The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers Page 4

  CHAPTER IV.

  ANOTHER KITCHEN.

  The night of the last Camp Fire Meeting Gladys and Nyoda might have beenseen in close consultation. "The first pleasant Saturday," said Nyoda.

  "Remember, it's my treat," said Gladys.

  The first week in November was as balmy as May, with every promise offine weather on Saturday. Accordingly, Nyoda gathered all the Winnebagosaround her desk on Thursday and made an announcement. Sahwah forgot thatshe was in a class room and started to raise a joyful whoop, but Nyodastifled it in time by putting her hand over her mouth. "I can't helpit!" cried Sahwah; "we're going on a trip up the river! I'm going topaddle the _Keewaydin_ once more!"

  The plan suggested by Gladys and just announced by Nyoda was this: Thefollowing Saturday they would charter a launch big enough to hold themall, and follow the course of the Cuyahoga River upstream to the dam atthe falls, where they would land and cook their dinner over an openfire. They would tow the _Keewaydin_, Sahwah's birchbark canoe, behindthe launch, and some time during the day would manage to let every onego for a paddle. The Winnebagos thrilled with pleasurable anticipation,all but Hinpoha, who crept sadly away, for she could not bear to hearabout the fun that was being planned when she could not have a part init.

  One desire of her heart was being fulfilled, and she was getting thin.What a whole summer of rigid dieting had not been able to accomplish wasbrought to pass by a few weeks of mental suffering, and her clothes werebeginning to hang on her. Her appetite began to fail her, and her aunt,noticing this, bought her a big bottle of tonic, which, taken beforemeals, killed any small desire for food she may have had. Then AuntPhoebe decided that the two-mile walk to school was too much for her,and had her taken and called for in the machine, much to Hinpoha'sdisgust, for that walk was her chief joy these days. After a week of thetonic her soul rebelled against the nauseous dose, and when the firstbottle was empty and Aunt Phoebe sent her to get it refilled, she"refilled" it herself with a mixture of licorice candy and water, whichproduced a black syrup similar in appearance to the original medicine,but minus the bad taste and the stigma of "patent medicine," a thingwhich the Winnebagos had promised their Guardian they would not take. Asthis was deceiving her aunt she felt obliged to put a blot on her head'scutcheon, in the form of a black record, but she was so inwardlyamused at it that her appetite improved of its own accord, and AuntPhoebe remarked in a gratified way that she had never known the equal ofMullin's Modifier as a tonic.

  Migwan finished her story, copied it carefully on foolscap and sent itaway to a magazine, confident that in a very short time she would beholdit in print, and the payment she would receive for it would keep her inspending money throughout the school year. So with a light and merryheart she set out for Gladys's house on Saturday morning, where thegirls were all to meet for the outing. It was one of those dream-likedays in late autumn, when the earth, still decked in her brilliantgarments, seems to lie spellbound in the sunshine, as if there were nosuch thing as the coming of winter.

  The girls, clad in blue skirts and white middies and heavy sweaters,were whirled down to the dock in the Evans's automobile, with the_Keewaydin_ tied upright at the back. The launch was waiting for them,at one of the big boat docks, sandwiched in between two immense lakesteamers. Nothing could have been a greater contrast to their trip upthe Shadow River the summer before than this excursion. On that othertrip they had been the only living beings on the horizon, and nature wassupreme everywhere, but here they were fairly engulfed by the works ofman. The tiny craft nosed her way among giant steamers, six-hundred-footfreighters, coal barges, lighters, fire boats, tugs, scows, and all theother kinds of vessels that crowd the river-harbor of a great lake port.Viewed from below, the steel structure of the viaduct over the riverstretched out like the monstrous skeleton of some prehistoric beast.Whistles shrieked deafeningly in their ears and trains pounded jarringlyover railroad bridges. A jack-knife bridge began to descend over theirvery heads. Over where the new bridge was being constructed men stood onslender girders high in the air, catching red-hot rivets that were beingtossed them, while an automatic riveting hammer filled the air with itsnerve-destroying clamor. Everywhere was bustle and confusion, and noise,noise, noise.

