Part 19 (1/2)
A ripple of excitement ran through the girls as they saw, far in the distance, the big river steamer approaching. ”Shall we land until it has pa.s.sed?” called Sahwah.
”We can't land here,” answered Nyoda, ”the banks are nothing but mud and slime. Come in as close to sh.o.r.e as possible, and keep paddling so the waves from the steamer won't swamp you.” The big pa.s.senger boat nearly filled the river from bank to bank, but she came very slowly and the waves she made did not amount to much after all. The people on board ran to the rail with their cameras to snapshot the three canoes full of girls--a birchbark canoe ahead bearing the huntress with her rifle; a big green canoe next packed with ponchos and supplies, followed by a canoe with sails, at the top of which floated the Winnebago banner.
Sahwah saluted with her paddle as she pa.s.sed; the other girls waved their handkerchiefs in friendly greeting.
Farther up the river there were rapids and the paddling became strenuous indeed. The sails had to come down from the sailing canoe, and the crew, who had been having an easy time, of it, had to bend to their paddles with all their might. Going through a rapid requires short, hard strokes in swift succession, to make any headway at all, and more than once a canoe was whirled around in the rus.h.i.+ng water and hurled back downstream. Sahwah was having a great time. She pretended that she was in the rapids of the Niagara, paddling for her life, and put forth such strenuous efforts that she soon left the others behind.
The girls were so tired by the time they reached calm waters again that Nyoda ordered them to land on a low green bank and rest for an hour. They built a fire and cooked their dinner and then stretched themselves in the shade of a large oak tree for a nap. As far as the eye could see on every side there was no trace of a human being; no house, no boat, no cultivated land.
It was as though they had stepped back a hundred years and were in the midst of the primeval forest of song and story. Migwan lay on her back in lazy contentment, watching the suns.h.i.+ne filter through the leaves. Idly she drew out her pencil and began scribbling words in her notebook:
”Underneath this spreading tree, Let us rest luxuriously; And caressed by breezes mild, And with song of birds beguiled, Interweave our bright day dream With a tale of wondrous theme.”
”Up, up, comrades,” cried Nyoda, rising and returning to her canoe. All through the lovely golden afternoon they paddled steadily upstream, and just about sunset landed on a low green meadow that ran down to the water's edge. Behind the tiny plain the woods grew high and dark. Sahwah, watching the other girls picking out their sleeping sites for the night, had an inspiration.
”May I sleep out in the _Keewaydin_ to-night?” she asked Nyoda.
”Why, yes,” said Nyoda, ”if you will tie it securely to a tree.
The current is pretty strong.” They lingered long around the camp fire that night, telling stories and watching the moon rise over the treetops. None of them had ever experienced that feeling of being so absolutely by themselves. Quiet and unmolested as Camp Winnebago was, it seemed the center of civilization compared to this. Migwan, who was in a poetical mood, made up a new Camp Fire song and taught it to the girls:
”Lofty pine tree, old and grim, With the horned moon hooked round the topmost limb, And the owl awatch on the branch below, What is the song of the winds that blow Through your boughs so mysteriously?
They sing a song of the wide green world, Of the leaves in the merry breezes whirled, And rustle and murmur and moan and sigh Of the storm that darkened the sunny sky, And the s.h.i.+p that was lost at sea.
Lofty pine tree, lone and grim, With the moon peering over the topmost limb, And the owl asleep on the branch below, What is the song of the winds that blow Through your twigs so caressingly?”
Before rolling into their beds they all went for a moonlight swim in the river, which each girl declared to be the most wonderful experience of her life. No outdoor bed is quite so comfortable as a gra.s.sy meadow and the Winnebagos settled themselves with sighs of contentment. In her letter to her mother, Migwan wrote:
”I have never seen such cloud pictures as I saw that night. Once it looked as if a black-robed priest were holding the moon before him like a basin, while a polar bear stood upright beside him, his paws resting on a carved pillar. Once it seemed as if the moon were about to enter a vast cavern, at the door of which stood the figure of a youth with hands outstretched in welcome.
