Kitabı oku: «The Woodcraft Girls in the City», sayfa 15
CHAPTER SIXTEEN – THE ADIRONDACK CAMP
When the girls returned to the city the day following the Fourth, they heard that Mrs. Remington and Anna, the governess, were going to assist them in Woodcraft that Summer, and incidentally look after Teddy and Tammy, the babies of Little Lodge.
Mrs. Baker was invited but she declined as she had already arranged to start a boys’ camp for her sons at the farm. All the members of Wako Tribe were invited but many of them could not go, as other plans had been made by mothers. So on the day of departure, Miss Miller, the other ladies, and Brownies, with the five old members and some of the new ones, boarded the express.
It was a long wearisome ride but the wonders expected when all should reach the mountains buoyed them up. As Zan said: “It was just like journeying hopefully through earth’s tribulations for the joy and peace waiting in Heaven.”
It was dark when the campers reached the Huberts’ place and not much could be seen, but early in the morning every girl was out and exclaiming at the beauty of the forest camp. The lake was a short walk from the long cabin, and a swim was the first thing on the programme. After that a hearty breakfast, and a hike through the woods.
As they merrily ran hither and thither in the cool bowers of green, the Brownies gathered flowers and leaves. Billy brought Miss Miller a sprig of green and she cried:
“Ha! Who knows what this is – don’t tell them, Billy!”
“Do you know – it smells like mint of some sort?” said Nita, sniffing at the green leaves.
“It’s sassafras. The juice of these leaves flavours the chewing gum Zan told us of in her essay,” said the Guide.
“Then it is used for candy, too,” added Billy.
“Yes, and peppermint and birch found in these woods can be used for flavouring, too,” said Mrs. Remington.
“Did I hear you say we had all the makings of some candy the first rainy day?” laughed Zan.
“Having the flavouring at hand – why not?” retorted Jane, well knowing the Brownies would take up the cry.
Even as she turned to nudge Billy, a drop of rain splashed down upon her face. She looked up and saw a heavy cloud sweeping over the sun and the others turned and looked also.
“Run everybody, or we’ll have to swim back!” cried Zan.
“Run for the house – not for the camp! Remember that sassafras candy!” merrily shouted Jane.
So the first day at Woodchuck Camp ended with a candy-pull and sticky hands and faces of Wako Tribe members.
No one could settle down to any planned Woodcraft work that first week in the Adirondacks as the call of the forest and lake proved irresistible. But the second week the novelty had worn off enough to allow the girls to start some active work.
“We must have a good cabin to hold our tools and work during the Summer – what do you say to building one at once?” asked Miss Miller.
“Oh, yes, let’s!” replied the girls who had built the cabin at Wickeecheokee Camp.
“Won’t it be awfully hard work?” queried Anne.
“And so senseless when you have tents and a house near enough to place things,” added Eleanor, peevishly. “It will be more fun to swing in a hammock and read stories.”
“One can read books in the Winter but who wants to do it in camp?” scorned Hilda.
“My mother sent me a box of novels and I shall take it easy and read – you girls can do as you like,” retorted Eleanor.
Miss Miller heard the conversation and was on guard at once. “Who is your favourite author, Eleanor?”
“I have so many, I hardly can tell,” said the girl, not aware of the Guide’s intentions to draw her out.
“What style of book do you prefer? Travel, history, or love stories?”
“Oh, love, to be sure! The kind that are run serially in the ‘Cosmo’ Magazine. I adore them and the moment the books are out I buy them to read again. I can devour the love scenes again and again, and enjoy them!” sighed Eleanor, sentimentally.
“When that box of books arrives, Eleanor, will you allow me to look them over first?”
“Of course you may, but I can’t see why you would want to read them first – you couldn’t finish them all in a month!” laughed Eleanor.
“I have no desire to read them, but I must see what you intend bringing into camp. From your words, I should say the books are unworthy the name. I have long taken up the crusade against the trash that some magazines publish as it is unhealthy for young people. There are scores of other periodicals just as bad but they haven’t the wealth or influence to advertise and put over their injurious reading that this one you mention has.”