  And in the midst of this tumult the tiny launch, filled with laughinggirls, threaded its way up the black river, flying the Winnebago banner,while behind it trailed a birchbark canoe, with Sahwah squatting calmlyin the stern, leaning her back against her paddle. Many times they hadto bury their noses in their handkerchiefs to shut out the smells thatassailed them on every side. On they chugged, past the lumber yards withtheir acres of stacked boards, some of which had come from the veryneighborhood of Camp Winnebago; past the chemical works, pouring out itsdarkly polluted streams into the river. "Ugh," said Gladys with ashiver, "to think that that stuff flows on into the lake and we drinklake water!"

  "It seems like a different world altogether," said Migwan, looking outacross the miles of factory-covered "flats." She was perfectlyfascinated by the rolling mills, with their rows of black stacksstanding out against the sky like organ pipes, and by the long trains ofoil-tank cars curving through the valley like huge worms, the divisionsgiving the effect of body sections.

  While the Winnebagos were gliding along among scenes strange and new,Hinpoha was vainly trying to comfort herself for having to stay at homeby catching in a bottle the bees which were crawling in and out of thecosmos blossoms in the garden. Interesting as the bees were, however,they could not keep her thoughts from turning to the Winnebagos afloaton the river, and it was a very doleful face that bent over the flowers.Her dismal reflections were interrupted by the sharp voice of AuntPhoebe calling her to come in. "What is it?" she asked listlessly, asshe came up on the porch.

  "Mrs. Evans is here," said her aunt in the doorway, "and she has askedto see you." Hinpoha was very glad to see Mrs. Evans, who rose smilinglyand took her hands in hers.

  "How thin you are getting, child!" she exclaimed, smoothing back the redcurls. "I don't believe you get out enough. By the way," she said toAunt Phoebe, "may I borrow this girl for to-day? I have considerabledriving about to do and it is rather tiresome going alone. Gladys hasgone on an all-day boat ride."

  Aunt Phoebe could not very well refuse, for driving about in a machinewith an older woman was a very proper form of recreation indeed, in herestimation.

  Hinpoha flew upstairs and deposited her bottle of bees on the table inher room for future observation and started off with Mrs. Evans. "Wewill not be back for lunch, and possibly not for supper," said Gladys'smother as she bade Aunt Phoebe a gracious good-bye, "but it will not belong after that."

  "And now for a grand spin," she said, as she started the car and sent itcrackling through the dry leaves on the pavement.

  "Now I see why the Indians named this river 'Cuyahoga,' or 'Crooked,'"said Migwan, as they rounded bend after bend in the stream. "It coilsback on itself like a snake, and I have already counted seven coilswithin the city limits. I didn't believe it when the captain of afreighter told me that there was a place in the river which his boatcouldn't pass because two sharp turns came so near together, but now Isee how that could easily be possible."

  As the launch putt-putt-putt-ed steadily up the river the watergradually became less black, and the factories along the shore gave wayto open stretches of country. By noon they reached the dam and wentashore to look for a place to build a fire. They were in a deep gorge,its steep sides thickly covered with flaming maples and oaks, andbrilliant sumachs, stretching on either side as far as they could reach."It's too gorgeous to seem real," said Nyoda, shading her eyes andlooking down the valley; "where _does_ Mother Nature keep her pot of'Diamond Dyes' in the summer time?"

  High up along the top of one of the cliffs a narrow road wound along,and as Nyoda stood looking into the distance she saw an automobilecoming along this road. When it was directly above her it stopped andtwo people got out, a woman and a girl. The sunlight fell on a mass ofred curls on the girl
's head. "Hinpoha!" exclaimed Nyoda in amazement.From above came floating down a far-echoing yodel--the familiarWinnebago call. The girls all looked up in surprise to see Hinpohascrambling down the face of the cliff, and aiding Mrs. Evans to descend.