The moon paused before the door but did not enter. The youth slid to the ground and crouched with head on knee in an att.i.tude of despair. A gigantic figure stood out in the light. Before him danced a circle of elves. The figure in the doorway leaned back and slept. Watching this strange panorama, I fell asleep.”
Nyoda awoke before sunrise and sat up to see if the rest were all right. All those girls sleeping on the ground looked like an army. She could not help wondering--would it ever come to that in earnest? Was this semi-military training of the Camp Fire girls all over the country a prophetic flash? She looked fondly around at her charges. Hinpoha and Migwan were sleeping together and the bed would hardly hold them. Both were still sound asleep and both mechanically swatting mosquitoes in their sleep. At the foot of her own bed the Winnebago banner was stuck into the ground, keeping silent guard. Gladys's bed had come apart and her bare feet were sticking out between the ponchos.
Nyoda lay back for another nap to waken when the rising sun shone in her face. She sat up again and this time she beheld a curious sight. One of the ponchos, tied up in a long roll, suddenly rose in the air, and after waving back and forth like a pendulum, slowly descended. Smothered giggles burst from the beds about.
Again the phenomenon occurred. Nyoda jumped up suddenly.
Seizing the poncho, she shook it, and a head appeared at the bottom end. It was Hinpoha. The girls had rolled her into her poncho and tied it up, and she was lying on the ground with her legs in the air when Nyoda first spied her. It was two hours before rising time but the girls were all wide awake and ready for larks. They sat up in bed and began to throw shoes at each other, until Nyoda, in sheer self-defense, blew the rising bugle.
The river was hidden from the girls by a heavy fringe of willows, and Sahwah had not joined in the early morning frolic. When she did not appear at the sound of the bugle Nyoda went down to call her. There was no sign of the _Keewaydin_. Nyoda knew well that Sahwah would not have paddled off by herself without saying anything. The canoe had broken away and floated downstream while she was asleep! Calling Hinpoha to come and paddle bow, Nyoda launched a canoe and started in pursuit. A great fear tugged at her heart. The rapids! The first one was not three miles down.
What if Sahwah should not wake up in time to see her danger!
With powerful strokes she sent the canoe flying downstream.
Fifteen anxious minutes pa.s.sed and then they saw the _Keewaydin_ floating merrily along ahead of them, with the rope trailing out behind it and Sahwah still sound asleep in the bottom. They caught the runaway and Sahwah sat up in great surprise. ”Sahwah,”
said Nyoda severely, ”is that the best hitch-knot you can tie?
You come back to camp and tie fifty secure hitch-knots before you get a bite of breakfast!”
Migwan, fully dressed, stood on the bank of the river admiring the scenery. Without moment's warning the ground gave way under her feet and she tumbled headlong into the water. It was only up to her waist, but the suddenness of the slide took her breath away and she blinked dazedly at the laughing girls. Recovering herself, however, she asked them to throw her her toothbrush, as she might as well finish her toilet while she had the water so handy!
An instant later Gladys was in trouble. ”Watch me dive!” she called, and sprang from the bank. The water was shallow and the bottom soft, and her head stuck fast in the mud while her feet waved in the air. She was rescued from her uncomfortable position, her face and hair plastered with mud. Next, Hinpoha, swimming under water with the swift current, struck her head against a log and emerged with a great bruise. Nyoda, trying to get the pancake batter ready for breakfast, was nearly distracted with this swift succession of accidents. ”Every one of you come here and sit in a row beside me,” she commanded, ”and the first one that causes any excitement until breakfast is over will get spanked!”
”What a lovely cave!” exclaimed Migwan later when they were exploring the woods. ”It's a regular witch's cave. Nyoda, won't you dress up like a witch to-night and tell our fortunes?” Nyoda consented and the girls scoured the woods for hanging moss to decorate the cave, and for pine cones to build a charmed fire.