"Aren't they dear! Where did you get them, Miss Miller?" questioned Zan, as the girls crowded around the Guide and admired the new tools.
"I wrote to Headquarters and found out where I could purchase outfittings," replied the Guide, leading the way toward the hill. All of the girls wore khaki bloomers and soft shirts, with heavy stockings and rubber-soled sneakers protecting legs and feet, so that the hill-climb presented only a Nature test to be thoroughly enjoyed by them after their invigorating bath.
"Girls, as long as we are off for a hike, why not make something worth while of the time?" asked the Guide looking at her companions.
"Anything you say goes with us, Miss Miller!" said Zan emphatically.
"Well, then suppose we try to identify our native trees—as many as we find in this section of the country—and begin to gather wild flowers and plants, for Jane to make blue prints from. At the same time we can study their botanical features and arrange them in groups for use in trays, or pictures."
"Why, that is a novel idea! How did you think of it, Miss Miller?" cried Elena, her artistic nature roused.
"I love wild flowers, and I always did think they would make beautiful decorations if properly treated so they would retain their lines and details," replied the Guide.
"It's too bad you didn't mention it sooner, so I could have brought a basket or something to keep them in," said Jane.
"Why carry a basket when one can be had for the picking!" laughed Miss Miller.
Again the girls were mystified, and waited for an explanation. It was slow in coming for the Guide seemed very intent upon seeking for something she could not find.
After ten minutes' walk she exclaimed, "Ha! I thought so! The kind of grass I wanted always grows near the hill-tops."
She motioned the girls to sit down while she gathered a few handsful of long wiry grass and showed them how to weave a fine grass basket. It was a small model but very compact and strong. They watched eagerly while deft fingers flew and the grass strands went in and out, until the roll on top was finished. The handle was another matter, and Miss Miller said she would make that another time.
"But this is so dainty it will never hold plants or roots!" said Elena.
"Not this sample but we can make others on the same lines and use other materials. Perhaps Zan can show us where we can find some rushes, or wand-grass. Then too, willow makes good strong baskets."
"Why, sure! Right down by the Bid Ridge we can gather all the rushes we want, and a whole group of young willows grow over by Pine Nob—that's a giant hill back of Hamilton's Farm," exclaimed Zan eagerly.
"Some rainy day, then, we will sit by the fire and make some rush mats," added the Guide.
"Oh, stop! please don't mention any more, or my head will whirl off!" laughed Jane, holding down the top of her head, but with eyes sparkling with anticipation of all the coups waiting to be won.
Miss Miller smiled as she started on up the hill-side. "Don't wait for me to point out a tree—take the first one you see. The same with the flowers and shrubs."
"But here's some grass that ought to make a strong basket!" called Nita, who was a few paces ahead.
"Yes, let us gather some and construct a carrier in case we find some plants we want to dig up, root and flower," advised the Guide.
They were all eagerly engaged in their first attempt at weaving with grass and found it not nearly as easy as it seemed when the Guide was doing it. Sometimes the grass slipped, sometimes it broke; then, it would refuse to slide up or down, and again it would cut into tender flesh if it was pulled too hard.
After a time, however, a sort of a misshapen bowl-like article was finished by Hilda who declared it looked just like an Eskimo's treasure. The other girls decided to carry their material and half-finished shapes with them and wait for another recess in the hike before weaving more.
"I see a maple!" exclaimed Elena, as they climbed.
"Pshaw! every one knows a maple tree so there can't be anything new worth hearing about a maple," said Nita.
"How do you know but that we may discover some new feature about a maple that you never dreamed of before?" asked Miss Miller.
"Hitherto unpublished—exclusive rights claimed by Wickeecheokee Band!" added Zan.
"Not so many moons since, I met a group of girls who were greatly surprised to find that sugar came from maples!" added Miss Miller, smiling at Nita.
"Oh, that was different! What I mean now, is, that every one knows a maple when they see one, and it's nothing new."
Miss Miller examined the maple thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "How many of you know what kind of a maple this is?"
"We have one like it on the front lawn and Dad always calls it "the red maple,"" replied Zan.
"Yes, it is a red maple. Acer is the Latin name, while maple is the common name. Now look at the height of this tree and tell me how tall it will grow before it reaches its full growth?"
"This one is not twenty feet, is it?" asked Elena.
"No, about twenty—I should say."
"The red maple on our lawn is at least thirty feet high, Miss Miller, and Dad says it is an old tree," said Zan.
"About thirty feet is the average height. Now, tell me, do you think this tree will thrive best on this hill-side or down in the glade beyond the bridge—where the ground is low and moist?" continued the Guide.
"I don't know—do you?" said Jane, looking at the other girls.
"Give up! There's another item we failed to know," replied Zan.
"The red maple thrives best in low woodsie land. It needs rich soil and plenty of moisture. Now examine the bark of this one carefully. It is smooth and spotted, but this is an old tree in spite of its height, for the spots grow dark on old trees and are always lighter on younger ones—in fact, quite young trees have white spots. Its timber is valuable for house trim and some kinds of cabinet work. The red maple is highly ornamental and of late years has been selected for landscape gardening and shade trees."
Miss Miller looked at the tree a moment, then said, "We will review this lesson on the house-lawn where Zan says a large maple grows. Now, pass on to the next tree."
"I see a great big oak!" cried Elena.
"How many kinds of oak do you suppose there are in the world?" asked Miss Miller.
No one could tell her so she replied, "I do not know myself, as I suppose there are many species never heard of in the great forests of South America, Africa and Asia. However, we know there are the White Oak, found mostly in the United States, Adriatic Oak, European Oak, Live Oak of the Southern States, the Holm Red Oak, commonest in Northern States—this is a Red Oak tree—, Black Oak, one of the loftiest of forest trees, and a Live Oak of Asia. The timber of each one of the Oak species is valuable, as its grain is straight, the wood hard, and of strong quality and durability. I remember the oak ceiling timber of my old home.[A] The house was built long before Washington crossed the Delaware and my father inherited it along with a few acres of ground. When I was a little girl of about six, mother wanted the old dining-room modernized. The carpenters contracting to do the work showed us some solid timbers that were hewn out by hand with the axe. On the side where mother wished two windows to be turned into a bow-window for her winter flowers, the men had to saw through a beam as hard as iron. Finally, the boss carpenter said, "We will have to take this beam out whole to save time and strength." They did so, and what do you suppose we found cut in one side of that oak beam?"
