain was a
master-hand at that craft, he was appealed to and when the boys had
been taught to tie some sailor-knots he showed them several trick knots
which caused great interest. Then, Mrs. Remington showed them how to do
the string trick called “Throwing the Fish Spear.”
The following day was clear and sunny and the usual attendance at
Council was counted upon by the Islanders. But they were in for a
surprise.
When the guests began to arrive, a number of strange launches were
seen in the wake of the Orion. It was then learned that neighbouring
cottagers of Aunt Edith’s had heard of the fun and entertainment
provided at a Woodcraft Council and had begged permission to be invited
to the next one held on Sunset Island.
A hearty welcome was extended the visitors and the Council opened.
When the tally of the last Council was read the guests laughed at the
account of the poetry contest. Then came the call for report of scouts.
Billy saluted. “Oh Chief! I have to report that being desirous of
obtaining a photograph of a young fish-hawk, or osprey, in a nest on
Spruce Island, I climbed the tree carrying Paul’s kodak on my back. I
found the young osprey dead, hanging dismembered upon a branch below
the nest. I could not determine whether this was due to an accident or
not. Evidently the bird had been dead some time. I found the tails of
seven flounders in and about the nest, also the remnants of other fish.”
“I also found a piece of bamboo netting woven into the nest. I managed
to climb above and snap a photograph of the nest and dead bird but I
regret to say that it was a failure. The film was returned with nothing
but blurs on it, so I think I made a mistake in focussing properly.”
A discussion ensued over the possible cause of the death of the osprey
and the suggestion of accident was decided to be the plausible one.
Uncle Tom made a report on the presence of porcupines in his
apple-orchard and asked the help of some brave hunter to help
exterminate them. Billy instantly volunteered and was accepted,
providing he came alone. Mr. Charlton knew that Billy was perfectly
trustworthy with firearms, but accidents can easily happen when a
number of boys are taken along.
“Oh Chief! I have an offer to lay before the parents and guardians
here present. I will train the boys in target-shooting and offer a
prize to that one who excels at a given time,” now added Uncle Tom.
“How, How!” echoed around the Council Ring at this news.
The vote was unanimous on the part of the younger faction so Fred put
it to a motion.
“Oh Chief! I move that a committee be formed of parents to deliberate
over this plan,” said Mrs. Remington.
“Second the motion!” added Mrs. Farwell.
On the final vote the motion was carried that the mothers form a
committee to report later--not necessarily to the Council but to Uncle
Tom or Fred.
The time devoted to the granting of honours now arrived and Elizabeth
sprang to her feet.
“Oh Chief! I have a claim to present in behalf of another.”
“Present the claim,” said Wita-tonkan with dignity.
“In behalf of Wita-tonkan of the Black Bear Tribe, I, Pah-hlee-oh of
the Apamwamis Tribe, claim low honour for constructing a bear, for the
Bear Spearing Game according to the standards in the Book of Woodcraft,
edition of 1915,” stated Elizabeth.
“Witnessed by Edward Blake, Dudley West, and William Remington,”
concluded she, proudly looking at her brother Fred.
This was indeed a surprise to Fred as he really had forgotten that
his recent work on the bear constituted and counted for a _coup_.
Nevertheless, he announced as usual,
“You have heard this claim: it is properly witnessed and moreover will
soon be demonstrated at this Council--what is your pleasure?”
The decision was unanimous for granting the _coup_ and the visitors’
attention was drawn to the burlap bear swinging between the trees just
beyond the Council Ring.
Then the Chief announced: “Friends and members of the Pentagoet Tribe,
you may not know that Shingebis and I are old Woodcraft Indians of the
Honourable Tribe of Black Bear. To-day we wish to appear as Black Bears
in our allegiance and introduce some of the customs of our Tribe. One
of these is the challenging for scalps.
“Each Black Bear wears a black scalp-lock when he is in Council. Here
is mine,” and Wita-tonkan held aloft a long strand of black horsehair
with a loop of thong attached.
“This represents our life! When we challenge for scalps we stake our
life. If we lose we have to remain dead until the Tribe votes us alive
again.”
Advancing to the Council Fire Wita-tonkan, in the name of Shingebis and
himself challenged the Pentagoet Tribe or any visitors present, to a
Bear Spearing Contest for scalps!
Paul jumped up and cried, “We accept!”
And a chorus of “Hows!” showed that every one present was brave and
daring.
“Oh Chief! How can we pay up if we have no hirsute adornments similar
to the Black Bear scalps?” asked Uncle Bill.
