CHAPTER XIII--AROUND THE CHEER FIRE
The sorry-looking object proved to be the Tike, who between sobs andshivery shakes explained, as the party surrounded her, that tempted bythe mirror-like surface of a dark pool in the middle of the brook shehad stooped to see if she could see her face in it. Unfortunately, herknee slipped on a loose stone, and she had tumbled in.
With much laughter and merriment the girls made a stretcher, tumbled thesomewhat subdued fag into it, and then set off for the wigwam, whereMiss Carol was speedily disrobed and her clothes hung out to dry, as thegirls merrily sang, "on a hickory limb!"
Bundled up in wraps after a few drops of stimulant had been administeredto prevent her taking cold, which made her drowsy, she was left to theministrations of the dream fairies, while the girls hurried off to washthe dishes and finish cleaning up. While this was being performed, thedoctor showed Nathalie how to throw dirt or water on the fires--all butone, which was left for a cheer fire--so as to be sure that they were allout. The girls, he said, had learned a lesson last summer when they lefta fire smoldering when they struck camp. It soon burst into a blaze andif it hadn't been for a party of Scouts who had been off for a tramp thewoods would have been on fire.
Camp duties done, the cheer fire blazed a welcome and the girls hastilycircled around it, and were soon busily engaged in packing the roots oftheir wild flowers with clay, wrapping them in big leaves and tying themsecurely with sweet grasses or string. They were then placed in theTike's basket to delight the heart of some shut-in, whose only outingwas from the window.
When this task was completed the flower specimens were laid in rows, andthen Helen as leader, gave the names of her specimens; each girl havinga like specimen laid it carefully between a sheet of blotting paper toremove the moisture, and then pressed it deftly in her note-book, whereit was fastened with gummed paper across the stems and thick parts ofthe plant. Under each flower was now written its botanical name, itscommon name, the date of finding it, its habitat, and any other datathat could be obtained from the Encyclopedia, who, with flower booksspread before her, was kept busy supplying all the needed information.
Each odd specimen was passed around for inspection, and then the luckyfinder jubilantly placed it on record, while others wrote additionalinformation as to the insects that visit it, whether it is apollen-bearer, if it slept at night, or closed in the sun. The doctorsupplemented Barbara's book lore by stray bits of knowledge that he hadpicked up from actual experience in his many scout rambles. The girlswere only too pleased to listen, being particularly interested in hisaccount of the evolution of color in flowers.
When the time came for telling cheer fire stories, Mrs. Morrow suggestedthat they should be flower stories, stipulating, however, that thelegends told should be about the specimens that had been found in thatday's hike.
With this, the doctor, who was lying on the grass by the side ofNathalie, pulled off his hat which she had decorated with a dandelionwreath, and waving it high so every one could see it in its yellowglory, said he would start the wheel of yarns by telling about themaiden with the fluffy cobweb hair.
As he said "hair," Lillie Bell rose, and in ready imitation of therenowned Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm tragically intoned:
"Robaire! Robaire! Let down your hair!"
The girls burst into peals of laughter, for even in the sleepy town ofWestport every one had seen the beloved Rebecca, and keenly appreciatedLillie's timely pose.
"But this slim bit of a girl," smiled the doctor, "didn't let down heryellow tresses, they just flew with the wind, until Shawondassee--this isan Indian legend--the South Wind saw her. Instead of seeking thiswitching maiden, whom he admired so deeply, he was lulled to sleep bythe fragrance of the summer flowers and forgot all about her. The nextday he again spied his yellow charmer away off among the grasses of themeadows, but after lazily wishing she would come to him he snoozed offagain. To his horror, the next day he found that the maiden's tresseswere gone, and that in her place stood an old woman who looked as ifJack Frost had sprinkled her with his silver dust.
"'Ah,' sighed Shawondassee, 'my brother the North Wind has done thiswrong.' So he hurriedly arose and blew his horn loud and fierce to thewhitened figure standing so forlornly out in the fields. But alas, ashis soft breezes whistled gently about the old woman, her snow-whitehair fell to the ground, and then she, too, soon disappeared, leavingnothing but a few upright stems and a bunch of withered leaves. She wasthe dandelion, whose petals turn to fluffy hair when touched by theNorth Wind. This yellow maiden is said to be a symbol of the sun, andhas been named Dandelion because it is claimed that its petals resemblea lion's tooth."
The common little field flower seemed to have gained in interest afterthe legend, and was examined with greater curiosity, while the Scribehurriedly wrote the legend on a stray page of her copy-pad to feature itin the "Pioneer."
Lillie Bell, who had gathered a number of wild forget-me-nots, told apathetic German legend about that sweetheart flower, while Helenexplained that the marigold, instead of being such a common plant, wasin reality the bride of the sun. It was once a maiden named Caltha, who,in reward for her faithfulness to the sun, was finally lost in hisgolden rays, and on the spot where she used to stand and gaze at herfiery lover the marigold grew.
