The Camp Fire Girls at School; Or, The Wohelo Weavers

by Hildegard G. Frey

  CHAPTER XI.

  ANOTHER COASTING PARTY.

  "This is the terrible Hunger Moon, the lean gray wolf can hardly bay,"quoted Hinpoha, as she threw out a handful of crumbs for the birds. Theground was covered with ice and snow, and the wintry winds whistledthrough the bare trees in the yard, ruffling up the feathers of the poorlittle sparrows huddling on the branches.

  Gladys stood beside Hinpoha, watching the hungry little winter citizensflying hastily down to their feast. "What is Mr. Bob barking at?" sheasked, pausing to listen.

  "I'll go and find out," said Hinpoha. From the porch she could see Mr.Bob standing under an evergreen tree in the back yard, barking up at itwith all his might. Hinpoha came out to see what was the matter. "Hush,Mr. Bob," she commanded, throwing a snowball at him. She picked her waythrough the deep snow to the tree. "Oh, Gladys, come here," she called.Gladys came out and joined her.

  "What is it?" she asked. Huddled up in the low branches of the tree wasa great ghostly looking bird, white as the snow under their feet. Itseyes were closed and it was apparently asleep. Hinpoha stretched out herhand and touched its feathers. It woke up with a start and looked at herwith great round eyes full of alarm.

  "It's an owl!" said Hinpoha in amazement, "a snowy owl! It must haveflown across the lake from Canada. They do sometimes when the food isscarce and the cold too intense up there." The owl blinked and closedhis eyes again. The glare of the sun on the snow blinded him. He actedstupid and half frozen, and sat crouched close against the trunk of thetree, making no effort to fly away.

  "How tame he is!" said Gladys. "He doesn't seem to mind us in theleast." Hinpoha tried to stroke him but he jerked away and tumbled tothe ground. One wing was apparently broken. Mr. Bob made a leap for thebird as he fell, but Hinpoha seized him by the collar and dragged himinto the house. When she returned the owl was making desperate effortsto get up into the tree again by jumping, but without success. Hinpohacaught him easily in spite of his struggles and bore him into the house.There was an empty cage down in the cellar which had once housed aparrot, and into this the solemn-eyed creature was put.

  "That wing will heal again, and then we can let him go," said Hinpoha.

  "Hadn't it better be tied down?" suggested Gladys. "He flutters it somuch." With infinite pains Hinpoha tied the broken wing down to thebird's side, using strips of gauze bandage for the purpose. The owl madeno sound. They fixed a perch in the cage and he stepped decorously up onit and regarded them with an intense, mournful gaze. "Isn't he spookylooking?" said Gladys, shivering and turning away. "He gives me thecreeps."

  "What will we feed him?" asked Hinpoha.

  "Do owls eat crumbs?" asked Gladys.

  Hinpoha shook her head. "That isn't enough. I've always read that theycatch mice and things like that to eat." She brightened up. "There areseveral mice in the trap now. I saw them when I brought up the cage."She sped down cellar and returned with three mice in a trap.

  "Ugh," said Gladys in disgust, as Hinpoha pulled them out by the tails.She put them in the cage with the owl and he pecked at them hungrily."What will your aunt say when she sees him?" asked Gladys.

  "I don't know," said Hinpoha doubtfully. Aunt Phoebe was away for theafternoon and so had not been in a position to interfere thus far.

  "Maybe I had better take the cage home with me," suggested Gladys.

  "No," said Hinpoha firmly, "I want him myself. I'll tell you what I'lldo. I'll put the cage up in the attic and she'll never know I have him.I can slip up and feed him. It would be better for him up there, anyway.It's too warm for him downstairs. He's used to a cold climate." So"Snowy," as they had christened him, was established by a window underthe eaves on the third floor, where he could look out at the trees forwhich he would be pining. Aunt Phoebe always took a nap after lunch, andthis gave Hinpoha a chance to run up and look at her patient. She fedhim on chicken feed and mice when there were any. Never did he show theslightest sign of friendliness or recognition when she hovered over him;but continued to stare sorrowfully at her with an unblinking eye. If heliked his new lodging under the cozy eaves he made no mention of it, andif he pined for his winter palace in the Canadian forest he was equallyuncommunicative. Hinpoha longed to poke him in order to make him givesome expression of feeling. But at all events, he did not struggleagainst his captivity, and Hinpoha reflected judicially that after allit was a good thing that he had such a stolid personality, for a calmframe of mind aids the recovery of the patient and he would not belikely to keep his wing from healing by dashing it against the side ofthe cage. It seemed almost as though he knew his presence in the housewas a secret, and was in league with Hinpoha not to betray himself. SoAunt Phoebe lived downstairs in blissful ignorance of the featheredboarder in the attic.