“Why, how queer you are, Miss Miller! Everyone says the authors of those stories make fortunes out of everything written!” Eleanor defended.
“Ah, yes! What will be their report when the Day of Accounts comes and we each have to look at the facts bared by Truth?” sighed the Guide walking away.
Eleanor smiled ironically and looked at Zan. “Isn’t she the funniest thing!”
“No, we all know Miss Miller’s great ambition to provide clean wholesome literature for young people and Dad seconds her enthusiastically in her work. She wrote an article to the New York papers showing how subtle and poisonous was the moral and mental perversion of the sex stories so flagrantly advertised by publishers who only thought of gain and notoriety. But the newspapers are not courageous enough to throw the gauntlet down to these publishers. Some of them wrote back that the concerns mentioned spent large sums advertising in their daily papers. So Miss Miller has to try some other method to open the eyes of the parents and guardians to the danger threatening young people.”
Eleanor stared at Zan and wondered, as half of it was Greek to her understanding. Miss Miller was heard ordering the carpenters to different duties, however, so Zan ran over to join them.
“The Brownies can find birch bark and make the ornaments to decorate the cabin,” said Anna, as the Guide apportioned each group of girls to tasks.
“Moreover, they can remove the large sections of bark from this down-timber for the girls to use on the outside of the cabin after the posts are up,” said Mrs. Remington.
And that is how the name “Boss” began for the Guide.
“I’ll guarantee to have bark, totems, shields, and other ornaments ready for use when the cabin needs them,” added Mrs. Remington, calling the Brownies to go with Anna and her.
All that day the silent places of the forest resounded with sawing, chopping and hammering, but now and then a hot and tired girl would throw herself down on the moss to cool.
At luncheon that day, Mrs. Remington whispered to Miss Miller: “This work will take much of the softness out and leave them in good shape for other sport.”
“Exactly!” replied the Guide, looking about at the hungry, eager faces of the members.
A call for “Boss” from Tim, who was assisting in the hauling of the logs, interrupted further comment at that time.
“Miss Miller, the young ladies don’t want to dig a hole where the logs will rest. I tells them they must do it to have a firm foundation. Fact, I said, a hull cellar ought to be dug to keep the floor dry and sweet-smellin’,” said Tim.
“Yes, a cellar must be excavated if only a foot, or two feet deep. Otherwise the floor will soon be mouldy and damp.”
So that afternoon, the girls dug and shovelled and worked on a pit about a foot and a half deep and as large as the floor was planned to be. The four logs forming the foundation square were well set before the horn sounded for rest that night.
“Didn’t the time fly?” asked May, in surprise.
“It always does when one is pleasantly employed,” added Mrs. Hubert, complimenting the Tribe on the work accomplished.
The next day the cross-beams of the floor were laid, and the four corner posts erected and firmly nailed into place. At the luncheon that noon, plans were made for the siding and roofing the cabin. That afternoon, the ridgepole and rafters of the roof were set and the uprights of the walls nailed in securely. When Mrs. Hubert blew the horn for “Quits” the girls looked longingly at the skeleton of their cabin.
“I’d like to tack a few sheets of tar paper on the outside before stopping work,” ventured Elena.
“Not if you are a member of this union. The rest of us will strike if you are permitted to work over-time,” retorted the Guide, to the amusement of Tim who thought the “Boss” a wonder.
The next day the paper roofing and siding was nailed on and then the girls began the interesting work of fitting on the great slabs of bark. This had to be carefully done as any rough handling or nailing cracked the sections.
By evening the cabin was covered and looked very rustic with its forest blanket on sides and roof. But Tim said the wide chinks between sheets of bark must be filled in, and this must be done with plaster.
“Where can we find any?” wondered Zan.
“I’ll show you in the morning,” replied Miss Miller.
So in the morning they went down to the shore and the Guide dug a pit where clay was found at a depth of ten inches. This was worked well with water until it was the proper consistency and then pailfuls of the mortar were carried to the cabin. The Brownies acted as hod-carriers while the girls did the mason work. Now and then a Brownie was allowed to fill in chinks near the ground and rub it down between the bark.
This work was great fun and was finished by noon. Then the question of windows and door came up.
