Kitabı oku: «The Woodcraft Girls in the City», sayfa 6
CHAPTER SEVEN – CAMPING SPORTS OF A WEEK-END
“Come ahead, boys, clean the fish and get them ready for me to cook,” called Fred, starting to dig a hole in the ground about twice the size of the fish. This he thickly lined with large sized shore pebbles which had been well washed. On top of these stones he built a good fire until it thoroughly heated the stones to a white heat.
Meantime Bob and Billy cleaned and washed the fish, then placed a thick strip of bacon inside each one. They salted, peppered, and floured the fish ready to cook.
When the fire-pit was ready, Fred raked out the cinders and put a layer of clean grass on top of the red-hot stones. He laid out the fish on this and covered them with a layer of the grass, and on top of this he spread a thin layer of sand. Then he piled in the glowing cinders and kept the fire burning fiercely on top of Nature’s sauce-pan.
The Guide returned from her bath while the fish were cooking and expressed deep interest in the new method of cooking she saw demonstrated before her. Fred explained how he built the oven and a note was made to enter the splendid idea in the Tribe’s Tally.
“Are the fish most done?” asked Elizabeth, sniffing for an odour of the cooking.
“Be ready about the same time the rest of the supper is,” replied Fred.
“That’s a new kind of a pot-hanger, Miss Miller,” said Zan, pointing to the sapling Fred had rigged up.
“I’ll tell you girls just how I made this fire-place,” offered he. “Large stones are so plentiful about here, so I took some flat ones and built the fire inside the narrow aperture made by laying the stones in two rows parallel to each other. The sauce-pans stand close over the fire and are quite firm on these flat stones, and the building does not take as long to complete as a log fire-place.
“These two green logs were found by Billy, and you can see for yourselves that the angle they make as placed, provides a resting place for various sized pots – small to large – the large ones setting on the widest opening of the angle. The fire built between the logs is easily kept clean by raking out the dead ash from the widest opening.
“Now this is a good form of pot-hanger where you want a kettle to hang directly over a fire. I found a good sapling that had a well-defined notch made by two branches. These I cut down to about three inches in length. The bottom of the sapling I trimmed to a point to drive into the ground the right distance I wanted.
“Then I trimmed another forked sapling similar to the first but much longer. This I fitted into the crotch of the upright stick, with the forked end directly over the fire, and the opposite end held firmly to the ground by means of a stump or flat stone. You see, this forked device of the end over the fire keeps the handle of the pot from slipping off, and the long end held to the ground by a weight gives the kettle enough swing to resist any extra contents.
“While you’re all here seeing me do it, let me tell you a fine stunt if the weather is bad and tents are damp, or cots cold and uncomfortable,” added Fred, as he concluded his talk on pot-hangers. “When you are through cooking dinner, you can take these red-hot fire-stones by means of a stout stick and a dishpan, and carry them to the tent. In a short time, the heat rising from the stones will dry the atmosphere. If the cots are damp and cold, place the pan of hot stones under the bed and they will soon dry and be warm as toast all night. If you want the temperature of the tent to keep warm all night, place a layer of moss or grass over the stones. The rock will retain its heat for hours after removing it from the fire.”
“Well! If Fred Remington doesn’t know everything!” sighed Elena, admiringly.
“I wish you were a member of our Tribe,” added Zan.
“Who wouldn’t be an expert Woodcrafter with such a mother! Why, she was an enthusiastic worker in the plan long before a regular League started. Besides, we spend our Summers on the Island in Maine, and what we don’t know from camping at home we ferret out from the farmers and fishermen on the Coast. My uncles own the neighbouring islands to ours and they enjoy out-door life, too. So we all have a good time experimenting with new ideas and remembering the good ones for future use,” explained Fred, eagerly.
“Fred knows so much about camping and cooking because he won a degree for Camp Cook. Besides, he and his Tribe go hiking and camping every Saturday and Fred has charge of the party. I am working for the degree this year, and I’m sure I shall win it,” said Elizabeth, who was cooking a concoction she wished to try out.
“It behooves Wako Tribe to keep on friendly terms with you, Elizabeth,” remarked the Guide, smiling at Zan.