The girls had been listening with all attention, but of course no one could imagine what was found.
"The dates of the time when Washington's army were in winter quarters on Fort Nonsense, Morristown, N. J. Several of his men were stationed at the old house and had cut their initials in the beam which must have been exposed at the time. Father found out that the window-casing and ceiling of plaster were added later to beautify the house according to up-to-date ideas at the time. At the time the army camped on the mountainside, the house was of rough timber, without any attempt at finish or adornment."
"How interesting!" said some of the girls.
"What became of the log?" asked practical Zan.
"The George Washington Headquarters requested the loan of the beam to exhibit in their museum."
"Then that oak beam lasted over a hundred and forty years and was good as new when found!" declared Zan wonderingly.
"Yes, it would have lasted a hundred and fifty more, if it had been left encased safely as it was when found," replied Miss Miller.
"Was it a Red Oak?" asked Nita.
"How could Miss Miller tell, you ninny! She was only six years old!" said Jane.
"I don't think any one thought to investigate at the time. The people were not so keen for Nature lore then as now," laughed Miss Miller.
Then continuing, "This oak has leaves, you will see, with deep veinings; they are scalloped on the edges, and curved out toward the middle-sides and in again toward the end. This tree, I should say, is about eighty feet high, although they grow to a hundred. Their diameter is from one to three feet through. The leaves of this oak were green when they first grew but they turn red as the season advances and by fall they are a beautiful crimson."
As they passed on, Jane cried, "Here's a chestnut tree, as every one knows!"
"Do you know anything of its individuality?" asked Miss Miller.
"I know that it blossoms into long feathery catkins that smell very sweet, something like the blossoms on our grapevines," said Zan.
"And I guess every one knows that the fruit is found in a burr that pricks your fingers like fury if you're not careful," added Elena.
"I know that the wood is good for fence-posts 'cause Dad ordered Bill to be sure and get chestnut posts for the fence that closes in the out-houses," Zan remembered.
"Anybody else wish to contribute?" asked Miss Miller.
"Every one wants to but can't afford it this time," laughed Jane eagerly.
"Well then, the chestnut is a deciduous tree that grows to a considerable height and size. Its timber is light weight, cross-grained and very durable; that is why it has been preferred in the past for posts. Its leaves are long and shiny and has sharp pointed edges. The nuts are sweet and of a starchy nature, also highly nutritious. The variety we have had in such numbers in the Middle Atlantic States have been destroyed by a strange fungoid disease that attacked them and was spread rapidly by wind and the birds until the finest trees are gone! It is almost impossible to detect the diseased tree until it is fated and soon an entire grove is doomed beyond help or cure.
"Foresters and gardeners have sought to protect and save other trees by cutting down a tree the moment the symptoms appeared, but it has been found useless. Even the timber of a diseased tree is worthless as it is soon entirely eaten by worms that are bred in the tree during the first stages of the disease."
"Maybe that is why we don't see so many chestnuts for sale?" pondered Hilda, who was very fond of the nut.
"Perhaps, and perhaps it is because a sick tree does not bear well. Personally, I believe chestnut trees like quiet and retirement and droop to die when civilisation creeps too close to their environment. If that is so, the chestnut trees have seen their best days, and the future will continue without any acquaintance with the extinct tree," said Miss Miller.
"Miss Miller talks of trees just as if they knew what was going on about them!" laughed Nita.
"That's what always makes her talks so vital and interesting to us!" commended Zan.
"They are all alive, and do know all that concerns them, but mortals never stop to think of this! I look at it in this light. We read in Genesis that God made everything and He saw that it was very good. Then, the narrative goes on to say that the Creator who made everything that was made had all Life, all Intelligence, all Love within Himself. Of this great power and love He created man in His own image and likeness. Man was given dominion over all living creatures and things. Now take that into your thought, girls! All living things! I firmly believe that the good God who gave us charge of all living things wanted us to watch over and love and use intelligence in the way we governed His creation. This tree is a living thing—it has as much of the divine authority to live as we have. It has as much divine intelligence as anything created for a purpose. So, this tree is recognised by me, who am also created by the same Father for a purpose, as a living thing growing to beautify the universe and to provide man with delicious food."
"Oh, Miss Miller if you were only a man what a fine preacher you would make!" exclaimed Zan enthusiastically.
"I can preach as well in my sphere as a woman!" laughed Miss Miller.
"Oh! are you a suffragist!" gasped Nita.
"Would it change your opinion of my qualities and character, if I admitted I was? I did not say I was, I only ask you if it would make a difference to you with what I really am?"
"Well, I don't know anything about the matter except what my mother said to her friends at a card party one day. She didn't understand how women could lecture and parade and ask for the vote when they could have a good time at home playing bridge and going out shopping, or taking a week-end trip to some friend's country house."
Miss Miller never said a word in reply neither did she tell Nita whether she was a suffragist, or just a pleasure-seeking woman.
"Dear me, what was it we were talking about when we got switched off the track!" said Elena.
"Chestnuts!" laughed Zan, the others joining her.
"I see a hickory tree—I'll choose that if you're through with other subjects," said Nita.
"All right, and we will give you first choice to tell us all about the tree," replied Miss Miller, as they forced a way through the undergrowth until the tree was reached.
"I don't know a thing about it except that I like the nuts."
"How did you know it was a hickory tree if you were not familiar with the bark or leaves," asked Miss Miller.
"I heard Zan say so and point it out to Jane as being a splendid tree for nuts in the fall," replied Nita.
"I can describe the nuts and the shell, and that's about all. I always know a hickory when I see one, by its leaves and the way it grows, but I can't tell why it is so," said Zan.
No one could tell so Miss Miller explained. "The hickory is found in plenty in North America. It has pinnate leaves, grows from seventy to ninety feet high and is slender in trunk. The timber is heavy, tenacious, and strong, but it decays rapidly when exposed to heat or moisture. The bark is rough and easily stripped. The blossoms are short catkins, sweetly perfumed, and the nuts are highly nutritious, forming inside of a cover of shell-bark that peels off in quarter-plates."
"I think I can describe one after that, and pick out a hickory from other trees," remarked Hilda.
"So c'n I—who couldn't?" retorted Jane.
"How many trees does that make?" asked Miss Miller.
"Maple, oak, chestnut and hickory," Zan counted off on her fingers.