  She was suffering from a cold that week and was more than usuallyexacting. She finally took to her bed in an air-tight room with amustard plaster and an electric heating pad, expressing her intention ofstaying there until her cold was cured. "But you ought to have somefresh air," protested Hinpoha, "you'll smother in there with all thatheat."

  "You leave that window shut," said Aunt Phoebe crossly. "All thisfoolishness about open windows makes me tired. It's a pity if a younggirl has to tell her elders what's best for them. Now bring the Historyof the Presbyterian Church, and read that seventh chapter over again; mymind was preoccupied last night and I did not hear it distinctly." Thiswas Aunt Phoebe's excuse for having fallen asleep during the reading. Sopoor Hinpoha had to sit in that stifling room and read until she thoughtshe would faint. Aunt Phoebe fell asleep presently, however, to hergreat relief, and she stole out softly, leaving the door open behind herso that some air could get in from the hall.

  Aunt Phoebe woke up in the middle of the night feeling decidedlyuncomfortable. She was nearly baked with the heat that was being appliedon all sides. She turned off the heating pad and threw back one of thecovers, and as she grew more comfortable sleep began to hover near. Shewas just sinking off into a doze when she suddenly started up in terror.There was a presence in the room--something white was moving silentlytoward the bed. Aunt Phoebe was terribly superstitious and believed inghosts as firmly as she believed in the gospel. She always expected tosee a sheeted figure standing in the hall some night, its handoutstretched in solemn warning. But this ghost was more terrifying thanany she had ever imagined. It was not in the form of a being atall--just a formless Thing that moved with strange jerks and starts,sometimes rising at least a foot in the air. The hair stood up straighton Aunt Phoebe's head, and her lips became so dry they cracked. Then herheart almost stopped beating altogether. The ghost rose in the air andstood on her bed, where it continued its uncanny movements. Aunt Phoebefolded her hands and began to pray. The ghost sailed upward once moreand stood on the foot board of her bed. Aunt Phoebe prayed harder."Hoot!" said the ghost. Aunt Phoebe moaned. "Hoot!" said the ghost. AuntPhoebe tried to scream, but her throat was paralyzed. "Hoot!" said theghost. Aunt Phoebe found her voice. "WOW-OW-OW-OW!" she screeched intones that could have been heard a block.

  Hinpoha jumped clear out of bed in one leap and reached Aunt Phoebe'sroom in one more. Visions of burglars and fire were in her mind. Hastilyshe turned on the light. Aunt Phoebe was sitting up in bed stillscreaming at the top of her lungs, and on the footboard of the bed satSnowy, blinking in the sudden light. Hinpoha stood frozen to the spot.How had the bird gotten out? "Snowy!" she stammered. The owl looked ather with his old solemn stare, and then slowly he winked one eye. "Stopscreaming, Aunt Phoebe," said Hinpoha; "it's nothing but an owl."

  "_An owl_!" exclaimed Aunt Phoebe faintly. "How could an owl get in herewith all the doors and windows shut?"

  "But I left your door open when I went out," said Hinpoha, "and Snowymust have gotten out of his cage and come down the attic stairs."

  "Must have gotten out of his cage!" echoed Aunt Phoebe. "Do you mean totell me that you have an owl in a cage somewhere in this house?" Therewas no use denying the fact any more, as Snowy had given himself away
socompletely, and Hinpoha told about finding the snowy owl in the yard andputting it up in the cage. "What next!" gasped Aunt Phoebe. "I suppose Ishall wake up some morning and find a boa constrictor in my bed."

  "I'm sorry he frightened you so," said Hinpoha contritely, "but I'll seethat he doesn't get out again. I may keep him until his wing heals,mayn't I?" she asked pleadingly.

  "I suppose there's no getting around you," sighed Aunt Phoebe, sinkingback on her pillow. "If it wasn't a bird you'd be having something else.Only keep him out of my sight!" Hinpoha caught the owl and carried himout with many flutters and pecks. The cage door stood open and the wireswere bent out, showing where his powerful bill had pecked until hegained his freedom. Hinpoha fastened him in again and he steppeddecorously up on his perch and sat there in such a dignified attitudethat it was hard to believe him capable of breaking jail and entering alady's bedroom.

