CHAPTER VIII A SELECT SLEEPING PARTY
"Gracious, Katherine, what is the matter with your fingers?" asked Gladyscuriously, as Katherine came into the room with all five fingers on herright hand tied up.
"Oh," replied Katherine cheerfully, "I burned one, cut one, pounded onewith a hammer and slammed the door on one, and that left only one goodone, so I tied that up, too, for safe-keeping and only take it out when Iwant to use it. It's a good thing I don't need my hand to sing carolswith, or I would be out of the running. Are we all here?"
"All but Veronica," answered Nyoda, "and Sahwah--and Sahwah will be herepresently. By the way, where is Veronica?"
"She's over at the theater where her uncle is orchestra director,"answered Gladys. "She goes over there almost every Saturday afternoon. Ibelieve she plays sometimes when one of the regular violinists isabsent."
Veronica, it must be confessed, was a great puzzle to the Winnebagos. Tryas they might, they could never get her to enter into their work and funwith any degree of vim. She always sat aloof, her brooding eyes staringoff into space. Not that they loved her any the less--they were toogenuinely sorry for her--but they never seemed to be able to break downthe barrier between them and her. They constantly stood abashed beforeher aristocratic airs. When the friends went together to get ice creamVeronica had a way of flinging a dollar bill down on the table andbidding the waitress keep the change that made the others feel cheapsomehow, although they knew it was useless extravagance. When a poorwoman came to the door one day, just as she was going out, and asked ifshe had any old clothes to give away she promptly took off her expensivefurs and gave them to her.
The girls were mightily impressed by this act until Nyoda talked it overwith them and made them see that the gift was entirely inappropriate. Sowhile they admired her to distraction and each one secretly hoped thatVeronica would single her out as a special friend, they had to admit thatas yet they had not made much headway.
"If Sahwah doesn't come in five minutes, we'll have to start withouther," said Hinpoha, walking impatiently to the window. "Carol practicebegins at two and it's half-past one now."
Just then the telephone rang. "It's Sahwah," reported Hinpoha, uponanswering, "and she says she's got a real charity case for us to lookinto--some old woman--and she's down at Sahwah's house now and we shouldall come down. She says it's the saddest thing she ever heard. What shallwe do, girls, shall we go?"
"Of course," said Katherine promptly.
"What about carol practice?" asked Gladys. "Won't it make us dreadfullylate?"
"We'll just have to be late, then," said Katherine, jabbing her hatpinsin swiftly. "Come on."
Sahwah met them at the door with an unusually solemn countenance. "You'rea load of bricks to come, girls," she said, "but I knew you would. Comeright upstairs. In here," she said, pausing before the door of her room."Maybe you'd better go in one at a time. You go first, Hinpoha."
Hinpoha, feeling queer, passed in. The next minute those outside heard agreat shout. "Migwan! My Migwan! When did you come? We thought youweren't coming for two whole days yet. Sahwah, you wretch, how could youget us so worked up?"
The others burst in and smothered Migwan in embraces while Katherinestood looking on curiously, until Gladys remembered her manners. "This isour Katherine," she said, drawing her forward, "that we have all writtenyou about. Make a speech, Katherine, to show her how you do it!"
And Katherine obligingly complied and Migwan laughed extravagantly andwas soon sitting on the bed beside her with her arm locked in hers, andtalking to her as if she had known her all her life instead of only fiveminutes. That was the effect Katherine had on everybody.
Then they dragged Migwan out to the House of the Open Door and introducedher to the Sandwiches, who were playing basket ball in their half of thebarn. The Sandwiches began to plan a Christmas barn dance in her honor onthe spot, and nobody thought of carol practice again until it was toolate to go. Migwan had to explain how she got through with her work atcollege two days earlier than she had expected and came home to surprisethem. She went to see Sahwah first and Sahwah worked the little stratagemwhich brought them all down to her house in such a hurry. Each oneinsisted upon Migwan's going home with her to spend the night, but shecould not be enticed away from her own home. "I guess you'd want to stayat home, too, if you hadn't seen your mother for three months." But shepromised to attend a select sleeping party some night up in the House ofthe Open Door, which Sahwah had just "germed."
"There's a loose shingle on the roof and the snow comes in a little,"said Hinpoha regretfully. "It really ought to be fixed."
"Never mind the shingle," cried the others. "When did the Winnebagos everbalk at a snowflake or two on their beds?"
The barn dance was a grand success in spite of the fact that Slim felldown the ladder in his excitement and sprained all the portions of hisanatomy that he needed most for dancing, besides demolishing a frostedcake in the tumble.
"Too bad you can't dance," said the Captain sympathetically, when Slim'sankles had been strapped with plaster and he had been comfortably settledon a pile of bearskins brought down from the bed upstairs. "But you don'tneed to waste your time. You can be musician and play the banjo while therest of us dance."
"But I can't play the banjo," objected Slim.
"Play anyway," commanded the Captain. "Here, I'll teach you a couple oftunes that you can play with one finger that we can do most of the dancesto." So Slim learned to play the banjo under pressure and pickedbanefully away while the rest whirled about on the floor. Sometimes hegot his tunes or his time so badly mixed that it was impossible to danceand then the Captain would make him sing and beat time with a hatchet onthe floor. Finally Nyoda took pity on him and took over the banjo,producing such lively strains and keeping the dancers going at such a madpace that they sank down breathless one by one, and a series of loudthumps from Sandhelo's stall told them that he was also capering to themusic and nearly battering his stall down in the process.