"Four! We've got to find six more," cried Elena, pushing on to seek a new variety of tree.
"Here's one that you'll be glad to hear about," called Zan. They turned back and saw a low bush-like tree that would have been passed by without a look, if it hadn't been for the alert Zan.
"That's a bush!" sneered Nita.
"It's called a tree in botany!" retorted Zan triumphantly.
"Yes, a hazel-nut is a tree although it looks like a bush to me," explained Miss Miller.
"Is that a hazel-nut tree?" wondered Jane amazed.
"It doesn't look like much!" said Nita deprecatingly.
"Looks don't count for everything—wait till you want some hazel-nuts. This is a record-breaker for nuts!" snapped Zan, defending her pet hazel-nut.
"I consider a hazel-nut a very interesting specimen to study. Its blossoms are very small and very sweet; in fact, a cluster of hazel flowers makes a lovely nose-gay. The male tree blooms in catkins and is more conspicuous. Its growth is like unto a large shrub or low tree with wood that is tough but flexible. The leaf is shaped like a roseleaf and notched on the edges. The nuts form in a bell-like cup and the meat is very sweet and good.
"The Witch-hazel, from which a fluid called 'Pond's Extract' comes, is peculiar in that it blooms in the Fall—the yellow stars shining in the woods. The name originally was spelled 'wyche' meaning a box. The wood was always used for making chests that fitted in old-time halls. These chests or wyches, had no connection whatever with magic. To-day, however, the common belief is that the name is derived from the magic power of the 'Dowser' or Water-Finder. A hazel wand is accorded the quality of discovering water under the ground when held in the hands of certain people. If the holder passed over a spot where water could be found the wand would bend until its tip touched the earth where water could be found if dug for."
"Do you believe that, Miss Miller?" asked a sceptical one.
"I used to accept the statement as a fact until quite recently when I read of a renowned engineer who claims that the wand is quite unnecessary as water can be found by any one strong-minded enough to concentrate upon the discovery about to be made. This Englishman, who is an authority in such matters, says that many well-known engineers have tried and found that the wand has not the inherent power to discriminate or fathom for water. I have known folks who might experiment and carry a wand forever without its ever moving a hair's breadth in their hands, as they themselves were too material and 'thick' to discern the things under the earth or above the earth, either!"
"Let's sit down here and listen to more of this queer talk," suggested Zan eagerly.
"No, we are out for a tramp to find trees and I am not going to talk of things you are not old enough to understand," said Miss Miller positively.
"Miss Miller, here's a maple, but it's not red!" said Jane, pointing to the rounded top of a thick tree.
"That's a sap maple like the ones in the sugar grove. If it were spring we could tap the trunk and get some of the sweet saccharine that rises up in the trunk. The sugar maple grows as high as seventy feet and sometimes measures three feet in diameter. It has hard wood, of satiny lustre. It generally has a well-formed crown and thick foliage. A single maple will yield from five to ten pounds of maple sugar in season."
"Zan, for goodness' sake, let us have some sugar when you can get it!" exclaimed Elena.
"All right, remind me and we will ask Bill if there is any left from this spring's boiling," replied Zan.
"There's a Christmas tree, Miss Miller."
"Oh, help! A spider's got on me! It crawled from that bush!" cried Nita, vainly squirming and shaking herself to throw off the insect.
The other girls ran away from her for they too, were afraid of a spider.
"Pooh! It won't hurt you! Can't any of you tell the difference between a poisonous and a harmless bug?" Zan cried.
"That gives me an idea," said Miss Miller, as Zan brushed off the gaudily striped spider. "The first afternoon we have to spare from routine plans, we will take up the interesting study of insect life, and learn not to call everything a bug!"
"If we do half the things we hope to accomplish, we'll be the prize Tribe of the Indians!" commented Zan.
"We must always strive for the unattainable. Although we are not aware at the time that our goal is far beyond our capacity to attain, still it is the incentive that makes for progress. Having once obtained what we desired, we are disappointed in the realisation and so keep on striving. Discouragement and laziness, are the two worst enemies that progress ever meet. I think that of the two discouragement is even harder to combat with than laziness. So, with our plans for the summer: we outline far more than we can actually accomplish but it is an incentive and we push onward and upward."
"Who chose the last tree?" called Elena, during the silence that followed upon the little lecture.
"Nita found a Christmas tree," replied Jane.
"That is a pine tree—of the family of abies. Spruce, fir, pine, and others all come under the family name. You will always see a pine tree grow straight up, unless some obstacle turns aside its natural tendency. The pine wood is composed of cells that are filled with piney sap. It is a long-lived tree, there being on record pine trees that are 2,000 years old—a report says some pines in the Holy Land have been found that register an age of 3,000 years. The timber of pine trees is very useful for hardwood building purposes and the sap is used for the manufacture of turpentines, oils and resins. The limbs grow on an almost horizontal line from the tree and the offshoots of the limbs follow the same strange line. The greens form in a flat shape almost like a fan, and when young and tender make the best of camp beds. When a tree is utterly decayed the wood forms pitch and tar."
"And in December, the tree is in great demand by all children for decorative purposes!" added Zan, as Miss Miller finished her discourse.
"Yes, I find I always forget the most important item, or at least Zan thinks so," laughed the Guide.
"My! I never knew so much about wood in my life!" exclaimed Elena.
"Trees, my dear! don't call these magnificent tall giants by so common a name as wood!" corrected Zan.
"I guess there aren't any other varieties in these woods," ventured Nita, looking about for a new species.
"Oh, yes, there are. I have seen a dozen more in a short walk," replied Miss Miller.
"Here's a kind we haven't had. I don't know what it is, though," said Jane.
"That is a birch tree. Haven't you ever chewed birch bark?" said Zan, disdainfully, at Jane's ignorance of a birch.
"I've tasted birch beer but I don't like it!" said she.
"Birch flavour is used in soda water, candy, and soft drinks of all kinds. It is also in great demand for flavouring obnoxious medicines as it disguises the disagreeable taste," said Miss Miller, adding, "Who can describe the birch tree?"
"I don't believe any of us can; I was the only one that knew what sort of a tree it was, and that is all I can tell," admitted Zan reluctantly.