  "Why, _mother_!" called Gladys, running up to meet her.

  The surprise at the meeting was mutual. Mrs. Evans, spinning along thecountry roads, had no idea she was hard on the trail of her daughter andthe other Winnebagos until she came suddenly upon them after they hadgotten out of the launch. "Can't you stay and spend the day with us, nowthat you're here?" they pleaded.

  Hinpoha's longing soul looked out of her eyes, but she answered, "I'mafraid not. Aunt Phoebe wouldn't approve."

  "Did she say you couldn't?" asked Sahwah.

  "No," said Hinpoha, "for I never even asked her if I might go along withyou in the launch. I knew it would be no use."

  "Oh, please stay," tempted some of the girls; "your aunt'll never knowthe difference."

  "Oh, I couldn't do that," said Hinpoha in a tone of horror. A littleapproving smile crept around the corners of Nyoda's eyes as she heardHinpoha so resolutely bidding Satan get behind her. Mrs. Evans wasgenuinely sorry they had encountered the girls, because it made it somuch harder for Hinpoha.

  "I wonder," she said musingly, "if I drove on to a house in the road andtelephoned your aunt that she would let you stay?"

  "You might try," said Hinpoha doubtfully. Mrs. Evans thought it wasworth trying. She found a house with a telephone and got Aunt Phoebe onthe wire. With the utmost tact she explained how they had met the girlsaccidently, and that she had taken a notion that she would like to spendthe day with them, but of course she could not do so unless Hinpohawould be allowed to stay with her, as she had charge of her for the day.What was Aunt Phoebe to do? She was not equal to telling the admiredMrs. Evans to forego her pleasure because of Hinpoha, and gave agrudging consent to her keeping her niece with her on the condition thatshe would bring her home in the machine and not let her come back in thelaunch with the Winnebagos. Jubilant, they returned to the girls in thegorge and told the good news.

  "Cheer for Mrs. Evans," cried Sahwah, and the Winnebagos gave it with ahearty good will.

  Hinpoha, with Sahwah close beside her, began I searching for firewoodindustriously. "It seems just like last summer," she said, choppingsticks with Sahwah's hatchet. The two had wandered off a short distancefrom the others, following a tiny footpath. Suddenly they came upon ahuge rock formation, that looked like an immense fireplace, about fortyfeet wide and twenty or more feet high. Under that great stone arch adozen spits, each big enough to hold a whole ox, might easily haveswung. Sahwah and Hinpoha looked at it in amazement and then called forthe other girls to come and see.

  "Why, that's the 'Old Maid's Kitchen,'" said Mrs. Evans, when shearrived on the scene. "I've been here before. Just why it should becalled the _Old Maid's_ Kitchen is more than I can tell, for it lookslike the fireplace belonging to the grand-mother of all giantesses."

  "Let's build our fire inside of it," said Nyoda.

  "The original 'Old Maid' had a convenience that didn't usually go withopen fireplaces," said Gladys, "and that is running water," and she heldher cup under a tiny stream that trickled out between two rocks, cold asice and clear as crystal.

  "Wouldn't this be a grand place for a Ceremonial Meeting?" said Migwan,as they all stood round the blazing fire roasting "wieners" and bacon.The Kitchen had a floor of smooth slabs of rock, and the arch of thefireplace formed a roof over their heads, while its wide openingafforded them a wonderful view of the gorge.

  "Whenever you want to come here again, just say so," said Mrs. Evans,"and I'll bring you down in the machine." Mrs. Evans was enjoyingherself as much as any of the girls. It was the first time she had evercooked wieners and bacon over an open fire on green sticks, and she wasperfectly delighted with the experience. "If my husband could only seeme now," she said, laughing like a girl as she dropped her last wienerin the dirt and calmly washed it off in the trickling stream. "How goodthis hot cocoa tastes!" she exclaimed, drinking down a whole cupfulwithout stopping. "What kind is it?"

  "Camp Fire Girl Cocoa," answered the girls.

