A Campfire Girl's First Council Fire

by Jane L. Stewart

  CHAPTER IV

  AN UNEXPECTED FRIEND

  Bessie wasn't afraid of what Wanaka would find out in Hedgeville. Wanakawouldn't take Jake Hoover's word against hers, that much was sure. Andshe guessed that Wanaka would have her own ways of discovering thetruth. So, as Wanaka changed from her bathing suit to a costume bettersuited to the trip to the village, Bessie went out with a light heart tofind Zara. Already she thought that she saw the way clear before them.With friends, there was no reason why they should not reach the city andmake their own way there, as plenty of other girls had done. And itseemed to Bessie that Wanaka meant to be a good friend.

  "Oh, Bessie, have you been hearing all about the Camp Fire, too?" askedZara, when she espied her friend, "It's wonderful! They do all sorts ofthings. And Minnehaha is going to teach me to swim this afternoon.She'll teach you, too, if you like."

  But Bessie only smiled in answer. She could swim already, but she saidnothing about it, since no one asked her, seeming to take it for grantedthat, like Zara, she was unused to the water. Moreover, while she couldswim well enough, she was afraid that she would look clumsy and awkwardin comparison to the Camp Fire Girls. Most of them had changed theirclothes now, before dinner.

  Some wore short skirts and white blouses; one or two were in a costumethat Bessie recognized at once as that of Indian maidens, from thepictures she had seen in the books she had managed to get at the Hooverfarmhouse. She noticed, too, that many of them now wore strings ofbeads, and that all wore rings. Two or three of the girls, too, worebracelets, strangely marked, and all had curious badges on their rightsleeves.

  "We've got to wash the dishes, now," said Minnehaha, who bore out hername by laughing and smiling most of the time. She had already told Zarathat her real name was Margery Burton. "You sit down and rest, and whenwe've done, we'll talk to you and tell you more about the Camp FireGirls and all the things we do."

  "No, indeed," said Bessie, laughing back. "That won't do at all. Youcooked our meal; now we'll certainly help to clean up. That's somethingI can do, and I'm going to help."

  Zara, too, insisted on doing her share, and the time passed quickly asthe girls worked. Then, when the things were cleaned and put away, andsome preparations had been made for the evening meal, Zara begged tohave her first swimming lesson at once.

  "No, we'll have to wait a little while for that," said Minnehaha. "Wemust wait until Wanaka comes back. She's our Guardian, you see, and it'sa rule that we mustn't go into the water unless she's here, no matterhow well we swim, unless, of course, we have to, to help someone who isdrowning. And it's too soon after dinner, too. It's bad for you to gointo the water less than two hours after a meal. We're always carefulabout that, because we have to be healthy. That's one of the chiefreasons we have the Camp Fire."

  "Tell us about it," begged Zara, sitting down.

  "You see this ring?" said Minnehaha, proudly.

  She pointed to her ring, a silver band with an emblem,--seven fagots.

  "We get a ring like that when we join," she explained. "That's theWood-Gatherer's ring, and the National Council gives it to us. Thoseseven fagots each stand for one of the seven points of the law of thefire."

  "What are they, Minnehaha?"

  "They're easy to remember: 'Seek Beauty; Give Service; Pursue Knowledge;Be Trustworthy; Hold on to Health; Glorify Work; Be Happy.' If you wantto do all those things--and I guess everyone does--you can be aWood-Gatherer. Then, later on, you get to be a Fire-Maker, and, afterthat, a Torch-Bearer. And when you get older, if you do well, you canbe a Guardian, and be in charge of a Camp Fire yourself. You see, thereare Camp Fires all over. There are a lot of them in our city, and inevery city. And there are more and more all the time. The movementhasn't been going on very long, but it's getting stronger all the time."

  "Are you a Fire-Maker?"

  "Not yet. If I were, I'd wear a bracelet, like Ayu. And instead of justhaving a bunch of fagots on my sleeve, there'd be a flame coming fromthem. And then, when I get to be a Torch-Bearer, I'll have a pin, aswell as the ring and the bracelet, and there'll be smoke on my badge, aswell as fire and wood. But you have to work hard before you can stopbeing a Wood-Gatherer and get to the higher ranks. We all have to workall the time, you see."

  "I've had to work, too," said Bessie. "But this seems different becauseyou enjoy your work."

  "That's because we like to work. We work because we want to do it, notbecause someone makes us."

  "Yes, I was thinking of that. I always worked because I had to--MawHoover made me."

  "Who's Maw Hoover, Bessie?"