"The Latin for birch is "betula." Its flowers grow in catkins and bud in early spring. The tree is often as high as seventy feet. The wood is highly prized by cabinet makers. The bark is so durable that it has been found intact after the tree has decayed. Often a woodsman will come across a birch that seems to be newly fallen. He will strike in with his axe to ascertain the value of the timber and the bark will split showing a hollow inside, or at least a mass of decayed wood. The bark is very useful for the building of canoes, dishes, wooden utilities, and even hats.
"The mahogany birch grows in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, to the height of seventy to eighty feet and is two to three feet thick. In spring the rich green leaves of this tree are covered with a thick down almost like hoar frost. It is beautiful at this season. Later, this down disappears and the leaves remain a bright green. They are oval shaped, and pointed at ends. The timber of the mahogany birch is a hard close-grain and of a reddish brown colour."
"Mother just got a new chamber suite of furniture that she bought for mahogany and told all of her friends at the bridge club about her magnificent mahogany furniture for her guest-chamber. When the club met at our house she took the ladies in to show off the furniture. Mrs. Dewitt said, "Why, my poor dear Mrs. Brampton, you were cheated if you bought this for mahogany!" My mother got awful mad at first, then another lady told her the wood was stained mahogany and was known as mahogany birch. Mother sent it right back the next day and said she would never trade at that place again. But the man tried to explain that the furniture was called mahogany, and at the price she should have known that it was birch. Now I will know how to tell the difference between birch and real mahogany, won't I?" said Nita eagerly.
"Yes, but I trust you will be able to use your knowledge for a better purpose than just discriminating in furniture. The simpler your furniture the less mental work you will need to think of it. That gives your thoughts so much more time for happier work and ideas," replied Miss Miller.
"I see a tree over in that little dell that looks as if it had nuts growing on it," said Hilda.
"I guess it has, for it is a beech tree," replied the Guide. "Can you describe any of its points?"
"We have gathered beech-nuts every year, Miss Miller, and Mrs. Sherwood and mother have pickled them. Umph! but they taste good in winter!" said Zan.
"I have never tasted them but I have heard of the delicious flavour when eaten with cold meats," replied Miss Miller.
"I can tell a beech from another tree by its leaves, but I don't know any of its growing points," added Zan.
"Well, the beech is not a very well-known tree—I mean it is not as commonly seen on the lawns, street-parquets, or parks, as the oak, maple, or elm. A beech tree often grows to be a hundred feet high and is from three to eight feet thick. Some have had a diameter of eleven feet. The bark is smooth, ash-coloured. The timber is fine grained and the roots of the tree do not go deep down, but spread out underneath the surface of the ground. The foliage of the beeches I have seen are purple, silver, and red. The name to designate the kind of beech tree is given by the colour of the leaves."
"There, that's ten trees!" called Nita.
"No, that only makes nine?" contradicted Jane.
The girls counted on their fingers and found there had been nine trees described so that they could always tell at a glance what the tree was.
"I am going to choose the tenth tree myself," said Miss Miller.
"Yes, yes, do!" cried the girls, in chorus.
"Well, I am going to select an elm. You won't see it here," laughed the teacher, as every head turned looking for the elm tree. "I am going to tell you about it and then see which of you can be first in identifying it by my description."
"That will be heaps of fun—I think that will be better than the way we have done!" exclaimed Elena.
The others felt much the same way, but said nothing as Miss Miller began.
"Our American elm, or white elm, is a majestic tree with long pendulous branches. The trunk grows from three to five feet through, and the tree's height is from fifty to seventy feet. The main trunk grows straight naked, until it towers above its neighbours. It then divides into two primary branches which ascend gradually and subdivide into spreading boughs. These again subdivide into smaller twigs, and the twigs into leaves.
"As the limbs grow out into smaller branches they bend in the most graceful curves, and the beautiful foliage gives a dense shade. The leaves are short-stalked, oval-shape, with irregular veins. The Elm flowers in April before its leaves begin to shoot. The timber is tough, strong and not easy to manipulate in cabinet work, therefore is not in such demand for this purpose."
"I believe I can pick an elm after that lesson," said Elena thoughtfully.
"Well, girls, we must get back to camp, but we will see who is the first to find an elm."
Returning to the Bluff, Miss Miller directed the operations for the night. Dinner was welcomed by all, as the bath and tramp through the woods had created a voracious appetite.
"I will build a fire on the lower ledge of rock where the smoke won't annoy us. In locating a spot for a fire-place it is always advisable to see to the comfort of the camp, for the wind may veer at any time and blow the smoke into the faces of the campers. If you can find a place with a natural shield to act as a screen, you obviate this disagreeable feature."
The girls stood about watching the Guide arrange her fire implements. She looked up and, seeing them unoccupied, said, "Zan, suppose you and Nita run to the house for the pans we left in the cupboard. Jane and Elena will go down to Bill's for a loaf of bread, won't you, dears? Hilda can help me with the fire."
"Dear me! Miss Miller, why don't you send some one besides me with Zan? I am too tired!" whined Nita, peevishly.
"I have spoken, but you girls can act as you see fit!"
"All right, then; Zan, you take Hilda with you and I'll help Miss Miller," replied Nita.
Miss Miller began picking out the driest leaves and twigs while the girls stood uncertain of how to act.
"Well, why don't you start?" cried Nita to Zan.
"Waitin' for you!" said Zan laconically.
"Why, Hilda's going with you—I'm going to stay!"
"I must be rattled then, for I sure heard Miss Miller say that you and I were to go to the house," returned Zan, sitting down on a stone.
"But I am too tired and so Hilda's going with you." And Nita began to grow irritable.
"Miss Miller is Guide and I was elected Big Chief by all of you. Nita, you're Little Chief and in my absence you have to take my place. Now, I'm goin' down to Bill's and see if I can find any more strawberries for supper, and so I shall have to let you take my place going to the house. You can select any one of the other girls you want to go with you," said Zan, with finality.
Miss Miller had to bend low over the wood pile to keep her face from being seen. In fact, she had to hold her hand so close over her mouth that her face was crimson. Zan, without a backward look, started off at a brisk trot down the slope toward Sherwood's cottage.
"Hold on, Zan, we're coming with you!" shouted Jane and Elena.
That left Hilda standing sulkily watching her three friends while Nita went inside the tent apportioned to her use. Hilda turned to the Guide and caught a glimpse of her face. With a smile creeping into her own face she ran over to Miss Miller.
"Aren't you awful mad?" wondered Hilda.