“Oh, we found that out long ago, Miss Miller,” retorted the Chief.
“What is that stuff you are fixing, Betsy? It smells awful good,” asked Hilda, sniffing at the steam that rose from the pot Elizabeth was using for her brew.
“I call it ‘hastychowder’ and it is made this way, in case you girls want to try it sometime: To one can of corn, take four cups of potatoes cut into small dice, two ounces of salt pork, also cut fine, a small onion, and about four ounces of crackers. Fry the pork and onions brown and then add the corn and potatoes. Cover this with water and cook until the vegetables are soft. Then add the milk and some salt, and lastly the crackers. If the crackers are soaked in milk for a time before using, I think it makes the chowder better.”
“Well, whatever you call it or cook it, it smells mighty good to me,” said Jane.
“Girls, I wanted to have plain cooked rice with the fish, but how can I cook it when every pot and place is in use?” asked the Guide, looking at the array of pans and pots all holding food.
“Ha! You’d make a poor tenderfoot if you were lost on the mountains with no outfit!” laughed Fred.
“What would you do in that case?” asked the Guide.
“Watch me! May I have a bit of this birch bark the girls brought back with them from the woods?” asked Fred.
“Help yourself,” replied Zan.
Fred quickly selected a strip of bark about ten inches wide. This he folded end to end to form a round tube. The edges were stitched with wire-grass. Then he sewed a bottom on one end and it represented a bark pail. Next he plastered clay on the outside seams, and rubbed some gum from a wild cherry tree on the seams of the inside, saying: “If we had time to let the clay dry I wouldn’t use the gum on the inside, but now I need to make it water-proof.”
Then he filled this vessel with water and selected two red-hot stones of a smaller size than the others, and dropped them in the water. Instantly, the water began boiling and the rice, which Miss Miller had washed, was poured into the vessel and a cover placed over the top.
“When our dinner is ready, the rice will be steamed, too,” said Fred, placing the bark vessel on a flat stone near the fire-place.
“Well I never!” ejaculated some of the girls, while Elena hastily sketched the birch-bark holder and wrote down the rules for manufacturing it.
“Now girls, lay the cloth and have the dishes ready for the chowder,” called Elizabeth, tasting the liquid from the tip of a spoon.
“I wish those two boys were here to enjoy this scrumptious meal,” said Jane, sighing as she thought of their loss.
The chowder was dished up and eaten with sounds of many smacks and “Ahs!” Then the fish were removed from the oven and as the aroma of the flaky and sweet meat reached the nostrils of the Woodcrafters, a chorus of “Um’s!” echoed about the camp-circle.
Every morsel of that supper vanished like ice in the July sunshine and was declared the best ever tasted by the campers. The gray of evening crept over sky and sea and earth as the Woodcrafters sat about the dying embers of the camp-fire hoping for a call or signal from the two boys, which would warn them of their approach. But in spite of the torch Fred kept burning on the Cliff, nothing was heard or seen from the wanderers.
Eleanor had been very quiet and meek since her confession to the Guide, but old ingrained habits are not thrown off in one moment of repentance. When Fred returned from the Cliff with the report that he saw no sign of a fire or signal, she remarked:
“Well, you said the current was dreadfully strong just around the end of the Island. Maybe they couldn’t make it and are being carried out to sea in the canoe.”
“Oh no, they’re all right,” assured Fred, glancing at Zan and Jane.
“But they may have lost the paddles, or a dozen of any many things may have happened. Boys are always careless with an open boat,” persisted Eleanor.
“Miss Miller, we’ll put an end to this dread by going to the nearest telephone station. If the boys think we’re lost they will ’phone home sometime before morning, and then they can tell them where we are. If they have already ’phoned we will find out and rest easier for the news,” said Fred, pulling Bob up from his lounge by the fire.
“It’s too dark to see where we’re going,” grumbled Bob, who had enjoyed the chowder and fish overmuch.
“Not when my lanterns are ready. Watch me,” said Fred, picking up the two empty tins left from the corn, and slitting a hole in the side of each. The lid-ends were bent back and a candle fitted in the openings, then the jagged ends were pressed back into the tallow. The one end of the can was cut out entirely and the opposite end which had been cut open to remove the corn was bent back on the small piece of tin uncut and used as a handle for the impromptu lanterns.
