The Camp Fire Girls in the Maine Woods | Page 3

with a beautiful high forehead and large dreamy
eyes.
So all the girls introduced themselves, Chapa the Chipmunk,
Medmangi the Medicine Man Girl, and Nakwisi the Star Maiden. "And
this," they cried in unison, encircling one of their number with
affectionate arms, "is Nyoda, the best Guardian that ever lived!"
"How do you do, Miss Kent?" said Gladys, in a high, artificially sweet
voice, staring amazedly at her wet clothes and then around at the
dishevelled group. She was a very fair girl, rather tall, but slender and
pale and delicate looking. "Stuck up," was Sahwah's mental estimate.
"How do you do, girls?" she continued, edging, back a little, as if she
were afraid they might also enfold her in a wet embrace, "would you
mind telling me your names?"
"We told you our names," said Sahwah.
"I mean your real names," answered Gladys, "you don't expect me to
remember all those Camp Fire names, do you?"
"Oh, you'll learn them soon enough," said Nyoda, "we left our old
names behind us when we came to camp." Silence fell on the group,
and each girl was acutely conscious of her wet clothes. Sahwah looked
to see Migwan and Gladys fall into each other's arms, but nothing
happened. Nyoda was busy checking over the supplies brought by the
boat. The silence became awkward.

"Look, there's an eagle," shrieked Hinpoha suddenly, pointing to a large
winged bird that was circling slowly above the lake.
"Quick, where's my glass?" said Nakwisi.
"Wait a minute, I'll get it for you," said Sahwah, and quick as a flash
she dove off the end of the dock, coming up with the spy-glass in her
hand. Gladys's eyes nearly popped out of her head as Sahwah cast
herself headlong into the water.
"Awfully sorry, 'Wisi, I dropped it in off the tower," said Sahwah,
tendering her the glass, "will getting it wet hurt it any?" Nakwisi
screwed her beloved glass back and forth and wiped the lenses and
finally reported it unharmed.
"Sahwah, Sahwah," said Nyoda, shaking her head, "you will never
learn to be careful of other people's things?"
Sahwah flushed. "I didn't mean to be careless with it, it just slipped out
of my hand."
Here Hinpoha spoke up. "It's all my fault, Nyoda," she explained. "I hit
her with a pine cone and made her drop it."
Nyoda could do nothing but laugh at the good-natured sparring that
was continually going on between those two. "Come on, girls," she
called, "and get dry clothes on. Whoever gets dressed first may go to
the village with me this afternoon."
The girls scurried up the steep path like squirrels and Nyoda followed
more slowly with Gladys, whose city shoes made it hard for her to
climb. As they went up she explained how she happened to be so wet,
describing in detail the upsetting of the canoes. Gladys's eyes opened
wide at the tale of Sahwah's pranks. "How dreadful," she said with a
shudder, and Nyoda sighed inwardly, for she realized that she had a
problem on her hands.
Gladys Evans was not a regular member of the Winnebago Camp Fire.

She did not attend the public high school where the other girls went,
but went to a private girls' school in the East. Early in the spring, Mr.
Evans, with whom Miss Kent was slightly acquainted, came to her and
offered her group the use of his camping grounds on Loon Lake in
Maine for the summer if they would take Gladys in and teach her to do
the things they did. He had become interested in the Winnebago group
through a picture of them in the newspaper, and thought it would be a
fine thing for Gladys. He and Mrs. Evans were going on an all-summer
trip through Canada with a party of friends, and wanted to put Gladys
where she would have a good time. He added in confidence that Gladys
had been in the company of grown-ups so much that she felt altogether
too grown up herself, and he wished her to romp a whole summer in
bloomers and forget about styles.
Miss Kent gladly accepted the charge. Aside from her willingness to
help Gladys, the offer of a camping ground for the summer was
irresistible. All winter the girls had been trying to find a place to camp
for at least a few weeks the next summer, and had given a play to raise
the money. They had not thought of going so far away as Maine, but
now that they could have the camp without paying for it they could use
the money for railroad fares. Such a shout went up from the
Winnebagos when Miss Kent broke the news that passersby paused to
listen. They sang a dozen different cheers to