“I have two sashes in the garage left over from the addition built to the house last year,” suggested Tim.
“Then we will have to make real frames?” asked Jane.
“No’m! They slides along grooves and is easier to shet when a shower comes up. If you had pulleys and fittin’s like city houses they’d always be ketchin’ and out of order,” said Tim.
So the donation of two nice windows was gratefully accepted and the extra time saved was given to the door. This was a difficult thing to make as real hinges and a catch had to be fitted. Before the saddle and strike were done, the girls felt that doors were indeed an invention of the evil one to make folks want to swear. Fingers were bruised, and heads bumped as each girl declared she could do it – it was so easy!
But the door was finally hung – with Tim’s help – and then the cabin was ready for furniture. The Brownies had carried in all the packing cases saved from the freight, and Mrs. Hubert had a remnant of pantasote in the loft of the house, left from the covering of her window seats.
While the Brownies made and painted totems and crude decorations, the girls made and upholstered box-furniture, and in a week’s time, the cabin was ready for company. The visitors in this case consisted of Mrs. Hubert and Tim’s wife.
“This cabin beats the one we made on the farm all to smithereens!” exulted Zan, admiring the inside and then stepping out to compliment the Little Lodge on the floral decorations and Woodcraft tokens they had made.
“We can keep all our Woodcraft stuff in here and when one of us wants to be alone she can sit in here and read or snooze,” added Jane.
“I’ll put the box of books in here and you girls can help yourselves,” said Eleanor, generously.
“How about it – did they come?” asked Zan, curiously.
“Tim said the box was at the station and he is going to bring it in the morning,” replied Eleanor.
Miss Miller was right on the spot when the box was taken from the automobile and Eleanor brought the hammer and driver to pry off the top boards. As expected, the Guide found trashy paper novels inside and a note from Eleanor’s mother. This the girl read aloud.
“Dear Ella:
As you are camping where rain and dirt will spoil a good book I bought a lot from a 10-cent store and from a second-hand shop downtown. It won’t hurt if these do get wet, so don’t worry over them. I tried to buy your favourite authors – Lila Jane Lilly is one, isn’t she? And the Dutchie another. If the other girls want to read them, be generous and let them,“
– Lovingly,Mother.”
“Humph! I should say a thorough soaking of rain would improve these books vastly,” remarked the Guide as she gingerly turned the pages of the first few removed from the box. “In fact, if we could soak them back to pulp again and forever wash away the effects of the text, what a benefaction the world would have!”
“Are you jesting, Miss Miller?” wondered Eleanor.
“Jesting! At such criminal thoughts as these stories implant in the minds of adolescent girls and boys? Why, the woman who made such a fortune out of gullible young things ought to be condemned to purgatory – only we know there isn’t such a place!” fumed the Guide, righteously indignant.
“I’ve read most of her books and I never saw anything bad. They were grand – and full of wonderful romance!” defended Eleanor.
“If the ‘bad’ was exposed your mother wouldn’t have had you read them, and your appetite would have been improved. But so subtle is the viciousness of such stuff that you now don’t want to read a sweet wholesome story like ‘Pollyanna’ or similar girls’ books. Do you suppose a mortal with a craving for liquor or tobacco is satisfied with cold water or home-made bread? So it is with a perverted appetite for sex stories and thrills – you won’t content yourself with uplifting literature but demand more and more of the degrading kind!”
“But these books are not sex stuff!” cried Eleanor.
“Just as bad. And their influence is the same as that created by drink or dope.”
As the Guide spoke she looked through the remainder of the collection and sighed as she thought of the density of some parents. “Saving a few pence for fine clothing, and economising on reading for their children! Clothing the exterior with ‘fine feathers,’ and feeding the mind with swill! Considering money wasted on good reasonably priced books and squandering wholesale, the spiritual, moral, mental and physical fibre of their children! Never sparing a thought as to the ultimate effects of trashy books and ignoring the outcome of deteriorating sensations in the young because they are so anxious to add to a savings account for the future! Just as long as the book – white or yellow – (mattered not) kept the reader occupied and quiet for a time, that the mother might finish the extra frill on the schooldress or party costume.”