  "What kind is that?" asked Mrs. Evans.

  "It is a brand that is put up by a New York firm for the Camp Fire Girlsto sell," answered Nyoda.

  "Why have we never had any of this at our house?" asked Mrs. Evans,turning to Gladys.

  "You have always insisted that you would use no other kind than VanHorn's," replied Gladys, "so I thought there would be no use inmentioning it."

  "I like this better than Van Horn's," said her mother. "Is there any tobe had now?"

  "There certainly is," answered Nyoda. "We are trying to dispose of ahundred-can lot to pay our annual dues."

  "Let me have a dozen cans," said Mrs. Evans. "I will serve Camp FireGirl Cocoa to my Civic Club next Wednesday afternoon. I----"

  Here a terrific shriek from Migwan brought them all to their feet. Shehad been poking about in the corner of the Kitchen, when something hadsuddenly jumped out at her, unfolded itself like a fan and was whirlingaround her head. "It's a bat!" cried Sahwah, and they all laughedheartily at Migwan's fright. The bat wheeled around, blind in thedaylight, and went bumping against the girls, causing them to run inalarm lest it should get entangled in their hair. It finally found itsway back to the dark corner of the Kitchen and hung itself up neatly theway Migwan had found it and the dinner proceeded.

  "What kind of a bat was it?" asked Gladys.

  "Must have been a _bacon bat_," said Sahwah, dodging the acorn thatHinpoha threw at her for making a pun.

  "Tell us a new game to play, Nyoda," said Gladys, "or Sahwah will goright on making puns."

  "Here is one I thought of on the way down," answered Nyoda. "Think ofall the things that you know are manufactured in Cleveland, or form animportant part of the shipping industry. Then we'll go around thecircle, naming them in alphabetical order. Each girl may have tenseconds in which to think when her turn comes, and if she misses she isout of the game. She may only come in again by supplying a word whenanother has missed, before the next girl in the circle can think ofone."

  "And let the two that hold out the longest have the first ride in thecanoe," suggested Sahwah.

  The game started. Nyoda had the first chance. "Automobiles," she began.

  "Bricks," said Gladys.

  "Clothing," said Migwan.

  "Drugs," said Sahwah.

  "Engines," said Hinpoha.

  "Flour," said Mrs. Evans.

  "Gasoline," said Nakwisi.

  "Hardware," said Chapa.

  "Iron," said Medmangi.

  Nyoda hesitated, fishing for a "J." "One, two, three, four, five, six,"began Sahwah.

  "Jewelry!" cried Nyoda on the tenth count.

  "Knitted goods," continued Gladys.

  "Lamps," said Migwan.

  "Macaroni," said Sahwah.

  "That reminds me," said Mrs. Evans, "I meant to order some macaronito-day and forgot it."

  "N," said Hinpoha, "N,--why, Nothing!" The girls laughed at the wittyapplication, but she was ruled out nevertheless.

  "Nails," said Mrs. Evans.

  "Oil," said Nakwisi.

  "Paint," said Chapa.

  Medmangi sat down. Nyoda began to count. "Quadrupeds!" cried Medmangihastily.

  "Explain yourself," said Nyoda.

  "Tables and chairs," said Medmangi. The girls shouted in derision, butNyoda ruled the answer in, and the game proceeded.

  "Refrigerators," said Nyoda.

  "Salt," said Gladys.

  "Tents," said Migwan, with a reminiscent sigh.

  "Umbrellas," said Sahwah.

  Mrs. Evans fell down on "V." "Varnish," said Chapa.

  "W" was too much for Medmangi. "Wire," said Nyoda.

  "X," said Sahwah, "there is no such thing. Oh, yes, there is, too;Xylophones, they're made here."

  Gladys and Migwan met their Waterloo on "Y." "Yeast," said
Nyoda.

  "Z," sent Chapa and Nakwisi to the dummy corner and it came back toSahwah. "Zerolene," she said.

  "What's that?" they all cried.

  "I don't know," she answered, "but I saw it on one of the big oil tanksas we passed."