"No, dearie, this is just what I expected when I suggested that Nita accompany Zan on the walk. It is merely another 'dish-wash' lesson in another form, but Nita hasn't had it applied to her individual need as Zan and Jane have. If she rises bravely to the call she will have her blessing hereafter."
"Oh, Miss Miller, how clever you are! I hope I will 'rise' to my call when it comes!" sighed Hilda, her admiration shining from her eyes.
The Guide laughed merrily as she replied, "I would rather no one else heard of my little plot—just keep it a secret!"
"I will, indeed, I will!" promised Hilda eagerly. Then, "What had I better do—help you at camp or go to the house?"
"Well, you see it is this way. I am only Guide. I tell you what I think ought to be done and Zan, as Big Chief, orders the camp. She has exactly the right idea of government and she will make a splendid organiser some day. I am so pleased at the attitude she took just now for Nita is her friend and she did not permit personality to interfere with duty. I also am delighted to find how she grasps the meaning of Woodcraft and hope this little lesson will prove beneficial to us all."
"Well, Zan said for Nita to take with her any of the girls she chose. Jane and Elena have gone to Sherwoods so Nita cannot choose any one but me."
"And has Nita gone?" queried the Guide, giving a look toward the tents.
"Why—n-oo!" returned perplexed Hilda. In another moment, however, light dawned and she smiled again. "I see! You will wait for Nita to make the first move."
Miss Miller nodded her head affirmatively and knelt down on the rock where she intended building her fire. Hilda waited.
"Please hand me those two green logs, dear—just behind me," asked the Guide.
Hilda took up one log after the other and gave them to Miss Miller, who placed them carefully in position.
"Now, watch me, Hilda, and then you can see how to build a good fire-place."
The logs were placed so that they formed a "V" with the wide part about twelve inches apart. As the logs were about three feet long and six to eight inches thick, their position left a three-cornered hollow between.
"Now those two forked saplings."
Hilda found the required articles which Miss Miller had cut down with the hatchet on the tramp that afternoon. They were straight young trees with the first branches forming the forks. The leaves and slender twigs had been lopped off leaving a stick of about four feet in length and having two sharp forks at the top. These saplings Miss Miller now chopped off at the bottom until she had formed a sharp spike on each end. She carefully prodded with one until she found a crevice in the rock where the point could enter. Then she bore down with all her strength and drove the stick into the ground.
"Why, you've got it close to the point of the logs!" exclaimed Hilda wonderingly.
The Guide laughed and took up the second sapling. This she drove in to the soil at the opposite end of the logs. The forks were broadside to the length of the logs. Next, a stout but supple willow twig was selected from a small bundle, and laid across the top between the forks.
"Oh, my! Now I see what it is for!" cried Hilda, clapping her hands delightedly.
The utter ignoring of her presence and the clapping of Hilda's hands proved too much for Nita's disposition and she came out of the tent and walked down to the fire-place.
"What shall I do toward supper?" asked she sulkily.
"Oh, I thought Zan asked you to go to the house for her! Haven't you started?" asked Miss Miller in surprise.
Nita shrugged her shoulders and watched the interesting construction of the camp-fire.
"I'm too tired! Let Hilda go."
"But Hilda is helping me."
"Well, then let Zan go when she gets back. I'll start to spread a table-cloth on the flat rock over there shall I?"
"I really cannot change Zan's orders, you know. She is Big Chief, and I am only Guide."
"That's all nonsense, Miss Miller, and you know it! You have the right to order us to do just what you think best," snapped Nita.
"You're just a little bit mistaken about the law and order of a Woodcraft camp. Each one obeys!"
"Then Zan has failed!" exulted Nita. "She was told to go to the house and she went to Bill's instead. I should have loved to pick strawberries as well as she!"
"I hardly think you can call Zan's act one of disobedience. It was rather one of discipline," remarked the Guide.
"Who did she pretend to discipline—me?" sneered Nita.
"That had best be asked each one of herself. I can ask myself and truthfully say, "Yes, Zan has given me a good lesson in discipline for my future guidance.""
"Oh, pooh! You're only avoiding an unpleasant conversation with me! I know as well as any of you, that the whole plot is directed toward me. I wish to goodness I had never come with you!" And Nita flounced away in a temper.
"Why! Nita!" gasped Hilda in consternation, as she watched the retreating figure of her friend.
"Don't 'Nita' me! You're as thick with the rest as you can be! I always am selected to act as the scape-goat for anything you don't want to do yourself!" Nita flung back at Hilda.
The Guide kept on with the fire-building as if nothing had interrupted the lesson Hilda was receiving. She selected the driest bark and twigs in the heap of wild-wood and heaped them loosely in the pit formed by the two logs.
"Now, Hilda, you can fill the kettle from the spring up above here, and slip it over the willow until it hangs in the centre over the fire-place."
"I never knew what fun a camp-fire could be! Will it burn, do you think?"
Miss Miller laughed. "It wouldn't be a credit to me if it didn't!"
"But I can't see why you didn't lay the logs parallel?"
"I'll tell you. We have a small sauce-pan, a medium sized frying pan and a rather large pot. Now, the small pan goes on the narrow end, the frying pan on the centre where it fits, and the pot on the wider place. Then too, we can poke wood in and rake debris out of this wide mouth while the embers remain piled up at the corner inside. The judgment in using green wood comes from experience. Green wood does not burn, but reflects the heat of a fire, so that you get concentrated heat from embers piled up in a pit surrounded by green logs. Also, the top of green wood will hold pans and pots firmer than stones will, and a slippery stove is anything but desirable when potatoes are boiling or fat sizzling in a frying pan."
"Here comes the three girls! And I haven't done anything toward the supper," cried Hilda, running to the basket where the cutlery and dishes were kept.
"The loveliest berries, Miss Miller! Bill had some all ready for us and Mrs. Sherwood baked some of the dandiest biscuits when she did her own!" shouted Zan, as she climbed up the grade.
"How delicious they look!" exclaimed the Guide as she inspected the brown dainties.
"What's that?" asked Elena, spying the camp-fire.
The girls ran over and Miss Miller had to demonstrate the interesting construction. This over, Zan looked about and asked, "Didn't Nita get back yet? But say, who went with her?"
Not a word came in reply and Zan immediately comprehended matters. "I'll go now—will some one come with me?"
The two other girls offered and Hilda looked at Miss Miller. For answer, the Guide said, "Any two of you can help Zan. One will do for me."