Enough light reflected from the shiny tin of the inside cans to show the boys where to walk, and they started off on the hazard of finding a house or village where they could use a telephone.
“Let’s study the stars while they are gone. Who can tell us a new story or find the old planets?” suggested Zan.
So the time passed quickly until the campers heard a whoop from the woods and saw the flickering of the two lights as the boys approached the fire.
“What did you find out?” cried Jane and Zan, as they jumped up from the grass to run and meet the messengers.
“Good joke on Jack and Fiji! They just telephoned a few minutes before we did. They were wondering what had happened to you girls. They said that Bob knew well enough where to go as he saw the tree blazed as a sign for you,” said Fred.
“So I did, but the day we came over to hunt up a site, we were in the auto and to-day I came by boat, so it looked very different. Besides, both places look alike as far as woods and beach and sandy cliff go,” responded Bob.
“Did they say they would look us up to-night?” asked Zan.
“They haven’t the slightest idea where to find us in the dark, so they will remain at the camp where they are and pick us up in the morning,” explained Fred.
“Well, thank goodness, we know they are safe and sound, although I felt sure they were, right along,” sighed Jane.
“Yes, indeed, two athletic boys like Fiji and Jack would be all right,” added Eleanor, really believing her own words – such is the changeableness of a dual nature.
The tired Woodcrafters then retired and sighed as they stretched out weary bones on the cots or under the stars on soft pine beds.
“Gee! This is the life!” chuckled Bob, as he bounced up and down on the springy spruce-tip bed.
“Guess the midgets haven’t reached you yet!” grumbled Billy, as he slapped viciously at an unseen plague.
Then Fred began slapping and whipping the air, and finally Bob felt the mosquitoes and midgets bite, until all three boys jumped up again and began building a smudge fire.
“Oh boys! If you would only come over to our camp and help us build a smoke like yours! We can’t sleep a wink!” cried Zan.
Fred and his helpers soon had a number of small smudge fires burning about the tents and the girls thanked them sincerely as they felt relief from the pesky insects that make camping a trial.
The gay carolling of a few late birds woke the campers, and Miss Miller was soon out ready to start breakfast. The others all declared for a morning dip, and were soon splashing and playing in the surf. The boys preferred to go in later, however, and take the morning hour before breakfast to catch some fish.
“Maybe we’ll get enough for breakfast and dinner, too!” said Bob.
By the time the girls were dressed, the boys returned to land with three goodly sized fish and the news that they had spied a smoke rising from a campfire some two miles down the shore.
“It’s Fiji and Jack – I wish we could surprise them at breakfast,” laughed Zan.
“I have an idea!” ventured Bob. “Right after breakfast, let’s take as many as can get in the launch and start down the coast; the others can hike through the woods and meet us there. On the way back we will make the others ride home and the first batch walk.”
“I’ll ride the aqua-plane,” offered Elizabeth.
“Why don’t you let some of the other girls do that?” asked Fred.
“They don’t know how.”
“But it isn’t hard to learn. I can show them how to balance in a few trials. Do you want to try after breakfast, Zan?” returned Fred.
“Oh, I’d love it!” cried Zan.
So breakfast was quickly disposed of because the girls anticipated great sport with the plane. Billy was detailed to steer the launch while Fred showed the girls how to balance and guide the ropes to make the aqua-plane skim lightly over the waves.
After many upsets and great shouting and excitement, the girls could manage the plane quite well. Then as the young engineer increased the speed of the launch and the plane fairly flew over the water, the riders felt as if they were aviators, the sense of the rest for their feet disappearing in the dizzy pace with which they sped over the surf.
“I thought you folks wanted to hunt up the lost boys?” called Miss Miller, when she thought the girls had had enough of the drenching sport for that morning.
“So we will, now that we can take turns on the plane as we go alongshore,” called back Zan.
“We’ll have to draw lots for the pleasure – there are too many here to ride on the way down,” said Fred.