  So Bessie told her story, or most of it, all over again, and the othergirls, seeing that she was telling a story, crowded around and listened.

  "I think it's a shame you were treated so badly," said Minnehaha. "Butdon't you worry--Miss Eleanor will know what to do. She won't let themtreat you unfairly. Is she going to find out about things in thevillage?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, you needn't worry any more, then. Why, one of the first thingsshe did in the city, when she started this Camp Fire, was to get us allto work to get better milk for the babies in the poor parts, where thetenement houses are. We all helped, but she did most of it. And now allthe milk is good and pure, and the babies don't die any more in the hotweather in summer."

  "That's fine. I'd like to be a Camp Fire Girl."

  "Why shouldn't you be one, then?"

  "But--"

  Bessie hesitated.

  After all, why not? Maw Hoover would never have let her do anything likethat--but Maw Hoover couldn't stop her from doing anything she likednow. Wanaka had told her what Zara had always said, that Maw Hoovercouldn't make her stay, couldn't make her keep on working hard every dayfor nothing but her board. She had read about girls who had gone to thecity and earned money, lots of money, without working any harder thanshe had always done. Perhaps could do that, too.

  "You talk to Wanaka about that when she comes back," said Minnehaha, whoguessed what Bessie was thinking. "You see her. She'll explain it toyou. And you're going to be happy, Bessie. I'm sure of that. When peopledo right, and still aren't happy for a while, it's always made up tothem some way. And usually when they do wrong they have to pay for it,some way or another. That's one of the things we learn in the CampFire."

  "Here comes Wanaka now," said one of the other girls. "There's someonewith her."

  Bessie looked frightened.

  "I don't want anyone from Hedgeville to see me," she said. "Do yousuppose they're coming here?"

  "Wanaka will come first. See, she's staying on the other side of thelake. It's a man. He's carrying her things. I'll paddle over for her ina canoe. I don't think the man will come with her, but you and Zara gointo the tent there. Then you'll be all right. No one would ever thinkof your being here, or asking any questions."

  But Bessie watched anxiously. She couldn't make out the face of the manwith Wanaka, as she peered from the door of the tent, but if he was fromHedgeville he would know her. Everyone knew the girl at Hoovers', whosefather and mother had deserted her. Bessie had long been one of themost interesting people in town to the farmers and the villagers, whohad little to distract or amuse them.

  "Stay quiet, Bessie," warned Minnehaha, as she stepped into the canoe."You'll be all right if you're not seen. I'll bring Wanaka back rightaway."

  With swift, sure strokes, Minnehaha sent the canoe skimming over thewater. The other girls were busy in various ways. Some were in thetents, changing their clothes for bathing suits; some had gone into thewoods to get fresh water from a spring. For the moment no one was insight. And suddenly, out of a clear sky, as it seemed, disasterthreatened. Clouds had been gathering for some time but the sun wasstill out, and there seemed no reason to fear any storm.

  But now there was a sudden roughening of the smooth surface of thewater; white caps were lashed up by a squall that broke with no warningat all. And Bessie, filled with horror, saw the canoe overturned by thewind. She saw, too, what eyes less quick
would have missed--that thepaddle, released from Minnehaha's grasp as the boat upset, struck her onthe head.

  For a moment Bessie stood rooted to the spot in terror. And then, whenMinnehaha did not appear, swimming, Bessie acted. Forgotten was thedanger that she would be discovered--her fear of the man on the otherside of the lake. Wanaka might not have seen, and there was no time tolose. The accident had occurred in the middle of the lake, and Bessie,rushing to the beach, pushed off a canoe and began to drive it towardthe other canoe, floating quietly now, bottom up. The squall had passedalready.

  Bessie had never been in a canoe before that day. She made clumsy workof the paddling. But fear for Minnehaha and the need of reaching her atonce made up for any lack of skill. Somehow she reached the spot. Bythat time the other girls had seen what was going on, and help wascoming quickly. Some swam and some were in one of the other canoes. ButBessie, catching a one of the most interesting people in town to thefarmers and the villagers, who had little to distract or amuse them.

  "Stay quiet, Bessie," warned Minnehaha, as she stepped into the canoe."You'll be all right if you're not seen. I'll bring Wanaka back rightaway."

  With swift, sure strokes, Minnehaha sent the canoe skimming over thewater. The other girls were busy in various ways. Some were in thetents, changing their clothes for bathing suits; some had gone into thewoods to get fresh water from a spring. For the moment no one was insight. And suddenly, out of a clear sky, as it seemed, disasterthreatened. Clouds had been gathering for some time but the sun wasstill out, and there seemed no reason to fear any storm.