The boys went home reluctantly at eleven o'clock and the girls climbedthe ladder to the joys of the "select sleeping party." This was the firsttime any of them had stayed all night in the House of the Open Door."Covers were laid for nine," as Katherine wrote in the Count Book. Nyodahad her camp bed, Sahwah had her pile of bearskins, Gladys her Indian Bedand Nakwisi her willow bed. Migwan was invited to share them all andchose the bearskins. Katherine had brought a couch hammock, which shedeclared surpassed them all in comfort. The rest of the girls played JohnKempo for the privilege of sleeping with Nyoda, and Veronica got it, andthe other two spread their blankets on mattresses on the floor. Thefireplace was filled with glowing hard coals, which would keep all night,and the Lodge was as warm as toast, so the snowflakes which drifted inthrough the hole in the roof were never noticed. Of course they talkedhalf the night, for there was so much to tell Migwan and so much she hadto tell them it seemed they never would get it all told. But finally theconversation was punctuated by steadily lengthening yawns, and thentrailed off into silence.
Nyoda was awakened by the touch of a cold hand on her face. "What is it?"she asked, sitting up.
"It's I--Migwan," said the figure standing beside her. "Do you know whereSahwah is?"
"Isn't she in bed with you?" asked Nyoda, still in a low tone of voice,so as not to disturb the other girls.
"No, she isn't," whispered Migwan. "I woke up a minute ago and feltaround for her and she wasn't there. I called and asked where she was andthere was no answer."
Nyoda got up and lit a candle, and looked carefully around the room. Allthe other girls were sound asleep in their beds; Sahwah's clothes lay ona chair, but there was no sign of Sahwah. "She can't be under the bed,"said Migwan, "because this bed has no 'under.'"
Nyoda went to the top of the ladder and called: "Sahwah, are you downthere?" No answer. All was dark and silent below. When it was evidentthat Sahwah was not in the barn, Nyoda roused all the sleeper
sunceremoniously.
"What's the matter? What's happened?" they all cried sleepily. There wasa great uproar when Sahwah's disappearance became known. "Where could shehave gone without her clothes?" they all asked.
"Do you think she was dragged from her bed, Nyoda?" asked Hinpohaanxiously, filled with the wildest fears.
"No, I don't," answered Nyoda promptly, suddenly remembering certainfacts in Sahwah's history. "I think she's walking in her sleep again. Shealways does when she gets excited. She's probably gotten out of the barnand is wandering around somewhere and we must find her and bring her inwithout delay. This is altogether too cold a night to be promenadingwithout a coat on." She had dressed herself fully while she was talkingand the others followed suit with all speed.
The barn door was carefully closed, but the big inside bolt wasunfastened and they knew by that that Sahwah was outside somewhere. Thewind had swept the snow off the drive and there was not a footprint to beseen. They spent some time looking all around the barn and up on the roofand then concluded that she must have gone down the drive, because, ifshe had gone anywhere else, there would be footprints. The snow in theroad had been so packed down by passing vehicles that a person walkingwould leave no trace.
"Where can she be?" exclaimed Nyoda anxiously after a fruitless search ofsome ten minutes.
"Do you think she could have climbed a tree?" asked Hinpoha.
"And be roosting on a branch?" asked Katherine, and they all had to laughin spite of their concern.
"Well, you never can tell what Sahwah will do next," returned Hinpoha,"especially in her sleep. You haven't known her as long as we have. Oncein camp she climbed to the top of the diving tower and jumped off. So Iguess climbing a tree wouldn't be impossible for her."
"Hark, girls," said Nyoda, bending her head in a listening attitude."Don't you hear music?" The others listened, but could hear nothing."When that breath of wind came in this direction I thought I heard it,"said Nyoda. "There it is, again." This time they all heard it, faint andfar, a soft strain of music, but what kind of music or whence it camethey could not make out.
"It came with the wind," said Nyoda, "so we must walk against the windand see if we can find it." Heading into the wind they walked up theroad. They shivered as they walked and the snow crunched under theirfeet. The very moonlight seemed cold as it touched them and the starsglistened like splintered icicles. Verily, it was a cold night to besleepwalking. The music began to sound more clearly now, and at a turn inthe road they stopped still in amazement at the sight before their eyes.There in the road just ahead of them ambled Sandhelo, and by his sidewalked Sahwah, dressed in her troubadour costume, the red cloak flyingout in the breeze. She held her mouth organ to her lips, and the drawingof her breath in and out of it was producing the strains of music whichthe girls had followed. As they suspected, she was sound asleep. Theyhurried forward to waken Sahwah, and she turned around and faced them.Her eyes were wide open in the moonlight. A moment she looked at them andthen turned suddenly and swung herself onto Sandhelo's back. At her touchon his bridle Sandhelo started and then began running down the road asfast as he could. Sahwah woke up, gave one shriek of fright, and thenmechanically dug her knees into his sides and hung on. Sandhelo did nothave his regular harness on, only his bridle, and she was riding barebackin this strange adventure. The girls pursued as fast as they could,shouting at the top of their voices, but of course they were soon leftbehind. Far ahead of them in the moonlit road they saw Sandhelo stopsuddenly and slide his rider over his head into a snowdrift and then sitdown on his haunches beside her like a dog. Sahwah had emerged from herdrift and was shaking the snow off when the others came up. "What's thematter?" she asked in a bewildered tone. "How did I get out here?"
"Home first, explanations afterward," said Nyoda, wrapping her in thebear rug she had brought with her. And they made Sahwah run every step ofthe way back to the Lodge, and swallow quarts of hot lemonade before theywould tell her a single thing.
Migwan insisted on tying Sahwah's foot to the post of Nyoda's bed for therest of the night to insure her being there in the morning. They had justgotten quieted down when the ropes of Katherine's hammock broke and downshe came with a resounding crash.
Morning found them heavy-eyed and full of yawns, but to all inquirersthey stoutly maintained that the select sleeping party had been the bestever.
The Camp Fire Girls' Larks and Pranks; Or, The House of the Open Door Page 8