The lot was chosen by having each girl draw a blade of grass from the Guide’s hand. The shortest piece would win. It fell to Elizabeth, and the other girls all said it was a reward for her sacrifice of enjoying the fun while the others were practising.
The girls who were to hike were just ready to start out when a canoe shot around the point of the promontory and a voice bawled out:
“Well, I must say! A lot of fine friends Jack and I have!”
“I must say! You’re a nice host to lead a lot of
“Don’t tell me you never knew that! Why, everyone knows that a clam swims in with the tide and burrows down in the wet sand to sleep. If you walk over its little mound it spurts water up like a geyser,” returned Zan.
“Come on, girls, let’s make ’em spurt!” urged Billy, who was very fond of all sports, fishing included.
The launch and aqua-plane were drawn up on the beach and soon sixteen busy clam-diggers were bending over, laughing, and calling to each other, at every clam discovered. It was great fun.
After half an hour of this pastime, the Guide asked Zan and Hilda to go with her and build a fire and prepare the kettle for the chowder. But they had scarcely completed the laying of the fire-wood when Eleanor joined them.
“Oh, my back aches so! I think clamming is dreadfully hard work. How you folks can find sport in everything you do is beyond me. Now I would much rather help fix the fire and let one of you two girls take my place clamming,” remarked Eleanor.
“The fire’s all ready, and Miss Miller is going to start the chowder. But you can help collect more wood from that grove so we will have a pile on hand,” said Zan, with a frown.
Eleanor ran away and Zan looked at the Guide, but her face expressed nothing that would encourage the girl to criticise the indolent member of the Band.
Eleanor was gone a long time without having brought in any wood when Hilda was asked to go in search of her.
“Good gracious me! Not only does Eleanor make a burden of herself for the Band but now she needs a nurse to watch and keep her from mischief!” declared Hilda, impatiently.
Hilda ran off and Zan stood watching her out of sight. Then she turned to the Guide: “Now what next?”
“I have just been thinking that we might have potatoes with fish for lunch and save that chowder for supper when the visitors are here.”
“Um – it’s very filling, I have heard,” commented Zan.
Miss Miller laughed. “Yes, and it needs a long time for cooking well. Besides, we won’t need to waste any good time over an elaborate meal with that chowder to found on.”
“Will there be fish enough to go round?” asked Zan.
“Yes, Jack brought up several fine fish that Fiji and he caught at dawn this morning, so we ought to fare very well.”
Hilda now came back with Eleanor strolling after her – Hilda carrying the heavy load of wood, and Eleanor whipping the heads from some late goldenrod with a switch.
“I found her stretched out on some moss blinking up at the blue sky!” reported Hilda, disdainfully.
“Why shouldn’t I rest after working so hard? Look at the wood I found,” retorted Eleanor.
“Why didn’t you lug it into camp? There’s no credit due you for finding a few sticks if you don’t carry out the task to fulfilment,” scorned Zan.
“Miss Miller, I’m sick of this business! I never was so hard worked in my life, and to think how everyone finds fault with me for not doing more,” said Eleanor, testily.
“I wonder if any of you girls stopped to think that you could start a list for your fish coups by knowing and studying the fish caught here. Suppose you all begin with these three kinds,” suggested Miss Miller, wisely.
“That’s so, we never thought of it,” cried Hilda.
“Dear me, why didn’t we try to place those fish this morning? Did you know them, Miss Miller?” asked Zan.
Eleanor was interested in the fish, too, and so another fatality for the new member was averted.
“I knew the white fish we had this morning, and I see here is another. That other fish I believe to be a sea-trout but we will have to verify that by asking the boys. They will know.”
“And that smaller one – if the boys know we will have three on the list already, won’t we?” said Zan, eagerly.
“Of course the boys know – they seem to imbibe knowledge of this sort by instinct. Why, a boy never has to learn to swim, he just flops in the water and sails along like a frog, while we timid females try and try again before we can get the stroke,” declared Hilda.
The clam-diggers came up with a large reward for their aching backs and sun-burn, and the plan of starting a list of fish was proposed by the Chief. Thereafter, more interest was shown in the three kinds of fish on exhibit than any of the girls could ever remember before.
