Leaving camp in the care of the man from the village, they struck into the path through the woods. The whole earth seemed filled with the scent of flowers and the invigorating odor of the pines.

Here in Maine the wild strawberries were in full prime early in July, and the path was bordered with daisies and other bright flowers. The two swung along in silence with an enjoyment too deep for words, for they appreciated as only Camp Fire Girls can the beauties and, wonders of nature. Back somewhere in the world they had left behind dull care might be beating its incessant tom-tom, and the air was full of wars and rumors of wars, but here every harsh note was drowned in the singing of birds.

"Isn't it glorious?" said Nyoda fervently, drinking in a long breath of the pine-scented air, and swelling out her already well-developed chest.

Presently the path they were on was crossed by another and at the intersection there was a splash of bright red paint on a tree.

"A blaze!" cried Nyoda, stopping short. "Which path did they take, I wonder?" In the road at the foot of the blazed tree lay a small heap of stones pointing in the direction taken by the leaders. "What's this?" asked Nyoda, picking up a small box from beside the stones. It was marked "For Nyoda." She lifted the lid and out hopped a tiny live frog. In the bottom of the box was a piece of paper on which was drawn a sunfish.

So they went on for nearly half an hour, following the red blazes, when suddenly they came upon Chapa and Gladys sitting in the road. Gladys had a blister on her heel. Nyoda bandaged it for her and showed her how to put a piece of adhesive on the other heel to keep it from blistering. The rule of the road was that if one pair caught up with another they were to sit down and give them a ten minutes' start. So Nyoda and Medmangi sat down and waited until Gladys and Chapa were well under way.

The next blaze they struck was truly startling. It was a little silver birch tree with the stem painted entirely red. Nailed to it with a big rusty nail was a piece of cardboard. At the top was written:

"Sahwah and the Starlore Maiden Keep ahead though heavy laden."

Then followed a many-pointed symbol and the words, "See our combination symbol? It's a starfish!" Underneath was a couplet in a different writing.

"Here come Migwan and Hinpoha Two and two like the beasts of Noah."

Underneath that was a verse signed by "The Chipmunk."

"Gladys's heel is full of plaster, Or else we would travel faster."

Nyoda and Medmangi shouted and took the card along for a souvenir, adding the lines,

"Here Nyoda and Medmangi Read the blaze and held a tangi."

A little farther on they discovered the legend:

"Here we sit down in the road, For Sahwah's stocking must be sewed."

"What's the matter, Grumpy?" said Migwan to Hinpoha, who had been stewing around to herself for the last ten minutes.

"It's this old orange I brought along for lunch," burst out Hinpoha. "I don't know what to do with it. If I put it in my bloomers it bangs against my leg, and if I carry it in my bag it bangs against my stomach, and if I carry it in my hand I drop it every other minute. It's driving me crazy."

"Why don't you eat it?" asked Migwan simply.

"Why, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Hinpoha, and soon had the offending orange safely disposed of.

Lunch time found Sahwah and Nakwisi close to a farm house and they went in to ask for a drink of water. The farmer's wife looked curiously at the two girls in bloomers carrying a can of red paint. Sahwah introduced Nakwisi and herself and explained what they were doing. "Land sakes alive!" exclaimed the farmer's wife, "what girls don't do nowadays! Livin' like Indians and walkin' their legs off just for the fun of it! Come right in and I'll see if I can't find something better than water to give you." She bustled out into the summer kitchen and returned with a pitcher of milk and two gla.s.ses. "Here, drink this along with your sandwiches, and try a dish of berries." Sahwah and Nakwisi needed no second invitation. Their sandwiches had been pretty well baked in the sun for the last two hours and were as dry as straw, so the milk and berries were decidedly refreshing.

"How restful it is here," sighed Sahwah luxuriously, leaning back in the cushioned rocking chair. "Can't you stay a spell, girls, and rest up?" said their hostess cordially.

"We have half an hour for our noonday rest," said Sahwah, "and I'd like to take it right in this chair, if you don't mind." She slipped off her shoes and stretched her feet to rest them, closing her eyes meanwhile, and Nakwisi followed suit.

When they finally rose to go the farmer's wife brought out a plate of cookies which she urged them to take along to eat on the road. She stood looking after them for a long time as they trudged along in the yellow dust. "I wish I could go along with 'em, over the hills," she exclaimed suddenly to the unheeding hens that were walking up and down the steps, "I'm tired of staying at home and doing the same things over and over again. I wish I could go along too!"