Nathalie, who had been deeply interested in the legends, experiencedsomewhat of a shock when Mrs. Morrow suddenly said, "Now, Nathalie, arewe not to hear a flower legend, or some kind of a story from you?"
"Oh, I am a poor hand at story-telling," the girl speedily answered.
"Hear! hear! this is treason!" called Helen loudly, "for a Pioneer whohas won fame as a Story Lady!"
"Oh, that is different," pleaded her friend in mild despair, "those wereonly children's stories."
"To be able to tell stories to children, Nathalie, and to keep theirattention," spoke Mrs. Morrow, "shows ability, and if we have so gifteda Pioneer I think it is our due to hear from her."
"And then, Nathalie," urged Grace, "every Pioneer has to know how totell stories, and this is a good time to make a beginning."
"Well, I see I am doomed, notwithstanding my protests," said the girlafter a short pause. "I will try to tell one if you will let me put onmy thinking-cap for a moment." As permission was accorded to thisrequest, Nathalie turned and glanced helplessly at the doctor, as if shemight find inspiration in his merry eyes, Helen laughingly declared.
Nathalie blushed as the doctor shook his head and said, "No, hike-mate,I am at your service in everything but a story, for I ran dry when Itold mine. Then I know you have nerve and brains enough to do your ownthinking."
"Oh, I know one!" the girl suddenly cried as her face lighted, and thenclosing her eyes for a moment, as if to invoke the aid of some unknownmuse, she said, "I read it in a newspaper the other day. It is about aflower, but I will let you guess its name."
"It was in the spring," she continued slowly, "and old Peboan sat alonein his ragged tepee. His hair fell about his time-worn face likeglistening icicles as he shivered in his fur robes; oh, so cold, so weakand hungry, for he had had no food for days. As he bent over to blowupon the smoldering embers that glowed at his feet, he besought theGreat Spirit to come to his aid.
"As he thus prayed and lamented a handsome young girl stepped within thetent. Her eyes were as blue as the summer sky and were filled with aliquid light, while her golden hair floated gracefully with the wind.Her cheeks were like apple blossoms and her gown was made of sweetgrasses and green leaves. In her arms she carried twigs of thepussy-willow. Going softly to the old man, she cried in a voice as sweetas the brook's gentle flow, 'Peboan, what can I do for thee?'
"The old man raised his head as he heard the maiden's sweet voice, andas he saw her in her spring glory he cried bitterly, 'I am hungry andcold. I have lost my power over nature, for the streams have refused tostand still for me. My mantle disappears from the earth as rapidly as Icover it, and the flowers are peeping from their brown beds, although Ihave bidd
en them sleep.'
"'Peboan,' replied the maiden, 'I am Seguin, the summer manitou; theflowers are obeying me, for I have bidden them arise. The leaves arebudding on the trees, the pussies are out in all their furry finery, forI, Seguin, now possess the earth. The snow and ice have disappeared, forthey have obeyed my voice, and your power is gone. All nature pays mehomage, for I am the Queen of the earth, the Goddess of spring!
"'Peboan, you are the winter manitou, and the Great Spirit calls you!Now go!' As Seguin said these words she gently waved her wand over theold man's head as it sank between his shoulders.
"The winter manitou made no reply, but drew his furs closer about hisshivering form, and then, as he heard the song of the spring birds, andthe rustling of the leaves in the sunshine, he sank to the ground.
"As a ray of the warm sun filtered through the top of the tepee and fellupon the old man, who lay exhausted on the earth; Seguin again raisedher wand, and the winter manitou disappeared. His furs had turned todancing leaves; his tepee to a tall tree. Then Seguin stooped, andgathering a handful of the leaves from the tree she breathed onthem--very softly--and then threw them on the earth. They immediatelystood upright, each holding forth a tiny pink flower, gay with adelicate perfume.
"'Grow and blossom,' cried the spring maiden softly, 'and bloom awelcome to the hearts of those who are depressed by winter's gales, foryou are a token that Peboan, the winter manitou is gone. You are thefirst flower that comes in the spring.' Now what is the name of it?"ended Nathalie abruptly.
"Snowdrop!" called Helen quickly. Nathalie shook her head.
"Violet!" timidly ventured some one.
"Violet?" the Sport repeated scornfully. "Who ever heard of a pinkviolet? Nathalie said this flower was pink."
Mrs. Morrow broke the sudden silence that followed the Sport's remark bysaying softly, "I think it is the arbutus!"
"That's it!" cried Nathalie, and then to her bewilderment every onebegan to clap again. As the clapping continued, the girls meanwhile,watching her with sparkling eyes, Nathalie turned and whispered to thedoctor, "Why, what are they clapping for?"