"Let me stay now, Hilda, you were here when the fire-place was made," begged Elena.
"Zan, I think it may be wiser to get what is absolutely necessary to-night from Sherwood's. You have already done more than your share of duty and another walk to the house and back is taxing the physical too much at present. A trip to the farmer's cottage will not over-tire any of you," suggested Miss Miller.
The girls sighed with relief, and started for the slope. When they returned to the Bluff with the required articles, the camp-fire had burned up and deposited a pile of red-hot embers in the pit to cook by. The potatoes were boiling noisily and a lump of butter was melting in the pan. The cloth had been spread and Elena was hulling berries.
"Where's Nita?" Zan whispered to the Guide.
"In her tent. She has not appeared since her last display of temper."
"Had I better go and tell her supper will soon be ready?" queried Zan.
"No—leave her absolutely alone. If she comes out of her own accord, the humiliation of accepting food she refused to help prepare, ought to humble her enough. But, Zan, to-morrow at our Council, we must speak of discipline and take up the matter of punishment and fines as outlined in the Manual. I had hoped this would be unnecessary in a small camp such as ours seemed to promise. However, all future mutiny must be provided for."
The supper ready, Miss Miller cheerily took her place and the four girls sat down about the cloth, leaving a vacancy where Nita should have been.
Before any one had had time to take up their napkin Miss Miller spoke.
"One thing I consider of paramount importance in any circle, or alone. It is not obligatory to any of you, merely a suggestion. I am not aware of the religious belief of any of you and it is not necessary to inform me, or discuss it with each other. I have found that discussion of religious beliefs generally leads to a difference of opinions that eventually create a bitter strife. True religion has no enmity in its teachings but produces harmony and happiness for all.
"I think that any one can find God by simply following the highest leading of their conscience. Gratitude to the Great Spirit is one of those leadings, but few take time to follow that light. I wish to ask that I be permitted to follow my sense of gratitude for all the good bestowed this day, and before partaking of the evening meal, I will close my eyes in silent prayer to the Giver of all my blessings. Each one of you can do as you feel is right about this idea, but do not speak or disturb any other's communion. In the morning, when we are gathered for breakfast, I shall ask for the same silent interval, to give gratitude for protection during darkness and sleep."
As she concluded, Miss Miller quietly closed her eyes and remained absolutely silent for several minutes. The girls looked at her and at each other without saying a word, then one after another closed her eyes and also gave thanks to God.
The Guide opened her eyes and waited reverently for her companions to finish their private thanksgiving and communion. Then, as all had concluded and opened their eyes again, she drew attention to a nearby tree by saying, "Hungry, Nita?"
Hiding, with a shame-faced expression in her eyes, Nita stood back of a tree near the supper. She advanced at the question.
"Your place is waiting, dear," added the Guide.
With an air of bravado, Nita sat down and began telling of a boy-cousin who had visited in the Rocky Mountains and had built a fire-place exactly like the one Miss Miller constructed.
The other girls seemed abashed at Nita's presence for a short time, but the Guide replied to the girl's hurried talk and soon the others were drawn into the general exchange of fun and story-telling.
"I'll wash the dishes," eagerly offered Nita, as the Guide rose to visit the fire and see if the water was boiling.
"All right, Nita, then the three girls who did double duty by going back and forth twice to Bill's can lay down on the moss and rest," assented Miss Miller, and that was all that was said to Nita about her habit of getting out of anything she was not inclined to do. The girls took their cue from the Guide and rolled over on the grass and watched.
"Elena, after the cloth is shaken fold it carefully in the right creases. That keeps it smooth and tidy. If it is folded regardless of ironed folds, it soon looks mussy and soiled. I will take charge of the left-overs from supper—thank goodness there isn't much—and Nita will wash and wipe the dishes."
The atmosphere of the camp resumed a serenity fully appreciated by all, for anger displayed by one made all wretched.
"Girls, we will try to get up at the hour we want to rise every morning this summer—five o'clock. It is now seven-thirty. Whenever you are ready to retire say so and we will sing a camp-fire lullaby," said Miss Miller, as the girls sat about the dying fire too tired to talk.
"I'm ready for bed now," ventured Elena.
"I feel as stiff as anything! My back feels as if it would break!" added Hilda.
The Guide laughed. "That's from swimming. You'll soon get over it if you practice every day."
"I hope to goodness I can swim to-morrow. The way I feel now, I should say I couldn't move in the water!" laughed Elena.
Nita said nothing but she must have felt as lame as the other beginners; as all seemed to long for bed, Miss Miller rose and smothered the few red coals by covering them with dead grey ashes.
"Never leave a camp-fire with a spark of fire in it. At early dawn, or at least past midnight, fire always revives and, unless its flame has been choked by outside means, it flares up and consumes anything in its reach."
"Miss Miller, I wonder why it is that, without apparent fuel or fanning, fire will renew itself during the wee hours of the night!" exclaimed Zan.
"I never heard, but it is an interesting suggestion, Zan. We'll have Elena make a note of that in her book so that we will remember to ask that question at Headquarters when we visit there."
"Do you ever expect to see them?" asked Hilda, meaning the officers of the Woodcraft Indians.
"Why, certainly! Don't you?" returned Miss Miller.
"I didn't know but that we'd be a nuisance. So many members call, I suppose," replied Hilda, with consideration.
"Hilda, that's very good of you. If every member was as thoughtful of the time of the Founders, how much better it would be."
No one stirred that night, for every one was healthily tired and repose was natural. Even Miss Miller set a small alarm clock to awake her at five, for she thought she might over-sleep during the cool hours of early morning.
At five, the ringing of the alarm awakened every one; while the girls yawned and wished it was midnight, the Guide jumped out of bed and looked at the wonderful appearance of Nature. Dew-drops sparkled in the rising sun, and the Falls sent forth a new note in its musical repertoire. Even the grey surface of rock seemed to be of warmer and softer material than it had been in the twilight.
"Girls! Up—up—up! The day is glorious!" called the Guide.
"So is the bed!" returned Hilda, yawning aloud.
"I just heard a crow laughing at you!" retorted Miss Miller.
"'He who laughs last laughs best,' I've heard said!" came from a smothered voice in Hilda's tent.
By this time the girls were thoroughly aroused and soon the talk consequent upon beginning a new day, came from the tents.