While the Woodcrafters sat eating luncheon, a peculiar whistle sounded from the woods back of them.
“Sounds like a tramp signalling a pal to come and enjoy this lunch,” teased Bob.
“You seem to forget that we girls won a coup for knowing our native birds this Summer. I know what kind of a bird that is, too. Anyone else here recognise it?” said Zan.
“Don’t tell! Don’t – please. Let us new members try to place the sound and sight and begin on our bird coups,” interrupted Anne Mason.
“Come on, hurry up! We can wash dishes later,” added Frances.
“You girls go, and I will remain here with the boys to clear away the dishes and follow after you later,” offered the Guide.
So the Band ran away and shortly after Miss Miller and her helpers finished the chores and went into the woods also. About an hour was spent in interesting study and pursuit of Nature’s lore, when a sound coming from the direction of the camp reached the crowd.
“That’s a kind of bird I know at once!” laughed Zan.
“It sounds like the siren on your Dad’s machine,” ventured Jane.
“It is. I guess the company have arrived and are waiting for a welcome,” added Fiji.
At that, the Guide turned and the Band trailed after her to the camp-site where they found the doctor impolitely prying into the state of the larder, and two ladies with two children laughing at his remarks when he discovered the fragrant chowder.
“Oh, there’s Edith and Baby!” cried Elizabeth, running to greet her mother and the children.
Having saluted the Woodcrafters with great ceremony, the doctor said: “Some people have been busy this morning, judging from preparations for dinner.”
“We just had to dig to provide enough for you – when we heard you had invited yourself to dinner with us,” retorted Zan, who always enjoyed a wordy combat with her father.
“Well, I must confess, I brought my normal appetite with me, so it will be fortunate if the others have anything to eat,” replied Dr. Baker.
“If you admit your appetite is normal now, what will it be after you have had a dip in the briny?” laughed Fiji.
“To insure ourselves against emergencies I had Moses pack some of his unexcelled southern cake and pies,” answered Mrs. Remington, pointing to a huge hamper that had escaped notice.
“Oh, we know Mose!” laughed Fred, running over to investigate.
“Gee! Looka-here boys!” called Billy, as one goody after another was lifted up and displayed to the circle of gourmands.
“Come, come, Bill! Leave them in the hamper so they won’t dry or be covered with ants,” advised his mother, going over to assist him in obedience.
“Who’s ready for a sea-fight? In these days of deep-sea warfare we should have practise to be ready to swim after a U-boat, if necessary,” called the doctor, seeing the hamper once more left in order and safety.
“Me for the briny!” called Bob, running to the boys’ tent.
That morning, Fiji had discovered a deep pool directly under the sandy point of the promontory, and this offered an excellent spot for diving. While the more timid jumped about or swam nearer the beach, the older and more experienced of the party enjoyed the dives and deep water. Teddy and Edith found an impromptu pier made of drift-wood where the launch was anchored, and here they played store, having tin cans and shells for receptacles to hold sea-sand flour and sugar.
Long before the merry bathers were ready to come out, the Guide and Mrs. Baker and Mrs. Remington went to the tents and dressed. Then they began preparations for the supper-party.
The doctor always provided fun and laughter wherever he went, so the evening meal was a jolly affair that night. After the young folks declared they could laugh no more, Mrs. Baker said without a smile, “You all are most gullible.”
“Why?” demanded a chorus of voices.
“Why? Why to sit here and laugh while the doctor is making away with that chowder. I haven’t seen him pause a moment between spoonfuls while he had you all laughing too heartily to eat.”
“Then he’ll want to stay all night!” complained Bob.
Everyone laughed, for the tone said as plain as day: “I hope to goodness he won’t!”
“That is all I’ve been waiting for – an invitation,” replied the doctor.
“We can’t tuck you in anywhere. You’ll have to win a coup for sleeping out under the stars,” laughed Zan.
“Don’t worry, friends! Doctor is only teasing. He has to be back in the city at nine to-night to meet a physician and consult over a case,” explained Mrs. Baker.
“Then we’d better make the most of the time left us,” urged the doctor, jumping up ready for anything proposed.
“Shall we dance?” asked Nita.