“Every one who enters this contest must agree to forfeit a scalp like
this or similar. _They can be procured!_” sternly answered Wita-tonkan.
A babel of voices then arose and finally it appeared that Wita-tonkan
and Shingebis had twenty opponents arrayed against them in the contest.
“Gee! If the Black Bears win we won’t be able to see them--they will be
so covered with scalps,” cried Dudley.
“Oh Chief! that reminds me! What happens should the two Black Bears
lose? How can two scalps be divided among so many Pentagoets?” inquired
Uncle Tom.
“Why, we each get a lock of hair from their two heads!” laughed Uncle
Bill.
“I should say not! We each have one life to lose and we give what we
have, one life apiece,” retorted the Chief.
“Then, _who_ will get your two scalps?” persisted Uncle Tom.
“No one--the Black Bears will get _yours_!” boasted Fred.
Every one laughed at that but the Chief added seriously: “Our two
scalps, _should_ we lose, will become the possession of the two Braves
opposing, who make the highest scores of individual hits out of the
five shots allowed each contestant.”
That was plain and just so they all filed over to the burlap bear.
What a fight that was! The children and inexperienced spearsmen were
soon cleared off of the field of action. Paul made a hit but it counted
for little as it was not near the red-painted heart of the bear. Dudley
scored in the same manner. Elizabeth hit the bear twice but alas! only
one spear stuck in so she only scored once. Then they all shouted for a
Black Bear. Shingebis stepped forward to try his skill.
The bear was swung erratically but impartially by Captains Ed and
Benton. Billy chose his time well and took careful aim. Two of his
spears dangled from the bear’s body, one in the very rim of the heart’s
circle thus counting ten for his score and the other counting five,
making a total of fifteen for his side.
“How! How!” shouted a chorus of voices.
“For the Honour of the Black Bears!” said Billy solemnly.
“Now, watch your Uncle Bill!” cried that worthy, and kerplunk went a
spear! It struck the ground below the clumsy beast.
Every one yelled but Uncle Bill had four more trials. In these he
netted his side fifteen, which with the three hits of Elizabeth, Paul
and Dudley, totalled the Pentagoets eighteen against fifteen of the
Black Bears.
Uncle Tom now tried and amid great excitement made a hit near the
heart-circle, counting five.
“Hurrah!” shouted Paul, dancing wildly about.
“Twenty-three for our side!” yelled Dudley, throwing a rock out to sea
in order to give vent to his pent-up frenzy.
“Beat it, Wita-tonkan--for the Honour of the Black Bears,” urged Billy,
anxiously.
“Never fear!” spoke the Island Chief with confidence. “Have I speared
the Bear at Wyndy-goul and at Lake Peequo for naught?”
And his boast proved good!
The three hits made by Wita-tonkan raised the Black Bear score, first
to sixteen, then to twenty-one and finally to thirty-one.
“Scalp! scalp! Let’s dance the scalp-dance!” screamed Billy shrilly,
with overwrought nerves.
“How! How!” came from the others as they participated.
“Now pay up your scalps!” ordered Fred.
“But, this is a serious matter. Here! All you Pentagoets and
visitors--don’t you know we’re all dead ones!” cried Uncle Bill in a
sepulchral tone.
Thereupon, without further warning, he fell to the ground, dragging
Edith, Miriam and Paul down with him in the death-struggle.
The other losers of scalps failed to realise their demise in such a
dramatic manner, and contented themselves with laughing heartily at
Uncle Bill and his three wriggling understudies.
“Where can we procure scalps?” asked Aunt Edith.
“Why, at any harness store. Get the horsehair dingle-dangles that we
use as a substitute for the Black Bear brand,” replied Elizabeth,
laughingly.
“I’m going to get a bright red one to show my heart’s blood!” exclaimed
Paul.
“Then you’d better get another to use after the tribe votes you alive
again,” advised Billy.
“All right, then I’ll get a blue one for that.”
As there were so many dead Indians about, the Council of the living
reconvened and voted the dead hunters alive again. Bill was sent out to
bring them in, and then the Council closed by singing the Zuni Sunset
song.
Every one stood in a semi-circle facing the red glow beyond the western
mountains, the light fading perceptibly as they sang.
From the launches that bore away the visitors, the good-byes floated
back to the group on shore. And loud and long was the chorus that came
from Trixie and the Islanders on the float-stage, for the girl had been
invited to remain and visit Elizabeth for a few days, and the young
people were all delighted to have her with them.