  Sahwah and Nyoda won the right to take the first paddle in the_Keewaydin_. They carried the canoe on their heads, portage fashion,around the dam, and launched it up above, where the confined waters hadspread out into a wide pond. "Oh, what a joy to dip a paddle again!"sighed Sahwah blissfully, sending the _Keewaydin_ flying through thewater with long, vigorous strokes. "I'd love to paddle all the wayhome." She had completely forgotten that there was such a thing asschool and lessons in the world. She was the Daughter of the River, andthis was a joyous homecoming.

  "Time to go back and let the rest have a turn," said Nyoda. ReluctantlySahwah steered the canoe around and returned to the waiting group. Mrs.Evans watched with interest as Gladys and Hinpoha pushed out from shore.Could this be her once frail daughter, who had despised all strenuoussports and hated water above all things, who was swinging her paddle solustily and steering the _Keewaydin_ so skilfully? What was this strangeSomething that the Camp Fire had instilled into her? She caught herbreath with the beauty of it, as the girls glided along between theradiant banks, the two paddles flashing in and out in perfect rhythm.They were singing a favorite boating song, and their voices floated backon the breeze:

  "Through the mystic haze of the autumn days Like a phantom ghost I glide, Where the big moose sees the crimson trees Mirrored on the silver tide, And the blood red sun when day is done Sinks below the hill, The night hawk swoops, the lily droops, And all the world is still!"

  Sahwah lingered on the river after the others had gone in a body to tryto climb to the top of the rocky fireplace. She was all alone in the_Keewaydin_, and sent it darting around like a water spider on thesurface of the stream. So absorbed was she in the joy of paddling thatshe did not see a sign on a tree beside the river which warned people inboats to go no further than that point, neither did she realize thesignificance of the quicker progress which the _Keewaydin_ was making.When she did realize that she was getting dangerously near the edge ofthe dam, and attempted to turn back, she discovered to her horror thatit was impossible to turn back. The _Keewaydin_ was being swepthelplessly and irresistibly onward. Recent rains had swollen the streamand the water was pouring over the dam. Sahwah screamed aloud when shesaw the peril in which she was. Nyoda and Mrs. Evans and the girls,standing up on the rocks, turned and saw her. Help was out of thequestion. Frozen to the spot they saw her rushing along to that descentof waters. Gladys moaned and covered her face with her hands. Below thefalls the great rocks jutted out, jagged and bare. Any boat going overwould be dashed to pieces.

  The _Keewaydin_ shot forward, gaining speed with every second. The roarof the falls filled Sahwah's ears. Not ten feet from the brink a rockjutted up a little above the surface, just enough to divide the currentinto two streams. When the _Keewaydin_ reached this point it turnedsharply and was hurled into the current nearest the shore. On the bankright at the brink of the falls stood a great willow tree, its longbranches drooping far out over the water. It was one chance in a millionand Sahwah saw it. As she passed under the tree she reached up andcaught hold of a branch, seized it firmly and jumped clear of the canoe,which went over the falls almost under her feet. Then, swinging along byher arms, she reached the shore and stood in safety. It had all happenedso quickly the girls could hardly comprehend it. Gladys, who had hiddenher eyes to shut out the dreadful sight, heard an incredulous shout fromthe girls and looked down to see the _Keewaydin_ landing on the rocksbelow, empty, and Sahwah standing on the bank.

  "How did you ever manage to do it?" gasped Hinpoha, when they hadsurrounded her with exclamations of joy and amazement. "You're a heroineagain."

  "You're nothing of the sort," said Nyoda. "It was sheer foolhardiness orcarelessness that got you into that scrape. A girl who doesn't knowenough to keep out of the current isn't to be trusted with a canoe, nomatter what a fine paddler she is. I certainly thought better of youthan that, Sahwah. I never used to have the slightest anxiety when youwere on the water, I had such a perfect trust in your common sense, butnow I can never feel quite sure of you again."