But before he could reply the Sport shouted, "Hurrah for the StoryLady!"
The cry was repeated again and again to Nathalie's confusion. In amoment, however, her wits asserted themselves, and springing to herfeet, with a low sweeping courtesy she cried, "Thank you, fellowPioneers, I am glad you liked my first cheer-fire story!"
The clapping now subsided, and after several had expressed theiradmiration by saying that the story was the "best ever," Mrs. Morrowstarted a floral conundrum, which proved a thriller, the doctor claimed,as he sat with humorous eyes and watched the girls, who all sat up andtook notice, as one after the other called out the name of a flower inanswer to the questions propounded by their Director.
When the questions had all been answered, it was discovered that thenames of the star actors in this little floral drama, the color of theireyes, hair, and so on, as well as the musical instrument played by thelover, the words of his proposal, the wedding, and even the time andplace of the honeymoon, had all been answered by the names of flowers.
Lillie Bell, at Mrs. Morrow's request, took her mandolin, and afterthrumming it softly broke into a quaint low strain of melody, whileLouise sang in her sweet little soprano voice, "All in a Garden Fair,""Fortune My Foe," and "Nymphs and Shepherds," each number being one of agroup of old English songs dating as far back as 1555. After receivingan encore, Louise favored them with "Polly Willis," and "Golden SlumberKiss Your Eyes," two more popular ballads of the seventeenth century.
These old-time songs were a surprise for Mrs. Morrow, who had often beenheard to remark that it was a pity, as they were Pioneers, that they didnot know some of the songs that used to be sung in those days, insteadof ragtime songs. But ragtime was not altogether displaced, for in a fewminutes the girls were singing "The Sweet Little Girl with the QuaintSqueegee," "Dry yo' Eyes," and "My Little Dream Girl," with a verve andgusto that made the woods resound to the ring of their girlish voices.
By this time cramped limbs and the joyousness of life assertedthemselves, and every one began to feel that they wanted to run, leap,and jump, so at the doctor's suggestion they played the Scout game of"Stalking." The doctor was the deer, not hiding, but standing and movinga little now and then as he liked, while the girls vied with one anotherin trying to touch him without being seen.
The doctor did his part so well that he was duly tantalizing, thePioneers declared, as they watched him with strained eyes, being unableto catch him napping. When the doctor called "Time," the game ended byall the girls coming to a halt on the spot where they were standing whenthe call sounded, the girl nearest the deer winning the game.
Prisoner's Base was then started; the goals were marked off, the playersdivided into two sections, one stationed in each goal, and then the funbegan. A girl would advance towards the opposite goal, and then run backinto safety, while one of her mates came to her rescue by chasing herpursuer, who, in turn, was rescued by one of her own mates. The rushingabout gave health, glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes attesting thatmuscles, limbs, and blood were being exercised to a good purpose. Butafter the doctor had again defeated them by never getting caught, thegame was abandoned, the girls all vowing he was magic-limbed, for he wasso quick and agile on his feet.
After a short time spent in practicing bird calls, as it was nearing thetime to return home the hikers gathered up their belongings, packedtheir knapsacks, and with staffs in hand started out on the homewardhike. They all declared that they were not a bit fatigued by the day'sactivities, and jested merrily one with another, or happily sangsnatches of songs as they wended their way back to town.
By the time they had reached the cross-roads their spirits had subsidedsomewhat, all but the Sport's, who teasingly whisked off Barbara's hatand the next instant was whizzing down the road with it clutched in herhand.
Barbara, notwithstanding her weighty nickname of the Encyclopedia, wasagile, and lost no time in flying after her, urged to speed by thegirls. Although inclined to poke fun sometimes at Barbara for herabsent-mindedness and love of books, the girls were her firm friends.They loved her for her kindly heart and sincere efforts to help others.
There was a shout of victory when it was seen that the Encyclopedia hadcaptured her head-gear, and they were all clapping vociferously when anautomobile rounded the bend in the road. The car turned out to be thedoctor's, whose chauffeur had promised to meet him near the cross-roadsas he had to be in his office by five that afternoon.
The doctor quickly assisted Mrs. Morrow into the car as she had decidedto ride, and then stood and waited while the Pioneers--two of whom hadbeen invited to join their Director--urged Kitty with her iron pot, andthe Flower with her griddle to accept the invitation.
The girls finally consented, and with many waves of the hands to thepedestrians, and a loud honk, honk, the car glided down the road and outof sight.
Helen, Nathalie, and Edith, as they lived near one another, bade theirmates good-by, and, as they had decided to take a short cut home, turneddown a side path. As they strolled slowly along a road running by a lowstone wall hedging a pasture, where a brook twisted like a silver cordin the undulating grass, Edith asked her companions if they did not wantto walk to the Bluff, where they would have a fine view of the bay inthe distance.
