The in the Woods Part 2 (1/2)
”People think they know a lot when they're only guessing, sometimes, Bessie. A man has a right to keep his business to himself if he wants to, as long as he doesn't do anything that's wrong. But why didn't Zara stay? If her father was cleared and came back, they couldn't keep her at the poor-farm or make her go to work for this Farmer Weeks you speak of.”
”I don't know. She was afraid, and so was I. They call her a gypsy because she's so dark. And people say she steals chickens. I know she doesn't, because once or twice when they said she'd done that, she'd been in the woods with me, walking about. And another time I saw a hawk swoop down and take one of Maw Hoover's hens, and she was always sure that Zara'd done that.”
Wanaka had watched Bessie very closely while she told her story. Bessie's clear, frank eyes that never fell, no matter how Wanaka stared into them, seemed to the older girl a sure sign that Bessie was telling the truth.
”It sounds as if you'd had a pretty hard time, and as if you hadn't had much chance,” she said, gravely. ”It's strange about your parents.”
Bessie's eyes filled with tears.
”Oh, something must have happened to them -- something dreadful,” she said. ”Or else I'm sure they would never have left me that way. And I don't believe what Maw Hoover was always saying -- that they were glad to get rid of me, and didn't care anything about me.”
”Neither do I,” said Wanaka. ”Bessie, I want to help you and Zara. And I think I can -- that we all can, we Camp Fire Girls. You know that's what we live for -- to help people, and to love them and serve them. You heard us singing the Wohelo cheer when we first saw you. Wohelo means work, and health, and love. You see, it's a word we made up by taking the first two letters of each of those words. I tell you what I'm going to do. You and Zara must stay with us here to-day. The girls will look after you. And I'm going into the village and while I'm there I'll see how things are.”
”You won't tell Maw Hoover where we are; or Farmer Weeks?” cried Bessie.
”I'll do the right thing, Bessie,” said Wanaka, smiling. ”you may be sure of that. I believe what you've told me -- I believe every word of it. But you'd rather have me find out from others, too, I'm sure. You see, it would be very wrong for us to help girls to run away from home. But neither you nor Zara have done that, if your story is right. And I think it is our duty to help you both, just as it is our pleasure.”
CHAPTER IV.
AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND.
Bessie wasn't afraid of what Wanaka would find out in Hedgeville. Wanaka wouldn't take Jake Hoover's word against hers, that much was sure. And she guessed that Wanaka would have her own ways of discovering the truth. So, as Wanaka changed from her bathing suit to a costume better suited to the trip to the village, Bessie went out with a light heart to find Zara. Already she thought that she saw the way clear before them. With friends, there was no reason why they should not reach the city and make their own way there, as plenty of other girls had done. And it seemed to Bessie that Wanaka meant to be a good friend.
”Oh, Bessie, have you been hearing all about the Camp Fire, too?” asked Zara, when she espied her friend. ”It's wonderful! They do all sorts of things. And Minnehaha is going to teach me to swim this afternoon. She'll teach you, too, if you like.”
But Bessie only smiled in answer. She could swim already, but she said nothing about it, since no one asked her, seeming to take it for granted that, like Zara, she was unused to the water. Moreover, while she could swim well enough, she was afraid that she would look clumsy and awkward in comparison to the Camp Fire Girls. Most of them had changed their clothes now, before dinner.
Some wore short skirts and white blouses; one or two were in a costume that Bessie recognized at once as that of Indian maidens, from the pictures she had seen in the books she had managed to get at the Hoover farmhouse. She noticed, too, that many of them now wore strings of beads, and that all wore rings. Two or three of the girls, too, wore bracelets, strangely marked, and all had curious badges on their right sleeves.
”We've got to wash the dishes, now,” said Minnehaha, who bore out her name by laughing and smiling most of the time. She had already told Zara that her real name was Margery Burton. ”You sit down and rest, and when we've done, we'll talk to you and tell you more about the Camp Fire Girls and all the things we do.”
”No, indeed,” said Bessie, laughing back. ”That won't do at all. You cooked our meal; now we'll certainly help to clean up. That's something I can do, and I'm going to help.”
Zara, too, insisted on doing her share, and the time pa.s.sed quickly as the girls worked. Then, when the things were cleaned and put away, and some preparations had been made for the evening meal, Zara begged to have her first swimming lesson at once.
”No, we'll have to wait a little while for that,” said Minnehaha. ”We must wait until Wanaka comes back. She's our Guardian, you see, and it's a rule that we mustn't go into the water unless she's here, no matter how well we swim, unless, of course, we have to, to help someone who is drowning. And it's too soon after dinner, too. It's bad for you to go into the water less than two hours after a meal. We're always careful about that, because we have to be healthy. That's one of the chief reasons we have the Camp Fire.”