  Aunt Phoebe spent the next day in bed, recovering from her fright. Thiswas the night of the Camp Fire meeting which Hinpoha had been givenpermission to attend. She had been in such a fever of anticipation allweek that Aunt Phoebe was surprised when she came into her room aftersupper and sat down with the History of the Presbyterian Church. "Well,aren't you going to that precious meeting of yours?" she asked sharply.

  "I think," said Hinpoha slowly, "that I had better stay at home withyou."

  "I won't die without you," said Aunt Phoebe drily. "I can ring for Maryif I want anything."

  A mighty struggle was going on inside of Hinpoha. First she saw in hermind's eye her beloved Winnebagos, having a meeting at Nyoda's house,the place where she best loved to go to meetings, waiting to welcome herback into their midst with open arms; and then she saw this cross oldwoman, her aunt, sick and lonesome, left alone in the house with a maidwho despised her. With the cup of enjoyment raised to her lips she setit down again. "I think I would _rather_ stay with you, Aunt Phoebe,"she said simply. And in the Desert of Waiting there blossomed a fragrantrose!

  The deferred celebration for Hinpoha's return into the Winnebago foldwas held the following week. With the joy of the returned pilgrim shetook her place in the Council Circle, and once more joined in singing,"Burn, Fire, Burn," and "Mystic Fire," and this time when Nyoda calledthe roll and pronounced the name "Hinpoha," she was answered by a joyous"Kolah" instead of the sorrowful silence which had followed that namefor so many weeks.

  February froze, thawed, snowed and sleeted itself off the calendar, andMarch set in like a roaring lion, with a worse snowstorm than even theSnow Moon had produced. Venturesome treebuds, who loved the warm sunlike Aunt Phoebe loved her heating pad, and who had crept out of theirdark blankets one balmy day in February to be nearer the genial heatgiver, shivered until their sap froze in their veins, and a drab-coloredphoebe bird, who had nested under the eaves of the Bradford porch theyear before, coming back to his summer residence according to the datemarked on his calendar, huddled disconsolately beside the old nest,feeling sure that he would contract bronchitis before the wife of hisbosom arrived to join him.

  Hinpoha listened to his disgruntled "pewit phoebe, pewit phoebe," andmade haste to throw him some crumbs. It seemed like a delicious joke toher that he should be calling so plaintively for his phoebe, not knowingthat there was a Phoebe on the premises all the while. And one day thelittle mate came and both birds forgot the snow and cold in the joy oftheir reunion. Phoebes consider it extremely indecorous to travel inmixed company, (just like Aunt Phoebe, thought Hinpoha humorously,) sothe females linger behind for several days after the males start northand join them in the seclusion of their own homes. Hinpoha's heart sangin sympathy with the joy of the reunited lovers.

  Sahwah had come over to get her lessons with Hinpoha, and as she turnedthe leaves of her "Cicero" a little red heart dropped out on the floor.Hinpoha stooped to pick it up. "What's this?" she asked with interest.Sahwah blushed.

  "Ned Roberts--you remember Ned Roberts up at camp--sent it to me for avalentine." Hinpoha went back in her thoughts to the dance at theMountain Lake Camp the summer before, where she had had such a royalgood time. How far removed that time seemed now!

  "I wonder if Sherry ever writes to Nyoda," she said musingly.

  "I don't believe he does," said Sahwah, "for Nyoda has never saidanything." If they could have seen Nyoda at that very moment, reading acertain letter and thrusting it into her bureau drawer with a pile ofothers bearing the same post-mark, they would really have had somethingto gossip about.

  "Did you ever see such a snowfall in March?" said Hinpoha, looking outthe window at the white landscape.

  "It must be perfectly grand coasting," said Sahwah, ever with an eye forsport. "Dick Albright promised he would take us out on his new bob thenext time there was snow, and this is the next time, and will probablybe the last time. Do you suppose you could come along?"

  "I doubt it," said Hinpoha. "Aunt Phoebe thinks coasting is too rough.Did I ever tell you the time mother and I coasted down the walk and raninto Aunt Phoebe?" Sahwah laughed heartily over the story.

  "Poor Aunt Phoebe!" she said, wiping the tears of laughter from hereyes. "She is bound to get all the shocks that flesh is heir to."

  As she was walking home through the snow that afternoon some one came upbehind her and took her books from her hand. It was Dick Albright. "Goodafternoon, Miss Brewster," he said formally.

  "Good afternoon, _Mr_. Albright," said Sahwah in the same tone, her eyesdancing in her head. Then she burst out, "Oh, Dick, won't you take uscoasting to-morrow night? This is positively the last snow of theseason."

  "Sure," said Dick. "Take you to-night if you want to."