As Miss Miller concluded her excited vituperation on the prevalent disease of contagious novels, Eleanor was too angry to reply. Finally, however, she managed to say:
“If you had any decent story at camp I wouldn’t have sent for any books. But I hunted that first night and couldn’t see a single magazine or book.”
“If you had sought in the house you would have found a great bookcase full!” retorted Jane, angry at implied oversight.
“We-el, yes, I saw them afterward. While I was waiting for my box to come, I read a few,” admitted Eleanor.
“Well, what was it – did you like ’em?” asked Zan.
“Oh, I found one called ‘The Right Princess’ and another by the same author ‘The Opened Shutters,’ that were pretty good for kid stories,” said Eleanor, as if in apology.
“Kid story! Well, there are more grown-ups and parents enjoy those kind of books than kids, let me tell you!” said Jane.
“And you will find many more such books in that case, too, Eleanor,” added Mrs. Hubert.
“Yes, I noticed them. I thought I would start and read them if these didn’t get here soon. I did begin one last night!” confessed Eleanor.
“I wish you would read them instead of these and permit me to return these at once. I cannot have them in camp at all!” said Miss Miller.
It spoke well for Eleanor’s salvation and improvement that she agreed willingly to send back the books. But she hesitated to admit that she had found many books in the Hubert’s bookcase far more interesting than the paper-covered novels she had feasted upon hitherto.
The daily and hourly effect of associating with the right kind of girls, and hearing good and constructive ideas, were making an impression on this character so like many girls who are not aware of their short-comings. And the change was being remarked by those about her.
Miss Miller was too wise a Guide to draw attention to the efforts of the girl to be obliging and truthful like those about her, but she was careful to encourage and help Eleanor in every way she could.
As is fully told in the book written for the Little Woodcrafters, the girls spent July and August in happy Woodcraft ways, and by the end of August not only were results apparent in objects made, but the cheerfulness and health of the Tribe proved how contented and enjoyable had been the weeks at Woodchuck Camp.
Then came a letter from the Doctor saying that the men of the families planned to drive the cars to the mountains and spend Labour Day with the Tribe. Mrs. Baker and her camp of boys expected to come in the doctor’s car.
“Miss Miller, we want a Grand Council if they are all coming here. Why not invite other friends?” said Zan.
“The ride is too expensive by train, and few have cars, you must remember,” said the Guide.
“Well, then, let’s get up some new dances or games, anyway,” suggested Nita.
“Humph! That isn’t the same as having company!” grumbled Zan. But the spirit of entertaining replaced any feeling of complaint, and the girls were soon at work devising ways and means for a Woodcraft programme.
That evening Miss Miller took Zan and Nita aside and had a confidential talk with them. From the expression of their faces the secret was most pleasing, and during the mornings and evenings preceding Labour Day, the two girls were up in Huberts’ loft working on the secret plan. Miss Miller, too, was seen only at intervals, and it was found that a farmer from the village ten miles down the mountain-side had brought several young turkeys with the feathers still on. Then Billy found the feathers gone and the birds cooked for sandwiches, but where were those feathers?
The afternoon before the arrival of the visitors, when the Tribe had been called together to pronounce judgment on a new dance, Miss Miller began playing a mandolin. As the waltz sounded two figures came from the cabin. They represented Mr. and Mrs. Eagle. It was Zan and Nita dressed in the Eagle Dancer’s Dress ready to do the Eagle Dance.
The head-dress and edges of the dresses were bordered with the missing turkey feathers, and an edging of down as well as feathers wherever they could be artistically placed, made the two costumes most striking and gorgeous.
Then began the dance. The two eagles circled about each other in a fluttering courtship. Mr. Eagle summoned courage enough to advance while Mrs. Eagle coyly retreated, and back and forth both danced and circled until finally Mrs. Eagle bashfully consented to accept the gallant’s attentions. Then he flew over to her side and as she turned to flee once more, Mr. Eagle enfolded her in his wings and they danced away with heads together.
The entire dance was very well done, and the admiring audience applauded loudly for an encore, but Miss Miller said:
“No, I just wanted to see what you thought of it before it was danced to-morrow. The Eagle Dance, done by the Zuñi or Hopi Indian men, is much more energetic but Nita makes a very good gallant, I think, and Zan a demure and willing lady-love.”