“Oh, be considerate! Remember I enjoyed the chowder more than was reasonable and I am not in a mood to play Na-na Bo-jou!” warned the doctor.
Everyone laughed again at that, for Na-na Bo-jou is one of the most active of all energetic dances performed by Woodcrafters.
“Why not sit quietly about the fire and hear a story?” suggested Mrs. Baker.
“Let Mrs. Remington tell it – she is a regular bookful of legends and Indian lore,” quickly added the Guide.
The idea was heartily endorsed by the others and Mrs. Remington began:
“How the Weasel Got His White Breast.
“A long time ago, before there were any Indians, the world was inhabited by spirits. These spirits were the souls of all the animals and plants and things we see to-day. One of them was called Kanhlalas, the Weasel. He was little and brown and lived in a field. One day a strange thing happened to him. Listen, I will tell you about it.
“Near the field where the Weasel had his home there was a mountain. On top of the mountain lived an old man called Waida Dikit, the Speckled Trout. He felt lonely up there, so he sent for Saroki Sakahl, the Green Snake. When Saroki came Waida Dikit took him to his wigwam and said:
“‘My son, here is pipe and tobacco. Let us smoke awhile.’
“Saroki sat down by the wall and smoked. He smoked so much that soon Waida Dikit could not see across the wigwam.
“‘My son,’ said he, taking his own pipe from his mouth, ‘you are a strong smoker.’
“Saroki did not answer. After a time Waida Dikit stuck his head from the wigwam and saw that the whole world was covered with the smoke from Saroki’s pipe. Waida Dikit was frightened. He felt about on the floor for his flute.
“‘You have smoked enough,’ he said to Saroki. ‘Here is a flute. Let me hear you play.’
“Saroki took the flute and played for three days and three nights without stopping. By the end of the first day Waida Dikit could see through the smoke which was fast thinning, and he could see the other side of the wigwam.
“By the end of the third day the smoke was all gone and the blue sky could be seen once more. Then Saroki stopped playing.
“‘You are a good player,’ said Waida Dikit, ‘but I know a better one. He is Kanhlalas, the Weasel that lives down there in the field. I will send for him.’
“In a little while Kanhlalas came, bringing his own flute. When he was comfortably seated in the middle of the wigwam, Waida Dikit said to him: ‘Saroki Sakahl thinks he is a fine player. If you play he will know what a good player really is.’
“Kanhlalas took his flute, swelled out his chest, and began playing. He played all day and all night without stopping. By morning he was so out of breath that there appeared a white stripe down the middle of his breast. He merely swelled out his chest a little more and went on playing. Waida Dikit and Saroki Sakahl became frightened.
“‘Stop!’ cried both of them. ‘Something will happen. We know that you are the best player now.’
“But Kanhlalas would not listen nor would he stop playing. He only played harder and harder. By the end of the third day his breath was entirely gone and he had to stop. But it was too late!
“His whole breast was white as snow and from that day to this every weasel has had a white breast.”
As Mrs. Remington concluded the story the campers signified their disapproval of such a short tale by demanding another, but Dr. Baker declared it was time they started for home.
“But do wait and let us have one dance to pay Mrs. Remington for the story,” cried Nita, springing up ever ready to perform.
“Girls, show our visitors the dance-song of ‘Summertime,’” suggested the Guide.
The Band then performed the song to graceful steps and motions and the audience loudly applauded when it was finished.
“Mother, why can’t I stay over-night with Elizabeth and the other, girls – Zan says they can find lots of room for a little girl like me,” pleaded Edith.
“Yes, do allow the child to remain with us. It is only for one night, you know,” added Miss Miller.
“Why, you seem to have so many already, that I would not like to add to the care,” responded Mrs. Remington, doubtfully.
“I’ll be so good, mother, that it will be no care!” begged Edith.
“And we will look after her, mother,” added Elizabeth.
“I wanna stay, too!” now demanded the youthful Theodore Roosevelt Remington, aged four.
“No, no, Baby, Mother needs you at home!” quickly said Edith.
To the little girl’s delight, she was permitted to remain and the others started for home, leaving the weary hostesses to seek tents and cots where all were soon fast asleep, despite the mosquitoes.