The weather was very unsettled for the next few days, but that did not
interfere with Trixie’s enjoyment. She sailed with Fred, fished with
the others, and entered into all of the Island sports with an energy
that quite won the admiration of the boys.
“Say, Trix, are you going to wear that checked skirt again to-day? I
bet that’s what hoodoos the weather!” said Bill, one morning, seeing
that the sun failed to shine.
“Yes, I am!”
“Then, we’ll postpone our walk on Isleboro, for every time you wear
that skirt it rains,” continued Fred, teasingly.
“How ridiculous!”
“Nothing of the kind! If you just try another skirt for our sakes, I
bet the sun will shine!” asserted Dudley, who saw the look exchanged
between Fred and Bill.
“Well, I don’t believe in signs and hoodoos but to please you boys I
will wear my short corduroy skirt--and it’s better anyway for walking
through the woods,” admitted Trixie.
The boys knew it would be a fine day, and the mist that hid the sun
would soon be dispelled, so they chuckled to themselves that Trixie
would believe it was her change of skirt.
The walk on Islesboro was for the purpose of completing the tree and
flower _coups_ of the Pentagoet Tribe and incidentally the sail over to
Crow Cove would be enjoyable and add mileage to Fred’s sailing.
“How many miles have you made now, Fred?” asked Paul.
“Just one hundred and one miles.”
“Oh, he’ll do it all right,” said Dudley.
“I intend to,” added Fred, quietly.
“Let’s sail over to the old ‘wrack,’” laughed Billy, in imitation of
Maine sailors.
“Maybe there will be enough water under her stern so’s we can sail
close under and climb aboard if you want to,” suggested Fred.
This met with approval for every one wanted a good chance to see what a
“dead-eye” was and this was an old-timer; though everything removable
had long since been taken, the rows of “dead-eyes” stuck up along her
sides empty for years of the shrouds they formerly secured.
“What queer names things on boats have,” commented Trixie.
“You will admit that dead-eyes are appropriate in their connection with
shrouds,” laughed Elizabeth.
“I never thought of that,” chuckled Billy.
“And why is that rope you are holding called a ‘sheet’?” wondered
Trixie.
“Because it is fastened to a corner of a sail,” replied Fred. “Sheet
came from the old word meaning something that stuck out, or shot out.
Shoot and shot are related words, you know. And as corners stick out a
corner of the sail was first called a sheet-line and then the name was
applied to the line itself leading from the corner.”
“Well! Where did you find all that out?” said his sister, surprised.
“In the encyclopedia; you see, I too thought the name a queer one so I
looked it up.”
“Maybe sheets for a bed were called that because they had corners,”
ventured Paul.
“Yes, the book thinks so,” returned Fred. “And the big anchor that was
depended upon for safety was called a ‘sheet-anchor’--not because it
had corners but because it was shot out into the water. The whole word
means a mixup of things but all we need remember is that the sheet here
is the line and not the sail.”
“I brought my camera to take a picture of the wreck,” said Paul, as
they saw the vessel.
“Wait until I get on her and then take me too, will you, Paul?” asked
Billy, eagerly.
“Of course he will, Billy, and we will name it ‘The Two Wrecks,’”
laughed Dudley.
When the mariners were once more sailing the seas, Paul remarked, “I
wonder if Trix knows the sun is shining!”
“Why, so it is!” cried the girl.
“See there! We told you that checked skirt was the hoodoo,” teased Fred.
“Don’t tell me you believe it would have rained had I worn it?” scoffed
Trixie.
“Why not? It brought rain every other day!” laughed Billy.
“Pooh! Elizabeth told me that to-day promised fair, so I know you were
only trying to tease me.”
The walk through the woods was enjoyed by all and the boys were
delighted to find that they could add enough trees to their lists to
make the twenty-five required for a _coup_. With beech, mountain-ash,
aspen-poplar, white-cedar, and three kinds of birches and moose-leaf
maple to add to the fir, spruce, and pine found on Sunset Island they
were able to finish their collection begun with chestnut, catalpa, and
various oaks, found in more southerly latitudes.
That evening, as Fred read aloud the list of trees for a Grand _Coup_,
Elizabeth, the poetess, turned them into rhyme. Trixie watched her
scribble and when through, took it and read it aloud to the circle in
the living-room.
THE GRAND COUP FOR TREES
I want to know the trees that grow, they’re interesting, you see;
Besides, a woodcraft honour high it may bring now to me.
Don’t blame the dog-wood for this verse, though doggerel it be,
Its flowers are much more beautiful than any lines from me.