  Sahwah hung her head in shame, for she felt the truth of Nyoda's words."I think you can trust me after this," she said humbly. "I have learnedmy lesson." She was not likely to forget the horror of the moment whenshe had heard the water roaring over the dam and thought her time hadcome. Sahwah liked to be thought clever as well as daring, and it wascertainly far from clever to run blindly into danger as she had done.She sank dejectedly down on the bank, feeling disgraced forever in theeyes of the Winnebagos.

  "Girls," said Mrs. Evans, wishing to take their minds off the frightthey had received, "do you know that we are not many miles from one ofthe model dairy farms of the world? I could take you over in the car andbring you back here in time to go home in the launch."

  "Let's do it, Nyoda," begged all the Winnebagos, and into the machinethey piled. When they were still far in the distance they could see thehigh towers of the barns rising in the air. "We're nearly there," saidMrs. Evans; "here is the beginning to the cement fence that runs all theway around the four-thousand-acre farm." Mrs. Evans knew some of thepeople in charge of the farm and they had no difficulty gainingadmittance. That visit to the Carter Farm was a long-remembered one. Thegirls walked through the long stables exclaiming at everything they saw.

  "Why, there's an electric fan in each stall!" gasped Migwan, "and thewindows are screened!"

  "Oo, look at the darling calf," gurgled Hinpoha, on her knees before oneof the stalls, caressing a ten-thousand-dollar baby.

  "It doesn't look a bit like its mother," observed Nyoda, comparing itwith the cow standing beside it.

  "That isn't its mother, that's its nurse," said the man who was showingthem around.

  "Its what?" said Nyoda. Then the man explained that the milk from theblooded cows was too valuable to be fed to calves, as it commanded ahigh price on the market, and so a herd of common cows were kept to feedthe aristocratic babies. The lovely little creatures were as tame askittens and allowed the girls to fondle them to their hearts' content.Sometimes a pair of polished horns would come poking between a calf andthe visitors, and a soft-eyed cow would view the proceedings with acomically anxious face, and then it was easy to tell which calf was withits mother.

  In one of the largest stalls they saw the champion Guernsey of theworld. Her coat was like satin and her horns were polished until theyshone. She did not seem to be in the least set up on account of hergreat reputation and thrust out her nose in the friendliest mannerpossible to be patted and fussed over. She eyed Gladys, who stood nextto her, with amiable curiosity, and then suddenly licked her face. Mrs.Evans watched Gladys in surprise. Instead of quivering all over withdisgust as she would have a year ago she simply laughed and patted thecow's nose. "What is going to happen?" said Mrs. Evans to herself,"Gladys isn't afraid of cows any more!" But the most interesting partcame when the cows were milked. They were driven into another barn forthis performance and their heads fastened into sort of metal hoopssuspended from the ceiling. These turned in either direction and causedthem no discomfort, but kept them standing in one place. The milking wasdone with vacuum-suction machines run by electricity and took only ashort time.

  When the girls had watched the process as long as they wished they weretaken to see the prize hogs and chickens, and then went through the hothouses. There were rows and rows of glass houses filled with grapes, thegreat bunches hanging down from the roof and threatening to fall withtheir own weight. And one did fall, just as they were going through, andcame smashing down in the path at their feet. Nakwisi ran to pick it upand the guide said she might have it, adding that such a bunch,unbruised, sold for twenty-five cents in the city market. "Oh, howdelicious!" cried Nakwisi,' tasting the grapes and dividing them amongthe girls. Mrs.
Evans bought a basketful and let them eat all theywanted. In some of the hothouses tangerines were growing, and in somepersimmons, while others were given over to the raising of roses,carnations and rare orchids. It was a trip through fairyland for thegirls, and they could hardly tear themselves away when the time came.

  "There is something else I must show you while we are in theneighborhood," said Mrs. Evans, as they passed through Akron. "Doesanybody know what two historical things are near here?" Nobody knew.Mrs. Evans began humming, "John Brown's Body Lies A-mouldering in theGrave."