  But now there was a sudden roughening of the smooth surface of thewater; white caps were lashed up by a squall that broke with no warningat all. And Bessie, filled with horror, saw the canoe overturned by thewind. She saw, too, what busy with Minnehaha, who soon showed signs ofreturning consciousness. So Bessie did not see or hear what was going onoutside.

  For the man who had been standing with Wanaka on the other shore hadseen Bessie, and he had known her. No wonder, since it was Paw Hooverhimself, from whom Wanaka had bought fresh vegetables for the camp. Hehad insisted on helping her to carry them out, although Wanaka, thinkingof Bessie and Zara, had told him she needed no help. But she could notshake him off, and on the way he had told her about the excitinghappenings of the previous day, of which, she told him, she had alreadyheard in the village.

  "By Godfrey!" said Paw Hoover, as he saw the rescue of Minnehaha, "thatyoung one's got pluck, so she has! And, what's more, Miss, I've asuspicion I've seen her before!"

  Wanaka said nothing, but smiled. What Paw Hoover had told her had donemore to confirm the truth of Bessie's story than all the talk she hadheard in Hedgeville. She liked the old farmer--and she wondered what hemeant to do. He didn't leave her long in doubt.

  "I'll just go over with you," he said, "if you'll make out to ferry meback here again."

  And Wanaka dared not refuse.

  "Had an idea you was askin' a lot of questions," said Paw Hoover, with achuckle. "Got lots of ideas I keep to myself--'specially at home. An'say, if that's Bessie, I want to see her."

  Wanaka saw that there was some plan in his mind, and she knew that totry to ward him off would be dangerous. There was nothing to prevent himfrom returning, later, with Weeks or anyone else.

  "Bessie!" she called. "Can you come out here a minute?"

  And Bessie, coming out, came face to face with Paw Hoover! She stared athim, frightened and astonished, but she held her ground. And PawHoover's astonishment was as great as her own. This was a new Bessie hehad never seen before. She was neatly dressed now in one of Ayu's blueskirts and white blouses, and one of the girls had done up her hair in anew way.

  "Well, I swan!" he said. "You've struck it rich, ain't you, Bessie?Aimin' to run away and leave us?"

  Bessie couldn't answer, but Wanaka spoke up.

  "You haven't any real hold on her, Mr. Hoover," she said.

  "That's right, that's right!" said Paw Hoover. "I cal'late you've had ahard time once in a while, Bessie. An' I don't believe you ever set thatshed afire on purpose. If you hadn't jumped into the water after thatother girl I'd never have suspicioned you was here, Bessie. You stayright with these young ladies, if they'll have you. I'll not say a word.An' if you ever get into trouble, you write to me--see?"

  He looked at her, and sighed. Then he beckoned to her, and took heraside.

  "Maw's right set on havin' her own way, Bessie," he said. "But she's mywife, an' she's a good one, an' if she makes mistakes, I've got to lether have her way. Reckon I've made enough on 'em myself. Here, you takethis. I guess you've earned it, right enough. That fire didn't do noreal damage--nothin' we can't fix up in a day or two."

  Bessie's eyes filled with tears. Paw Hoover was simply proving againwhat she had always known--that he was a really good and kindly man. Shelonged to tell him that she hadn't set the barn on fire, that it hadbeen Jake. But she knew he would find it hard to believe that of hisson, and that, even if he took her word for it, the knowledge would be ablow. And it would do her no good, so she said nothing of that.

  "Thank you, Paw," she said. "You always were good to me. I'll neverforget you, and sometime I'll come back to see you and all the others.Good-bye!"

  "Good-bye, Bessie," he said. "You be a good girl and you'll get alongall right. And you stick to Miss Mercer there. She'll see that you getalong."

  Not until he had gone did Bessie open her hand and look at the crumpledbill that Paw Hoover had left in it. And then, to her amazed delight,she saw that it was a five-dollar note--more money than she had everhad. She showed it to Wanaka.

  "I oughtn't to take it," she said. "He thinks I burned his woodshedand--"

  "But you know you didn't, and I think maybe he knows it, too," saidWanaka, "You needn't think anything of taking that money. You've workedhard enough to earn a lot more than that. Now I've found out that whatyou told me was just right. I knew it all the time, but I made sure.Bessie, how would you and Zara like to stay with us, and come back tothe city when we go? I'll be able to find some way to look after you.You can find work to do that won't be so hard, and you can study, too."

  "Oh, I'd love that, Wanaka," For the first time Bessie used the namefreely. "And can we be Camp Fire Girls?"

  "You certainly can," said Wanaka.