"Miss Miller, are you going to take a dip this morning before breakfast?" called Zan.
"No, I've already used the modern wash-basin by the creek," replied the Guide.
Nita and Elena came out and found Miss Miller brushing her hair before a tiny mirror that had been hung from a stump of a bough near her tent.
"Where's the basin you spoke of?" asked Hilda, also coming out.
"Over there by that laurel bush: I think it is Tennessee marble—it is veined exactly like it," said the Guide.
The girls ran over laughingly and found a great round stone partly in the water, and in the top of the stone, a nicely hollowed place about the size of an ordinary wash-basin. At one side a tiny hollow made an admirable soap-dish.
"How did you get water into it?" cried Nita.
"You'll find a tomato can near the bush!" replied Miss Miller.
"That's easy—but how under the sun did you empty out the water afterward?" called Zan.
"I didn't carry the basin to the woods and turn it over, I assure you," laughed Miss Miller; "I took a handful of dried moss and let it soak up the used water. You'll see how nicely it absorbs the moisture. Then take a handful of clean moss and wash the basin out."
"You are too fastidious for me—I'll wash in the brook!" said Zan, comparing the amount of work necessary in using the rock-basin, to the easier way of dipping in the creek.
"Guess we'll choose the brook!" said Hilda.
Miss Miller watched the five girls bending over and joyously splashing water at each other, as well as over their own faces and necks, and thought to herself: "Yes, I took a lot of trouble to use that basin, but they will always remember that dry moss will soak up moisture if a dry condition is required."
For breakfast that morning, the Guide mixed some batter for pancakes. The girls heard the beating of the spoon and gathered about curiously.
"Batter cakes, girls. I'll mix them this time, and one of you can watch them bake. The others can look after other work. I'll prepare some cocoa, if you like."
"Oh, yes! We all like cocoa, Miss Miller," said Hilda.
"Here comes Bill Sherwood—he's got something!" announced Elena, who had been standing on the rock above the fire.
The others craned their necks and Zan added, "Bet anything it's something good to eat!"
And so it was. Bill bobbed his head smilingly to the girls and offered Miss Miller a plate covered with a home-spun towel.
"The old lady fried some spring chicken for breakfast an' we said we rickoned it might taste good t' yuh—so here it is!"
"Broiled chicken! But, Mr. Sherwood, you must allow us to reimburse you for the chickens. It would not be right for us to eat your broilers!" said Miss Miller, deeply obliged.
"We likes t' make th' camp enjyable t' yuh all! Mebbe you'll git straightened out so's yuh kin prepare your own things pritty soon," explained Bill.
"Why, we cooked supper last night—and a fine one it was," said Zan, pointing to the camp-fire.
Bill's lower jaw dropped and he stood staring at the novel cook-stove. "Laws me! That beats th' Dutch!" ejaculated he.
The girls all laughed and he went over and watched the kettle singing and the batter cakes baking. "I'll have t' send my ole woman up t' see these stunts!" said he, starting off again.
Batter cakes tasted fine with broiled chicken done to a crispy brown, and cocoa was just the right drink with which to conclude the jolly breakfast party.
Mrs. Sherwood had not yet visited the camp but she put in an appearance soon after breakfast and Zan introduced her to all of those present. She inspected the fire-place and looked sceptically at the cots, saying, "How kin yuh rest on them hard things. Now, I have to have feather beds all year 'round. And it's s'prisin' how my bones rest! I never kin go visitin' where folks haven't feathers!"
Miss Miller felt a deep sympathy for the poor deluded woman, and wondered if it would be possible to convert her to the idea of using a mattress and hair pillow in preference to feathers.
As their early visitor went back home, Zan said, "Fancy! feather-beds in this enlightened age!"
During breakfast, the girls commented upon the ability of the Guide to do anything and everything. As neither of the five girls had taken an interest in cooking while at home, the experience shown by the teacher, in preparing meals, astonished them.
Miss Miller tried to make everything she did an object lesson for the girls, so she mixed the simple batter for the cakes to show them how easy a matter a nicely browned cake really was. This, she deducted, would arouse a desire to know more of the cookery art. If she had selected a difficult dish to prepare the girls might have been frightened by the process of mixing many ingredients.
"I wish I could do some baking!" said Jane.
"Why not learn now—never a time like the present," said Miss Miller, smiling at the eager face.
"S'pose I burn something?"
"Then, try again. It is not with the first trial that we always meet success. Sometimes I have had to do a thing over and over before it was right," replied the Guide.
"It seems like an imposition to ask you to show us how to cook after all the other things you are doing for us," remarked Jane.
"Sometimes a little gratitude expressed in consideration for all one has done before, urges the donor to greater effort. And both giver and receiver are blessed accordingly," said Miss Miller.
The girls were thoughtful, so she continued, "I am so glad to find you appreciative of the little I am doing that I am eager to do more; the lesson in cookery will be one of my expressions of love toward you."
"Maybe we can all watch and learn how to do the biscuits," suggested Zan.
"Of course; as many of you as wish to take the test in cookery can begin this morning," replied Miss Miller.
"Right away?" clamoured a few of the girls.
"Hardly; I thought we would clear up the tents, do the chores, and try the use of the hatchet and knife; when it gets near time for noon-day meal we can prepare some fish for dinner. Hereafter, I think it wise to have dinner at twelve and supper at six. That gives us a long afternoon and a pleasant evening."
"We're ready for anything—where shall we tramp to-day to use the hatchet and knife?" said Hilda.
"We'll not tramp—we'll stay right here and build a cupboard to hold our edibles as they should be kept."
"A cupboard! What Humph!" and other exclamations showed the surprise the Guide's words gave.
"Are we to chop down a few trees and lop off branches to secure the necessary lumber for the closet?" asked Nita, wondering if the idea would prove irksome or unpleasant.
"Not at all! I may decide to make lumbermen of you before the season ends but I'll not undertake it while you all feel so disinclined to do anything except what your idle fancy suggests. It will take a better understanding of the Law before you start on timber work."
The Guide spoke in a joking way but her words were aimed at Nita's habit of laziness and shirking duties.
"I wonder what Daddy would say if he could see us sawing wood and hammering nails?" said Zan, chuckling.
"My father would say, 'Here, Jane, don't spoil a perfectly good nail! A girl can't strike it on the head, ever!'"
"I never held a saw in my life," commented Elena.