”Tell us about it,” begged Zara, sitting down.
”You see this ring?” said Minnehaha, proudly.
She pointed to her ring, a silver band with an emblem, -- seven f.a.gots.
”We get a ring like that when we join,” she explained. ”That's the Wood-Gatherer's ring, and the National Council gives it to us. Those seven f.a.gots each stand for one of the seven points of the law of the fire.”
”What are they, Minnehaha?”
”They're easy to remember: 'Seek Beauty; Give Service; Pursue Knowledge; Be Trustworthy; Hold on to Health; Glorify Work; Be Happy.' If you want to do all those things -- and I guess everyone does -- you can be a Wood-Gatherer. Then, later on, you get to be a Fire-Maker, and, after that, a Torch-Bearer. And when you get older, if you do well, you can be a Guardian, and be in charge of a Camp Fire yourself. You see, there are Camp Fires all over. There are a lot of them in our city, and in every city. And there are more and more all the time. The movement hasn't been going on very long, but it's getting stronger all the time.”
”Are you a Fire-Maker?”
”Not yet. If I were, I'd wear a bracelet, like Ayu. And instead of just having a bunch of f.a.gots on my sleeve, there'd be a flame coming from them. And then, when I get to be a Torch-Bearer, I'll have a pin, as well as the ring and the bracelet, and there'll be smoke on my badge, as well as fire and wood. But you have to work hard before you can stop being a Wood-Gatherer and get to the higher ranks. We all have to work all the time, you see.”
”I've had to work, too,” said Bessie. ”But this seems different because you enjoy your work.”
”That's because we like to work. We work because we want to do it, not because someone makes us.”
”Yes, I was thinking of that. I always worked because I had to -- Maw Hoover made me.”
”Who's Maw Hoover, Bessie?”
So Bessie told her story, or most of it, all over again, and the other girls, seeing that she was telling a story, crowded around and listened.
”I think it's a shame you were treated so badly,” said Minnehaha. ”But don't you worry -- Miss Eleanor will know what to do. She won't let them treat you unfairly. Is she going to find out about things in the village?”
”Yes.”
”Well, you needn't worry any more, then. Why, one of the first things she did in the city, when she started this Camp Fire, was to get us all to work to get better milk for the babies in the poor parts, where the tenement houses are. We all helped, but she did most of it. And now all the milk is good and pure, and the babies don't die any more in the hot weather in summer.”
”That's fine. I'd like to be a Camp Fire Girl.”
”Why shouldn't you be one, then?”
”But -- ”
Bessie hesitated.
After all, why not? Maw Hoover would never have let her do anything like that -- but Maw Hoover couldn't stop her from doing anything she liked now. Wanaka had told her what Zara had always said, that Maw Hoover couldn't make her stay, couldn't make her keep on working hard every day for nothing but her board. She had read about girls who had gone to the city and earned money, lots of money, without working any harder than she had always done. Perhaps she could do that, too.
”You talk to Wanaka about that when she comes back,” said Minnehaha, who guessed what Bessie was thinking. ”You see her. She'll explain it to you. And you're going to be happy, Bessie. I'm sure of that. When people do right, and still aren't happy for a while, it's always made up to them some way. And usually when they do wrong they have to pay for it, some way or another. That's one of the things we learn in the Camp Fire.”
”Here comes Wanaka now,” said one of the other girls. ”There's someone with her.”
Bessie looked frightened.
”I don't want anyone from Hedgeville to see me,” she said. ”Do you suppose they're coming here?”
”Wanaka will come first. See, she's staying on the other side of the lake. It's a man. He's carrying her things. I'll paddle over for her in a canoe. I don't think the man will come with her, but you and Zara go into the tent there. Then you'll be all right. No one would ever think of your being here, or asking any questions.”
But Bessie watched anxiously. She couldn't make out the face of the man with Wanaka, as she peered from the door of the tent, but if he was from Hedgeville he would know her. Everyone knew the girl at Hoovers', whose father and mother had deserted her. Bessie had long been one of the most interesting people in town to the farmers and the villagers, who had little to distract or amuse them.
”Stay quiet, Bessie,” warned Minnehaha, as she stepped into the canoe. ”You'll be all right if you're not seen. I'll bring Wanaka back right away.”
With swift, sure strokes, Minnehaha sent the canoe skimming over the water. The other girls were busy in various ways. Some were in the tents, changing their clothes for bathing suits; some had gone into the woods to get fresh water from a spring. For the moment no one was in sight. And suddenly, out of a clear sky, as it seemed, disaster threatened. Clouds had been gathering for some time but the sun was still out, and there seemed no reason to fear any storm.