Chapa and Gladys, following the blazes through the woods, found their path barred at one place by a rather wide brook. The trail was marked again on the other side. "How are we going to get across?" asked Gladys.

"Wade through," said Chapa, briefly, sitting down and commencing to pull off her shoes and stockings.

Gladys put her hand into the water and shook her head. "It's too cold," she said, drawing back.

"No, it isn't," said Chapa, "the rest went through it. Come on, you'll be all right." Stuffing her stockings into her shoes, she threw them to the farther bank, and then stepping into the swift little stream she waded across calmly. Gladys hesitated for several minutes before she could make up her mind to put her feet in the water, but finally, encouraged by Chapa, she stepped gingerly in. "Be careful of the rocks, they're slippery," warned Chapa, but the warning was hardly out of her mouth when Gladys slipped on one of the smooth stones and sat down with a mighty splash. Chapa flew to the rescue and pulled her out on the bank.

"What will I do?" wailed Gladys, "I can't go on with these wet bloomers."

"Wear my bathing suit," suggested Chapa, untying it from around her waist where she had been wearing it as a sort of sash, with all her impedimenta stuck into the folds. So Gladys changed to the bathing suit, and Chapa fixed the wet bloomers on a stick which they could carry between them, so they would be dry by the time they reached the night's encampment.

"We ought to be pretty near the end of our journey," said Nyoda to Medmangi, at about half-past four in the afternoon. "Have you caught sight of Balsam Lake yet?"

Medmangi shook her head. "The woods are too thick to see anything through," she answered. "Let's call," said Nyoda.

Together they raised their hands to their mouths and sent out the long, yodling call of the Camp Fire Girls, and then stood silent, listening. Before the echoes had ceased coming out of the woods the call was answered from somewhere beyond the trees. "We're nearly there!" said Nyoda, and they quickened their pace as they went through the last strip of woods. Soon they heard voices and saw figures moving about in the distance, and presently they came upon the rest of the girls on the sh.o.r.e of the tiny lake. Some of the girls were lying at full length on the soft ground; others were preparing supper. Hinpoha was chopping wood with her hatchet; Sahwah was shaving chocolate with hers. The fire was built close to the water's edge and the firelight shone out redly across the water.

Migwan set a can of beans in the embers to warm, then she sat down on the beach to enjoy the view. The late afternoon sun was pouring its full glory on the lake, making its surface one dazzling sheet of light. Migwan shaded her eyes with her hand, and drank in the splendor of the scene with all her beauty-loving soul. "Now I know how Scott felt when he wrote:

"One burnished sheet of living gold, Loch Katrine lay beneath him rolled,"'

mused Migwan, and fell to dreaming dreams as golden as the setting sun.

Around the fire the tongues were wagging merrily. "We met a man with a wagon and he said, 'Jump in,' and we said, 'No, thank you,' and he said, 'Well, don't, then, ding it.'--"

"We ate our lunch beside a brook and Migwan dropped her sandwiches in and had bread soup--"

"We met a bull and Hinpoha climbed the fence into a field and there were two bulls in that field--"

"Nyoda sat down in a potato patch to tie her shoe and the farmer came out and yelled--"

BANG! There was a terrific explosion that scattered the firebrands among the girls and showered them with ashes and fragments of potatoes. They sprang to their feet, extinguishing the fires that started in various places, and asking what had happened. Nyoda's glance happened to fall on Hinpoha, who had sat nearest the fire. The whole front of her middy was plastered with--_beans!_

On the ground by the fire lay the flattened remains of a tin can.

Migwan had put the beans to heat without opening the can. Shrieks of laughter arose when the truth dawned on the girls and it was many a day before they left off teasing Migwan about it. The fire was built up again, bacon "frizzled," and toast and cocoa made. "And my mouth was just watering for baked potatoes,"

wailed Hinpoha.

"And mine for baked beans," echoed Sahwah.

"You shouldn't eat potatoes if you want to get thin," said Migwan.

"Shouldn't I, Nyoda?" asked Hinpoha, appealing to her guardian.

Nyoda pursed up her lips and recited with a judicial air:

"If you would slimmer grow, my daughter, Eat no starches, drink no water."

Sahwah then took up the tale:

"Look not on the candy sweet, Fall not for the fat of meat."

Thus it went round the circle, each girl pointing her finger at Hinpoha and reciting a couplet:

"If your fat you'd wear away, Exercise ten hours a day,"