“Indeed they do, and what is more, I want to get a picture of the costume. Zan, will you pose by that tree while I snap you?” said Mrs. Remington.
“And let me add: Nita and Zan can claim a coup for that dancing costume,” said the Guide.
The Little Lodge had become so imbued with the ambitions of the Big Lodge, that they, too, worked hard to present their claims for admiration. Tally Books were pasted up, bugs and butterflies, moths and grasses, birds’ nests and leaves, twigs, rush and reed specimens were arranged on a rustic table for exhibition. This kept the children busy and out of the way of the girls who bustled about preparing camp for the Grand Council.
That week-end was perfect and word reached the village hotel Saturday morning that a number of autos filled with guests would need accommodations over Sunday and Labour Day. The unusual news speedily circulated and when the Doctor’s party rode through the sleepy little place every villager was out and curiously watching the sight. All those city folks at the hotel at the same time! What would poor Mr. Haskins do – and his wife laid up with asthma so’s you could hear her wheeze away down the lane!
Leaving the luggage at the “hotel,” the visitors continued to the camp ten miles further on. Here they met a noisy welcome, and soon were seated under the pines telling the story of their trip.
“Now then,” concluded the doctor, “if this Tribe doesn’t appreciate our sacrifices to enable us to assist at this Council, I shall forever after wash my hands of them.”
“If you haven’t any vessel larger than the tin basin in our hotel bed-room, your hands will not be washed very well!” laughed Mrs. Baker.
Everyone laughed, too, for most of the campers knew of the hotel which was no more than an elongated farm-house with a lean-to added at one end for a “ristrant.” This addition was politely called “The Annex.”
“It’s a wonder Mr. Haskins found beds for you all!” added Mrs. Hubert, chuckling at reminiscences.
“He didn’t!” retorted Fiji. “He dragged some husk-mattresses into the low attic above the ‘guest rooms’ and told us boys we had to sleep there. I have to wash at the pump ’cause he hasn’t enough basins to go round!”
“There’s the lake – don’t draw on the limited supply of rain-water from the pump!” laughed Mrs. Remington.
In spite of quarters and accommodations at the “hotel,” however, the visiting party declared they had never had a better time than this Labour Day Council Meeting.
The lake offered many exciting sports, swimming and fishing not the least of them. The hiking, Councils, games, and other diversions of camp-life filled every moment till the early morning after Labour Day when everyone had to rush madly about to pick up articles over-looked in the hasty packing of baggage, for the girls and Miss Miller were to ride back in the cars with the visitors.
When they were gone, and the Brownies went to say good-bye to the lake and camp-grounds, Mrs. Hubert turned to Mrs. Remington and said:
“Well, I guess they had a good time at this camp?”
“They certainly did – a glorious Summer and filled with good work,” replied Mrs. Remington.
“When I think of Paul over-coming his whining ways, your little Teddy more considerate of his little friends, Tammy losing his dependence on others, Betty not half so shy, Billy and Edith eager to help others instead of enjoying themselves, I say, God bless the Brownies,” sighed Mrs. Hubert, gratefully.
“But you’ve said not a word about the Big Lodge! How about Eleanor Wilbur? Did you ever see such wonderful improvement in anyone? And our boys, too. Mrs. Baker certainly deserves unlimited thanks for the way they show camp training. Then there are those new members, and our five old ones – perhaps you and I show the general uplift the others do, too!” said Mrs. Remington, smilingly.
“I may not show it but I feel it,” responded Mrs. Hubert.
“Who can help being ‘born again’ with the simple life in grand old forests near a lake of pure water? Nature is the Wonder Worker in selfish, morbid, erroneous characters, and the marvel grows as each one rises higher and reaches out for God unconsciously until he arrives at a resting-place. Then the mist disappears and he catches a glimpse of the glories of the wide horizon’s promised Heaven.”
At the last words, the key clicked in the front door and the two ladies turned to join the rest of the party who were following Tim toward the large touring-car waiting at the end of the woodland path.