"Oh, yes," assented Helen, "it is a lovely view, Nathalie, and will onlybe a step out of the way if we go by the brook."
Nathalie, although feeling somewhat tired, was anxious to visit theBluff, and a minute later the three girls climbed the stone barricadeand were keeping pace with the brook's windings as it leapedboisterously over a bed of stones, or crept lingeringly, with murmuringripples, between grass-fringed banks.
Presently they wandered into the shade of the trees, where, toNathalie's surprise, she found the old brook bed. Instead of being earthand stones, however, it was green and flower-starred, overshadowed byweeping willows and silver birches, thei
r interlaced tops bending low asif seeking their old-time friend with its murmuring song.
Lulled by the mossy dell and the fragrance of the woodland posies, thegirls loitered, and did not realize that the afternoon was waning untilthey reached the Bluff. They raced to the top, where Nathalie's joy atbeing the fleetest was forgotten, as with stilled eyes she gazed uponthe fertile strip of valley below, its green specked by tiny whitecottages and washed by the waters of the bay that shone in the glow ofthe setting sun like a sheet of brass.
The air was becoming chilled by the mist that was hovering in thedistance, and they turned and quickly made their way back to the road.Whereupon, Edith insisted that they take the summit road, leading over asmall hill at one end of the town, which she declared would save time.
Her companions assented, and in a short space they were pantinglytrudging up the slope, and then, beginning to realize how tired theywere, they sat down on a rock near the edge of the summit to rest. Luredby the changing colors of the afterglow they grew silent, awed, perhaps,by the calm that hushes all nature when the light of day is fading intothe misty shadows of twilight.
Nathalie had turned from the mountains of pink foam that floated up fromthe golden west, and was gazing down at the town, where little twinklinglights were beginning to peep here and there between the tree-tops, whenEdith suddenly cried, "Oh, look at that smoke!" pointing to a streetjust below the slope where black columns of smoke were rushing upward.
"Some one must be making a big bonfire," answered Helen inertly, as hereyes followed the direction of Edith's finger.
"Why, Helen, that is not a bonfire," was the Sport's quick retort. "Oh,I saw a flame shoot up!" she added excitedly.
"So did I!" exclaimed Nathalie, springing on her feet. "And oh, there'sanother."
"Why, the church is on fire!" shouted Edith. "There--don't you see--theflames are coming out of the back!"
The girls with dazed eyes and beating hearts looked at the old Methodistchurch, set back from a tree mantled road, within a few feet of a whitecottage, the parsonage, that nested like some white bird in the shelterof the waving boughs of the trees.
"Oh, girls," wailed the Sport, as she turned abruptly and gazed at themwith an awe-struck countenance; "it is the church--and the new organ--theywere to finish it to-day!" She wrung her hands frantically.
Her companions made no reply, their eyes were glued on the columns ofsmoke that hurtled in dense masses up into the air.
"I don't believe any one knows about it!" exclaimed Helen. "Oh, whatshall we do? It will be of no use to shout 'Fire!' we are too far away."
"Oh, I know what we can do," cried Edith heatedly. "We can run to thefire-house and give the alarm!"
But Helen had already started forward, and Nathalie followed blindly,not even knowing where the fire-house was. Edith, like the flash of aflame, shot ahead of the two girls, and the next instant was tearinglike some wild thing down the hill. In a few moments she had turned up aroad and was speeding in the direction of a red house with a funnylittle cupola that loomed up above the small cottages surrounding it.
"Fire!" yelled the Sport, as she tore frantically along. Helen took upthe cry, but Nathalie, although she tried to follow her example, onlysucceeded in making a hoarse sound that died away almost as soon as itleft her whitened lips.
As her breath began to come in gasps she was half tempted to stop andlet the other two girls give the alarm. But something told her thatwould not be the act of a Pioneer, and she struggled on until shearrived in front of the old ramshackle building with the red cupolawhich looked as if it had once done service as a barn.
"Oh, there is no one here!" panted Helen as she beat frenziedly with hertwo hands on the big wooden door. "It is barred inside."
But the Sport, like a whirlwind, had flown around to the rear of thebuilding, and the next moment was crawling through a window she hadfound unfastened. It took but a moment's time to speed across the floor,give the bar a pull, and fling wide the door.
The rope had broken in her grasp.]
"We must ring the bell," gasped Helen, as she glanced up at an old ropethat dangled in the center of the fire-house from a big bell which hungmotionless in the small tower above their heads.
The three girls sprang for the rope, but the Sport was the quickest andcaught the dangling rope in her hands. Summoning all her strength shegave it a hard pull. The next instant, as the loud clang of the bellrang out, the girls heard a sudden imprecation, and looked hastily downto see the Sport with a rueful countenance sitting on the floor--the ropehad broken in her grasp!
Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer Page 17