I’d like to tell you all about the trees both great and small;
’Twould keep me very busy to even name them all!
The pine tree--that fine tree! the elms and the oaks,
Make wood enough and good enough for any sort of folks.
The beech tree, the peach tree together on the strand;
The pretty girls the “peaches” love the “beaches’” shining sand.
The palm tree, the balm tree, the bamboo, the teak;
And others from the Orient if we go there to seek.
The orange tree, whose blossoms be much loved on wedding days;
The lemon and the grape-fruit, too, are kin in many ways.
The apple and the apricot, the plum tree and the pear;
The fruits of these are sure to please somebody, anywhere.
The cedar and the hemlock, the fir and pine and spruce,
Are members of one family with wood for any use.
The cotton-wood, the willow for canoes and Indian beds;
The aspen and the poplar that rustles o’er our heads,
The hickory, the walnut, the pecan, now are all
Nut bearers in the autumn to feed us in the fall.
Mulberry trees, wild cherry trees; the mango and the date;
The last you see must be the tree that keeps some men out late.
The sycamores--yes by the scores they line the river’s brim.
We know these trees afar, with ease, by mottled bark and limb.
Persimmon and the chinquapin sound good and nice and sweet;
We one and all late in the fall enjoy their fruits to eat.
The china berry is a very charming, flowering tree.
It grows down south, in spite of drought--up north it cannot be.
The pendant locust blooms look good; the tree is fine for shade;
For posts that last ’tis better wood than any other made.
The butternut, the chip-munks’ friend, the wood is soft and dark;
We know it by its frond-like leaves as well as by its bark.
The maple is a staple tree, its syrup very sweet
Its wood is good for floors you see; in its shade we like to meet.
The hazel bush might raise a blush if called a tree, ’tis true;
(The rhyme is fierce but in a rush we stop at nought--do you?)
The chestnut is the best nut, its wood is very good;
’Tis easy to split and easy cut; the nuts are good for food.
The basswood’s wood is fine for trunks, when bound with duck
or leather.
Saw up tree trunks in boards, not chunks, and fasten them together.
The elder and the alder much delight in swamps to grow.
The cedar also likes the touch of water at its toe.
The sweet gum and the cypress are in Dixie’s forests found.
Live oaks their mossy beards hang far to canebreaks on the ground.
The evergreen and long-leafed pine lift high their spreading arms;
Spring now endows their plumey spines with new and pleasing charms.
In May old dark green needles show a bushy background there--
While new light shoots upstanding, grow like Christmas candles’ flare.
Of beauty out-of-doors in Spring, of trees like these, and more,
Of flowers and birds that mate and sing, old Earth has still full
store.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WITA-TONKAN LEFT IN CHARGE
At breakfast, Sunday morning, Mrs. Remington announced a startling
piece of news.
“Friends, children, and Sagamore-in-the-making! I have to surprise you!
Aunt Edith and I are going to Boston on a visit. While I am away you
girls are to stay with Aunt Flo-Flo at Rosemary. Anna and Teddy are
going to Isola Bella, and you boys are to remain with Fred in charge of
the Island. How do you like the plan?”
A mixed chorus arose: “Oh, don’t go!” and “Fine! fine!” “We’ll be
good!” and “How long will you stay?”
Mrs. Remington laughed but waited to hear from Fred. He rose and
keeping an eagle eye on his future vassals, proclaimed: “Order shall
be kept, or I, Wita-tonkan, will perish in the attempt! Wough! a Black
Bear has spoken!”
“When you are in charge, you can really earn your title of ‘Island
Chief,’ Fred,” remarked Elizabeth.
“When are we going to Mrs. Charlton’s?” asked Trixie.
“I suppose you girls can wait and see me off. You can pack your
suit-cases for a week or ten days and the Captain can set you ashore
at the Rosemary landing after leaving me at the steamer wharf. We are
going by the Boston boat you know--it is much cooler.”
What a bustle there was during the two days that ensued.
On Monday, Aunt Flo-Flo and Mrs. Charlton came in the Orion to visit
the Islanders.
“I thought it best to come over and take an inventory of my ready-made
family,” laughed Aunt Flo-Flo.
“Oh, we’ll be good as saints if you’ll only take us on enough
motor-trips to last a month!” exclaimed Elizabeth.
“Maybe the boys would like to sail over for a day’s trip, too,”
suggested Aunt Edith, but the boys had disappeared from the porch. Fred
had given them the high sign for a pow-wow to be held in his tee-pee
immediately!