  Sahwah shook her head. "'Strictly nothing doing,' to quote your ownelegant phrase," she said. "I've a German test on to-morrow morning, andconsequently have an engagement with my friend Wilhelm Tell to-night.I've simply got to get above eighty-five in this test or go belowpassing for the month. I got through last month without ever looking atit, but it won't work again this month."

  "How did you do it?" asked Dick.

  "Why," answered Sahwah, "when it came to the test and we were asked totell the story of the book I simply wrote down, 'I can't tell you thatone, but I can tell another just as good,' and I did. Old Prof.Fruehlingslied was so floored by my 'blooming cheek' that he passed me,but he has had a watchful eye on me ever since." Dick laughed outright.

  "I never saw anything like you," he said, swinging her books around inhis hand. The red heart fell out into the snow. Dick picked it up."Who's your friend?" he said, deliberately reading the name, andimmediately filled with jealous pangs. Dick liked Sahwah better than anygirl in school. Her irrepressible, fun--loving nature held himfascinated. Sahwah liked Dick, too, but no better than she liked most ofthe boys in the class. Sahwah was a poor hand to regard a boy as a"beau." Boys were good things to skate with, or play ball or go rowingwith; they came in handy when there were heavy things to lift, and allthat; but in none of these things did one seem to have any advantageover the others, so it was immaterial to her which one she had a goodtime with. The good time was the main thing to her. Sahwah had afifteen--year--old brother, and she knew what a boy was under his whitecollar and "boiled" shirt. There was no silly sentimentality in herspicy make-up. She was a royal good companion when there was any fungoing on, but it was about as easy to "get soft" with her as with astone fence post. She was a master hand at ridicule and the boys knewthis and respected her accordingly. In spite of all this Dick'sadmiration of her remained steadfast, and he would have attempted tojump over the moon if she had dared him to do it. Hence the valentinesigned "Ned Roberts" piqued him. Sahwah had ordered him not to send herone and he had meekly obeyed. It hurt him to think any one else had theright to do it.

  "Who's your friend?" he repeated as he handed her the heart.

  "Oh, somebody," said Sahwah, enjoying the opportunity of teasing him.And that was all he could get out of her, in spite of numerousquestions.

  "You'll surely go coasting to-morrow night?" he said as he
left her infront of her house.

  "I surely will,"' said Sahwah, flashing him a brilliant smile, "Iwouldn't miss it for the world!" If ever a girl had the power to allureand torment a boy that girl was Sahwah.

  * * * * *

  The house belonging to the Gardiners was now rented, together with thefurnished room, and brought in thirty dollars a month, which madehousekeeping much smoother sailing for Migwan, but the fact stillremained that the money which was to have put her into college the nextyear was spent, and there was no present prospect of replacing it. Hermother was now home from the hospital and fully on the road to recovery,and Migwan tried to make her happiness over this fact overbalance herdisappointment at her own loss. None of her stories or picture plays hadbeen accepted, and of late she had had to give up writing, for with hermother sick most of the housework fell on her shoulders. Although shemaintained a bright and cheery exterior, she went about mourning insecret for her lost career, as she called it, and the heart went out ofher studying.

  She was walking soberly through the hall at school one morning when sheheard somebody call out, "Oh, Miss Gardiner, come here a minute." It wasProfessor Green, standing in the door of his class room. "There issomething I want to tell you about," he said, smiling down at her whenshe came up to him. "You like to study History pretty well, don't you?"Migwan nodded. Next to Latin, history was her favorite study. "Well,"resumed Professor Green, "here is a chance for you to do something withit. You remember that Professor Parsons who lectured to the school onvarious historical subjects last winter? You know he is a perfect crankon having boys and girls learn history. He has now offered a prize of$100 to the boy or girl in the graduating class of this High School whocan pass the best examination in Ancient, Medieval and Modern History.You have had all three of those subjects, have you not?"

  "Yes," said Migwan, eagerly.

  "The examination is to take place the last week in April," continuedProfessor Green. "'A word to the wise is sufficient.' You are one of thebest students of history in the class."

  Migwan went away after thanking him for telling her about it, feeling asif she were treading on air. There was no doubt in her mind about herability to learn history, as there was about geometry. She had anamazing memory for dates and events and in her imaginative mind thehappenings of centuries ago took form and color and stood out as vividlyas if she saw them passing by in review. Her heart beat violently whenshe thought that she had as good a chance, if not better than any oneelse in the class, of winning that $100 prize. This would pay hertuition in the local university for the first year. She resolved tothrow her fruitless writing to the winds and put all her strength intoher history. The world stretched out before her a blooming, sunnymeadow, instead of a stagnant fen, and exultantly she sang to herselfone of the pageant songs of the Camp Fire Girls:

  "Darkness behind us, Peace around us, Joy before us, White Flame forever!"

