They were near a meadow by this time, a big green meadow with trees at its edge, and they all sat down under the trees and unpacked their sandwiches and ate. Some of the girls had thermos bottles with them, with hot cocoa, but most of them preferred the concentrated lemonade Mrs. Bryan had brought along, mixed with water from a nice little brook which had been kind enough to flow quite near them.

"If it's all going to be like this, won't it be lovely?" said Winona, her eyes shining, as she took a large bite of sandwich, and then fed a generous share of the rest to Puppums, who lay quiveringly near her.

"It is nice," said Helen more quietly. "I hope we'll have weather like this the whole time ... gracious, what's that?"

"That" was a distant squeal. Winona looked hastily around her to see what the Blue Birds were doing. But there were no Blue Birds there. The seven little girls were out of sight, but not out of hearing, for it was evidently one of them who had made the noise.

Winona and Adelaide jumped up and ran, but Louise and Edith sat placidly on.

"They _will_ howl," said Louise. "There's no use always chasing after them."

But when Winona and Adelaide arrived at the place the squeals had come from they were very glad they had done the "chasing."

Florence, with little Lucy Hillis holding her, was sitting on the ground screaming steadily. The other girls were huddled together in a frightened group a little way off.

"What is it? What is it, Lucy?" cried Winona, frightened. Florence was making such a noise that it was no use asking her. Lucy Hillis, who was one of those quiet, old-fashioned little girls who always keep their heads, looked up, still holding Florence's wrist.

"Florence's cut herself," she said. "I'm afraid it's a bad cut. I don't dare let go of it."

Winona flung herself down by Florence and put her hands above Lucy's shaking little ones, which then, and not till then, let go.

"Get me a stick, Lucy, quick-a strong one!" she said.

Lucy was back with the stick before Winona was through speaking. Winona pulled off her tie, that useful silk scarf of hers which had helped Edith out of the water, and bound it above Florence's cut, twisting it tight with the stick. Then she asked Adelaide to tie Florence's wrist again, below the cut. She did not want to take any chances, and she did not know yet whether it was a vein or an artery that Florence had hurt.

Then she sent Lucy flying for Mrs. Bryan, while she and Adelaide made Florence keep still.

"That Lucy child keeps her head," said Adelaide approvingly.

"It wasn't _her_ wrist that got cut!" said Florence indignantly, stopping her sobs.

"How did it happen, Florence?" asked her sister. "Tell us-but don't stir. n.o.body knows what will happen if your wrist starts bleeding again."

"Well, we were being Indian chiefs," began Florence, "an'-an' I was out on the warpath, going to scalp Molly Green. And I ran, and Molly ran, an' I fell over a tree-root and the knife cut my wrist."

"The knife!" said Winona, for n.o.body had mentioned a knife before.

"Where did you get a knife?"

Florence hung her head.

"I-I borrowed your penknife out of your knapsack when you laid it on the gra.s.s to get lunch out of it."

"The knife? I didn't."

"No; the knapsack," said Florence meekly. "An'-an' oh, _dear_ sister, I'm so sorry!"

Winona could scarcely help laughing, worried as she was. When Florence had been naughty she always became suddenly very affectionate. At other times she wasn't, especially.

"I'm sorry, too," she said gravely. "I don't know what Mrs. Bryan will say to you, nor mother, when she hears about it."

"Let me see," said Mrs. Bryan behind them. She had hurried over at Lucy's summons.

"Oh, is it-is it an artery?" breathed Winona, as Mrs. Bryan bent over the wounded arm.

Mrs. Bryan laughed. "Nothing of the sort, you foolish child," she said.

"It's only a deep cut. It didn't even strike a large vein."

"Oh, I'm _so_ glad!" said Winona, drawing a long breath.

She ran off to get her First Aid kit out of her knapsack, and, coming back, presently had Florence bandaged up scientifically, and much impressed with the importance of what she had done.

"Will I have to be carried on a stretcher?" the little girl wanted to know.

"Not a bit of it," said Mrs. Bryan briskly. "You will have to walk on your own two feet, like any other naughty little girl."

"Oh, was I naughty?" said Florence cheerfully. "I forgot that!"

"Yes," answered Mrs. Bryan, "you were very naughty. I think we shall have to confine you to camp for two days, when we get there."

"All right," said Florence complacently, "but now please can't I be carried on a stretcher? I should think I might!"

"All right, let's," said Louise, who had come up along with the rest of the girls, in Mrs. Bryan's wake. "Only remember, Florence Merriam, once you get up on that stretcher you have to stay there."

"Of course!" said Florence indignantly.

By this time all the girls were cl.u.s.tered about the interesting invalid, and the stretcher idea struck them all as a very fine one. It would help them to put the Wood Craft they had been learning into practice. Winona picked up her gory penknife, and began to wash it in the brook before she started to cut wood with it.

"Oh," said Florence plaintively, "I thought you'd always keep it that way, to remember me by!"

"I'll have chance enough to remember you without that," replied Winona feelingly, and went off to look for poles with the others. Edith Hillis pulled her embroidery out of her knapsack and mounted guard over the Blue Birds, who were, however, a rather subdued flock by now.

Meanwhile the rest of the girls picked out four saplings which grew at the edge of the wood beyond the meadow, and nicked them at the bottom patiently till they fell. The next thing was to tie them together. But n.o.body had anything to do it with, till Mrs. Bryan remembered a bunch of leather thongs she carried.

"I always have at least two along for extra shoe-laces, when I'm camping," she explained, "and they always come in use for something else before the time is over. An old guide up in the Adirondacks told me to do that, and it's always a good thing for campers to do."

The thongs bound the saplings into a frame, and Louise secured them to a knot that was newly learned, and the pride of her life.

"That can't come out," she said, surveying it with pleasure, for learning to do it had earned her a much-valued bead.

For the covering of the stretcher Adelaide produced an old gray shawl from her knapsack.

"Father made me bring it," she explained rather shamefacedly.

"Just the thing!" said Mrs. Bryan heartily.

They wrapped it round the frame, and it went around three times, being large, so that a couple of pins held it fast. Then they lifted the gratified Florence on to it and started off down the road again. They had cleared up the fragments of their luncheon first, and buried neatly all the sc.r.a.ps and debris, so that there were no excursiony-looking boxes and crusts littering their resting-place.

The girls took turns carrying the stretcher, and as there were fourteen of them, counting Mrs. Bryan, many hands made light work. As Louise had prophesied would happen, after a little while Florence became restless.