That evening the girls begged to be told what was the cause of the
serious and animated pow-wow. Portentous looks were all the answer
returned while Mrs. Remington remained in the room.
“Say, who wants to walk to the south end of the island and watch the
tide come in in the moonlight?” asked Fred, when it was found that his
mother expected to remain in the room.
Every one declared they wanted to see such a sight, and soon the room
was vacated and quiet--Mrs. Remington being occupied with her written
orders for Mose during her absence.
Once down upon the little beach, Fred announced that he and the others
planned to do lots of things that his mother wanted done. Such as
blasting out a big rock in the middle of Treasure Cove, raising a big
new flag-pole, and making a pebble walk around the little log-cabin
which was Mrs. Remington’s sanctuary when she was driven to retirement
from the “madding crowd.”
“She will love that!” exclaimed Elizabeth.
“Oh we intend doing lots of other things, too,” bragged Billy.
“We’re going to cook our own meals over a camp-fire!” declared Dudley.
“That’s to save Mose the work while you girls are away!” added Paul.
“Listen to him! Why, you boys eat twice as much as all of the Islanders
together!” scorned Edith.
“Besides, I don’t believe you younger boys can cook a thing!” came from
Elizabeth, doubtfully.
“I wouldn’t want to eat the stuff you cook!” said Trixie.
“Fred and Bill know a lot about camp-cooking and they are going to show
Paul and me,” admitted Dudley.
The idea of having the boys do something to surprise and please
Mrs. Remington upon her return, made Trixie and her girls wish to do
something for Mrs. Charlton. So a conference was held in Elizabeth’s
room to which Anna was invited.
“What _do_ you s’pose Aunt Edith would like most?” asked Elizabeth
after all were seated.
“I know!” cried practical little Edith.
“What?”
“Her flower beds weeded and all that wild grass dug out of the paths.”
“Oh!” was the disappointed reception of the commonplace proposition.
“I can wear old gloves, you know,” ventured Trixie.
Her hearers laughed as Trixie’s nails still showed the result of the
earnest efforts of a city polish, of which she was quite proud.
“Well, we may consider Edith’s plan as a side-work,” grudged Elizabeth,
when no other inspiration seemed on tap.
Mrs. Remington was not permitted to forget her promise to take
everybody on the Medric for a last farewell to her at the Camp Grounds
where the Boston boat stopped for passengers. Whether it was the
farewell, the sail, or the fun on the mainland that was the inducement,
she wisely refrained from questioning.
“What if it rains!” wondered Edith.
“Oh, we can wear clothes that won’t be damaged by a drop of rain,” said
Elizabeth.
“Trixie can wear her checked skirt if it’s rain you want,” plagued
Billy.
“Now then, I’ll wear it just for spite!” retorted Trixie. “I’ll prove
to you by the sunshine that the checks are not a rain jinx!”
Tuesday dawned clear and sunny, therefore proving Trixie’s statement to
be true. The merry party set out directly after lunch as Mrs. Remington
remarked that the Boston boat was very early at odd times--especially
so, if one happened to be a little late.
The Medric’s engine helped her “buck” the tide while Bill remarked, “We
sure have got a favourable puff!”
It was almost low water when they reached the wharf and the Medric had
to be anchored off the landing while her passengers were set ashore in
the tender.
The moment feet were on _terra firma_, the owners started for the post
office and general store where candy and cake were sold; but, on the
way a tin-typer’s caravan was found resting by the side of the main
road from the wharf, and the diversion was invaded and well patronised
that day.
The meagre delights of the Camp Ground were soon exhausted and time
hung heavily upon the hands of the active Islanders. Then Mrs.
Remington announced that the Boston steamer would be an hour late that
day.
“Oh, why did we leave our happy home?” wailed Billy.
“Think of all the fun we are missing!” added Paul.
“There are certain joys in a lingering farewell but I say that some of
them are drawn out much too long!” remarked Fred.
“How! how!” laughed the other boys, and Mrs. Remington joined even at
the expense of her own feelings.
“The question still remains before us--what to do with this extra hour
the gods bestowed?” mourned Elizabeth, who had had visions of Rosemary
in the sunset glow.
“I’ll run over and ask that jitney man who is watching us as if we were
outlaws,” said Fred, starting off across the road.
The man was very communicative for he had nothing else to do at the
time.
“Thar’s a merry-go-round back over that hill--it was runnin’ all
mornin’ an’ I guess it’s thar still.”
“Just the thing!” replied Fred, thanking him.