  "What has that to do with it?" asked Gladys.

  "Everything, with one of them," said Mrs. Evans.

  "Did you know that John Brown, owner of the said body, was born inAkron, and there is a monument here to his memory?"

  "Oh how lovely," cried Migwan, "let us see it." So Mrs. Evans drove themover to the monument and they all stood around it and sang "John Brown'sBody" in his honor.

  "Now, what's the other thing?" they asked.

  "I believe I know," said Nyoda. "Doesn't the old Portage Trail runthrough here somewhere?"

  "That's it," said Mrs. Evans.

  Then Nyoda told them about the Portage Path of Indian days, before thecanal was built, that extended from Lake Erie to the Ohio River. "Thepart that runs through Akron is still called Portage Path," said Mrs.Evans, and the girls were eager to see it.

  "Why, it's nothing but a paved street!" exclaimed Migwan indisappointment, when they had reached the historical spot.

  "That's all it is now," answered Mrs. Evans, "but it is built over theold Portage Trail, and some of these old trees undoubtedly shaded theoriginal path." In the minds of the girls the handsome residences fadedfrom sight, and in place of the wide street they saw the narrow pathtrailing off through the forest, with dusky forms stealing along it ontheir long journey southward.

  "It's time to strike our own trail now," said Nyoda, breaking thesilence, and they started back to the river. Every one was anxious tomake it as pleasant as possible for Hinpoha, and the jests came thickand fast as they drove along. "Who is the best Latin scholar here?"asked Nyoda.

  "I am," said Sahwah, mischievously.

  "Then you can undoubtedly tell me what Caesar said on the Fourth ofJuly, 45 B.C." said Nyoda.

  "I don't seem to recollect," said Sahwah.

  "Then read for yourself," said Nyoda, scribbling a few words on a leaffrom her notebook and handing it to her.

  "What's this?" said Sahwah, spelling out the words. On the paper waswritten,

  _Quis crudis enim rufus, albus et expiravit._

  Sahwah tried to translate. "_Quis,_ who; _crudis_, raw; _enim_--what's_enim_?"

  "For," answered Migwan.

  "And _expiravit_" said Sahwah, "what's that from?"

  "_Expiro_" answered Migwan, "_expirare, expiravi, expiratus_. It means'blow,' '_Expiravit_' is 'have blown.'"

  "_Rufus_ is 'red,'" continued Sahwah, "and is _albus_ 'white'?" Migwannodded, and Sahwah went back to the beginning and began to read: "_Whoraw for red white and have blown._"

  Nyoda shouted. "That last word is _blew_, not _have blown_" she said.

  "I have it!" cried Migwan, jumping up. "It's '_Who raw for the red,white and blew.' 'Hoorah for the red, white and blue!_'"

  "Such wit!" said Sahwah, laughing with the rest.

  "Now, I'll make a motto for Sahwah," said Migwan, seizing the pencil.Migwan was a Senior and took French, and having a sudden inspiration,she wrote, "_Pas de lieu Rhone que nous!_" The girls could not translateit and Nyoda puzzled over it for a long time.

  "I don't seem to be able to make anything out of it," she said atlength.

  "Don't try to translate it," said Migwan, "just read it out loud," Nyodacomplied and Sahwah caught it immediately.

  "It's '_Paddle your own canoe!_" she cried.

  Thus, laughing and joking, they followed the road back to the dam andembarked in the launch with all speed, for the sun was already sinkingbeneath the treetops and they had a two-hour ride ahead of them. Mrs.Evans took Hinpoha back in the machine and delivered her to her auntsafe and sound at eight o'clock, with many expressions of pleasure atthe fun she had had with the Camp Fire Girls, which were intended asseeds to be planted in Aunt Phoebe's mind.

  "I think your mother's a perfect dear," said Sahwah to Gladys on thetrip home. "I used to be frightened to death of her, because she alwayslooked so straight-laced and proper, but she isn't like that at all.She's a regular Camp Fire Girl!"