Campfire Girls in the Allegheny Mountains | Page 2

school, and when
Uncle Sam became involved in the European war, the national need for
nurses appealed strongly to Camp Fire Girls everywhere. What could
they do? The very nature of the training of the girls from Wood
Gatherer to Torch Bearer made the question, so far as they were
concerned, a self-answering one. They had all the broad commonsense
rudiments of nursing. With some advanced science on top of this, they
would be experts.
But military authorities said that the nurses ought to have some military
drill. War nurses must be organized, and there was no better method of
effecting this orderly requisite than by military training.
One well-known captain of infantry informed Madame Cleaver that
war nurses could not reach the highest grade of efficiency unless they
were able to march in columns from one camp to another and be
distributed in squads at the points needed.
With all this information at her tongue's end, the madame put the
matter to her uniformed girls in the assembly hall. Rumor of what was
coming had reached them in advance, so that it did not fall as a surprise.
The vote was unanimous in favor of the plan. The needed nursing

expert was already a member of the faculty. The classes were formed a
few days later.
These were the girls that gathered around a big out-door campfire--it
was really a bonfire--in the snow of mid-winter on the evening of the
opening of this story. Most of them were rich men's daughters, but
there were no snobs among them. They were girls of vigor and vim,
intelligence and imagination, practical and industrious. They were
lively and fond of a good time, but--most of them, at least,--would not
slight a duty for pleasure. Behind every enjoyment was a pathway of
tasks well done.
Madame Cleaver was Chief Guardian of the fifteen Camp Fires of the
Institute. The faculty was not large enough to supply all the adult
guardians required, but that fact did not prove by any means an
insurmountable difficulty. More than enough young women in
Westmoreland, well qualified to fill positions of this kind, volunteered
to donate their services in order to make the Camp Fire organization of
the school complete. Indeed, these volunteer Guardians added
materially to their influence and rank in the community by becoming
connected with the Institute. There was, in fact, a waiting list of
volunteers constantly among the social leaders of the place.
The Chief Guardian was mistress of ceremonies at the Grand Council
Fire. Two hundred and thirty-nine girls in uniform, brown coats,
campfire hats, and brown duck hiking boots, stood around the fire
answering "Kolah" in unison by groups as the roll of the Fires was
called. As each Fire was called and the answer returned, the Guardian
stepped forward and gave a little recitation of current achievements.
This program was varied here and there with music by a girls' chorus
and a girls' orchestra. Everything went along with the smoothness,
although with some of the deep dips and lofty lifts, of Grand Opera,
until the name of the last Camp Fire, Flamingo, was called. Miss
Harriet Ladd, the Guardian, stepped forward and said:
"Madame Chief Guardian, associate guardians, and Camp Fire Girls of
Hiawatha Institute, I bring to you a message of things planned by
Flamingo Camp Fire Girls, thirteen in number. As you know, there is in

an adjoining state a strike of coal miners that has caused much
suffering among the poor families of the strikers. High Peak lives in a
mountain mining district. Her father is a mine owner and has given his
consent to the extending of an invitation to Flamingo Camp Fire to
work among these poor families and give them relief during the
Christmas holidays. The arrangements have been completed, and the
girls will start for Hollyhill tomorrow."
"Hooray, hooray, hooray! Hooray for High Peak! Hooray for Marion
Stanlock! Hooray for Flamingo Camp Fire."
The cheers, shrill on the sharp winter air, now in unison, now in
confusion, came not from the assembled Camp Fire Girls, although
from nearly as many voices. Out from the timber thicket to the west of
the campus rushed a small army of khaki-clad figures. There were a
few screams among the girls, but not many. To be sure, everybody was
thrilled, but nobody fainted. There were a few moments of suspense,
followed by bursts of laughter and applause from the girls.
"It's the Spring Lake Boy Scouts," cried Marion Stanlock, who was first
to announce an explanation of the surprise. "Clifford, Clifford Long,
are you responsible for this?"
The Boy Scout patrol leader thus addressed did not reply, though he
recognized the challenge with a wave of his hand.
He was busy bringing his patrol in matching line with the other