"Can you saw wood?" asked Zan of the Guide with such vim that the others laughed heartily.
"Is that some of your slang or was it fact?" asked Miss Miller.
"I meant it—but it is slang, isn't it?" laughed Zan.
"Well, I'll reply—yes, I am very fond of carpentry. At home, I have a book-shelf, taborette, lamp-stand, and many little articles that I have made at different times."
"Well, come on, friends—let's get busy on Miss Miller's cupboard," said Hilda.
"Better finish the camp work first. If you girls think you can spare Zan and me, we will go to the house and find some suitable boards. I saw the tools necessary in the tool-house yesterday," Miss Miller said.
"Why, yes, we have lots of good boards in the cellar, and besides, there are some pieces of moulding and quarter-round in the hay-loft. The boys stored it there some years ago when they wanted to build some rooms in the loft. They never found time, as every day had some adventure for us when we were first here," explained Zan.
"And you girls can come to the house and help us carry the material to the Bluff, as soon as you finish the dishes and beds," said Miss Miller.
Zan and the Guide were soon in the low-ceiled cellar sorting pieces of lumber from a huge heap left there by the contractors when the old house was renovated. A number of desirable pieces were selected by Miss Miller who said, "We can take these pieces up to the back porch and take them to camp whenever we have need of them. I think we can make a number of articles that will prove useful."
"My! but you have some long boards there!" said Zan, her head on one side as she surveyed the load the Guide had piled up for use.
"We won't need many to-day for the cupboard, and we need not worry about the future," replied she, smiling.
"Then why not leave them down here?" asked Zan.
"I am not so comfortable down in this dark place with no air, that I would want to call often. We are here now, so the extra lumber can be taken to the upper air when the girls get here."
In a short time, Zan heard the girls' voices and she ran to the side garden to show them the way to the cellar from the back area. A trap-door folded down over the area steps when the entrance was not in use, and opened outward and fastened by means of hooks and screw-eyes to the arbour built over it.
Miss Miller was waiting for the girls and, after they came carefully down the steep stone steps, said, "Here are some boards that Zan and I want piled on the back porch. The ones for our cupboard we will leave to the last."
"I'll tell you what! Shall we tie the cupboard boards in a bundle and drag them across the grass to the Bluff?" cried Zan, as the idea flashed into her thought.
"Ha! Learning to use your thinking-machine, eh?" laughed the Guide. "But think again, unless you are pining to haul burdens."
"Let's get out of this vault with the boards and talk of machines upstairs!" said Hilda, stooping to take a long board.
Elena was close behind her and she also picked up a plank. A pile of kindling wood lay in Hilda's path and she found Nita and Jane in her way if she turned aside, so she endeavoured to climb over the wood. This would have been all right if the ceiling of the cellar had not been so low; as it was, the end of the board that tipped way up in front and down in the back, struck overhead, and threw Hilda backward. The board fell on the kindlings while Hilda stumbled over Elena, who was intent upon getting her plank to the cellar-door. Hilda's sudden impact made Elena drop her burden. Jane dodged the plank but Nita had no time, so the end of the board came down on her toe.
"Wouw! wough! Oo-hoo!" yelled Nita, dancing on one foot while she held the other foot in both hands.
Elena had bumped her head on some short boards Zan was about to carry out, and the expressions on both Elena's and Nita's faces were so funny that the others had to laugh although they immediately apologised for the lack of self-control.
"Well, I just guess you wouldn't see anything funny in your feet!" whined Nita, still holding her toe.
"We were not laughing at your funny feet, but at your ridiculous face!" retorted Jane.
"Perhaps we will all use more caution in our next attempt to get out of this," ventured Miss Miller, skirting about the girls and reaching the area steps with her lumber.
As no further sympathy was vouchsafed the two girls, they soon followed their companions up from the cellar. After all the extra lumber was piled up on the back porch, Miss Miller invited the labourers to rest under the front oak tree.
"As Zan was saying in the cellar, the next thing is to get our boards over to the Bluff," said Miss Miller, when the cool breeze had refreshed the girls.
"Zan said to tie them up and drag them over! Is there any difference between boards and bundles being carted by Nancy?" asked Hilda.
"Of course not! I forgot!" admitted Zan.
Miss Miller laughed at the relief shown in the faces around her. Also, at the progress the girls were making in the use of their thoughts.
"Dear, dear! That means some one will have to get Nancy!" continued Zan, after a minute's pause.
"But your private wire from the house to the cottage is not out of commission, is it?" asked the Guide.
"No-oo! but how will Nancy get here unless Bill leads her?" wondered Zan.
"Bill has to visit the garden and out-houses every morning, he said yesterday, to see if there is anything wrong. Why not ascertain on the 'phone if he has left his home. If not, he can ride Nancy over and we can use her going back; at the Bluff we can let her go down to her stall alone."
Before any comments could be given, Zan had jumped up and was running toward the house to call up Bill.
While waiting for the farmer to bring Nancy, the Band members went to the tool-house and selected what material might be needed at camp. In one corner of the place stood a partly demolished express wagon, such as children play with. Miss Miller saw it in a glance. It also happened that Zan saw it.
"Say, Miss Miller, won't the dragging boards cut up all the grass? Besides, Nancy can't climb over stone walls and snake fences!" declared she.
"What would you advise?" came from Miss Miller.
"Take the wheels of that broken wagon and tie two under the front of the lumber and two under the back end. Then, Nancy can go around by the road and up to Sherwood's cottage, where we can let her drag it up the slope."
"Splendid! Zan, you may consider yourself promoted into the class of advanced thinkers!" commended the Guide.
Zan smiled with pleasure and Hilda remarked in a teasing voice, "Hump! just see Zan preen her feathers!"
The wagon was quickly taken apart and pieces of wire found in the closet which was a catch-all. By the time Bill came up the road with Nancy, the impromptu vehicle was ready to hitch to the horse.
Bill chuckled at sight of the dray, and tipped his old farm hat on one side of his head. "That there's anuther patent o' th' teacher's, hain't ut?" chuckled he.
"Nop! This time you've got to hand me the bouquet!" smiled Zan, proudly.
"Wall, yuh gals'll all be comin' along fine, pritty soon, with such a smart lady as Miss Miller," commented Bill.
He watched the party drive Nancy down the road with the funny wheeled apparatus rattling after, and then went on to inspect the gardens and out-houses.