Part 6 (2/2)

”No, it isn't,” said Chapa, ”the rest went through it. Come on, you'll be all right.” Stuffing her stockings into her shoes, she threw them to the farther bank, and then stepping into the swift little stream she waded across calmly. Gladys hesitated for several minutes before she could make up her mind to put her feet in the water, but finally, encouraged by Chapa, she stepped gingerly in. ”Be careful of the rocks, they're slippery,” warned Chapa, but the warning was hardly out of her mouth when Gladys slipped on one of the smooth stones and sat down with a mighty splash. Chapa flew to the rescue and pulled her out on the bank.

”What will I do?” wailed Gladys, ”I can't go on with these wet bloomers.”

”Wear my bathing suit,” suggested Chapa, untying it from around her waist where she had been wearing it as a sort of sash, with all her impedimenta stuck into the folds. So Gladys changed to the bathing suit, and Chapa fixed the wet bloomers on a stick which they could carry between them, so they would be dry by the time they reached the night's encampment.

”We ought to be pretty near the end of our journey,” said Nyoda to Medmangi, at about half-past four in the afternoon. ”Have you caught sight of Balsam Lake yet?”

Medmangi shook her head. ”The woods are too thick to see anything through,” she answered. ”Let's call,” said Nyoda.

Together they raised their hands to their mouths and sent out the long, yodling call of the Camp Fire Girls, and then stood silent, listening. Before the echoes had ceased coming out of the woods the call was answered from somewhere beyond the trees. ”We're nearly there!” said Nyoda, and they quickened their pace as they went through the last strip of woods. Soon they heard voices and saw figures moving about in the distance, and presently they came upon the rest of the girls on the sh.o.r.e of the tiny lake. Some of the girls were lying at full length on the soft ground; others were preparing supper. Hinpoha was chopping wood with her hatchet; Sahwah was shaving chocolate with hers. The fire was built close to the water's edge and the firelight shone out redly across the water.

Migwan set a can of beans in the embers to warm, then she sat down on the beach to enjoy the view. The late afternoon sun was pouring its full glory on the lake, making its surface one dazzling sheet of light. Migwan shaded her eyes with her hand, and drank in the splendor of the scene with all her beauty-loving soul. ”Now I know how Scott felt when he wrote:

”One burnished sheet of living gold, Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled,”'

mused Migwan, and fell to dreaming dreams as golden as the setting sun.

Around the fire the tongues were wagging merrily. ”We met a man with a wagon and he said, 'Jump in,' and we said, 'No, thank you,' and he said, 'Well, don't, then, ding it.'--”

”We ate our lunch beside a brook and Migwan dropped her sandwiches in and had bread soup--”

”We met a bull and Hinpoha climbed the fence into a field and there were two bulls in that field--”

”Nyoda sat down in a potato patch to tie her shoe and the farmer came out and yelled--”

BANG! There was a terrific explosion that scattered the firebrands among the girls and showered them with ashes and fragments of potatoes. They sprang to their feet, extinguis.h.i.+ng the fires that started in various places, and asking what had happened. Nyoda's glance happened to fall on Hinpoha, who had sat nearest the fire. The whole front of her middy was plastered with--_beans!_

On the ground by the fire lay the flattened remains of a tin can.

Migwan had put the beans to heat without opening the can. Shrieks of laughter arose when the truth dawned on the girls and it was many a day before they left off teasing Migwan about it. The fire was built up again, bacon ”frizzled,” and toast and cocoa made. ”And my mouth was just watering for baked potatoes,”

wailed Hinpoha.

”And mine for baked beans,” echoed Sahwah.

”You shouldn't eat potatoes if you want to get thin,” said Migwan.

”Shouldn't I, Nyoda?” asked Hinpoha, appealing to her guardian.

Nyoda pursed up her lips and recited with a judicial air:

”If you would slimmer grow, my daughter, Eat no starches, drink no water.”

Sahwah then took up the tale:

”Look not on the candy sweet, Fall not for the fat of meat.”

Thus it went round the circle, each girl pointing her finger at Hinpoha and reciting a couplet:

”If your fat you'd wear away, Exercise ten hours a day,”

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