  That morning the announcement of the prize examination was made to thewhole class, and Abraham Goldstein also resolved that he would win that$100.

  The snow lasted over another day and the next night Sahwah and DickAlbright and a half dozen other girls and boys went coasting. It wasbright moonlight and the air was clear and crisp, just cold enough tokeep the snow hard and not cold enough to chill them as they sat on thebob. The place where they went coasting was down the long lake drive inthe park, an unbroken stretch of over half a mile. Halfway down theslope the land rose up in a "thank--you--marm," and when the bob struckthis it shot into the air and came down again in the path with athrilling leap which never failed to make the girls shriek. Migwan wasthere in the crowd, and Gladys, and one or two more of the Winnebagos.Dick Albright was in his element as he steered the bob down the longwhite lane, for Sahwah sat right behind him, shouting merry nonsenseinto his ear. "Now let me steer," she commanded, when they had gone downa couple of times.

  "Don't you do it, Dick," said one of the other boys, "she'll never steerus around the bend." Dick hesitated. There was a sharp turn in the road,right near the bottom of the descent, and as the bob had acquired a highdegree of speed by the time it reached this point, it required quickwork to make the turn.

  "If you don't let me steer just once I'll never speak to you again, DickAlbright," said Sahwah, with flashing eyes. Dick wavered. The chanceswere that Sahwah would land them safely at the bottom, and he thought itworth the risk of a possible spill to stay in her good graces.

  "All right, go ahead," he said, "I believe you can do it all right. Becareful when you come to the turn, that's all." Sahwah slid in behindthe steering wheel and they started off. The sled traveled faster thanit did before, but Sahwah negotiated both the thank--you--marm and theturn with as much skill as Dick himself could have done it, and danced atriumphant war dance when she had brought the bob safely to a stop.

  "There now, smarty," she said to the boy who had mistrusted her powers,"you see that a girl can do it as well as a boy."

  "_You_ certainly can," said Dick, no less pleased than she herself ather success, "and you may steer the bob the rest of the evening if youwant to."

  Sahwah engineered two or three more trips and then the excitement lostits tang for her as the element of danger was removed, for the turn hadno difficulties for her. "Let's coast down the side of the hill once,"she suggested.

  "No, thanks," said Migwan, eyeing the steep slope that rose beside thedrive.

  "Oh, come on," pleaded Sahwah; "it's more fun to go down a steep hill.You go so much faster. It lands you in a snowbank at the bottom, butit's perfectly safe." None of the boys and girls appeared anxious to go.Sahwah jumped up and down with impatience. "Oh, you slowpokes!" sheexclaimed, rather crossly. Then she turned to Dick Albright. "Dick," shesaid, "will you come with me even if the others won't?"

  Dick shook his head. "It's dangerous," he answered.

  "You're afraid," said Sahwah tauntingly.

  "I'm not," said Dick hotly.

  "You are too," said Sahwah. "All right if you're afraid, but I know someone who wouldn't be." Now Sahwah had no one definite in mind when shesaid this last, it was simply an effort to make Dick feel small, butDick immediately took it as a reference to the unknown Ned Roberts whohad sent her the valentine, and his jealousy got the better of hisdiscretion.

  "All right," he said, firmly determined to measure up to this pattern ofdauntlessness, "come on if you want to. I'll go with you." The twoclimbed up the steep hill, dragging the bob after them. When Sahwah wassitting behind the steering wheel, poised at the top and ready to makethe swift descent, she shuddered at the sight of the sharp incline. Itlooked so much worse from the top than from the bottom. She would havedrawn back and given it up, but Sahwah had a stubborn pride that shrankfrom saying she was afraid to do anything she had undertaken.

  "Shove off!" she commanded, gritting her chattering teeth together. Thebob shot downward like a cannon ball. In spite of her terror Sahwahenjoyed the sensation. She held firmly on to the steering wheel and madefor the great bank of snow which had been thrown up by the men cleaningthe foot walks. At that moment an automobile turned into the lake drive,and its blinding lights shone full into Sahwah's eyes. Dazzled, sheturned her head away, at the same time jerking the steering wheel to theright. The bob swerved sharply to one side and crashed into a tree. Theforce of the impact threw Dick clear of the sled and he rolled head overheels down the hill, landing in the snow at the bottom badly shaken, butotherwise unhurt. Sahwah lay motionless in the snow beside the wreck ofthe bob.